Father Folk Stage
It was a miracle that I even got to play a set at this delightful private folk festival, nestled in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania, near Mohnton, Pa. I’ve done sets here over many summers, and it always is a highlight of my summer. It’s a festival put on by friends, with camping, a great stage and sound system and folk gathering in a glade down a dirt road and behind some cornfields. It’s by word of mouth, and that presented me with a large problem in finding it this year. More on this later.
From 2021
I got there nick ‘o time at 6 pm, made it to the sound tent where they said there was no problem and I would go on in about 15 minutes for a 45 minute set. Phew.
I was certainly warmed up from the four hours of gigs already today, but this audience was the one I really wanted to play for: intelligent folkies ready for music. I plugged in and launched with Don’t Call Me Early, July, encouraging the glade to sing along, which, after some hesitation, they did. It was important for this space to hear itself sing, especially with the philosophy behind the festival itself.
The rope swing in the glen.
My strings were starting to thud, but being plugged in gave me the juice to play hard and clean. I really nailed the set with Pay BoDiddley, Giants, Giant, Rosie, Lessons from Pete and got some nice comments from folks as I headed back up the hill.
I tried desperately to find the GPS of the site, combing through old emails and the web site, but that information is strictly held, so I departed Allentown thinking I would be able to remember some of land marks and exits along the way. I set my device on Knauer, PA. I made to the area with about 45 minutes to spare, but found nothing even remotely familiar. I even asked a young girl working at the local “Wawa” and she pointed off in one direction. I was driving off into oblivion around 6 pm and I pulled over to set my GPS to “Go Home”, writing off playing at this festival, disappointed in my not making the gig.
I pulled back on the road and not 200 yards down the road, I spied the turtle logo on a sign. Eureka! There it was, the familiar dirt road heading into the corn field! Amazing. I actually found the gig (or it found me…) Rather mystic.