Historically speaking, many occupations inspired music that told the story of the workers — not only the trials and tribulations but also the triumphs the workers faced on a daily basis. As a child I’ll never forget the song, I’ve Been Working on the Railroad. In fact, Wikipedia identifies over 1,000 “train songs,” dating back to the early part of the 19th Century. An underlying theme in many blues songs is riding the rails, often trying to escape to a better life.
The life of the cowboy has been the subject of countless songs over the years. Early cowboy songs were often created to offset boredom and loneliness that characterized the cowboy life. As the cowboy life became romanticized in later years, the early songs and music played a significant role in the formation of modern day country and western music.
Until the middle of the 20th century, even though the occupation had a rich and colorful history, songs about logging and working in the woods were virtually non-existent. One of the first blips on the musical radar where logging is concerned was a song recorded by an unknown artist from Texas who was living in Portland, Ore.
Willie Nelson, working as a disc jockey in Vancouver, Wash., was also performing as a live musician, trying to establish himself as an entertainer. As his career began to take flight, he thought he needed to record a song or two to build an identity with his audience. According to Nelson, his first song ever pressed to vinyl was called Lumberjack, written by fellow Texan Leon Payne. The song tells the story of a guy who leaves the farm and ends up working in the Oregon timber. Nelson, sold several thousand copies of a black-and-white photo and 45-rpm record set for a buck through KVAN, the radio station where he worked. No doubt the local references in the song helped it sell locally:
I heard the timber out in Oregon calling me.
Hey, won’t you tell me, Mr. Lumberjack,
Is it one for forward and three for back? Is it two for stop and four for go?
Boy, ask the whistlepunk, I don’t know…
Well you work in the woods from morn to night, and you laugh and you sing and you cuss and you fight.
And on Saturday night you go to Eugene, and on Sunday morning your pockets are clean.
Johnny Cash also recorded a cover of that song in 1961; his spoken introduction praises the guts and glory of the loggers around Roseburg, Ore. Both versions of the song can be found online on YouTube — Willie Nelson Recording, Johnny Cash Cover
But the winds of change were starting to stir. Buddy Simmons, the music kingpin in Portland at that time, recalls an incident: “In 1963, I received a letter from a young man from Alsea, Ore. At that time, I had a weekly television program in Portland, ‘Channel 2 Hoedown,’ and was receiving many letters from different talents in the Northwest wanting to be a guest on my program. This young man’s letter was one of these, but this letter was written with such honesty and personal sincerity that after reading it I felt as if I already knew the man. His name was Buzz Martin.” Simmons met Buzz a short time later and Buzz appeared on Simmons’ television show. Simmons was so impressed that he helped Buzz cut his first record.
For many of us, the logging industry is a big part of our family legacy. The history of this heritage is recorded in museums, scrapbooks, and memories of its participants. Stories of the glory days of logging have been passed from generation to generation. One man, a logger from Western Oregon, chose to preserve his heritage with his words and voice.
Lloyd Earl “Buzz’ Martin entered this world on the floor of a tent outside of Coon Holler, near Independence, Ore. Cataracts that developed in his eyes when he was young left him blind, but experimental surgery restored his vision. After losing both of his parents, his older sister Nelly and her husband Bill Woosley, took him in while he was in his early teens, to “raise him up good and proper”.
While living with the Woosley’s, Buzz — an iteration of his childhood nickname, Buster — learned more than could be taught in schools. Bill, a logger by trade, taught him a strong worth ethic, and provided proper instruction in harvesting the forest. “A logger must always be concerned about his surroundings, “ his brother-in-law instructed. “God made the logger to be guardian of the forest; care for it well, and it will always be here for others to share with you.” Sister Nelly would encourage Buzz to sing. “Keep a song in your heart and on your lips,” she would tell him. “Even the toughest burdens are easier to bear when you sing.”
Buzz took to music quickly. Electricity wasn’t available in the Five Rivers area of Western Oregon in 1952 and battery-operated radios were not always available. On rare occasions when a radio was available, they always made sure the battery had a full charge for the Saturday evening performances of the Grand Old Opry. Young Buzz always been a dreamer and he’d dream of stepping out on the stage of the Old Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, performing for the same radio audience he was apart of.
The Woosley clan made their own music. Brother-in-law Bill was a self –taught master of the many instruments. Bill made fiddles, guitars, mandolins, and dulcimers by hand, and played as well as he built them. Cold winter nights would find Buzz and the Woosley boys huddled around the woodstove, learning the finer points of music from Bill.
