Excellent An unforgettable night--a very forgettable song Goodnight Irene by RaymondJohn Goodnight Irene came out in 1950 and was sung by Pete Seeger and the Weavers. Pete Seeger was soon afterward indicted by the House Unamerican Activities Committee as a suspected Communist.

Category:  Biographical Non-Fiction   Posted:  March 24, 2008      Views: 472

RAYMONDJOHN  IN PRINT   ABOUT RAYMONDJOHN  Raymond John is a hopeless FanStory addict who has at times spent as many as twelve hours in a single day reading, reviewing and writing for the site. His three purposes are based on three "Es" which are Explain, Enlighten and Entertain. His greatest fear is to take himself too seriously. He may not always smile, but he always has a twinkle in his eye. Knock his socks off with a fantastic write and he'll be your best cheerleader and give you a banner award, to boot. He has written two novels and numerous short works. His first book, The Cellini Masterpiece, has sold nearly 3,000 copies and received an Honorable Mention in the 2006 IPPY awards. It is now available in a Kindle edition from Amazon.com. An audio version (ISBN 9780615268125) is now available read by the renown actor, James Cada. MP3 edition, downloadable for IPOD, is 14.95. Order at www.raymondjohnbooks.com. His second mystery, Mix and Match Murder, which was originally scheduled for release in September of 2008 is now in print and available from Amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com and North Star Press. A scholar born in the golden age of radio, Raymond always appreciates hearing a well-told story, especially one with action and believable dialogue in a historical setting. I have written and received many reviews. I have a thick skin, so if constructive criticism is forthcoming, bring it on. He has won several contests. The contest submission Mousie, Kittie and Booger was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Gold In Them Thar Words was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Lot 386 was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. He is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #22 position. Portfolio | Become A Fan It was a beautiful June night at Sleepy Hollow. The crickets were busy in the bushes, and every so often you would hear a thump as a June bug slammed against the screens. The musty odor of the cabin seemed especially strong. The smell was one of my earliest memories, undoubtedly sown when I was an infant. It was always present, like the whiffs of mothballs in the closet. I'm sure it was always there because things never quite got a chance to dry out. Also, spring had come much later than usual in 1950, with snowstorms well into April. My younger sister Mary snored gently in the bed across from me. She had the upper berth of a bunkbed Mom and Dad separated and I had the lower. Drowsing, I lay without covers, letting my sunburn warm me. I had spent a busy day fishing and Dad and I had cleaned a nice batch of sunnies. He cut off the heads and gutted them. I cut off the fins with a special scissors that were like tinsnips. When we were done, we dug a hole in back of the outhouse and buried the remains. They never stayed buried very long, though. Often a skunk or some other critter would come in the middle of night and dig up a gourmet dinner. Sometimes they even left their perfume to let us know they had been there. I had barely fallen asleep when I was abruptly woken by the sounds of singing. "Good night, Irene, Good night. Good night, Irene. Good night, Irene. Good night, Irene. I'll see you in my dreams." The voices were clear and inescapable. I listened until the song ended, unhappy by the intrusion, but happy it was done. How wrong I was. No sooner had the last strains wafted into the cabin when it started again. I got out of bed and looked out my window. The resort across the lake was fully lit, sending yellow light halfway across the still waters. Though I didn't know it at the time, they had just recently installed a jukebox, and the newborn was hungry for all the nickels and dimes people dropped down its maw. The window had been left open to let in the cool night air. I closed it and crawled back into my bed. I could still hear the words plainly. In fact, I was sure they had turned up the volume. After the fifth repetition, the music stopped. Maybe whoever was playing the song had gotten as tired of it as I was. More likely, the culprit had run out of coins and had to replenish his stock, because bare minutes later, it started again. I don't know when it stopped playing. Either the lunatic who was playing the song finally gave up, or I was too tired to notice and simply fell asleep from exhaustion. At any rate, it wasn't playing in the morning. Thankfully, I never heard it again at Sleepy Hollow. Now, more than fifty years later, whenever I hear it, my jaw clenches. Funny how things stay with you, isn't it? Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Author Notes Why is it I can remember something that happened more than fifty years ago still remains in mind in so much detail when I can't remember where I put the grocery list today? I have many other memories, many pleasant, others I would just as soon forget. I would be more than happy to forget Goodnight Irene. Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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