It occurs to me that our great town has no song to call its own, nothing distinct to play at Elm Fest, the Memorial Day Parade, or other festivities and with which to rally our community spirit and bring a tear to the eye. There are songs about many other American cities. We know, for example, that everything’s up to date in Kansas City, that someone’s got a gal in Kalamazoo but somehow left his heart in San Francisco and perhaps that’s why he never met me in St. Louis! We’ll never forget to spell Dallas with a big D. We’re aware that a man actually danced with his wife in Chicago, that in New York the Bronx is up and the Battery’s down, and if we’re lost, we need only to shuffle off to Buffalo or be comforted that the Chattanooga Choo Choo will choo choo us home — that is, if we know the way to San Jose and don’t forget to mention your name in Sheboygan.
As a self-appointed amateur Elmhurst historian, I know that we’ve had among our residents a poet and historian in Carl Sandburg, a great painter in G.P.A. Healy, and a friend and pall bearer of President Abraham Lincoln in Thomas Barbour Bryan. Currently, we have writers, journalists, artists and musicians among our residents. Why, then, shouldn’t one of these talented people write a song extolling the virtues of Elmhurst?
I’ve been pondering this conundrum partly because I’m a volunteer with the Elmhurst Historical Museum, which will be celebrating the grand re-opening of the Churchville One Room Schoolhouse next spring. How better to commemorate this historic event than with a song?
Having limited musical ability myself, I thought I could at least try my hand at some lyrics. Yes, I know, that traditionally the music is written first, the lyrics later. However, I seem to remember that Gilbert wrote the lyrics first before presenting them at the last minute to poor Sullivan, who then had only a short time to compose the music, so my idea is not without precedent. Anyway, here goes:
There ain’t no elms in Elmhurst anymore.
The trains are here, but now there’s two not four.
There’s no blasting in the quarry
And no swimming in Salt Creek,
And I’ve got some brand new neighbors
Right next door!
This prairie town was once devoid of trees
And it wasn’t a very shady place to be,
So Tom Bryan and Seth Wadhams
Planted lots and lots of elms
To make this spot a lovely glade to see.
It used to be the people that we’d greet
Would point out all the elms on every street.
Now there’s maples and there’s lindens
And oaks and larches, too,
But the elms have beat a really mean retreat.
Some good people might be happy to remind me
Of all that our great town is famous for
Of Prairie Path, museums, parks, and movies,
And Elmhurst College right at our front door.
I laugh and nod my head in sage agreement
As I think of restaurants and each new store,
But believe me it’s no joke
What’s an egg without a yolk?
There ain’t no elms in Elmhurst anymore.
Okay, I admit it’s not Cole Porter or Irving Berlin. In fact, it stinks, but readers, I challenge you. The Elmhurst Historical Museum challenges you, and I suggest further, that the Elmhurst Historical Museum might want to sponsor a competition with the winner having his music/lyrics performed by the Elmhurst College Jazz Band next spring at the Churchville One Room Schoolhouse. Don’t get your hopes up because I have discussed this with neither the museum nor the college, but wouldn’t it be fun and wouldn’t all the other towns be soooooooooooo jealous!!
Send comments and ideas to elmhurstovereasy@comcast.net
