JOHN BOEHMER

I had this big corner room on the second floor of that big old red house. There were six windows in my bedroom, so when I would open them all up on hot summer nights it was like sleeping in treetops. When the wind was just right I would lie there and listen to the whistling of the boats on the river, the lions roaring in the zoo, and the streetcars rumbling down St Charles Avenue. And sometimes in the mornings I would hear the strange, ethereal music that the grain elevators would make on the wharves. I think all of those sounds have had a big influence on me. They’ve had a lot to do with the way I think of music, as something that comes from far away. If you’re paying attention you hear it. If you’re not, it’s gone.”

The day that I went back to Webster Street
I followed the long way down
From Carrolton, and the river bend,
Down oak lined streets
Hot summer...
New Orleans...
Uptown...
And as I got closer
the ghosts gathered 'round
In the place where the echoes of memories resound
And all that I saw felt and heard
was profound
on that unremarkable day
The ghosts of my past had there way

From Webster Street
©1999 John Boehmer

THANK YOU!!!

October 20, 2004
WORK IN PROGRESS
With Work in Progress, the idea is to expose the entire evolution of a song from the very first lines, through building of verses complete with all of their original unfocused, confused and occasionally trite imagery, right through to the process of finally tweaking the lyric into what I consider to be a completed song, worthy of an audience’s attention.

JACCOB'S LADDER

My name is Jacob Delecroix
Been pullin' loads on the Union Pacific
Ever since I was a boy of 17 years
A fireman, a brakeman, conductor engineer
900,000 miles
37 years
Of rumblin' from the freight yards
Past the school yards
Through the backyards of America

In the town where I grew up
The people worshipped what they lack
No clean white picket fences
No swing set's in the back
Just chain link and whitewashed shotguns by the tracks
And the trains that I knew so well
My Daddy sold used cars
He loved his bottle more than life
More than his only son
More than his bitter wife
And when he'd step out
You could cut the silence with a knife
Then he'd come back home and turn the place to hell

The day they had the run-in
I jumped off to join the birds and climbed the rail-bed
Walking down the tracks
I counted crossties between my feet and the sky
Dreaming of a place where those two rails converge
Somewhere on the horizon
It looked just like a ladder stretched across the earth
Across the face of time
And right on into heaven!

In every town that passes children wave as I go by
I see ordinary people
living ordinary lives
And though I covet their existence
Here's a heartache they could never understand
So I drive these "God's of Iron"
but they will never let me steer
And the miles pass
and the weeks pass
and then another year
When you hear a freight train coming
Then you see it disappear
You'll know where I am...

Lord
Just give me wings so I can fly
Cause I've been knockin' on heavens door
Aren't you listening anymore?
Why don't you ever answer
'Cause I've run out of tears to cry
And I don't want to ride these rails anymore
If they won't take me to the shores of Heaven
Take me home

Pictured from left to right are my nephew Damien, my brother Tom and my sister-in-law Janet, my sister Charlotte, my father Richard, my niece Ellen, Charlottes husband Christian, and Ellen's husband Ed.

Thanks to many generous friends, we were able to raise almost than $6,000 with which the Boehmers of Biloxi and Ocean Springs Mississippi will buy essential appliances like refrigerators, stoves, for repairs to home heating and air conditioning units, and to purchase construction materials and hire contractors. Thanks to everyone who helped out with donations, with the Benefit Concert on the 17th of September or simply by expressing your concern. But most important of all, you have shown them that there are many people all over the country who are troubled by the massive personal losses families all over the gulf coast have incurred.

KATRINA PHOTOS

Photographs and the Katrina Journal entries from my recent trip down to Biloxi, Ocean Springs and Eastern Louisiana are available to view right now. Just visit the IMAGES page. (Caution: Broadband or DSL only -- the photo gallery takes several seconds to load)

" For me, songwriting is a way to express the inexpressible. There are things that I often can't say to people in normal conversation because the context is inappropriate. With songwriting you create your own context. So I can speak about things with my music that I would not otherwise be able to talk about. For me, songwriting is a way of reaching out to the world"