It’s Who We Are
Update | The International Storytelling Festival takes place in Jonesborough, Tennessee, October 6-8, 2023. Find ticket information here and plan to join the world in Tennessee. The Georgia Mountain Storytelling Festival takes place April 12-13, 2024, at The Ridges Resort on Lake Chatuge in Hiawassee. There is a room block at the resort for the festival. Mark your calendars.
Original Post | April 2016 | Georgia Mountain Storytelling Festival
The two women—Amanda Lawrence and Ruth Looper—who brought all the storytellers (listeners and tellers) together on this brisk, spring morning, say it best: "We're so glad that you're here. Over the next two days, we will experience an ancient tradition that lives on in modern times. Storytelling is perhaps our oldest form of public art. For as long as people have been talking, they have been telling stories. Through the stories that we tell, we create community, preserve heritage, celebrate achievement, express our values, mourn our losses, and make the world new. Storytelling is not just what we do; it's who we are."
Lawrence shares that her favorite story is the one that is on-going in her home. "My husband and I have two young sons, and every night, we tell them part of this sprawling adventure story in which they are the main characters. It ends on a new cliff-hanger every night, and the boys are always eager for the next installment."
Like Lawrence, what story have you told today? Over breakfast or on the ride to work? To a friend on the phone? All stories are born in familiar settings, in unassuming circumstances and locations. To the storytellers who took the stage at Young Harris College in Young Harris, Georgia, and to the storytellers who sat and listened intently in the audience, the stories they share are important, vital to understanding their lives and ours, as well. The average, run-of-the-mill events, which never seem to give us pause—at the end of the day, change us. In fact, aren't we all storytellers? When we tuck our child in bed at night (like Lawrence with her boys), what is the request that calms him before he closes his eyes to sleep?
A story. It's just a story. "Heck no," pleads Maddy Elledge, a senior and festival volunteer at Young Harris College. "They are people's lives, lessons and history. Storytelling is an art that has been around since we learned to communicate." Elledge confesses that her first festival experience was simply a means to get out of class. "It turned out to be one of the best memories of my college career. Each teller has something different to say, something different to teach. It does not matter if you don't come from the same background because we are all human."
Whether it's an inspirational message you seek, a good cry or a buoyant laugh, you will find it here. Wherever tellers are gathered, you will discover the exact sentiment you seek . . . and quite possibly, the unexpected lessons of everyday life from people of all ages and backgrounds who are openly "trying to figure this world out."
Sweet Sunny South: Intermingling music, words and art, Sweet Sunny South brings an enchantment unlike any other performance. As story artists, they use movement to engage and mesmerize listeners. Debbie From , Tracy Sue Walker and Hannah Sage have perfected what they call the "high lonesome" sound of the Appalachian balladeers. Simply listen as 16-year-old Hannah sings Ballad #79; her voice remains in the air long after the notes end. Deliberately haunting, a very smoky Cold Mountain air. Then, be amazed at the crankie—a hand-cranked panorama (right) and the story of love lost. No matter from what medium, stories reach.
To Thomas Johnson, festival volunteer, spending a couple of days with Doug Elliot is exciting. "I don't know a man who could make his living as a traveling herbalist," he says. For Elliott, his words to live by travel via quips strung together with notes: "hanging by a thread, answers to all our problems are inside our head." His rhyming animal issues are delightful, and the story of the "snake and the egg", well, that story is only surpassed by his SCAT RAP, a dissertation of sorts on poop. "It comes outta you and comes outta me. All God's critters gotta SCAT, too." [See, you're getting smarter already.]
Of course, the whistling talent of Andy Irwin is definitely a charmer as well he says of his family friend.
Johnson volunteered at the festival not only because of his dedication to his school but also because he gets the power of stories. "Stories communicate our shared humanity, transmitting our history from one generation to the next. If you know the stories of a society, you know their preoccupation. Prehistoric stories told myths of creation; they were concerned with ultimate truth. Ancient societies told stories of great deeds; there were concerned with their legacy. Medieval societies told stories of chivalry; they were concerned with valor. Modern societies told stories about war; they were concerned with the psyche. We tell stories about our lives, about people that touch us, and the cultures that we are a product of."
These tales not only define who we are but make us laugh a little bit. They enable us to slide through day-to-day life with a bit more ease and stability.
Recalling a question he posed to storyteller Bil Lepp once upon a time: Why does your name only have one 'L'. "He [Lepp] immediately came up with. . . old arcade machines could only store three letters when you entered your high score." As most people would respond, Johnson was surely amazed at the haste and specifics of Lepp's answer. Fellow storyteller Andy Irwin turned to Lepp and asked if it were true as Johnson turned away. Lepp chuckled sarcastically, "No."
Losing yourself in entertainment, in the identity of others, in a far-away place, or in the music of your own laughter. These are the rewards of every storytelling festival on any given day.
