Yoho!

Some upcoming dates:

March 3: Songwriter of the Year Concert - PEI - Tickets Here

March 4: Music PEI Mill River Shuffle - PEI - Tickets Here

March 6-9: Winter Folk Camp - Haliburton ON

March 12: Red Bird Live - Ottawa - Tickets Here

March 13: Chippewa Secondary School - North Bay Ontario - Tickets Here

March 21: Shane Pendergast Trio at The PEI Winter Bluegrass Festival Tickets Here

March 24: The Jack Pine Folk Club - Trailside Music Hall - PEI - Tickets Here

April 15-19: Alberta - TBA, keep an eye on my website https://www.shanependergast.com/

April 24: Shane Pendergast & Cara Luft - Decoste Centre - Pictou, NS - Tickets Here

When my great-uncle Tom McSwiggan expressed his satisfaction, he often let out a bellowing “Yoho!” It was a burst of pure joy stemming from the soul of the Irishman, born in County Tyrone in 1935.

As my Dad often said, Tom was “tough as whalebone.” He moved to Canada in 1957 with no money, and built a legendary life as a family man, hard worker, and a proficient musician and storyteller.

Tom married into the Pendergast family, and started a ceilidh at the Malpeque Hall in 1996, celebrating music, stories, and dance. I had the privilege of sharing the stage at ceilidhs with him for 11 years. Without him, I would not be the musician and performer I am today. He was feisty, quick-witted, stubborn, brilliant, and spirited. I remember walking to the beach many times as a kid and passing his summer cottage on my journey. Often he would be sitting out on the porch, playing tunes on a tin whistle in the pleasant sun.

He was passionate about Irish music and creating community. The tunes he played on his accordion will forever ring in my ears. His deep, rich voice sang beautiful Irish melodies. Eventually, 90 years of experience gnarled itself into the texture of his vocals. His delivery of an Irish ballad frequently gave me the chills.

I remember driving to the ceilidh halls with Tom many times. On one particular occasion, as we pulled into the parking lot to get ready for our show, Tom stopped beside the gathering crowd, rolled down his window, and said “Is there something going on here tonight?”

“There’s a ceilidh at 7:30,” a woman responded.
“Are the entertainers any good?” barked Tom.
“Not sure, we haven’t heard them before.”

Ceilidhs are all about poking fun. I’ll miss the banter between Tom and my father. They were constantly one-upping each other. For many years, a popular target of their jokes was the old bathroom in one of the halls we played at (it was laughably minuscule). One time on stage, my father explained that there was a big brand new bathroom at the other side of the hall.

“The small bathroom is still here,” said Tom, “you just have to back in and drive out.”

I will miss sharing the stage with him, hearing his jokes for the 100th time (always with a slightly different delivery to keep you on your toes), and having some “Irish mist” at his cottage after a show. He was a character, a maverick. We don’t get these legends back. Although he cannot be replaced, his spirit lives on in his family.

Tom, to you I say yoho! Thanks for the good times. You lived with passion, and brought joy to so many people. You lived life to the final sip from the jar.