Olive Branch Band

 I love this old story.

This wonderful old memory of long ago was written into a story by Mr. Thomas Marion Dean. Though times were hard and it had to be awful living without the gas or electric heat and electric lights that we have in our homes today, there were still fun times and many good memories. This happy time happened back in December of 1880. 

Deanwood in the snow, as it might have looked all those years ago when the Olive Branch String Band visited and played for the Dean family.
 

The mantel clock struck ten; the last candle in the old farmhouse was out. The family had retired and all a sleep, except two boys who slept up stairs, they were almost asleep.

"Listen", said one to the other, did you hear that? Yes, What do you think it was? It sounded like somebody thumping on the old bass fiddle. Through the dim starlit night we could see the 'Band' tuning up their instruments out at the gate to give us a surprise serenade.

At last all was ready, the 'Band' marched quietly to the front porch and formed a half circle. Frank raised his bow as a signal to play. As it came down across the strings the sweet notes of Life On the Ocean Waves floated over the still night air. Joe followed with his second. Elvah took up the chord on the banjo and Gus lined up with the bass fiddle. They had no lights, no charts, no director, they did not need them any more than the mockingbird does. The music was on their minds and in their souls and somehow got out through their fingertips.

I said the music, yes, and the highest class of it, with all the harmonies, melodies, rhythm that natural talent skill and practice can add to it.

We were so captivated by it we forgot everything else. But down stairs, father, mother and other members of the family dressed hastily, stirred up the log fire, lit the candle, brought the dining room chairs into the living room. We put on our pants and got down stairs just in time to hear our father's voice from the hall, telling the band to come right on in.

In a short time all were seated in a circle around a roaring wood fire. Get out the fiddles boys, that was good and we want more like it.

The band took up their instruments and sounded them; they had to be tuned again. To us boys this delay seemed awfully long. We wanted to hear them cut loose and at last they did, for nearly an hour they played such old timers as Arkansas Traveler, Sewanee River, Evalena, Finny Johnson's Waltz, Pop Goes the Weasel, Old McCormick, Lost Boy in the Wilderness, Soldiers Joy, Old Ned, Golden Slippers, Buffalo Gal, Sallie Goodin, Old Liza Jane, Billie in the Low Ground, Fire in the Mountain, Mouth of the Cumberland and others.

Then Frank said, guess we better go. Wait a minute said Father Dean, he went out but soon returned with a feed basket of old fashioned Geniton apples. A treat for the music he said passing them around. Another half hour was spent telling funny stories and eating apples, then they left, promising to come again.

To people who lived in Crittenden County, in the 1870's- and 1880's, Frank, Gus, Elvah and Joe needed no introduction, but for the benefit of this generation I'll say Frank Lamb, Gus Stewart, Elvah Stewart, and Joe Stewart composed the Olive Branch String Band. They were natural musicians to start with and they did a lot of practice playing for gatherings of all kinds. They often went serenading in the community at night, gathering a crowd as they went from farmhouse to farmhouse.

There were no Gramophones then to record this music, no moving cameras to snap and reproduce these old time farm house serenades on the scene. We didn't have the talkies to tell again the funny jokes and stories told that night, we can't see again this big old farm house, see the big family around the log fire, see the happy faces as they munched the apples and laughed so loud at the latest and best stories of the times, nor can we ever hear the band again or it's equal. But we can look back through the busy years in our memory and think over it all, and enjoy the picture in our minds, if we can't see it on the screen.

Mr. Thomas Marion Dean that wrote this story says that is was based on a visit to the Uncle Matt Dean home, partly from memory, with a little sprinkle of imagination thrown in. He and his brother W. A. 'Sandy' Dean were the two boys in the upstairs bedroom. The story was written in Jan. 1940. Mr. Marion Dean died Nov. 29, 1944 and is buried at Sugar Grove Cemetery.

For some that haven't heard the name Olive Branch before. Olive Branch was a school located about nine miles east of Marion in a wooded area 200 yards or so off the old Shady Grove Road. About 2 miles farther east would be the Deanwood community. The school in turn took it's name from the Olive Branch Church that stood near by. In the 1880's, the members of the Olive Branch Band, would have lived in this area and attended this school.

Today all this is left is the Olive Branch Cemetery. The old school and church building's have long been torn down. Today's directions to this area is from Hwy. 120 turn left onto the Earl Hurst Rd. and then turn right on the Olive Branch Rd.

Thanks to Carlos Travis for sharing this old photo of the Dean home in the winter time of long ago.