The Atalanta Freedom Tour: On Lindy Travels and Swing Community
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Earth Day celebration in a St. Louis Mo. park
EDITOR’S NOTE: Amy Winn (“Atalanta” on Yehoodi) contributed this piece on how lindy hop and Yehoodi impacted her life. Over the years, Amy has been such a strong supporter and contributor to our community. Although you probably didn’t do quite as much lindy travel as Amy, I bet there’s a lot in here that you can relate to.
It might be slightly dramatic but it’s still entirely accurate to say that Yehoodi changed my life. Lindy hop was an activity, but Yehoodi was a community.
Yehoodi was part of my every day, for years. Yehoodi connected me to the national / international network of lindy hoppers, which I sincerely believe is unique in all the world, even now. My daily contributions to Yehoodi helped me find my more authentic, less academic, writing voice, so people who had never met me felt they already knew me — and they were not far wrong. Yehoodi conversations sparked rich friendships that have lasted decades, and enabled memorable romances that lasted one day. There were extremely dumb fights and very smart arguments, but it was never, ever dull. Yehoodi allowed me to study others’ wisdom, offer my own advice, co-create comedy, and become a heckuva better dancer than I ever could have been without it.
Yehoodi also enabled me to truly and deeply see America, in the most literal sense.
I was not the first to go on what was called a “Lindy sojourn,” but I think I was one of the few who made it a full-time lifestyle for a while. Frustrated by my job, feeling stymied in my career, and itching for a major change, I had a premature midlife crisis at the ripe age of 29. I knew I needed to leave my hometown of Atlanta, but where would I go?
I decided: Everywhere. I’d go everywhere. And Yehoodi made that possible.
Yehoodi introduced me to people in cities I had never previously been interested in visiting, and compelled me to go there. Yehoodi opened literal doors, to homes across the country, with hosts who were eager to meet me or who were willing to accept me based entirely on a character reference from a mutual-virtual friend.
In early 2003 — I cannot believe it’s been over 20 years!!!! — I mapped out a rough road trip itinerary that not only crossed the country, but encircled it. I shared the plan with Yehoodi and the enthusiastic invitations and introductions started rolling in immediately. The “Atalanta Freedom Tour” became a true community event, and I was (am!) astonished how many people wanted to be part of it.
By the time I left home in mid-February (first stop: LindyGras in New Orleans!), the plan was to drive from Atlanta across to San Diego, all the way up the West Coast to Vancouver, down and across Washington, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, up to Detroit, dipping back into Canada from Windsor to Toronto, across New York State and then back down the East Coast home to Atlanta. The first segment grew to include more than 40 stops and I was continuously on the road for over four months, from February to June 2003.
In all those weeks, I rented hotel rooms for only three nights — there were no lindy hoppers or friends-of-lindy hoppers in Fort Stockton, Texas; Coeur d’Alene, Idaho; or Wyoming. All the rest of that time was hosted, sometimes by my “non-dancer” friends, but mostly by lindy hoppers and Yehoodites.
I plotted my travel around local dances, events and exchanges, where possible. I followed the warming sun as winter turned to summer. Occasionally, I took on a passenger to hop from one town to the next, but mostly my driving time was spent alone, which made me eager to interact with everyone each time I turned up somewhere new.
I was invited to observe Passover in Portland, and join an Earth Day festival in St. Louis. I drove the entire length of the Pacific Coast Highway and heard ice thawing in Yellowstone National Park. I saw deserts and mountains and plains, and both sides of Niagara Falls. I got robbed twice. (...by strangers, not Yehoodites!) I listened to a couple dozen books-on-tape, visited tourist sights and local favorites, talked with friends and strangers, and danced as often as possible. I took a lot of photos — they were all pretty bad.
I logged every leg of my travels on Yehoodi, of course. The thread spanned hundreds posts with Yehoodites from all over chiming in and cheering me on.
After that big initial segment, I kept going on shorter road trips for the rest of the year as I ostensibly job-hunted, visiting dozens of newsrooms nationwide. I couch-surfed constantly, still thanks to the community. Every so often, a business traveler offered me their empty apartment (heaven!). To stanch the bleeding from my savings, I did odd jobs and freelance writing assignments — they call it being a “digital nomad” now, and it’s a lot easier these days with universal wifi and smartphones than it was then, counting out my monthly allotment of daytime cell phone minutes and going from one Kinko’s and college computer lab to the next, paying for email access by the minute. I went into credit card debt, obviously, but that wasn’t scary to me in those days … mostly, I just fucked around and felt as free as anyone ever has. It was all very glorious even if I knew it wasn’t forever.
After exploring everywhere, and making repeat visits to several regions, I recognized that New York City was exactly the right place for me. I accepted a job in the Mid-Hudson Valley (it was close enough) and moved permanently in April 2004. The New York Yehoodites welcomed me warmly, embraced me as if they had been awaiting my arrival, and made me feel truly at home — which is no small thing, as any new New Yorker will attest.
A year and a half spent mostly on the road, seeing most of North America, expanded my understanding of what I could achieve by myself, and what more was possible with the support of a true community. The journey transformed me, yet made me more myself than anything else ever has.
All those terrible photos were captured on film, of course, so I had them printed, with intentions to scrapbook the best shots “eventually.” I stuck them all in a box and eventually stopped fooling myself. This week, I pulled out the box and took a long stroll down Memory Lane. The attached photos are a tiny sampler of typical travel moments in Nashville, St. Louis, Vancouver, Portland, LA, and San Francisco. Not everyone pictured is a lindy hopper but you may recognize the ones who are. I am not still in touch with everyone, but every one of them contributed something meaningful to the experience and I’m so grateful.
For this reason but also so many others, and for so many people, Yehoodi was important. I will appreciate forever that it existed, vibrantly, for as long as it did.
Thank you to Yehoodistrators and all Yehoodites, for so many very good times, and for enriching my life beyond what I can ever fully describe.
— With much lindy love,
Atalanta (Amy Winn)
