It was a hot summer night in mid-August 1922 when a crowd of about 200 couples gathered at Shepard’s Barn in Norway.

The occasion was “a real old-fashioned” barn dance, and at the center of it all was Mellie Dunham, who would achieve national fiddling fame a few years later on the vaudeville circuit. He and family members played for the event.

The barn was 80 feet long, and in those days, the success was measured in the length of the line of couples stepping to the “Boston Fancy.” It was said that one line went the whole length of the barn, and a second was half as long.

The newspaper description said, “The floor is in excellent shape and all enjoy the barn dances twice a week and occasionally an extra.”

By that time, barn dances had become a major part of Maine community life.

But, as folk singer Bob Dylan was to say in his music 50 years later, “The times, they are a-changin’.”

The weekly dances, still called barn dances, were being held more often in Grange halls.

A well-known local fiddler, E.A. Drinkwater, talked to a Lewiston Journal reporter in 1926. He voiced concern about changes in society that he had seen in nearly 50 years of barn-dance fiddling, and he bemoaned an inaccurate perception of Mainers that Dunham’s show-biz success was generating.

Speaking of Dunham’s brief but brilliant stint in theaters, Drinkwater worried about the “barn-dance act” Dunham performed on the Keith Circuit.

“Now, what bothers me a little,” he said, “is whether those New York and other city folk are going to think we are a bunch of rubes up here in Maine. It would put the old Pine Tree State in a false light, if they got to thinking that everybody danced in barns, wouldn’t it? Why, it wouldn’t be strange, after they’d been to Mellie’s show, if they thought Maine towns had a barn dance every Saturday night.”

Drinkwater recalled his long musical career of barn dances and local dance-hall gatherings.

“Probably my longest record in any one hall is that at Litchfield Corner. The hall there was dedicated just 49 years ago (1877) last Christmas Eve. I have played there every Saturday night, summer and winter, year after year. It was one of the first in this region to have orchestras for dances. It was built by the late Sylvester Stewart and is now owned by George Ricker.”

The veteran fiddler said barn dances were historic and picturesque, “but they don’t occur very often in these days.”

They were often held when a new barn was constructed, “and that doesn’t happen as much now,“ he said.

“I don’t believe I have played at a barn dance for seven or eight years. The last barn dance I recall was at Clarence Davis’s place in Wales, where they had just finished a new barn.”

Drinkwater expressed an interesting view about the social value of barn dances.
“They promote sociability among the dancers, and tend to aid in maintaining order. The older folks, who dance only squares, are a fine regulator,” he said.

“In my opinion, there have been two mistakes made in running modern dances,” Drinkwater said. “One is the omission of the grand march and circle. The other is the omission of dance orders. Along with the dance orders went the floor manager and aides.”

“The result? The crowd runs the modern dance!”

Drinkwater concluded by saying, “I don’t want to go down as wishing to kill the modern dances, not even to the Charleston. If they want it, let them have it. But I don’t like too much of the same thing, either old or new, and hence I stand for a safe and sane well-balanced dance program.”

A look at newspaper ads for the next 50 years shows that barn dances never fell out of favor. Ten years later, in 1937, an advertisement for the Tory Hill Barn Dance in North Turner said, “If you’re looking for a good time, come to the oldest barn in Maine where everybody is happy. Music by the Parisians, admission 25 cents.”

And look around today. Old-fashioned dances and music are very popular. There’s plenty of fiddle music at regular festivals, and there are contradances and lessons to be found year-round.

Bob Dylan may have foreseen the times “a-changin’,” but in Maine and around the country, there’s something universal about people meeting to do the old-fashioned dances.

Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and a native of Auburn. He can be reached by sending email to [email protected].