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THE SATURDAY SUN-HERALD/MIKE RAMSEY
4
Jack Moran accompanies his father on guitar
ru as
a fiddle and spry with rye
By EMILY GERMANIS
PEOPLE EDITOR
Sylvester Moran, a fiddler from way back, picks tunes, as they say, that reflect a diminishing range of American folk music infused with that salt-of-the-earth spirit.
His son, Jack, calls it a “blue-grass" type of music.
The songs range from the backwoods of South Mississippi to -never-never land, it seems. Two melodies the elder Moran ‘picks' are prime examples of local folk fiddling. One, he calls, ‘‘Bayou La Croix.” Another is (Li)“Zana Holy Waltz.”
The music was fitting to its surroundings. Country fiddling in his day was the background music to what may have been one of the last singular geographic corners of America — a corner of the world pregnant with sawmills, Confederate flags, Jesus and bad whiskey. “Rye Whiskey,” remembers Sylvester Moran, was one of the songs popular back at the old country dance halls he frequently played.
“They didn't get paid back then,” he tells of the musicians he followed from dance to