Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, July 3, 1993 TAG: 9307030020
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK MORRISON STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LEXINGTON LENGTH: Long
He's still hoping.
But more realistic now, he will settle for less. Edmunds would be happy just to pass along his beloved art of playing the bones to the next generation.
It would be a shame to let a musical instrument that has been around for 5,000 years fade into complete obscurity, he says. The bones are obscure enough as it is.
In fact, Edmunds, 73, is nearly alone when it comes to bones.
A retired doctor, he flirted for more than half a century with his fascination for the simple rhythm instrument before it became a serious pursuit.
Some might even say obsession.
Originally, the bones date back to ancient Egypt and Africa and enjoyed a long heritage in America through the Civil War. They were made from the shank bones of cattle and played by gripping a pair of bones in each hand and smacking them together.
Edmunds first came across the bones at a church retreat in North Carolina when he was 15 years old. "I heard a bunch of kids knocking them around."
A man was selling them and gave the young Edmunds a demonstration. He bought a set right then. He says they were easy to play.
"Once you can hang on to them, you can play."
Playing them well is another story. Back home in Charleston, W.Va., Edmunds didn't play so well. But it wasn't for lack of trying.
"I'd take them to dances and make an annoyance of myself."
To this day, he says he is remembered among his Charleston classmates as the guy with the bones. He even was asked to play them at his 55th high school reunion.
"People thought it was a stupid thing to do. I agreed with them, but I was having fun, so that was the end of that."
His interest in the instrument waned, however, through college, medical school and adulthood. "They would stay in the drawer sometimes two years at a time."
Only occasionally would his interest be rekindled.
One time was at the 1939 World's Fair, where Edmunds met Frank Wolf, the owner of Frank Wolf Percussion Instruments in New York City.
The man who sold Edmunds his first set of bones had told him that they originally came from Wolf's store.
So, Edmunds inquired.
Wolf said he had not carried bones in years.
"He said it was a completely dead art," Edmunds said.
Indeed, Edmunds has done research and found that the bones in America started fading in popularity after the Civil War. (They are featured for about two seconds during a scene in "Gone With The Wind.") By the turn of the century, they were rarely played outside of minstrel shows. By the 1920s, they were rarely played anywhere.
On another occasion, in 1955, Edmunds' interest was sparked again, when he came across the only true set of bones - made from real bones - he has ever seen.
All the other bone sets he has seen were made from wood.
He found his authentic bones in a Savannah, Ga., music store. They were in a dust-covered glass display case in a back storage room that he had wandered into by mistake. He asked to buy them.
"I said how much do you want for those? He said, `What are those?' "
He got them for $3. He calls them his "bone bones."
It wasn't until about eight years ago, though, when he retired to Lexington, that Edmunds developed such a keen passion.
With new-found time on his hands, he took his bones out again. He says he started experimenting with different rhythms and more complex beat patterns.
"Then it dawned on me, `My gosh, write a book for posterity.' "
He wrote two books, one for beginners and one for advanced players. He created 166 different bones exercises and invented his own musical language. A capital "R" means play a "right-handed click." Capital "L" means a "left-handed click," and "T" means play both hands together.
He even writes about how not to play.
"Almost every bones player is so bad that it is embarrassing. Here is the way they play:
" click-a-de-click, click-a-de-click
"click-a-de-ick-a-de-ick-a-de-click
"Just the same thing over and over."
As far as Edmunds knows, his books are the only written instruction on the art of bones playing. He also has made an instructional video.
This then left him with a dilemma. He had the books. He had a video. But he didn't have any bones. How could the next generation carry on the legacy without any bones?
He started thinking big. He contacted some manufacturers and had some prototypes made. "I had a notion that it might go in the direction of the Hula-Hoop or yo-yo or something like that."
He admits now that he got a little carried away.
Radio spots in Lynchburg and Roanoke yielded not a single call. He attended a music merchants' convention in Chicago. Again, nothing.
Finally, he decided to target folk music stores and compiled a list of 150 of them by combing library microfilm of the Yellow Pages from every sizable city in the country. It was a project that took him three solid weeks of eight-hour days.
Then he called the stores; and about half agreed to stock his book, video and bones. After three years now, he says, sales are picking up. He expects to sell $5,000 worth of books and bones this year, and hopes to double that next year.
Who knows? Maybe it will turn into a craze, after all.
"It could happen that this thing could suddenly catch fire."
Fred Edmunds will demonstrate his bones- art on July 4 at Thomas Jefferson's Poplar Forest in Bedford County during its annual Independence Celebration.
by CNB