Biography:
Elizabeth Eaton Converse was born in Laconia, New Hampshire in 1924, the middle child of three siblings. She was bookish, the valedictorian her class at Concord High School, and described by most who knew her to be a polymath. She attended Mt. Holyoke College on an academic scholarship beginning in 1942, studied French, and wrote for several campus publications. By 1944 she decided to leave college, at which point the records of her whereabouts are sparse until about 1949, when she made her way to New York City.
There were two major developments during Elizabeth’s time in New York. The first was her procurement of her nickname “Connie.” It is unclear how or why or when exactly, but the name stuck. The second was Connie’s burgeoning interest in playing and writing music, first for guitar and later for piano. No doubt this stemmed from her love of poetry, as many of her earliest songs were poems that she had written and then set to music. The songs became instant hits with her family, and also attracted the attention of animator and amateur recordist Gene Deitch. Beginning around 1954, Connie would make visits to Deitch’s home in Hastings-on-Hudson to record almost 40 songs.
At first listen, Connie’s music seems to keep close company with the female folk artists who were her contemporaries. The knack for plaintive storytelling shares much with Peggy Seeger and Susan Reed. Reed knew Connie’s music well, and performed a set of her songs in 1961 at the Kaufmann Concert Hall in New York. But Connie’s music stands out from that of the American folk revival of the 1950’s. Her fluid and disarmingly intelligent poetry reflects an urban perspective, that of a new New Yorker becoming disenchanted by the bucolic tropes of folk music. She is at once a maverick and a romantic, intellectual and spiritual, a staunch independent and a tender, pining lover.
Over the years Deitch, along with his colleague Bill Bernal, worked to promote Connie’s music, but despite their efforts, the songs remained unheard to all but a few dozen of Connie’s acquaintances. In 1961 Connie tired of New York and left for Ann Arbor, where her brother was a professor at the University of Michigan.
Having dropped out of college seventeen years prior, it came as something of a surprise that, within months of her arrival in Ann Arbor, Connie had implanted herself firmly in the academic community of U-Mich. She began as a secretary at the Center for Research on Conflict Resolution, eventually working her way to Managing Editor and Co-Editor of CRCR’s Journal of Conflict Resolution.
Connie’s work in Ann Arbor left little time for music and, while she still happily played at family gatherings, there is little evidence that she wrote new material. She did, however, continue her attempts to promote her music already extant. Susan Reed, the folk harpist, took an interest in Connie’s work and performed a set of her songs in New York. There were a handful of scores for commercials and some work on a short film. But never the kind of widespread success she had hoped for her music.
Connie became increasingly despondent in the 1970’s, a period she described as her Blue Funk, although her family and friends say they could not detect any outward change in her character. In 1971, she requested an extended leave of absence from CRCR, citing what she saw as her poor performance at work and unspecified medical problems. Her employer responded by organizing a group of Connie’s friends and colleagues to contribute to a pool of money that would allow her to take a six-month sabbatical in England, which she would later describe as one of the only times in her life that she allowed herself to enjoy “unproductive fun.”
In August of 1974, after waiting for the resignation of Richard Nixon, Connie wrote a series of farewell letters to friends and family. She packed up her Volkswagen and disappeared, her whereabouts unknown to this day.
Film maker Andrea Kannes is currently working on a documentary about Connie. More info here: http://connieconversedoc.com/
Down This Road
Connie Converse Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
came a-riding three strangers.
Down this road on a Monday morning
came a-riding three strangers.
There was one wearing green,
and one a peacock feather,
and one wearing overshoes
And they gave me six white horses
for to carry my load,
and they beckoned me to follow
and they took me -
Down this road on a Monday morning
came a-riding three strangers.
Down this road on a Monday morning
came a-riding three strangers.
The lyrics to Connie Converse's song Down This Road evoke a sense of mystery and wonder. The singer tells the story of encountering three strangers on a cold Monday morning, each dressed uniquely in green, peacock feathers, and overshoes. The strangers lend the singer six white horses to carry their load and beckon them to follow. The singer then travels down the road with the strangers, leaving the listener to ponder their destination and purpose.
The song's lyrics are open to interpretation, but one possible interpretation is that the strangers represent a journey or path that the singer must embark on. The white horses they lend could symbolize a means of carrying emotional baggage or burdens. The winter weather could represent a time of struggle or hardship, but the offer of the white horses and the beckoning to follow suggest that there is hope or a way forward.
Overall, Down This Road is a beautiful and haunting song that captures the imagination and leaves the listener with questions and a sense of longing.
Line by Line Meaning
Down this road on a Monday morning
On a Monday morning, I found myself on this particular road.
came a-riding three strangers.
Three unknown people arrived on the scene on horseback.
There was one wearing green,
One person had dressed themselves in a green outfit.
and one a peacock feather,
Another person had a peacock feather on their person.
and one wearing overshoes
One person wore overshoes, likely to protect their feet from the harsh winter weather.
against the wintry weather.
It was very clearly winter time and bitterly cold outside.
And they gave me six white horses
These three strangers gave me six trusty steeds to help carry my belongings.
for to carry my load,
The reason for the gift of these six horses was to assist in carrying my things.
and they beckoned me to follow
They gestured to me, asking me to follow them.
and they took me -
I followed them without hesitation, wherever they might lead me.
Down this road on a Monday morning
We continued down this road on that chilly Monday morning.
came a-riding three strangers.
I was joined on this journey by the three unknown riders.
Contributed by Xavier I. Suggest a correction in the comments below.