Columbus played a major role in the life of Phil Ochs, the folk singer who came to prominence during the 60s and 70s with his stirring anti-war ballads. Born in Texas, Ochs landed in Columbus in 1954, when he was 13 years old, where his father landed a job with a TB hospital.
In Michael Schumacher's interesting new biography, There But For Fortune: A Life of Phil Ochs (Hyperion, $24.95) the author writes that as an adult, "Ochs would retain fond memories of his time in Columbus. The city, fairly small in those days, was especially uninhabited on the outskirts of town, where the Ochs family lived, and life was an uncluttered slice from Rockwellian Americana."
The book describes Ochs as loving to take his bicycle on long rides down Alum Creek Drive. "Many of his classmates were country kids who didn't report to school until after the October harvest, and who left school for spring planting."
One of Ochs' best known songs was "I Ain't Marching Anymore," which was ironic since Ochs had enjoyed his stint at a military academy in Staunton, Virginia, leaving Columbus for the school in the autumn of 1956.
Later Ochs enrolled in Ohio State University, where he majored in journalism and was active as a writer for the school's laboratory newspaper, The Lantern. Schumacher notes, "In time, Phil became one of Ohio State's most prolific writers, but he was still dissatisfied. He had far too many ideas for the available creative outlets."
Ochs' writings were considered too radical by Lantern editors. "In frustration, he started his own newspaper, The Word, a sporadically released publication designed to print material deemed too controversial for The Lantern."
Ochs learned to play the guitar, though he never became an accomplished player.However, it soon became apparent that he could voice his opinions through music.
When he was the obvious candidate to become Lantern editor-in-chief in his senior year, he was rejected because of his views. Ochs saw that as a reason to head for New York to pursue his new dream of becoming a force in show business.
The road to success was marred with numerous potholes, as Ochs slowly developed his talents. Never possessing a strong voice and with limited talents on the guitar, his strong suit was, of course, his lyrics. And his development there was slow and spotty.
Eventually though, Ochs reached a modicum of success, though never approaching the heights reached by his good friend Bob Dylan. Ochs' time in the spotlight was relatively brief, although he composed several songs that became the anthems of the anti-Vietnam War movement.
Personal problems involving drugs and an encroaching manic depression that caused crippling mood swings eventually capsized his career. Encountering increasing bouts of black moods that made him nearly incapable of performing, along with periods of mania that dismayed his friends and his fans (at one point in 1975, he adopted a new personality, John Train, whose antics led him to the point of self-destruction). Finally, the black depression moved in and wouldn't leave. In April 1976, he hanged himself at his sister's home in upstate New York.
Phil Ochs was 35.
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