[dcab-l] Bill Grant & Delia Bell: "Salt Creek Park"

Songwriters & Music Lovers:

 

Bill Grant and Delia Bell were a bluegrass music duo from Oklahoma.  When Bill

Monroe heard them perform, he invited them to his festival in Bean Blossom, Indiana,

introducing the duo to a wider audience.  In the late 1960s, Grant and Bell formed the

Kiamichi Mountain Boys, named after the Kiamichi Mountains near their home.

 

They recorded more than a dozen albums for their own label Kiamichi Records as well

as for record producers like County,  Rebel,  Rounder, and Warner Brothers.  They

toured England and Ireland 11 times during the 1970s.

 

The Kiamichi Mountain Boys were disbanded in 1980. After that, Grant and Bell

worked either with the Johnson Mountain Boys or as a mandolin/guitar duo.

 

From 1969 until 2003, Grant hosted Grant's Bluegrass Festival on a 360-acre cattle

ranch near Hugo.  He named the festival site "Salt Creek Park".  And so, this song is Bill

Grant's lamenting the end of a summer of bluegrass, recalling performers' songs.

 

Rattlesnake Hill musicians:

 

Barb Diederich       Bass & Harmony

Tom McLaughlin     Mandolin

Terry Wittenberg    Banjo

Ed Schaeffer          Guitar & Vocals

 

To listen, click:  http://rattlesnakehill.org/Web_Music/edsmusic.html

 

Ed

 

Salt Creek Park

     Bill Grant & Delia Bell

 

I’m all alone on a hillside when darkness falls on me

Lookin’ out at the empty seats where the people used to be

Where the bluegrass and old tyme music gave many souls a thrill

And the cold cold wind is chillin’ my bones as it moves across the hill

 

Chorus: The golden leaves are fallin’ down to cover up the ground

And winter falls on Salt Creek Park as they come driftin’ down

 

I can still hear Charlie Waller, “Bringin’ Mary Home”

I can hear Cliff Waldron singin’, a song he calls “Hold On”

I can still hear Ray Kline’s fiddle, in a tone so soft and low

I can hear Ralph Stanley’s lonesome voice on “A Little Boy Called Joe”

 

Chorus:

 

Next summer when the leaves are green they’ll all be back again

And pick and sing under the trees and visit with their friends

I can hear the banjos ringin’, and the voices sweet and shrill

Just memories of another time that float across the hill.

 

Chorus: