The Latch String Was Always Out: The White Eyes Music Club

David Taylor

The Latch String Was Always Out: The White Eyes Music Club

For decades, Zanesville, Ohio and nearby Roseville were leading centers for the production of both art pottery and utilitarian clay-based products. Lung issues, such as silicosis, often developed for those employed in clay mines and pottery plants. The Zanesville’s Good Samaritan Medical Center never lacked for respiratory patients.

In the early 1970s, I was working as a respiratory therapist at “Good Sam.” One afternoon in early 1971, while giving a patient a breathing treatment, I struck up a conversation, inquiring in general as to his health. His name was Carl Harney and he suffered from silicosis; he commented that he was feeling alright but that he was particularly bothered by the rheumatism in his fingers that made fiddle-playing difficult.

As a “folkie” who had begun playing guitar in high school, I was a product of the ‘sixties folk music boom and had developed a love of folk and old-time country music, fiddle music, etc. My ears perked up and thus began a much-valued friendship that lasted for the rest of Carl’s life. Carl mentioned that he was part of a gathering called the White Eyes Music Club, an informal assembly of traditional musicians and singers that met on the second and fourth Sunday of each month, in a former church near the village of Otsego, in northern Muskingum County.

In the Spring of 1971, I made the drive to Otsego to see what I could find. Sure enough, a couple miles north of the village, on the west side of State Route 93, stood an old church, complete with a steeple and belfry, surrounded by upwards of forty vehicles.

Remember, this was 1971 and in rural southeastern Ohio and I was a 22-year-old with a full beard. Not sure how I would be greeted as I approached the door, I saw a small hand-lettered sign that said, “WELCOME THE LATCH STRING IS ALWAYS OUT”. I remember, almost fifty years later, that I wasn’t exactly sure just what that meant, but it seemed friendly, so I ventured in.

I was immediately struck and bowled over by the presence of fine, old-time fiddling and as I looked at the front of the former church on a raised stage stood a half-dozen middle-aged- to-elderly musicians and singers. The former sanctuary was filled with what appeared to be six or seven rows of theater seats with two more rows in the former choir loft. I learned later that the seats in the choir loft were for musicians who wished to play.

My former patient, Carl Harney, was there along with his wife Minnie, whom I later discovered ran a rudimentary kitchen aided by Kathleen Gosser, the wife of Glenn, and Leona Boyd, wife of Tom, both of whom were among the musicians.

Thus began my love affair with White Eyes. The Club had its beginnings in the late 1960s, when Shirley Carter (1926-2012) of Guernsey, Ohio, and several of her neighbors began to play music in the homes of some of the resident musicians of the Coshocton-Cambridge-Newcomerstown area. Shirley remembered, “people just got together to play, and it just got to be more and more. For instance, Jayne Lucas plays the fiddle and another neighbor lady sings and we’d find somebody else that played or sang and they’d be invited. Someone would have a get-together and then invite more and more, and it got to the place that everyone didn’t have room for everybody.” At that point, Shirley’s father, Clifford Snell (1889-1980) became involved with the group and set about to find a suitable meeting spot. Cliff remembered the abandoned Union Chapel, located about three miles north of Otsego, a building that he knew well, since he, a lifelong carpenter, had rebuilt the building after a tornado partly demolished it in the Spring of 1912.

He was able to work out a lease with the owner and extensive repairs followed, including the installation of a kitchen area at the rear of the former sanctuary, a coal furnace, and used theater seats. Most of the work was done by Snell himself, by then in his 80s.

The club borrowed its name from Chief White Eyes (1730-1778), a Delaware Native American chief on whose former lands the church sat. It opened its doors on the second Sunday of May 1971.

In 1976, Cliff Snell purchased the building from owner John McAllister, not long before McAllister’s death. The first entrance fee was $.25, eventually raised to $.40. Performers and children under twelve were admitted free of charge. By the late 1970s, individuals had registered from 271 Ohio towns and cities, 21 states, and three foreign countries, although the majority came from nearby Muskingum, Guernsey, Coshocton, and Tuscarawas Counties in Ohio.

