When I was young…

A “found” poem by Mrs. Ella Fake

As an introduction, I need to explain that the following poem is not my own and that it was indeed “found” in a most curious place. But since someone took the time to write it, I feel strongly I should pass it on, and share the story of how it came into my life. Ahh, the backstory… so very odd and twisted. Because, well… I’m a writer. 🙂

My husband and I are recently empty nesters and after several years of writing my books in tiny corners of the house in the wee hours, I am giving myself the gift of a proper office. I am in the middle of the remodel now, which is basically converting a bedroom into an office space, which eliminates beds and sleeping quarters AKA guest rooms. While air mattresses are good in a pinch, we decided that we needed a more suitable bed, so invested in a cabinet-style Murphy bed. We have a small house, and the bed (a queen size) wouldn’t fit in the room I am converting to my office, so it is out in the living room which works well. However, there was a sewing cabinet I have had for years that needed to be moved. Since I had nowhere else to put it in the house, and I am actively purging anything I can’t use or don’t have room for, I decided to give it away.

The sewing cabinet had been in my house for no less than 25 years and is a style reminiscent of the 60s, maybe even 50s. I picked it up at a yard sale, for the total cost of $10.00, from a person who just wanted it to move along. It came complete with a working 1950s Singer, and drawers filled with thread, zippers, bobbins, and thimbles. Most likely the furniture had come from an estate, from someone who loved to sew, and possibly was a seamstress, although I am guessing in the 50s most ladies did do a fair amount of mending. I refinished the cabinet, put all the sewing stuff back in the drawers, and there it sat. To say I don’t sew is an understatement. It was time this piece moved out of my life as well.

In cleaning this piece of furniture to get it ready to pass along, my mom (who was helping me organize) found a slip of paper wedged into one of the drawers, tucked behind the decades-old spools of thread on wooden spindles. As you can see from the photo, it was copied most likely by a mimeograph (ditto machine remember those?), or a machine similar to the ones shown in this post https://clickamericana.com/topics/money-work/vintage-copy-machines-office-photocopiers-1960s-1970s-1980s. I thought it would be fun to share its contents with the world, just as it was shared with the people at that Halloween Party all those years ago. There is no title on the paper, so I am naming it by the opening line, and any typos have been recreated.

When I Was Young – by Mrs. Ella Fake

This poem was recited by Mrs. Ella Fake at the Resident’s Holloween party.

So this is where the story goes sideways… Mrs. Ella Fake was just that… a fake! Or was she? As I was lining up this post, I did a search and found a link that led me to some song lyrics by Pete Seeger. Come to find out, while she may have recited the poem at the Resident’s Halloween Party, she may not have been the original author! According to the post, this song was sung in concert by Pete Seeger but, supposedly, he didn’t take credit for writing it. Since the poem doesn’t have a date, I can’t determine just when it was typed, however, my guess is the 1960s based on the age of the cabinet. So who came first? The Ella or the Pete? The plot thickens…

The post lists several names connected to the song, none of which was our dear Mrs. Fake who took the time to type out her notes for her performance. Out of the names listed, the most likely person to have spread these words to the masses was a newspaper journalist who wanted to remain anonymous. If you want to check out the thread, you can see it here: http://holyjoe.org/poetry/anon7.htm

For purposes of preventing a very long journey down an endless rabbit hole, I have not searched beyond what I put in this post. However, I do think it is worth noting that Ella Fake’s poem is set up a little differently than the song and doesn’t include a chorus which makes sense if Mr. Seeger took Ella’s (or someone else’s) words and put them to music. That is pretty feasible in my mind, especially if the stories are true and he didn’t take credit for the lyrics.

The names that have been attributed to authorship include Harold Krebbs, Ebby Rose, Homer A. Shiveley, Art Davis, G.A. Davis, Marian Johnson, Len Ingebrigtsen, Mary Ellen Garrett Ince, Jimmy Driftwood, Phyllys R. Burchill, and John E Denham, according to the above thread, along with the original thread from mudcat.org. In this discussion, D.E. Shiveley states the author was his grandfather, Homer, and that he has an original document to prove it. However, in further digging, it seems that Mr. Shiveley may have passed away in 2016, a few months after posting on the thread. I could be wrong, but that is where my fingers took me… at this point, we may never know the truth.

So back to Ella Fake… maybe she did recite the poem, and maybe Pete Seeger heard her? Maybe there was a prior copy that has been revamped over time? My guess is that it is more likely he saw it in a newspaper (as did she) and worked up a song from there. Perhaps it was printed as anonymous since it had been reworked from other versions such as the one titled “I’m fine, Thank you” by Constance O’Neon. (Who is coming up with these names anyway?) Bottom line, it seems Pete Seeger stayed in New York his entire life, the newspaper referenced in the post was out of St. Louis or possibly Ohio, the sewing machine cabinet was purchased in Michigan (Lord only knows where it came from), and Constance supposedly wrote a poem in 1953, which was published by anonymous in the 30s or 40s, that Pete Seeger converted to a song in the late 70s. It seems this poem made its rounds.

All possibilities aside, writing is some pretty powerful stuff, don’t you think? A poem someone (or several people) penned so long ago is still relevant to readers today. That Ella took the time to perform this at her neighborhood party to bring a little joy to her friends, is something that makes me smile. What makes me happy is that Ella, as fake as she might be (and the actual author’s worst nightmare), has found a new audience for her (or someone else’s) witty and still-relevant poem on aging. I can definitely appreciate this more now than I would have 25 years ago (except for the whole plagiarism thing), so I think it is super cool that the Universe didn’t let me “find” it until now.

I hope one day someone who doesn’t mind falling down the rabbit hole of research, and who has much more patience than me, can solve the mystery of the poem’s origin once and for all. In the meantime, I would like to give credit where it is due. I would like to thank Mrs. Ella Fake, Pete Seeger, Constance O’Neon, Harold Krebbs, Ebby Rose, Art Davis, G.A. Davis, Marian Johnson, Len Ingebrigtsen, Mary Ellen Garrett Ince, Jimmy Driftwood, Phyllys R. Burchill, John E Denham, and last but not least, Homer A. Shiveley, for bringing this poem into my life. It’s nice to know that others have gone through the same journey and managed to keep their sense of humor. I hope we can all do the same. I find laughter makes this world a more beautiful place… don’t you?