I
had the great pleasure of participating in a special dance evening on
Sunday. Dubbed “Ernie’s Favorites,” the program honored the
memory of the late Ernie Spence (1925–2011), a beloved dancer in
the Boston area.
For
many years a vice-principal of the Reading, MA, High School, Ernie
was a long-time dancer, going back to summers in the late 1940s
working at the Sargent Camp in the Monadnock region of New Hampshire.
He and his wife Joan became enthusiastic dancers, and they started
making regular trips from the Boston area on weekends to dance to the
calling of Duke Miller at his popular dance series in Fitzwilliam,
NH.
In
an interview for the “Paid To Eat Ice Cream” video, the
Spences recalled, “The phone would start ringing on Monday with
kids calling to reserve a space for the weekend.” Ernie and Joan
would fill up the back of their station wagon with eager students;
that’s how noted dance musician Peter Barnes and many others got
their first exposure to the world of traditional squares and contras.
Ernie
was a delight on the dance floor, a smooth and stylish dancer who
took gentlemanly care of his partners.
I remember that on those rare
occasions when I’d get to a Boston area dance, I’d ask some terrific
young dancer for the next dance, only to find—time and again—that
she was already booked, to dance with Ernie. In fact, it seemed that
all the hot young women dancers lined up to book dances with him.
In
his later years, Parkinson’s disease forced him to cut back his
dancing to just one or two nights a week. Even though his mobility
then limited him to a much smaller space on the dance floor, Ernie
still was among the best dancers to be found, never at a loss for a
partner; I loved watching his graceful carriage, his exquisite
timing, the attentive smile bestowed on his partners, and the
omnipresent twinkle in his eye.
One
of the other speakers at the dance recalled a conversation with
Ernie, commenting that the vice-principal’s role usually called for
dealing with kids in disciplinary situations. Ernie replied that all
day he was working with kids who had problems of one sort or another,
and it was a treat for him to go to a dance where no one has
problems.
The
evening was a benefit for the Parkinson’s Foundation and the Concord
Scout House was packed. One long wall of the hall was festooned with
the matching outfits—dress and shirt in dramatic prints—that Joan
Spence had sewn over the years; these were placed in a silent auction
to raise additional funds for the Foundation. I was told afterwards afterwards that the event raised $3,640.
One
table was filled with a pile of photographs, free for the taking,
duplicate copies of the hundreds taken by Ernie over the years; many
of his prints and slides and video and audio recordings of Boston
area dances are being donated by the family to the Library
of Traditional Music and Dance at the University of New
Hampshire. He loved to dance, so he rarely stood behind his
camcorder; instead, he’d put it on a tripod, press record, and would
enjoy himself on the dance floor. His videos are a valuable record of
the vibrant Boston scene over several decades.
The
dance program consisted mostly of old favorites, compositions that
New England dancers have enjoyed for many decades. In fact, the first
caller, Nell Wright, took a quick poll after announcing Chorus Jig,
and appropriately decided that no walkthrough was necessary. Tod
Whittemore did the same, launching right into his square and the
whole hall rang out singing the chorus.
In
many ways, the program was a delightful recreation of a typical
evening from the 1970s, before the contras-only craze took off. (Keep in
mind that an evening dance billed as a “contra dance”
didn’t happen until the mid-1970s.) In the space of two hours of
dancing on Sunday night, we enjoyed plenty of couple dances, three
squares, five traditional contras one recent contra composition.
Beyond that, there was plenty of time for socializing, catching up
with friends, and sharing memories.
For
the record, here’s the program, which was ably coordinated by Sue
Rosen:
Polka
Chorus
Jig, called by Nell Wright
Smoke
on the Water, called by Tod Whittemore
Because,
Just Because, called by Walter Lenk
Gay
Gordons
Hull’s
Victory, called by Lisa Greenleaf
Rory
O’More, called by Lisa Greenleaf
Waltz
—break—
Salty
Dog Rag, sung by Tony Parkes
Nellie
Gray, called by Tony Parkes
Trip
to Margaree, written and called by Sue Rosen
Road
to the Isles
Petronella,
called by Steve Zakon-Anderson
Money
Musk, called by David Millstone
Polka
Waltz
Here
are the musicians who took turns playing the tunes:
Carol
Bittenson
Cal
Howard
Stuart
Kenney
Debby
Knight
Walter
Lenk
Bob
McQuillen
Vince
O’Donnell
Bruce
Rosen
Henry
Yoshimura