RANDOLPH, N.Y. — For 48 years, Sally Marsh has been singing with hundreds of her friends every week at the hootenanny in Allegany State Park.
After holding out hope for several weeks, she learned last week that Sally’s Hootenanny won’t happen this summer due to concerns over COVID-19.
“Every week, I was hopeful,” Marsh told the Olean Times Herald.
She continued talks with state park officials, but in the end, Gov. Andrew Cuomo decided that entertainment in the parks was too dangerous. Last Wednesday, the last word came on the hootenanny: No. There will be no entertainment in the parks. The park’s popular artist-in-residence program was also canceled.
“I cried all day,” she said. “I was still hopeful.”
Marsh said she offered to do two weekly hootenannies, so the crowds would be smaller and socially-distanced. People would wear masks. And they wouldn’t come up to the Quaker Amphitheater stage and dance. Or do the “Locomotion” through the crowd.
She even thought of doing the hootenanny in the Quaker Lake Beach parking lot — with everyone staying socially distant in their cars. With the possibility that Cuomo’s order could change, Marsh told park officials she could set up in an hour if the governor changed his mind.
“I wouldn’t do it like I usually did,” Marsh said. “It’s been tough on families.”
On Marsh too.
She misses the 300 to 400 people who lined the benches and the grassy hill in front of the Quaker Amphitheater singing familiar campfire song along with her. Marsh knows many of them by name. She knew who would be at next week’s hoot based on who was there on any particular Thursday night. People tend to camp the same weeks every year. Marsh answers 20 or so emails a day from friends asking whether they will be able to catch a hootenanny this year.
Her answers have gone from “I hope so” to “not this year.”
However, she has tried to keep it alive. For the past six weeks she has been offering virtual hootenannies through Facebook Live. She videoed the performances to put on her Facebook page, Allegany State Park Hootenanny so viewers can watch them any time. The last Facebook hootenanny had 40,000 views, she said.
“I always knew it was important,” said Marsh, who started singing around a campfire in the park while she worked as a lifeguard at 17. “I keep trying to promote it doing online hoots.”
The numerous raffles and the sale of memorabilia at the hootenannies helped fund Marsh’s Christmas program for low-income families. Last year she helped provide a better Christmas for more than 100 children.
Her car looks like an old-fashion peddler’s, crammed with merchandise. Like her front porch.
In a normal year, half of it would be sold by now.
She’s still managing to sell some of the items. Quarantine mugs and masked bears are two of the best sellers. She’s also selling 50-year flags she hopes will fly at next year’s hootenanny. There are no raffles this year, however.
“Everyone is so kind, because they know we help kids,” Marsh said. “This Christmas people are really going to need help.”
Marsh has begun working on a 50th anniversary T-shirt for next year, rounding up sponsors and deciding on a design.
Marsh stops by the amphitheater from time to time. The grassy hill is silent this year, but she can see the shadows of the crowds from years past and hear the echoes of their singing. On her last visit, she met a family who had never heard of the hootenanny. So she sat down and told them the story. “We sing and dance.”
“I’ve got a million stories and I’m starting to tell them,” she added. “I’ve got 49 years of stories to tell.”
She’s recently begun recounting some of those stories on Facebook.
The songs are many of the same ones families have been signing for generations. The words are flashed onto a screen, replacing the hundreds of songbooks Marsh lugged around for more than 40 years. It’s state park karaoke. Marsh strolled around the crowd, handing a wireless microphone to people and they sang.
Her stories often bring tears to a listener’s eyes and Marsh’s too. Last year, for example, she saw two of three sisters from a family that have attended the hootenanny for 40 years. Where was their sister, Marsh asked. They said she had just been released from the hospital that day after cancer surgery and couldn’t get to the hootenanny.
Moments later, the woman walked up the walkway leaning on her husband. She didn’t want to miss it. Marsh had come to Grand Island the summer before to lead a hootenanny for their father’s 80th birthday.
“It’s been hard on me not doing the hoots, but I have put it in perspective,” Marsh said. The perspective is that the coronavirus pandemic has made many people very sick and killed others, some of who Marsh knew. “I’m grateful people are safe.”
After a few years on her own, Marsh was joined by a friend, Page Martin, who played guitar and sang. They would perform at the hootenanny for nearly 40 years. He last performed with her when she marked 45 years.
“Seeing the kids have fun” is gratifying, Marsh said. She also makes a point to salute veterans at each hootenanny.
“It’s more than a hootenanny,” she said. “This setback isn’t going to stop us from helping. Everyone should have friends like mine. Everyone should be as lucky as I am. I can’t thank people enough.”
People have been stopping at Marsh’s home this summer to drop off items for raffles or just to talk.
“We all wear masks when we meet,” she added. “We just talk and spend some time together.”
One woman, she said, sent hootenanny face masks for Marsh to sell. One says “You Are My Sunshine” and another is printed with “My Ding-a-Ling,” two hootenanny favorites.
“It’s a hootenanny, it’s not life and death,” Marsh said. “The loss of the hootenanny this year does not compare to the loss that many people have gone through.”