The Story of Fairley Sparks and the origins of  the “Sit Down Guitar”

 Where does one begin when trying to convey the greatness of an individual of the stature of  Fairley Sparks to those whose ears have not yet been anointed by the hands of the man?  How could  those who have never witnessed a performance by this gifted musical man machine come to know the oneness, the totality, the wholarity that is my Pa, Fairley Sparks. (Well you could buy one of these CD’s…) 

Fairley Sparks is one of a kind. Some say they broke the mold when Fairley was born. Others say he was just moldy. He was born on Frailey  mountain near Almost, West Virginia, in a little log cabin on the hill on the sunny side of the mountain (right by where the rippling waters fall). His dad, my grandpa, Lida Sparks was a coal miner who married his mother, my grandmother, the lovely Hiawatha Pluggs in 1897. 

 Hiawatha Sparks-Pluggs bore many children with Lida, and Fairley grew up in his musical family with several multi-talented siblings. Fairley’s favorite was always his big brother, Nearly Sparks. Fairley, Nearly, and the twins Flint and Steel Sparks had a small touring act in the 50’s known as the “Sparklers”, but the lounge circuit did not accept their trademark interpretations of the songs of Red Sovine. Down on their luck, at one point the boys were stranded in Schenectady, New York, so poor that Fairley and Nearly fairly nearly had to resort to an organ grinding act in which the younger Fairley would dress up in a monkey suit to solicit tips while Flint and Steel played hot licks by the fire. 

Click HERE to see some rare footage of the Fairley in his Sunday Best Suit.

 Soon, Fairley grew too large for the monkey suit, and after contemplating the high cost of a gorilla suit, the duo hired a new monkey when they enlisted the services of their mother’s child from previous marriage, Otto Sparks-Pluggs. After fairly good success for a few months, Otto died tragically in a fireworks accident at  the age of 13.  

Crushed and heartbroken, and in the middle of the largest growth spurt (to date) in his young life, Fairley returned home to find his half wit brother, Airley writhing about on the floor with a strange looking musical instrument. Intrigued, he stepped inside and immediately cracked his head on the large beam that held up the ceiling of the family home. Racked with pain and collapsed to the floor, Fairley stood up again, and once again he cracked his head on the ceiling. Now dazed, confused, and probably delirious, Fairley snatched the strange guitar from Airley and began muttering “must sit down—must sit down” as he crab-walked to the couch.

 Soon, Fairley’s head stopped hurting, beautiful dobro music filled the house, and Airley stopped writhing. My Pa had grown so much that he was now too tall to stand up in the ramshackle cabin, and spent most of his time eating SPAM quesadilla’s and playing his now famous “Sit-Down Guitar” on his cracker box near the fire.