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Titre :The death of Floyd Collins
Compositeur(s) et-ou auteur(s) :Spain, Irene ; Jenkins, rev. Andrew
Interprète(s) :Dalhart, Vernon
Fichier audio :Cliquez pour écouter
Photo(s) :
PhotoPhoto
Photo
Support d'enregistrement :Cylindre
Format :Blue Amberol (enregistrement acoustique)
Lieu d'enregistrement :Paris, France
Marque de fabrique, label :Edison
Numéro de catalogue :5049
Date de l'enregistrement :1925
Instruments :Singing, violin and guitar
État :Exc++
Vitesse (tours/minute) :160
Matériel employé au transfert :Archéophone, pointe 78t sur Ortofon, Elberg MD12 : courbe flat, passe-bas 6kHz, Cedar X declick, decrackle, dehiss
Date du transfert :13-12-2013
Commentaires :William Floyd Collins, spéléologue, trouva la mort le 30 janvier 1925 sur le site de Cave City (Central Kentuky).
Texte du contenu :William Floyd Collins (1887–1925) était un spéléologue du Central Kentucky, une zone qui compte des centaines de kilomètres de grottes qui communiquent entre elles, et notamment le fameux Mammoth Cave National Park. Le 30 janvier 1925, essayant de mettre à jour une nouvelle entrée à ce système de grottes qui étaient l'objet d'une importante attraction touristique - Cave City - Collins s'est retrouvé coincé dans un boyau étroit à 17 m sous la surface. Le suivi des efforts pour le sauver firent l'objet d'une campagne de presse à l'échelle nationale, et figure parmi les premiers événements notablements couverts par la radio alors naissante. Après quatre jours durant lesquels on put lui porter de la nourriture, un effondrement dans la grotte empêcha tout contact autre que vocal, avec Collins. Il mourut de faim, de soif et de froid après 14 jours passés sous terre.

The Death Of Floyd Collins

Oh, come all you the people and listen while I tell
The fate of Floyd Collins, a lad we all knew well
His face was fair and handsome, his heart was true and brave
His body now lies sleeping in a lonely sandstone cave.

How sad, how sad the story, it fills our eyes with tears
The memory too, will linger for many, many years
A brokenhearted father, who tried his boy to save
Will now weep tears of sorrow at the door of Floyd's cave.

Oh, mother, don't you worry; dear father, don't be sad
I'll tell you all my troubles in an awful dream I had
I dreamed that I was a prisoner, my life I could not save
I cried, "Oh, must I perish within this silent cave?"

"Oh, Floyd," cried his mother, "Don't go, my son, don't go
'Twould leave us brokenhearted if this should happen so"
Though Floyd did not listen, advice his mother gave
So his body now lies sleeping in a lonely sandstone cave.

His father often warned him from follies to desist
He told him of the danger and the awful risk
But Floyd would not listen to the oft advice he gave
So his body now lies sleeping in a lonely sandstone cave.

Oh, how the news did travel! Oh, how the news did go
It traveled through the papers and over the radio
A rescue party gathered, his life they tried to save
But his body now lies sleeping in a lonely sandstone cave.

The rescue party labored, they worked both night and day
To move the mighty barrier that stood within the way
To rescue Floyd Collins, this was their battle cry
"We'll never, no, we'll never let Floyd Collins die."

But on that faithful morning, the sun rose in the sky
The workers were still busy, we'll save him by and by
But, oh, how sad the ending, his life could not be saved
His body then was sleeping in a lonely sandstone cave.

Young people, oh, take warning from Floyd Collins' fate
And get right with your Maker before it us too late
It may not be a sand cave in which we find our tomb
But at the bar of judgement, we, too, must meet our doom.

The mining experts gathered, they sought to find a plan
To lift poor Floyd's body from far beneath the sand
And oh, how they did struggle with hearts brave and stout
But the cave that swallowed Collins would never leave him out.


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