Late Night Drinks With Pete Seeger

I woke up this morning to the news Pete Seeger had died and flashed back about forty years or so. 1971 to be exact.

I was a sophomore at a small private university in northern New Jersey majoring in political science and self-appointed chair of the school's environment committee. My roommate, Bart, was majoring in theater (and later went on to get his masters and create and lead the puppetry department at the University of Connecticut).

There was an official student entertainment committee that booked popular-but-safe concerts (I remember Santana being one) but Bart wasn't satisfied with their selections and essentially started his own freelance booking agency on campus specializing in unknown, under appreciated, controversial acts mostly of the acoustic or folk variety. Among others, I remember he brought in the Boys of the Lough featuring Aly Bain and Mike Whellans.

And he booked Pete Seeger.

I don't remember the actual venue for that concert. The official committee usually booked into the gymnasium. Bart's concerts were much smaller and usually played in the common room of the Great Hall ( a copy of Christ Church Hall at Oxford University).

The important thing is not where the concert was held, or that it was a roaring success. The important thing is that, after the show, as Pete and his accompanists were packing up, someone asked him if he would care for refreshments before taking off and he allowed that, "singin' is thirsty work," whereupon we decided, what with the hour and all the commercial establishments being close to or already past closing time, to invite him back to our dorm room for a beer or three.

To our delight, he accepted. And so Pete Seeger (and troupe) spent the next two hours or so up in our room in deep conversation about music and politics and the environment. We talked about the war. We talked about pollution. He told of us building the sloop, Clearwater, a sailing ship on the Hudson River as a kind of moving billboard for cleaning up the water. He took out his guitar and and strummed a bit. He told us never to get discouraged or give up, the fight was its own reward and you never knew what kind of effect you could have down the line.

Rest in peace, Pete Seeger. What an effect you had, down the line.