He Never Returned, and He Never Returned

Posted on by

If you are of a certain age and musical inclination, you know the rest of the chorus, and the story of Charlie on the MTA.

Bob Shane, one of the founders of the original Kingston Trio, passed away late last month. He was 85. I grew up listening to their LPs, of which Mom and Dad Red had many, along with music by Odetta, the New Christie Minstrels, Ian and Sylvia, the Limelighters, and other “folk” groups from the 50s and 60s. I didn’t get all of the asides and jokes, and Mom had to explain a few of them, or just said, “Later, dear.”

I really liked their live recordings, because of the banter and joking, and the wit. They were not really folk musicians like Alan Lomax, Jean Ritchie, and others, because they wrote a number of their songs, but they became the folk music of the time, and they captured the sense of the old ballads and bawdy songs. “Charlie on the M.T.A.”, “Scarlet Ribbons*,”Zombie Jamboree,” “John Birch Society,” and others still play in my head from time to time. Some were social commentary (“Which Hat Shall I Wear,” “John Birch,”) but they were also humorous.

Here’s a slightly bawdy number, with a verse that could never make it on radio today:

And of course, poor Charlie, forever trapped beneath Boston’s streets:

 

And one of my favorites:

*Just who composed “Scarlet Ribbons” was settled by a lawsuit between Jean Ritchie and David Guard of the Trio.

 

Advertisement

16 thoughts on “He Never Returned, and He Never Returned”

  1. Ah yes … riding the T in Boston, and a certain tune kept running through our heads for the entire visit. They sell Charlie Cards for fares, just going with a theme.

  3. But if she could slip him a sandwich, why not not a few coins?
    And End-of-Line happens eventually.
    Yeah, Yeah, I know… using that horrible “logic” stuff….

      • If can be slipped a sandwich, can be slipped *rolls* of coin or wads of bills.
        Yeah, I know, that means the song doesn’t work… but logical solution almost always have that sort of result.
        And hey, if *ox* can figure it out,…

        • I decided, once I’d reached a certain age, that she was perfectly happy not to have Charlie come home. Why? Yes, well, I’ll just let you decide which possibility you prefer.

          • I came to the same conclusion in my youth. For as Orvan noted if she could drop him a sandwich at Sculley Sq Station (note: I challenge you to FIND Sculley Sq station, it is not currently on MBTA the map under that name 🙂 she can drop him the dime he needs (or a roll of dimes for that matter) and free him. Ergo she does not WANT to free him, this state of affairs is preferable.

        • Well, if we going to do Logic, the MTA would have kicked Charlie off and sent him a bill. 😈

  4. *Snicker* We used to sing the MTA song around the campfire in Girl Scouts.
    Fortunately, we didn’t know the Copas song … that would have been something our leader frowned on. Peter, Paul and Mary’s “I’m in Love With a Big Blue Frog” was about as edgy as we got.

  5. Ah yes, Charlie and the MTA… That always reminds me of this parody of Peter, Paul, and Mary’s Puff the magic dragon…

    Puff the Magic Dragon was a plane of time gone by
    A warrior of the World War Two at the skies of Viet Nam
    Thirty years had passed since he was born as DC-3
    But he was Air Force working horse and fine as plane could be

    A bloody war was raging and Yanks were in quagmire
    But Captain Ronald Terry thought “Let’s have some friendly fire”
    He thought that he could fire fire through the cargo door
    He installed three Gatling guns and Mister Puff was born!

    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam
    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam

    Together they would travel where GIs needed aid
    and he would fire those Miniguns near Puff’s gigantic tail
    The Charlie thought: “A dragon – has attacked us – oi vey!”
    The Yanks were all delighted and Puff, he got his name

    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam
    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam

    And Puff he helped the GIs when the things went wrong
    Puff was bane of Commie hordes, the NV and Viet Cong
    When enemy was spotted, then Puff went circling low
    The Miniguns then did their job and Commies died in row!

    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam
    So Puff the Magic Dragon lived by Nha Thrang
    And he frolicked in the hostile skies of the land of Viet Nam

    Now dragons live forever – and so does DC-3
    The Twin Wasp sound can still be heard when granny’s come of me
    Eighty years have passed soon, but DC-3 stilll flies

    • Oh, how I wish I had heard that years and years and years ago….
      I might have actually memorized it, pronunciation be damned.

      See, once upon a time I had a teacher who, when nobody had a ready answer, would call upon someone (or everyone) and ask this or thjat and finally end with, “… sing Puff the Magic Dragon.” Evidently he’d done that for years and years.

      One day, I had the answer in my mind, but just could NOT get to my mouth… and finally, in desperation began o/` Puff the Magic Dragon, lived the sea, in the mystic magic land of Honah-Lee… o/` — And the fellow all but fell off of the stool he was sitting upon. It seems in ALL the many long years he’d suggesting the response, until just then, NOBODY had actually gone and DONE it – AT ALL. My pitiful quasi-start was thus a tremendous shock.

    • Sort of like the paratrooper version of “Battle Hymn of the Republic” (“Blood on the Risers”) that Grandpa Carl inadvertently taught me. Which I don’t sing outside of certain select company.

      • Well … my daughter told me what they sang in history class (6th grade). Wife turned pale. FIL, with battle stars on his jump wings, laughed. My thought – the engines are still working! Why jump? 🙂

        • Grandpa Carl finally allowed as how if the pilot (me) jumped out, and the plane was not on fire, it would indeed make the passengers nervous.

Comments are closed.