Wednesday, July 15, 2015

On the banks of the river stood Running Bear...

If you are any part of our extended family, you know when those first few words are sung, there is literally no way to escape hearing the entire thing through to the end.  It has been an integral part of my life for more years than several of you have lived.  For my years of coaching, it was a rally cry--a way to get my interpers ready for their competition.  We would form a circle.  Kids would take parts, and when the chorus would erupt, the contestants would circle around while other schools looked on in dismay, derision, and, in my own belief, envy.  We WERE the Watertown Interpers.  We were strange.  And we were awesome. 
Not the kind of song that fades away, when I quit coaching, it appeared on the trails of every hike we have taken.  At some random point in time, the verses simply ring out, and by the end of the trip, most everyone joins in the chorus--hand motions included. 
I have embarrassed literally hundreds singing it at Karaoke. 
And then there was the train in England.  In the car ahead of us, a group of scouts was heard singing the chorus.  Unabashed by the fact that we were in a foreign land and I didn't know a single one of them, I immediately switched cars and sang the verses for them. 
It's been sung at several weddings.  It's been sung at a couple reunion.  And with any luck at all, it will be sung when I can no longer sing it.  Because then, it will be "with a love that couldn't die!"

No comments:

Post a Comment