Stories Set to Music
If storytelling is the cake, then music is the cherry on top. Providing context and emotion, the strum of the guitar or the cadence of a voice bellows dreams, losses, celebrations, memories. Choosing words of another or penning individual lyrics, each adds their musical talents and makes the story personal. People armed with a voice. Now that's power.
The Pressley Girls : Sisters Katie and Corie raise their voices in tight harmony, accented with guitar, mandolin and fiddle. North Carolina natives perform a range of folk, bluegrass, gospel and country as mama Tipper accompanies them. A storyteller in her own right, she logs snippets of Southern Appalachia musings on her blog daily. Taking direction from their grandfather Pap who is a legend in their Brasstown, they performed in churches, finally taking their show on the road.
Adding her bewitching voice to Sweet Sunny South is Hannah Sage. She can also play claw hammer banjo and upright bass.
David Holt and Josh Goforth: As the legend (Holt) and the rising star (Goforth), the two have you out of your seat in a matter of minutes. Four-time Grammy award winner Holt is a master musician, but it's his stories that keep you mesmerized. He wants you to "experience it now", this "rhythm of the mountains." He throw out names like Ralph Stanley, Tennessee Ernie Ford, and Doc Watson and how their music drew him to these Southern mountains; Holt went and "never looked back." He parades a string of instruments before you including a stick and a bag; I'm in awe of the sounds bellowing forth. He had played on Hee Haw with country greats, and as he sang 16 Tons for this audience of scarcely one-hundred, the entire audience (young and old) sang in unison, "I owe my soul to the company store." He revels in the characters from the back hills of North Carolina who have made an impression on he and his music. Flashing black and white photographs head high, he tells of Inez Chandler (above left) from mountains of northern North Carolina, and her odd use of words. Inviting him in for coffee, she tells him that she only has" the decapitated kind." He describes her as reubenesque "in a corned-beef kind of way." Then the song, "Feel like cryin' since she's gone, She's solid gone." Holt gives Chandler, Ford, Watson, Stanley - credit for the storyteller and musician he is today. Much like every storyteller, sometimes all you have to do is listen and absorb.
Andy Irwin and Marguerite Van Camp
"All his stories make me laugh," says Maddy Elledge of Andy Offutt Irwin . And laugh she did - as well as the rest of us.
Irwin is unique in that the favorite story - hands down - among his followers (and yes, he has followers) is the tale of his 85-year-old Aunt Marguerite, voice and all. Speaking in that raspy, old woman mouth-full tone, he has you nodding your head in agreement that you do, in fact, know someone exactly like her. He's deep into his story when he eyes two youngsters on the front row: "Yes, children, this is my job." He returns to his tales of gummy lime sherbet punch and cheese straws, required munchies for all Southern gatherings, especially weddings and funerals. She, like most Southerners, had a "one butt bathroom," but she did have a urinal in the garage. Then came the story of Atlanta Fulton County Stadium and a band performance. He showers the audience with stories of best friends, church services and yard rakes (the "acoustic instrument of yard work"). And there are lessons of love, tolerance, friendship and mercy. Through all the laughter, there's a couple of tears that escape. And in your mind's eye, you remember your 'own' Aunt Marguerite, and you smile.
Locals Take the Stage
Stories are everywhere, and as practice at most storytelling events, everyone has a stage.
For Melanie Knauff, she describes being "lost in those electric blue eyes." At 32,000 feet after she had been bumped to first class (every single girl's dream), she hears a call come over intercom for a doctor. She thinks very little of it until she sees her very own "Doctor McCutie" rush down the aisle and hover over the woman laying the aisle. Thoughts raced; she had watched Dr. Phil and House, and realized, "a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." And what she does now becomes the rest of the story.
Three years ago, Kanute Rarey (below) moved to Young Harris. He had fallen in love with Appalachia as a child, and as he grew older, he summarized the mountain's pull: The mountains are calling and I must go. He knows that life is rich, and from there, his stories unfold. "Some of my stories are established fables that hold life lessons that have been told over and over for many, many years," he says. "Others . . . are creative works of my imagination from pulling the best and 'not-so-best- parts of my life."
Today, he tells The Legend of the Great Owl and the Boy . . . Living on the Edge of an Enchanted Forest. The little boy explores the forest and finding himself in a frightening situation, he cries for help. An adventure begins that will save the boy and teach him a life-long lesson; it also will change the listener's life as well. All you have to do is listen.
Rarey believes in telling stories. "In our world today, driven by words such as productivity, technology and texts, tweets, likes/dislikes and Instagrams, I believe storytelling by all of us is vital. Storytelling for young people is a place to preserve family history, discover personal values and vision, and build on their heartfelt reflection, discovery and imagination . . . it is a a 'whole body' experience. Heart and mind."
