The True Book of Mostly Unrelated Stories: Small Town Sounds

While the photo above has nothing really to do with Small Town Sounds, for anyone who remembers a visit to Doc Adams’ office, if might be Small Town Smells. John Mooy, at right, with Doc Adams in 1974,  remembers oh so well the antiseptic olfactory sensation upon entering the office.  – Photo from the Nat Mooy Collection

by John Mooy

There are sounds, and then there are noises.  And then there is always something in between.  And of course, I’m referencing the greatest small town on the planet – Marcellus.  So, we have the very melodic and harmonic sounds of the high school orchestra which started out as the squeaks and squawks of the beginner’s band.  This happened through hours and hours of practice by the band members and the extremely capable leadership of the band director, Miss Essex.  Thank you to you and your students for creating so much melody and harmony.

   There are those sounds that can be a bit annoying.  You will even find that without the sound in this next sentence.  Remember the fellow in class who would always stand near the front of the room and threaten to drag his fingernails across the chalkboard.  A noise you’ll never forget. Did you just cringe?  

   There is always talk about the use of our senses, sight, smell, hearing taste, and touch.   Often times our auditory sense is overlooked.  What we hear.  And in a small town there is plenty to hear.

   Saturday at high noon the fire whistle was always tested.  A rather piercing sound that didn’t cause much concern as everyone in town knew that the fire department was just checking to make sure the alarm worked.  The next sound immediately following and sometimes happening as the fire whistle ended, we as kids sitting in front of the television set with a bowl of cereal heard these words, “Out of the clear blue of the western sky comes Sky King . . .brought to you by Nabisco.” Ahead of his time was Sky King, the flying Cowboy who lived at the Flying Crown Ranch and brought the viewers exciting episodes every Saturday.  I loved the program.  

   In Marcellus once every hour around the clock during my youth we had the Grand Trunk Western train whose sounds could be heard for miles around.  I recall lying in bed at night hearing the sound of the train in the far-off distance coming into town and then disappearing into the darkness of night.   The sound for me was almost a lullaby that helped me fall asleep.

I still love the sound of the trains and never mind sitting at a railroad crossing and watching as the train goes whizzing past.

   We in Marcellus are privileged to hear the sounds of nature be it a bullfrog croaking from a resting spot in one of our ponds or lakes, to the Canadian geese which fly overhead to the chirping of robins and the scolding of blue jays.  Everyone has taken a turn at imitating the cows mooing as they graze in the pastures.  The farms are a constant symphony of sounds.

   There was nothing better on a warm summer day to ride your bike to the Rocky River and sit on the bank and listen to the gurgling sounds of the river and the chortle of the red-winged black birds which were always present.  

   We sometimes were able to create a certain sound while sitting on the edge of the road next to highway M-119 waiting for a semi-truck to pass by.  If we raised our fist in the air and made a downward pulling motion most of the drivers would respond by pulling down on the cable that emitted the sound of their horn.  You could then listen as these trucks shifted through their gears while leaving town.  

   When the farm bureau was in full operation, I enjoyed listening to the sound of the full wagons of grain being emptied for processing into the bins beneath the trailer.  An incredible WHOOSHING sound which was music to the farmer’s ears indicating another successful season of growing.  

   The sounds are endless; the opening and closing of a mailbox, the marching band headed to the football field, the National Anthem being played and sung, and the cheering of the crowd.

   The music of Marcellus comes to us in many forms.  We love them all.

Have a great week, Marcellus.
You’re the best. 
Stay “tuned.”