The success of White Eyes both pleased and amazed Shirley and Cliff. They felt that in part it was due to the fact that, in Cliff’s words, “we try to treat people right.” Shirley agreed with this, but added, “Dad‘s got a lot to do with it. He goes around and talks to the people and I think they enjoy that.”

The music at White Eyes consisted largely of instrumental music and, while the fiddle certainly dominated, other instruments were part of any given meeting. Among these were the guitar, mouth harp, five-string banjo, steel guitar, mandolin, and in later years, the hammered dulcimer. Interestingly, the hammered dulcimer had been traditionally played in the area with one Ike Robinson (died 1928), from Chandlersville, Muskingum County, remembered by many, a half-century after his death, as a fine hammered dulcimer player.

White Eyes’ vocal music included an array of pieces, including unaccompanied singing, gospel music, and both early and contemporary country-western selections. There were both traditional songs, learned from oral tradition, and songs learned from the radio beginning in the 1920s. Its founders always said that the club was for “country music old and new,” and it was this music that prevailed, offered for as long as six or seven hours on a “good” Sunday.

A departure from this musical norm would occur when West Lafayette’s Lorena Sims, my former mother-in-law and long-time director of Children’s Services for nearby Coshocton County, would attend with her “Complete Works of Scott Joplin” in hand. Lorena would play Ragtime tunes on the old upright piano in the corner of the stage and always would receive applause from the appreciative audience, some of whom had been young when Joplin composed his masterpieces. This stately professional woman, then in her sixties—who had watched Jesse Owens practice while they were both students at Ohio State in the 1930s–became a White Eyes regular. She is seen on a previous page chatting with White Eyes founder Cliff Sell.

Several of the women regularly brought baked goods, bread, and sandwich meat, which Cliff Snell paid for out of proceeds from the gate. Children were always welcome and were often given free treats, courtesy of their 80-some year-old host. In every sense, the White Eyes Music Club provided an atmosphere of sociability for all members of the family.

In 1975 I moved from Ohio to Kentucky to attend graduate school at Western Kentucky University, studying traditional music and architecture. While a grad student there in 1976, I prepared a successful grant application to the National Endowment for the Arts to produce an album from White Eyes. Recording technicians from WKU made two trips to White Eyes and the result was a pressing of LPs at a studio in Nashville. Copies of the records were given to the performers and to all the libraries in the multi-county region surrounding White Eyes. Believing that artists should be remunerated for their work, ten copies of the album were given to those who had lead roles on each cut and five to accompanists.

The booklet accompanying the 1976 record contained thumbnail sketches of each of the lead performers. Those brief paragraph, below, illustrate the breadth of performers that populated White Eyes, some of whose photos appear as well.

Tom Boyd: Tom is one of the two regular mouth harp players at the Club, Tom is a native of Cambridge, Ohio, but for many years has lived around Boden, near to the Club’s first headquarters. He is a retired farmer and a self-taught fiddler and harp player. His wife, Leona, is one of the indispensable kitchen workers at White Eyes.

Shirley Carter: The founder and mistress of ceremonies for the White Eyes Music Club, Shirley has been employed at National Cash Register in Cambridge for more than 11 years. In addition to her White Eyes duties, she is a regular member of a local country-western band.

Bob Dunn: Bob is a Zanesville man who has been involved with country music since the 1940s when he was a member of the locally-based Oklahoma Ramblers. Also a dobro player, he has played his 1946 Gibson lap steel guitar on local radio stations WHIZ, Zanesville, WILE, Cambridge, and WTNS, Coshocton. Bob is a machinist for McGraw Edison in Zanesville.

Glenn Gosser: Glenn and his wife Kathleen hold the best attendance record of all the friends of the Club. His mother was a guitarist and started him playing at an early age. Kathleen is an important member of the group, since she oversees the operation of the kitchen area.

Chester “Chet” Gray: Chet is retired from a variety of occupations, including that of a barber, farmer, building construction supervisor, and lumber dealer. A fiddler and fiddle-builder, he is also the author of one of the poems reprinted here.

Ted Hall: Ted is Professor of English at nearby Muskingum College in New Concord and is the author of one of the poems reprinted here. Both Shirley Carter and her father credit Ted with being the greatest boost to White Ryes, with his 1972 article in the Columbus Dispatch Sunday Magazine. Ted is a Connecticut native, and received his Ph. D. from Syracuse University.

