A TRIBUTE TO THE PAN TUNER, Wallace Austin!
And all those who are not recognized for their contributions.
To those who know, I grow up in Morvant,
By Tanty Linda on Plover Street,
Playing Pan with Teenage Serenaders,
And Ebonites in the Carnival heat.
Well today I see on the Internet
How they mention Wallace Austin.
So, I have a few words to add on
About this man and his pan tuning,
By the Corner of Plover and Cicada St.
It used to have a big Tambran’ tree,
And just to the side of the Peschiers house,
He would sink and bun pan wid glee.
In the fiftys, I was a teenager,
And Wallace was a big man to me,
So By now I guess, I don’t want to lie,
He must be two hundred and three.
Through the sun and rain, the heat or cold,
The man never gave up the practice,
It take some mistakes, but I make the point,
The years of experience giving its notice.
Wallace stay in the trench experimenting,
But was also a family man,
And I can’t forget all those pleasant times
In Brooklyn, then smoke mash up his plan.
Well Wallace boy, is long time we ent see,
But I have to say my few pleasantries,
Thanks for the memories from a Morvant friend,
And just enjoy your old age wid ease.
So when they hear your second pans ringing out,
And they hear your bass grumbling,
Tell dem is no joke, yuh inhale plenty smoke,
To have yuh pans and dem happily singing.
Wid One Love! Hollis ‘Flash’ Lashley.
