It was way back in 2011 that I first heard the delightful clang and pluck of the Spirit of ’29. Eliot Kenin was the leader, He’s the tidy looking one with the banjo in the middle. He happened to live in Martinez and I thought that might soften his heart towards its crazy beaver story and make him inclined to grace our festival stage. I don’t think he loved the animal part of so much, but he was greatly amused by the people part, and the fight-city-hall-and-win part.
I was delighted when he talked it over with his members and agreed to play on our tiny hot stage. He brought his 5 piece band Dixieland band to brighten that tiny stage in the old beaver park. All those musicians barely fit on those wooden pallets we used to borrow from the John Muir Association back then. The music immeediately felt right, timeless, ageless, spirited against the machine of progress. Doing things the old way. Like the beavers.
The Spirit of ’29 graced us every year afterwards, including 2023. It was always a bright star in our line-up and sometimes there were brave souls who danced. Last summer I was called by a band member before the festival saying Eliot was in the hospital but confirming that the rest of the band would be there anyway. He said it wasn’t anything to worry about, a chronic condition that had happened before. He was sure he would be back making music soon.
6 weeks later Eliot died.
I actually didn’t learn about it until yesterday when I read about his memorial and the support it garnered. I can hardly believe that he shared his music with us for 10 summers and we barely met and now won’t meet again. Eliot was a singer, songwriter and activist which I guess is why the Martinez story appealed. He brought music to many many lives and his spirit made our little festival official.
I don’t know about you, but I will still be hearing Dixieland in my mind at the festival. Thank you, Eliot.
