Story
When I first got to Bisbee, I was struck by the buildings. Some of them were these beautiful old buildings and some were old miner's shacks. I knew there was a rich history here. One morning, I woke up and thought, "Today, I'm going to write a song set in 1917". I don't know why I picked that date, but I remember thinking that 1917 was probably when Bisbee was really booming. I was walking through town, taking in the local sights, trying to find inspiration, and as I passed Atalanta's Book Store, I saw a booklet in the window called "The Great IWW Deportation of 1917" by Robbie Hansen. I read the booklet cover to cover and when I recovered from my outrage, I wrote this song. It came out in about a half an hour. Robbie Hansen is no longer with us but I want to thank him for publishing that booklet just the same. Those were his words, I just rhymed 'em up a bit and put them to music.
Lyrics
The Ballad of Ben Johnson
I am a Bisbee Miner Ben Johnson is my name
I came here from Nogales to work the company claim
I left my wife with two young boys and headed out one day
That was five long years ago I came here on that train
I joined up with the union when I came to this town
I signed on with the company and made my way around
They gave me sticks of dynamite to bring the mountain down
I worked as hard as any man tearin' up the ground
They paid us very little and paid in company script
We lost a bunch of miners when a hole caved in
No showers and no lockers, no time to warm our skin
We'd walk home shiv'rin' from the mines, pneumonia took a friend
The Wobblies called a meeting and called a picket line
We had to show the company their policies weren't right
The great world war was raging then, but we had our own fight
The Company came up with a plan and tried to break the strike
"Kaiser sympathizers", the local papers said
The company asked the sheriff to deputize some men
1200 able bodies were given guns and then
July 12, 1917 they came to get the "reds"
In the early hours of dawn they snuck up on their prey
The vigilantes killed James Brew when he shot McRea
Eleven-hundred eighty two were rounded up that day
They marched us into Warren and put us on a train
They took us to New Mexico and left us at a camp
With soldiers all around us we didn't have a chance
All of us were ordered never to come back
And then they closed off Bisbee, a gun at every pass
That was 20 years ago I still recall that day
I found work in a factory, ten years I stayed away
They say time heals everything but some things stay the same
When I came back to Bisbee, I had to change my name
I am a Bisbee miner, John Benson is my name
I came here from Nogales to work the company claim
My boys are grown with families, Ruth died in '28
25 long years ago, I came here on that train
(8/25/96)
Becky Reyes
1998-07-00
Becky Reyes
Story
I wrote this in '92 or '93 when I was playing at Common Grounds Coffee House in Bath, NY. My friend Todd Stratton and I were playing a lot. It was originally a bluegrass song.
When I came to southeastern Arizona, it came to represent the San Pedro River. Actually, it represents all of the rivers here. When they're dry, they are bone dry, but when the monsoons come, the swell, roil, burst and they are amazing.
My friends, John Messenger on lead guitar, Lance Grey on upright bass, Bill Morrison (RIP good friend, I miss you) and I may have done two takes on this one. My brother Joe lugged his equipment up a steep set of steps in Bisbee and we recorded this in my living room.
Lyrics
This River
Here is a river
Runs by my life
The current is strong here
It's mouth, it is wide
This river, she bubbles
This river, she cries
This river she rages
This river runs dry
Many have stopped here
To camp by my fire
We'll sing to each other or
We'll talk 'til we're tired
I had a garden
Tilled with my blood
The river, she took it
During the flood
I took my lover
Rowing one night
The full moon, she floated and
She sailed outa-sight
