6. Table of Contents Previous Next
Posted 8/2/26 , Written in 2006
“How I got THE CHAIR”
The Old Fiddlers’ Convention in Galax, Virginia is a perennial institution dating back to the 1930s. For a large portion of the convention’s existence, Felts Park, a baseball field in downtown Galax, has been its home. Each year, thousands of musicians and fans descend upon the small field several days before the event starts. They arrive early, each to stake his claim for a postage-stamp sized bit of ground, kindly referred to as a camp site. Perhaps the sites would be more aptly described as slightly over-sized parking spaces. Galaxers gravitate each year toward their customary corners of the park, where they can become reacquainted with friends from Galaxes past.
Felts Park, divided into musical territories for the week, is a small nation in microcosm. Each of these “neighborhoods” has developed its own personality and has been named by its residents or in some cases, its detractors. The camps are graced by many amenities from home, such as sofas, armchairs, floor lamps and various works of art and artifacts. While walking around the park, one will encounter Bobville, The Hill, The Circus Tent, Swing Town and, until recently, The Will Keys Camp. Will, one of the world’s best two-finger style banjo players, passed away in 2005, leaving a giant hole in the Galax community.
The most extraordinary feature of the Will Keys Camp was his green 1959 army surplus bus. On the bus was a “Smoking” sign, the bottom half of a sign once bearing a contradictory message. In the bus were all the comforts of home, including bunk beds and a kitchen table and chair set, circa 1970. Will would take the chairs out under the awning so folks would have a place to sit and pick. Will’s camp was a place to gather and play along with Will, as he played through his extensive repertoire of old tunes, which included Irish tunes, big band numbers and ragtime pieces, along with some standard old-time music, all played in his wonderful two-finger style.
Picture this lovely scene from the year 2000. The kitchen chairs were out - all but one occupied by Will’s friends, admirers, and fellow musicians. The tune being played was “The Wearing of the Green,” an Irish-American ditty revived from obscurity by Will. Smiles all-around - the remaining chair unoccupied. As I strolled into the campsite, I was very happy to hear that Will and friends were playing a tune that I had some familiarity with, as I had played it with them at that very spot the previous year. I quickly opened my case and pulled out my mandolin, afraid that the tune would end before I got a chance to take a break. I made a dash for the empty chair and quickly brought the jam session to a halt as both the chair and I became victims of Newton’s second law – “Force equals mass times acceleration.” The kitchen chair, heretofore unscathed after being hauled around in the bus for years and used at hundreds of festivals, had been reduced to its constituent parts in a manner experienced similarly by Humpty Dumpty. You can’t imagine my embarrassment as I lay there in the ruins, smarting and holding my mandolin, which I managed to protect. Will, ever the gentleman, said that it was just an old chair and not to worry about it and added, “Sit over here on the cooler, let’s pick,” which we did. I didn’t know until later that that chair and table set were from his kitchen at home. His wife, Lola, must have given him the dickens when he got back.
2001 (The following year). The multitudes were in line, inching closer to the entrance gate to Felts Park. As I approached the rear-end of the line, I saw the green bus approaching at the same time with Will Keys behind the wheel, literally behind the wheel, as it obscured all but the top half of his head (including his hat), his hands at ten and two o’clock on the wheel. How Will, at about five-two and ninety-eight pounds, was able to handle that bus has been a mystery to many of his friends for years. At any rate, Will ended up two cars ahead of me in line. The Galax line advances very slowly. You may remain stationary for fifteen or twenty minutes, then advance by one or two car-lengths. This allows ample time for mingling. During one of these lulls in motion, Will poked his head out of the bus and said “Com’ere Tom, I’ve got something for you.” I looked in the bus and there was a section of tree trunk about three feet high and two feet in diameter that had been carved into a chair with a chain-saw. Will had added a padded seat, covered in Naugahyde. Will said “Now there’s you a chair you can’t break.”
The chair ended up at Will’s camp for Galax week and each time I visited, whoever was sitting in it had to get up. “That’s Tom’s chair,” Will would say. At the end of the week I took the chair, weighing in at about two hundred pounds, back to Maryland and installed it in a place of honor in my recording studio. I later found out that Will somehow got that chair into the bus by himself – amazing.
Many a lesser man would have become upset or angry at a clown that busted up his Galax furniture. Will turned it into a comic act of kindness and created a well-loved work of art that continues to memorialize the great man. The legendary Will Keys chair is now a permanent fixture at the studio. Hip banjo players; that is, those who are familiar with Will and his music, sit in it as they record.
photos - Will in 1998 at Galax and The chair – Chair photos by Stephen Wade
Tom Mindte
May 2006
Will in 1998 at Galax
The chair – Photo by Stephen Wade