Jumpin' Judy

In the early 1930s, John and Alan Lomax visited several prison farms across the South in hopes that African-American songs about slavery would be preserved.  What they found, instead, were songs about life in prison then - work songs. In Jumpin' Judy, a song characterized by the rhythmic beat of axes hitting trees in unison, Allen Prothro sings about real struggles faced by inmates at his prison in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  Wanting to know more about the history of the song, I did some research and discovered that Judy was a common name used in Southern prison songs, and the word 'jumpin' was used to describe how inmates reacted to angry guards.  In a slow and gritty voice, Mr. Prothro sings the story of a prisoner coming up against a violent guard and wanting to report it to his captain, who has been gone for a very long time (for me, this part of the song hit me hard because it let me know how careless prison organizers were with their inmates).  His captain ends up not caring about the abuse the prisoner is receiving from the guard, and the songs ends with singing about the desire to escape.  What's most upsetting to think about is that this song was not one man's story.  Prothro even sings that there are Jumpin' Judy's all over this world. It is crazy and saddening to me that so many people could relate to being in such a helpless position.

Jumpin’ Judy, jumpin’ Judy, hanh!
Jumpin’ Judy, jumpin’ Judy, hanh!
Jumpin’ Judy, jumpin’ Judy, hanh!
All over dis worl’, hanh, all over dis worl’, hanh!

Well you kick an’ stomp an’ beat me,
Well you kick an’ stomp an’ beat me,
Well you kick an’ stomp an’ beat me,
Da’s all I know, da’s all I know.

Yonder come my cap’n,
Yonder come my cap’n,
Yonder come my cap’n,
Who has been gone so long, who has been gone so long.

Gonna tell him how you treat me,
Gonna tell him how you treat me,
Gonna tell him how you treat me,
So you better git gone, so you better git gone.

He got a 44,
He got a 44,
He got a 44,
In-a his right han’, in-a his right han’.

Gonna take dis ol’ hammer,
Gonna take dis ol’ hammer,
Give it back to jumpin’ Judy,
An’ tell her I’m gone, suh, an’ tell her I’m gone.

Ef she asks you was I runnin’,
Ef she asks you was I runnin’,
Ef she asks you was I runnin’,
You can tell I’s flyin’, you can tell I’s flyin’.

Tell ‘er I crossed de St. John’s River,
Tell ‘er I crossed de St. John’s River,
Tell ‘er I crossed de St. John’s River,
Wid my head hung down, wid my head hung down.

Down in the valley

Notes on the song:

I love the sound of the man and woman's voices dueting in the recording that was given to us.  I find the entire song incredibly relaxing despite it essentially being about heartbreak.  I especially love the quiet dinging of something in the background, unclear if this is meant to be the sound of a train, and if it is, unclear if it is intentional or not (since we have talked about old recordings picking up on natural background sounds).  "Hang your head over, hear the wind blow"- I've done this. I just imagine resting my head on the window of a car and hearing and feeling the wind pass by. It's an incredibly sensory lyric. Also, wind is one of my favorite things.  

On my piece for this week:

I imagined being in the mountains, in the woods, and just envisioned an ominous scene.  In my mind, the jail in the song is Down in the Valley, in the foreboding woods.  Up the mountain is a woman waiting for a response to her question - "Will you be mine?"