Gary Burton: “The Green Mountains” (1970)
We returned to the States in March, 1970, after a stormy crossing on the SS Rafaello. The ship was behind schedule, the wait staff preparing to strike as soon we hit New York, and three of the five days on board we sailed through the edge of a major storm. Because the liner was behind schedule, they didn’t put down stabilizers. We simply had to ride it out. There was a movie theater on board but we couldn’t watch the movie, Finian’s Rainbow ,because the curtain fringe around the screen kept swaying back and forth, back and forth, and watching it made you ill. I was the only one at our table who succeeded in keeping down our five o’clock martinis as we hoped for more tranquil times.
The Duke and Duchess of Windsor were shipmates on the trip, traveling free I’m sure, guests of the shipping line. We never crossed paths with them, needless to say, they traveling first class deluxe and we tourist class ordinary. I suspect their wine was better than ours too. Our VW fastback traveled with us too, tucked away in the bowels of the ship. Our table mates on board turned out to be super cool. They were Lester and Marie, a seventy-some Christmas tree farmer and his wife. Les told us a hilarious story about traveling to Mexico, drinking too much tequila, and arriving home to find several burros and a set of Mexican tiled tables waiting for him at the train station. I forget how he got rid of them.
Jeremy was born on May 11, 1970. Two days before, our friends Bob and Marty Gallagher and their daughters Roban and Tracy visited us in New Haven. Esther had a sudden burst of energy when we were getting ready for their arrival. She (we) cleaned and prepped all the day before, then had a great day with them and after they left, cleaned up again before going to bed. We were lying in bed, talking through the day, when near midnight, Esther said, “Dave, I think I’ve had an accident.” Her water had broken. We called the doctor and were told to watch how the labor progressed. Don’t call unless it accelerates, he said. So we didn’t. Nothing changed the next day. We called again. Wait longer, the doctor said . So we did. Still no change. All told, it was forty -eight hours before Esther was admitted to the hospital.
Our plan had been that I’d be with her through delivery but when we got to the hospital, the one delivery room set out to permit the husband to be present at delivery was undergoing renovation so I had to sit in the hall. The wait seemed forever. It wasn’t. But it seemed like it. Eventually there was a cry, then a stronger one. The nurse came to get me. I went into the room. There was Esther with our son, hers and mine, this beautiful creature, Jeremy, whom we had created together.
Esther was exhausted and so was I so I didn’t stay long. It was mid-morning when I left.
***
When I got home, I called my Mom to tell her she had a grandson. My parents, mostly –no solely!- my Mom, had been urging us if it were a boy, to name him John after my Dad. There’d been very tentative suggestions from Esther’s side that Andy (Esther’s father’s name) wouldn’t be bad either but we had decided early not to have a “Junior” in the family. I called my parents and talked to my Mom a few minutes –how long was it after the water broke before we went to the hospital? (almost two days) had the delivery been hard? (not unnecessarily so) what’d the baby look like? (a baby) I told Mom how tired Esther was and that I was going to take a nap after the call. Very tentatively, she asked what we’d named him. “Farlo,” I said. There was a stunned silence. Finally, she spoke, her voice wavering slightly. “Farlo? What kind of a name is that?” I spun her a story of how we wanted a simple name, something easy to say but not too common. She was quiet, unusually so for my mother. “Mom,” I said, “I’m tired. I’ll talk to you later.” Then, just before hanging up, I said, “Oh, Mom! We really named him Jeremy.” After Farlo, not naming him John didn’t seem bad to her.
***
Before I went back to the hospital that day, or maybe after, I stopped by to see our friends Bob and Kathy Gibbons to tell them the news. Some time that same day, I visited a record store (don’t ask me why –there’s no sensible answer) and bought a record to remember the day by. It was Gary Burton: Country Roads and Other Places, Jerry Hahn on guitar, Steve Swallow bass and Roy Haynes drums. One song, “The Green Mountains,” felt like Jeremy to me. When Esther heard it, she agreed. It still does.
Jeremy at two months, and my lovely Esther
Gary Burton: Ravel: Le tombeau de Couperin (1970)
MUSIC & ME 