Clifford Hardesty: Many fiddlers come to White Eyes, and Cliff is one of the finest. He and his family live in West Lafayette, in Coshocton County, where Cliff has begun to make his own instruments; since 1973 he has finished twelve. The youngest of a family of nine, he is now retired.

Telford Hardesty: Cliff’s older brother, and the fourth of the Hardesty boys. Telford has been a farmer and coal miner and has played the fiddle since the early 1920s, when he was a teenager. He also plays the guitar.

Carl Harney: Carl is one of the most faithful of all the friends of the club. He has made several fiddles and of late has been kept busy building wooden limberjacks, the dancing dolls that have become popular at White Eyes. His wife, Minnie, often assists in the operation of the kitchen. Carl and his songs are the subject of an article soon to appear in the Journal of the Ohio Folklore Society, penned by White Eyes regular David Taylor.

Preston Hayes: Pres is the groups most regular bass player and comes originally from North Carolina. He now makes his home in Newcomerstown, Tuscarawas County, where he worked as a tool and die maker until his retirement. With other members of his family, he plays in the Dixie Harmoniers.

Raymond Klass: Raymond is a retired Cambridge auto mechanic. He is 71, and his played the fiddle since he was seven, being encouraged by his father and brother. He has played for many dances in the Cambridge area and although he has owned other instruments, he always returns to the fiddle.

Jayne Lucas: Jayne is the only woman fiddler who regularly attends the Club. She has lived in the area around Boden for more than 39 years. As a youngster she walked almost four miles to receive violin instruction from a Mr. Ringer, a blind violin teacher from Cambridge. For many years she and Tom Boyd (above) have played music together, usually for house dances.

Bob Mason: Bob is one of the most versatile of the White Eyes regulars, playing fiddle, guitar, mandolin, and bass. He is a native of the Norwich area, and for over forty years has built and repaired stringed instruments. He has played in several local bands over the years and has also performed on local radio stations.

Dave Morgan: Dave lives between Boden and Cambridge and works for the newspaper in Cambridge. He has been playing the mouth harp off-and-on for more than thirty years. A self-taught musician, he describes himself as “the product of unskilled labor”.

Walter Sherrick: At eighty-two, Walter is the oldest regular performer at White Eyes. He is a native of Perry County, Ohio, but came to the Otsego area in 1937 and has farmed since 1943. At the age of seventy-five he began to play the fiddle. Walter is an avid walker and regularly walks several miles from his home to White Eyes.

Cliff Snell: Cliff is the 87-year-old co-host of the Club. He was born not far from the site of the former church and has lived almost all of his life in this area, working as a carpenter since 1907. He played the fiddle when he was younger, but surgery on his hands prevented his continued playing.

David Taylor: David has been a regular at White Eyes since 1971. With his wife, Linda, he has performed widely around the southeastern Ohio area. In addition to the hammered dulcimer, he also plays other instruments and sings.

I returned to Muskingum County after finishing my Master’s and my years at White Eyes continued until I relocated to my hometown of Brookville in 1983. Not to overstate it, but in my mind White Eyes would always be a magical place, full of music, stories, companionship, and joy.

I have always felt so blessed to have come full-circle with White Eye in so many ways. I interviewed and recorded him extensively for “Carl Harney: A Traditional Singer from Muskingum County,” an article that I wrote that was published in the Journal of the Ohio Folklore Society.

I ultimately served as a pallbearer for Carl, and later attended the funeral of Cliff Snell, who gave so many of us a treasured venue for our music and who was buried from his—and our—White Eyes Music Club.

To conclude this reminiscence—an exercise that, by the way, has allowed me to relive countless pleasant memories—the following two poems describe every Sunday afternoon that so many of us enjoyed for so many years. One is the work of Dr. Ted Hall, then a member of the English Department faculty at nearby Muskingum College, and the other is the work of fiddler Chet Gray, one of the White Eyes stalwarts.

THE WHITE EYES MUSIC CLUB

I am a stranger, so I’m told

stories of the place and shown

photographs—”last year,” Cliff says,

“we had a little celebration

for these girls. Like two little children

they were. . . “ One ninety,

the other eighty-five, half smiling,

camera shy, holding in their fists

silver lockets, gifts

for still being alive.”

