A shaker preacher in the hills of RathoMill. Yes it was a windy day doing strange things to this man's apparel. It is almost religious that these pictures ended up as the 40th page.
In Rathomill there was a lady in our employ whom I knew attended some 'shaker' meetings. From those meetings I could hear the sounds of that drum rolling over the hill and it was surely infectious. One day and in her presence, I played one of Bach's fugues mimicing, to the best of my ability, the shaker beat. With a wide grin, the lady looked at me and warned me that if she "broke away" I would have to sprinkle water around her. I played on but I guess my "shaker beat' was not good enough to do the trick.
