I had the most wonderful time at the Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival in Nova Scotia. I was there with the Eastern Belles and I was struck again by how truly this is a folk festival. The audience loves old folk songs, loves to engage and sing along and also is genuinely interested in each act for who they are and their original music. It feels, maybe, like stepping back into the 1960’s when folk music and pop music were one and the same.

So thank you, Lunenburg, for that.

During the weekend there was a 2 hour Ron Hynes tribute that I was a part of alongside Dave Gunning, the Fortunate Ones and the Ennis Sisters. It was a beautiful experience sharing the songs of Ron but also so many stories.

There were about 200 people crowded into the Lunenburg Schoolhouse and it was so intimate. We all laughed and cried together.

I had decided to play 1962, which is my favourite of his songs, but I needed one more and so I chose to play Godspeed. Now, Godspeed is a song that Ron Hynes wrote right after my dad died and it’s a farewell to a man who took his life and it questions why but in kindness and compassion.

Ron always told me how he had been meaning to get together with Gene (my dad) to co-write a song. He had finally worked up the courage to call him when he heard the news that my dad had died. Ron was devastated. He told me how just days afterward Godspeed came to him like a gift from Gene, like they finally got their co-write. As I got older and started my own career in music, I was fortunate enough to be able to tour with Ron and see him play many times. Every night, Ron would play Godspeed and I would always cry my eyes out.

From the Gene MacLellan Tribute, Ron Hynes & Catherine MacLellan:

It never occurred to me, after Ron died, until this weekend in Lunenburg, that I would never hear him sing that song again, that yet another connection to my father was lost. I thought how there is no one left to sing this song that will mean anything to me, that could be authentic and genuine for my experience. Another thread had broken. And, God, how I miss Ron. I’ve been doing so much healing over the past few years over the loss of my father, and losing Ron was huge. A friend, a mentor, a hero, a connection to my past. I always felt Ron could just stand on stage and say nothing, and we, the audience, would sit in awe, his stage presence was so powerful.

I remember just after Ron passed, his nephew Joel wrote a piece about how - yes – Ron was a legend and amazing, but he was also a man afflicted and consumed by his addictions. And that although Ron had had cancer, what really killed him was his demons. So when I learned Godspeed, I was singing it not only to honour Ron Hynes and my father, but to flip that song around because now it also speaks to me of Ron’s passing. A tortured soul who never got control of his addictions and in the end they took him away from us. He didn’t take his life like my father, but in some ways he did.

So at the tribute this weekend, we sat and talked and sang and shared and laughed and cried. As the circle of sharing came back to me, after an emotional roller coaster ride, I picked up my guitar and started to play the song. My fingers were trembling and the next thing I knew I was weeping In front of the crowd. I tried to start the song and just couldn’t. I got up and walked out.

I went to the bathroom and wept like I hadn’t in a long time. These guttural sounds were coming out of my throat and I felt full on wailing grief. The show continued on without me and Andrew, from the Fortunate Ones gave me a glass of water and a big hug, thank god – I really needed it.

I felt so embarrassed, usually I can keep it together on stage, and I was thinking “who am I to feel this much grief over Ron.” But I somehow managed to pull myself together, walked back on stage, listened to more stories from everyone and then, without saying a word or explaining why I wanted to play the song or why I was such a mess, I launched into Godspeed. Dave Gunning sat beside me and helped me through it. I was shaky but I felt supported by everyone around me and I got through it somehow. When I ended the song I put down my guitar and looked up as the entire room stood up in applause.

They got it. Without me explaining, they understood. Now, as I sit here and write this, I am still crying. Crying in grief but also gratitude, so thankful to be able to share something like that, no matter how hard it was.

From that point on in the weekend, people kept coming up to me and hugging me, like I was their child, like they understood.

What other festival would this happen at? So – thank you Lunenburg. Thank you for your beauty, for your enthusiasm for songs, for your deep love of songwriters and for being real people who see us crazy musicians as real people too.

“God only knows
What takes a petal from a rose
What makes the dark rivers overflow
What makes a lifetime come and go…
Godspeed, Godspeed…”

All my love,
Catherine