The old man, garrulous, goes on,

his sweet-voiced broken way.

An old timer tuning his fiddle slow.

The song is last to go.

I find a seat

behind the homespun hum

of three farmwomen, quick-tongued adepts

at interruption.

“Carl,” one says, “come back from the dead.

Four hours that respirator breathed

for him.” “And when.” another says,

“the doctor gave me six months, I ‘bout died

right then! Should have—would’ve saved me

those bills of his

I can’t pay anyway. Well here I am—

six years—cough and all. . .”

Outside, light snow blows like smoke

over hills, pitched

by the dead gods of White Eyes—

hills that belong to coal.

Within, the song goes on—

songs of old, familiar sufferings,

of wounds that heal and some

that do not heal

even in the graves of time and earth.

The fiddle tunes are bowed upon the

heartstrings of the old.

I slide into the consciousness

of being home.

iii

Cliff returns.

“Yes, “he says, “tornado tore the steeple off

in 1912. Found pieces myself

four miles up the Coshocton road . . .

When we moved in wasn’t a window in the place—

the floor was bouncin’ up and down!”

Not far, Big Muskie and the Gem,^[1]

land-stripping pioneers of progress, wait their turn.

“What do you think of our country?” Cliff asks.

What do I say?

To him, to all of those—

McAllister, Snell, Hardesty, Gray–

who gather

in this wooden diamond set—

upon a band of coal.

What ghost dance of words

will slow

our falling apart?

What snow

call back the fallen hills?

Ted Hall
from Greenfield Review, 1976
reprinted with permission of John Bruchac

WHITE EYES MUSIC CLUB

Did you ever visit White Eyes

on a Sunday afternoon

where they sing those good old country songs

and play those fiddle tunes?

If you haven’t, you’re invited

to join us in the fun.

Sing a song or play a tune

There’s room for everyone.

Cliff will meet you at the doorway

put your name up on the line

if you just came to listen

Then have a seat, that’s fine.

If you hear a song or fiddle tune

Or maybe a bluegrass band

The only thing we ask of you

Is please give them a hand.

We love to play the music

That’s why we play for free

The people clap for everyone

They even clap for me.

You never know what’s comin’ next

Surprises come galore

Folks enjoy everything

And always ask for more.

There’s fiddles, banjos, and guitars

Never know what’s coming up

Would you believe we even had

A monkey with a cup?

People come from everywhere

New faces every time

They have one thing in common

They like the music fine.

Doctors, lawyers, and clergymen

Our doorway have come thru

It’s against the regulations

But we’ve had a drunk or two.

There’s been people here from Europe

And many of the states

Some folks come real early

And stay ’til very late.

The eats are always very good

At a price you can afford

Especially the soup and pie

So pass along the word.

And when the kiddies do their thing

Whatever that may be

Cliff always sees that they are paid

With an ice cream cone that’s free.

So we’re not hard to find at all

Just dust off that old map

And follow the instructions

To locate where we’re at.

Muskingum County is our home

At the Coshocton County line

The little church so peaceful

Beside this huge strip mine.

There’s Plainfield and Otsego

And halfway in between

On highway ninety-three

The little church is seen.

You’ll hear the music ringing

When you come into sight

At the little church beside the road

All painted nice and white.

And if you can’t remember

When we all gather here

It’s the second and fourth Sunday

Of each month of the year.

And if you don’t enjoy it

If the music hurts your ear

Be careful when you leave

The door don’t hit you in the rear.

Chester Gray, 1976

Some years ago while crossing Ohio on a trip back home to Brookville, I drove up Route 93 from New Concord, past the vacant Otsego General Store. When I got to the spot where the old church had stood, there was not a sign of it. And while I felt that I’d lost a close friend, I knew the White Eyes latch string would always be out.

^[1]The Big Muskie and the GEM (Giant Earthmoving Machine) of Egypt were massive draglines that stripped coal across Belmont, Guernsey, and Muskingum Counties for years. Although White Eyes as surrounded by strip mines, neither the GEM nor the Muskie was ever close.