The sun, brilliant all day, was setting behind us, bathing the Newport-Pell Bridge and the hundreds of sailboats between it and us in a decadent light, and the three-quarter moon looked three-dimensional above the stage as ninety-year-old Pete Seeger closed the Newport Folk Festival, fifty years after he and a few others had closed the first one - a year after I was born. Pete was surrounded by all those who had performed that day, including Tao Rodriguez Seeger, his thirty-seven year-old grandson, and I was surrounded by three of my four children.
The final set Saturday night began with Turn, Turn, Turn and ended with It Takes a Worried Man, a song which my youngest, who is eight, had heard in the car more times than he would have liked. For most of the festival, James and Sarah, sixteen year-old twins, had left Will and I together with our blanket and beach chairs and wormed their way up to the stage to see their beloved Decembrists or - on one of the smaller stages - Iron and Wine - up close, but Sarah decided to take Will with her up in front of the stage for the final song. As I heard Will's voice above the crowd jubilantly articulating each and every lyric of each and every verse of that final song, tears began to stream down my face, tears which I fought to hold back (again unsuccessfully) on Sunday, as Joan Baez sang Forever Young.
I didn't think the kids had noticed the tears, but on the way home I asked about favorite moments and James described that last set on Saturday night, slyly noting that I had been tearing underneath my sunglasses, which he questioned.
Just wait James.
Copyright @ 2009 Anthony F. Cottone.
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