by Arlene Rabin, New Tripoli, PA

July 2005 my husband and I attended the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in upstate N.Y. We were sitting on the ground in front of the main stage, and it was in between acts. I believe we were waiting for acoustic Hot Tuna. It was a glorious day, and a crowd of maybe a thousand people or more were spread out over the hillside, some seated, some still walking down from the camping area up over the hill.

They play recorded music over the loud speakers in the breaks between acts. They are playing California Guitar Trio’s delightful instrumental rendition of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” We start singing the words and as we looked around, we noticed just about everyone was singing. The singing grew louder and louder, and more confident until the entire hillside was a cacophony of voices, some singing harmonies and background and counterpoint. It didn’t seem to matter that some people got the verses mixed up or that we don’t all know the exact words. The song ended triumphantly with everyone standing and cheering as if Queen had just finished the song on stage. But no one was on the stage.

I am 55 years old and have been going to folk festivals since age 20. It was my favorite moment at a folk festival and no one was on stage! This teaches us the difference between a song and a great opus: The opus gets imprinted in our individual and collective minds and transcends generations. Bohemian Rhapsody is imprinted in our minds much like Beethoven’s Fifth was for previous generations. It was a glorious moment.