Throughout the community, we would gather and make music, My Dad, Clint, played the fiddle most of the time, however he was pretty good on a banjo. Oh, I would fiddle a little some times but he was the star. His brother Millard had a store bought banjo and was very good with it. Siler, the younger brother played a guitar and sometimes a french harp at the same time. People came from throughout the community to talk and hear them play. Telling the same stories over and over. While they played the same tunes over and over.
The only prize I ever got was at Gray, Kentucky, at the Depot. I was outside playing the fiddle where several gathered around to hear me. I must have been good, or perhaps I looked hungry , for a fellow brought a big candy bar and gave it to me. I prefer to think of it as a 1st prize.
The band finally broke up, I went to the CCC, then in the Navy, Millard moved away, My Dad died, Siler went to Evarts to live. By that time radios were here and people began to have less time.
Thus was the end of an era, that will live on in my memory and perhaps the memory of others, for ever.
John Ray Partin
