Riding his Harley-Davidson through the streets of Macon, Georgia, in late October of 1971, Duane Allman had a lot of things to feel good about.
His band was finally breaking through. Known for their high-energy live performances, The Allman Brothers Band hadn’t been able to parlay that into commercial success for their studio records. But their live album, At Filmore East, had just been certified gold by the RIAA, after only six months of sales.
Building off that momentum, a follow-up record was in the works. The band had been in the studio for months, and just a week or two earlier Duane had recorded a song for the new record called “Little Martha” – the first Allman Brothers song written solely by him.
The track was named for Martha Ellis, a 12-year-old girl buried in Macon’s Rose Hill Cemetery. She had died in 1893, and wasn’t particularly important to Duane or his brother Gregg, but her gravestone was striking: a statue, simple but life-sized, looking contemplatively off into the distance.
Duane and Gregg Allman grew up in Macon, and spent a lot of time hanging out in the cemetery, because…well, what else does a young person do in Macon in the 60s? The brothers had probably sat near her gravestone, chatting about the things teenaged brothers chat about, and wondering what tragedy could have cut little Martha’s life so tragically short.
Perhaps the song, or Martha herself, was on Duane’s mind as he rode his motorcycle down Hillcrest Avenue in Macon in late October of 1971.
Sadly, that motorcycle ride would be his last; he collided with a truck that had stopped unexpectedly at an intersection. He died in hospital, just weeks shy of his twenty-fifth birthday.
The Allman Brothers Band released their LP Eat A Peach in early 1972, and it was a huge success; certified platinum, number four on Billboard. “Little Martha” was the shortest track on the record, and became a fan favourite.
Duane Allman now rests in Rose Hill Cemetery in Macon, a stone’s throw from Martha Ellis. And if there is any magic left in the world, I sincerely hope that young kids with nothing else to do hang out there at night, playing acoustic guitars and wondering who Duane Allman was.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. It begins with a ten-second vamp before hitting its true tempo, like a motorcycle pulling out of a parking space.
2. The melody apparently came to Duane Allman in a dream, in which Jimi Hendrix (who died just a year before the song was recorded) showed him how to play it.
3. It’s a duet, but the two guitars keep in perfect rhythm, so it’s almost like the sounds of the two instruments are stacked perfectly one on top of the other.
Recommended listening activity:
Thinking about all the people who have sat where you’re currently sitting.