“Cuyahoga” - a song about discarding
1868, 1883, 1887, 1912, 1922, 1936, 1941, 1948, 1952, and 1969. Documented instances of times the Cuyahoga River caught fire.
Story Pairing
There is a big tree by my house that I have talked about plenty, it’s called the signal tree, and it’s amazing. It’s a giant oak tree that is shaped like a trident. It was used by natives as a meeting point, and a landmark, and now it is nestled into the Summit Metroparks. I wrote the bulk of this song while sitting in front of that tree and just a couple hundred feet from the banks of the Cuyahoga. It started with the idea of sending a message in a bottle down a polluted river and went from there.
Currently, starting in 2023, you can’t get to that tree or that portion of the river, but for good reason. They are working on removing the final damn in the Cuyahoga River. Once removed, the river will run free, and I have a feeling that it will equate to a boom in tourism and at the very least it will mean that locals, both human and critter, with be able to appreciate this special river in all of it’s glory.
At shows I often tell the story of how the river was on fire for days and from that the EPA came into existence… but I am wrong, and my story needs amending. In doing some research for this musing I came across multiple articles and brushed up on my history. You can read more about the entire debacle, and specifically the 1969 fire that sparked it all, here.
The TLDR, is that the river used to catch on fire all the time. There are over a dozen documented fires on that river and horror stories of falling in and the pollution throughout. The 1969 fire actually only lasted around 30 minutes, and created 50K of damage. However it grew in fame as it was shared as a place to plant flags around environmental movements. Pictures from past fires were shared, and Time magazine and Nat Geo had a piece on the burning river and our “Ecological Crisis”. By 1970 we had the EPA and a lot of eyes familiar with our cute little burning river.
Fast forward and now we can see fish and animals coming back to river that were once said would never return. You can even eat fish from the river again (although I think it’s suggested no more than 1-2/month). Regardless, I love the thought of nature taking back a piece of herself. It’s horrible when we destroy beautiful natural wonders. Equally wonderful is when those places can push through our heavy touch and breathe life back into their majesty.
The Cuyahoga River really is a beautiful thing. To float down it on a boat is to find yourself in a twisting turning corridor of awe. From bone white sycamores lining the banks, smooth gray clay adorning the walls, great herons gliding past while clamping nesting sticks, kingfishers (a personal favorite) playing up and down the waterway, beavers, trout, turtles, muskrat, deer, otter, and so many other pieces of a greater tapestry, they are each individually fantastic.
Song Structure
Chords: Em / C / Am / B - messing around with those will cover your bases.
*Capo on the 3 is where I play it typically.
Voice Memos
Notebook Page
June 2020
Lyrics
I'm going down to Cuyahoga with my bottle
Down to Cuyahoga with my will
Send down this old river to another
I'm looking, and I haven't found it still
I'm looking, and I haven't found it still
I'm gonna rest my broken bones in the soft clay
I'm gonna rest my broken bones upon the shore
Maybe that dark rain cloud will wash me
Maybe I won't hurt so bad no more
Maybe I won't hurt so bad no more
Nobody's listening, nobody cares
I'm begging them nightmares not to haunt me
I'm begging them nightmares not to stay
Go far from the places we once wandered
I'm frightened I might not get my way
I'm frightened I might not get my way
Nobody's listening, nobody cares
I'm going down to Cuyahoga with my bottle
Down to Cuyahoga with my will
Send down this old river to another
I'm looking, and I haven't found it still
I'm looking, and I haven't found it still