Buzz had worked most every job in the woods, including timber cutter, high climber, and whistle punk, and he ran most every piece of equipment. After work, however, Buzz made music. His life in logging camps had given him a place to practice singing, and Buzz quickly became the “number-one singer” to his captive audience.
He was writing his own songs by this time, and soon started playing at dances in Waldport, Tidewater, Alsea — anywhere loggers would gather. The songs were about the trials and tribulations that loggers face every day: extremely hard work in less than ideal weather and their frustrations with the logging and trucking business. Real situations involving real people were among Buzz’s subject matter.
Buzz possessed the unique ability to tell a story that was entertaining and humorous as well as authentic. One of his most popular songs was called Fire Danger, which told of the frustrations of working with the freshly college-graduated employees of the U.S. Forest Service:
Them pink-cheeked boys from the middle east, it’s the first time they’ve seen a tree, But they know more about logging than an old timber beast like me.
They’ve gone to college and they’ve learned how to tie ribbons all around, look up in their rule books for a way to close his me down …”
When them boys live their lifespans out and meet their judgment day,
If they make it up to heaven I guess they’ll be okay. But if they go the other direction, they’ll take one look and say,
Satan, look at the fire danger, we gotta close you down.
The music struck a chord with his audience. Because he was one of them, area loggers had walked in Buzz’s caulk boots, and could identify with the words he sang. Buzz once said, “When I step out on a stage of an auditorium full of loggers and mill workers, there is a common bond between us that I can actually feel in the air.”
Buzz’s first recording effort was a 45 rpm record in 1972 of Whistle Punk Pete, with Sick of Settin’ Chokers on the flip side. Sick of Settin’ Chokers was playing on the jukebox in a scene of “Sometimes a Great Notion”, the movie based on the book of the same title by Ken Kesey.
Both songs became regional hits, and that initial success led to recording of four albums on the Ripcord label. Album titles included Where There Walks a Logger, There Walks a Man; A Logger’s Reward; A Logger Finds an Opening; and The Old Time Logger — A Vanishing Breed of Man.
Later recording included “Buzz Martin and the Chips off the Old Block.” The “Chips” were his backup band, made up over the years by various configurations of his children and their spouses.
A later album on the Ranwood label, a company that had national distribution abilities, was received with limited success. Buzz played at county fairs, timber conventions, and trade shows throughout the west. He was a spokesman for several different chain saw manufacturers during his career. Buzz performed at Disneyland in 1973, sharing the stage with some of the biggest country stars of the day.
One of the brightest moments in Buzz’s career was a trip to Nashville to play at the Grand Ole Opry. In the early 1970s, Johnny Cash heard about Buzz Martin. Cash was so impressed with Buzz’s music that he invited him to appear on his television show in 1972. “The only difference between me and Buzz,” Cash said as he introduced Buzz to his television audience, “is that he’s singing about lumberjacks and I’m singing about cotton pickers.”
Buzz’s dream of performing at the Old Ryman Auditorium had come true. Buzz also appeared on film in the biography of Johnny Cash, entitled The Man, His World and His Music. While flying home from his national television debut, Buzz wrote a song to express his thanks to Cash — The Man at the Top Reached Clear to the Bottom to Give This Logger a Helping Hand.
In 1976, the year of the United States’ bicentennial, the Smithsonian Institute honored Americans who best represent regional folklore. Buzz was selected to perform at the week-long festival, representing Oregon in the Festival of American Folk Life.
In his later years, Buzz migrated to Alaska. He worked in the woods, operating heavy equipment and driving truck, and made music by night in local clubs. He hunted, fished, and wrote songs for an upcoming album.
On July 31, 1983, the day before hunting season opened, Buzz set out to scout a promising hunting area and never returned. He was found dead the next day, likely after slipping on rocks in a tide pool he was crossing at low tide and drowning in the incoming tide.
His son, Steve, of Lebanon, Ore., performs many of his father’s songs. His voice is eerily similar to his father’s, and he sings with pride, knowing he is keeping his father’s music and legacy alive.
Other artists have since written and performed songs about the logging industry. One thing they all have in common is they all have covered Buzz Martin songs, either in concert or on their recordings. In one way or another, they all pay homage to the man known as “The Singing Logger”.
Buzz Martin captured his brass ring during a simpler time. Logging wasn’t controlled by politicians who held their special interests above that of their constituents. But then again, given his way with words, can you imagine the fun he might have writing about this today?
Published 2013
It Happened in Oregon... 