Here we are at the birth of a new adventure: a new newspaper for an old tradition. A newspaper for those of us who have been around the folk music scene for a while, as well as one for those who are new to this community. And, it is a community in the realist sense of the word.

Which brings me to the LA subway…

Bear with me…

I recently had reason to use the Los Angeles Metro Link system for the first time. The Metro Link is the LA version of Paris Metro, the London Tube. And, just like LA, it is glitzy and expensive, without much “there,” there. It goes only a short distance with a lot of fanfair, but it suited my purposes; to get downtown from the San Fernando Valley while avoiding the traffic and the hassle of finding reasonably priced parking. I was very single minded, I might even say narrow-minded, when I started out on my little underground adventure. I wanted transportation and nothing else.

Now, I have always considered myself to be an average Angeleno – addicted to my car. And, while in my car I am safe, solitary, in control, and private, and, I like it that way. Being alone in my car is as natural and soothing as being in my bathtub, with the added benefit of being able to vent at strangers with little or no consequences. I mutter and sputter at other souls who will never know what is going on in my little space, and I’m better off not knowing. I make up my own rules, which rarely apply to me or my driving, and I become enforcer and judge of all who come near me. I am queen of the road, just as I am queen of the bath!!

But, one day, for very practical reasons, I found myself gliding down a steep escalator into another way of being. Into the LA subway system.

And, I didn’t like it. Oh, it was clean enough, seemed safe, and, except for a baffling ticketing system, seemed straightforward enough. Get on here, get off there, job done, mission accomplished.

I followed the signs, and found myself sitting in a shiny new subway car, rattling out of the North Hollywood Station bound for Pershing Square. I sat on a plastic seat, which was clean enough and even had a little padding.

So far, so good.

But then, other people got on the train, too. All kinds of people. They kept getting on and getting off all during my trip. And, despite my best efforts to pretend I was still queen, they knocked me off my throne.

I mean I knew there would be other people, but I wasn’t expecting them to be so, so real! And, they spoke to each other, sometimes just out of courtesy, sometimes like old friends. And, sometimes they even spoke to me! There was a couple from Switzerland who were here for a trade show downtown and were look- ing to kill a few hours between seminars. Did I think they should go to NoHo or City Walk? Could I help them? They wanted to know my opinion!

Then, there was the Orthodox Jewish teenager from Woodland Hills who was out for his first adventure alone. Everything from the purchasing of a ticket to the art on the walls was a wonder to him. He was bright eyed, clean cut and seemed like something out of Catcher in the Rye.

An African-American woman with an armful of potted plants that she was taking to market, pointed out each one to the Korean woman next to her and explained what it could be used for. One for migraines, another for tight bowels, another to soothe a baby’s rash. They had never met before, but there they were behaving like housewives yacking over the backyard fence.

And, the oh-so-young girl who sat across from me with her crying newborn. Finally, she slipped the baby under her tank top and sat, red faced, as the baby found the nipple and   quieted down.  Everyone watched the un-folding drama, yet swiftly looked away as the baby started to nurse. I smiled.

There was the drunk who looked so confused and much more harmless to me then he would have on the street. There were no dark corners here and he was like a member of a wedding party who had been invited but didn’t quite know how to act. He wanted to make a good impression while he was here, but didn’t know which fork to use. So, he just sat and grinned at everyone.

Some people smiled at me, some didn’t. Some made polite conversation, some chatted up a storm, and some avoided even casual eye contact. Teenagers, in loud clusters, came in, dominating the space for 10 minutes with their crudeness and high energy. A single businessman stared out the window pretending he had important things to think about. They all mingled: sound and breath, smells and looks. Languages understood and not, clothes matched and mismatched, colors expected and not expected, all those people jumbled together, all in front of me, on a Tuesday afternoon.

This was my Los Angeles. This was my community, my people, my homeland.

I was totally unprepared for this meeting of me and my community, but over time, as I continued to take the subway over the next week or so, I allowed each trip to be a mirror of me and my world. And, I learned a new way into the universe.

Which almost brings me right back to our new newspaper – FolkWorks…

Do you know that bowling alley leagues are down across the country?

People just aren’t coming out to mingle and throw big balls down long wooden lanes like they used to. We’re not forming clubs, making practice dates, having celebratory bar-b-ques like we used to. Once upon a time we had a strong sense of community, now it’s gone.

Too much bother? Easier to sit alone on a couch and watch bowling on TV? More comfortable to sit in a car and drive downtown alone than to be in that awkward press of humanity on public transportation?

Safer to vote by absentee ballot than go down and meet your neighbors at the local polling place.

Shop online.

One after another our communities, our social glues, are dissolving.

But, no! Halt! Stop right there! Wait a minute!!! Not ours! We are a special breed! We are a very special kind of community that is not about to dissolve. FolkWorks is here to celebrate a very strong, important, vibrant and needed com- munity. This is not some new fad or effortless amusement. The folk music crowd has been, and will be, around for a long time.

And, we touch, we talk, we accept new, even strange people into our midst.

Old and new at the same time. We hearken back to a time when the only music one heard was the music that was self-made. The only way to obtain new music was from another human being. Your social community was your life, your love, your thread to the universe. And your community was full of music and dance.

Music that came from every country that your community had ever had ties to. It took work, concentration, dedication, planning and practice.

Dance that meant touching, holding, sweating and laughing.

We also hearken forward to creating a new definition of community. A com- munity that includes all that is natural, real, homey, and simple. A community that doesn’t demand more and more, bigger and greater. A community that loves what is now, here, real, uncomplicated.

FolkWorks will track the members of our community, celebrate their lives and our lives, tell us where and when to meet again, call on us to dance and sing, help us to teach and learn, encourage us to create, and try again.

We are gathering around the fire, drums in hand, to beat the beat of community, of family.

Much like the LA subway system. I raise my glass to a long, long trip.

Terry Squire Stone has been around the LA dance community since the early 1970’s and was one of the founders of the LA Contradance Society when she and Desmond Strobel put together the first “Bi-Monthly Balls” at Miles Playhouse in Santa Monica. She has also performed English & American country dance, European court dance, and 19th century ballroom dance at various venues throughout the Los Angeles area and danced with such groups as Liberty Assembly and the Antique Dance Academy. She is currently living and writing in Van Nuys.

NOTE: In 2024, Terry Stone is living with her husband in Galaxidi, Greece with her husband Alan Stone who for all the years we produced the hardcopy FolkWorks newspaper, did all the layout. Both were invaluable to keeping FolkWorks going and making it as successful as it is. Thanks Alan and Terry!