Wednesday 19th August 2009 – The Plat Thickens

Mike Seeger, a half-brother (I think) of the more famous Pete and Peggy, died last week.  He was one of the founding members of the New Lost City Ramblers in the late fifties, early sixties.  I had the privilege of hearing them in London, courtesy of the State Department, somewhere about six or seven years ago.  Part of the concert was by the original band, rejoined by Tom Paley, who had left the group to go and live in England.

          The band did much to capture and re-popularise original old-timey music.  Mike Seeger was a very erudite exponent of many styles on many instruments.  The Smithsonian (no less) is about to issue a fiftieth anniversary collection of their recordings. 

All of which means that Public Radio is taking a keen interest.  And that means, with the wonders of the internet, I can listen to them again whenever I like.  Which is what I've been doing.

 

The histories I've read of Glasgow IL have it that it was named by James McEvers in memory of Glasgow Scotland.  Now in any good story, you've got to get the timeline straight.  Glasgow was 'platted' in 1836: by Ashford Smith.  McEvers died in 1829.

          Perhaps he was the pioneer, the first landowner?  Perhaps the area had this name before said Smith arrived on the scene.  Perhaps Smith was just some sort of agent.

          The Illinois Public Domain Land Tract sales are now available on-line.  So you can look it up from both the owners and the parcel descriptions.  The original owner of the bit of land that became Glasgow was John Peck (or Peek, which is indistinguishable in the copperplate copies of the time).  And the bit next door was pioneered by Joseph F McGlasson.  McEvers's nearest parcel was a half a mile away.

So if he was dead and not even in the neighbourhood, how did he get into the story?  I shall have to go back to the courthouse(s) to try and trace the land sales of these principle players, see if they connect.

 

Later that evening, I got into a rather frightening conversation with a grown-up lady.  She was in a heated conversation with a man behind the bar, when she suddenly turned to me and said "have you got a gun?" 

          Just to be clear, I was wearing neither cowboy boots nor hat.  So what could have made her think that, of all the people in the bar I might be the one to have a gun (I thought there were a lot more likely-looking candidates)?  Perhaps it is my savoir-faire, my international-man-of-mystery accent; or the fact that I always wear a jacket (or coat, as they say here) indoors, because it's so cold.  She couldn't possibly have thought I was a policeman, that's just too ridiculous.  I can readily imagine beautiful femmes fatales mistaking me for an IMofM.  In fact, later in the evening, I often do imagine just that.  But I refuse to be mistaken for a policeman in any of my stories.

          Perhaps she just wanted to drag me into the conversation, and eject him.  If those were her aims, she was very successful.