JONESBOROUGH, Tennessee—The tiny, historic, cobblestone paved, apple-laden, cow-surrounded village of Jonesborough, Tennessee hosted thousands of people last weekend. For thirty-five years, storytellers have come together the first weekend in October to celebrate stories.
"It was four people sitting in the back of a pickup truck," (in 1972) said storyteller Rosemary Glenn of Roswell, Georgia. Now it is thousands of people coming to hear the best of the best storytellers, liars, and tall tale-tellers from all over the world.
Gene Tagaban told at the festival for the first time this year. He started "One Crazy Raven" with soft drumming and chanting…the crowd was rapt. He was going to reveal the mystic paths he trod to become a raven dancer. "My journey began when I walked into…a Starbucks in Los Angeles, California." He turned stereotypes upside down, inside out, and tied them into bows. He mocked, but he mocked with humane warmth that never denigrated anyone.
He took us to his childhood in Alaska, where he and his brother liked to hide inside circular clothing racks in stores and surprise shopping ladies. He took us on a ship with his teacher, who taught him to appreciate the quivering strength of the Orca. Made him give the whale a fancy, free-range vegetarian chicken he'd bought for the teacher's dinner. Bit by bit he shared components of the raven dancer ensemble, each time exclaiming, "Cool," as he put it on.
Tagaban mixed humor, musicality, movement and deep respect for ancestors and elders. The festival brochure quoted arts reviewer Flip Breskin "next time you hear he's performing, drop everything and go. Simple as that."
Life Is a Story
We asked him what he would like to tell our readers. He replied, "Life is a story. Make it a good one."

From a pickup truck on a town square, the festival spawned an International Storytelling Center and The National Storytelling Network. The variety and quality of the performers may be unique. We had abolitionist stories and the silliest possible tall tales. A Medieval noblewoman disguised as a boy so she could inherit her fathers lands. Ghosts. Bassett Hound-German Shepherd mixes of great tenacity. Talking Buffalos with their shoelaces tied together. Grammy winners, Emmy winners.
Freedom Won, Freedom Lost
Atlanta resident Bobby Norfolk crafted an extraordinary piece which started 500 years ago with Galileo understanding planets are round and continued with the Founding Fathers, and Henry "Box" Brown, who mailed himself out of slavery. Norfolk wove modern idioms, dance moves and jokes into his narrative, yet he made a passionate tribute to, "Freedom won, freedom lost. We're in the land where freedom is unlimited. Let's make sure we keep it that way," said Norfolk.
Forty Foot Tongue
Actress Dolores Hydcock creaked onto the stage as an English crone. She had found a manuscript from the Middle Ages which told of an only daughter whose parents raised her as a boy. Hydock made the manuscript into a one woman show with layers of irony, philosophy, yearning, beauty. Bil Lep explained what happened when he tried to help his dog, Buck, overcome his fear of guns. A forty foot long tongue, a flying train, a seventy ton ball of ice and a bear with all his fur singed off were a few of the consequences he did not anticipate.
Historic drought and record breaking heat marred the atmosphere of the festival. It was sweltering, when it should have been crisp. The many fat pumpkins and hay bales and mums decorating the town looked a little out of place in a heat wave. Ice cream was more attractive than barbecue. Apple cider was not working at all, but water was quite popular.
While Gene Tagaban was performing on Sunday, a man collapsed from the heat. After calling for a doctor, Tagaban led the hundreds in the audience in a soft "Amazing Grace" and then in prayer. Someone relayed the news that he was all right, and after allowing what felt like enough time, for people to feel reassured, Tagaban continued his stories. It was gentle.






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