TERRY MOSHER
TOP OF THE TOWN – I turned on American Routes, as I usually do when I write, and went to its archives until I found October, 2010 and Hank Williams. American Routes is a weekly two-hour radio show from, New Orleans tracing the roots of American Music and hosted by Nick Spitzer, a folklorist and professor of anthropology and American Studies at Tulane University. Spitzer has a PhD in Anthropology from the University of Texas. I grew up with Hank Williams music as I battled through my dark years after losing my mother the same year we lost Williams, still considered the best country songwriter and singer even though his career was brief. Williams died Jan. 1, 1953 while en route to Canton, Ohio for a gig. It was a bad year for me as my mother –Jesse Elaine Vandyke Mosher – died May 21 of the same year. She was just 48. Hank was only 29. A year after my mother died, I was forced by my dad to go with him and his new bride to Ferndale, WA where Mobil Oil opened a new refinery on Cherry Pt. I say “force” because I fought like the devil to stay in my hometown of Portville, NY and live with my married sister. I almost pulled it off, but my dad got with the older brother next to me and hatched a plan where my brother would go to Ferndale with the promise from my dad if he didn’t like it he could go back and live with our sister. I didn’t figure out this trickery until years later. My brother stayed in Ferndale about three weeks and then went back to Portville where he starred in four sports. I was all setup to star in three sports there (my two other brothers starred in sports at the local high school). The expectation by them was I would be better than they were. I agree. But it never happened. I went into a mental and emotional funk and never participated in any sports at Ferndale,basically raised myself, and did a poor job of it. I somehow survived, although there were times I did things that could have cost me my life. I had the sense to back off at the last moment on most of them, although driving my dad’s car 140 miles an hour on back county roads was more Evel Knievel then was necessary. Trying to swim the raging Nooksack River or thinking about jumping off a cliff into Puget Sound were stunts close to suicide. Amid all this darkness, I clung to the songs of Williams, whose own heartbreak was recorded in most of his songs.
I’m so lonesome I could cry was a song he penned in response to troubles with his first wife, Audrey.
Hear that lonesome whippoorwill
He sounds too blue to fly
The midnight train is whining low
I’m so lonesome I could cry
I’ve never seen a night so long
When time goes crawling by
The moon just went behind the clouds
To hide its face and cry
Did you ever see a robin weep
When leaves begin to die?
Like me, he’s lost the will to live
I’m so lonesome I could cry
The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
And as I wonder where you are
I’m so lonesome I could cry.
Then there is Cold, Cold Heart.
I tried so hard, my dear, to show that you’re my every dream
Yet you’re afraid each thing I do is just some evil scheme
A memory from your lonesome past keeps us so far apart
Why can’t I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart?
Another love before my time made your heart sad and blue
And so my heart is paying now for things I didn’t do
In anger, unkind words are said that make the teardrops start
Why can’t I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart?
You’ll never know how much it hurts to see you sit and cry
You know you need and want my love, yet you’re afraid to try
Why do you run and hide from life, to try it just ain’t smart
Why can’t I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart?
There was a time when I believed that you belonged to me
But now I know your heart is shackled to a memory
The more I learn to care for you, the more we drift apart
Why can’t I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart?
There is this one, I saw the Light, which he composed while sitting in a taxi with Minnie Pearl.
I wandered so aimless life filled with sin
I wouldn’t let my dear savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I saw the light I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
[Verse 2]
Just like a blind man I wandered along
Worries and fears I claimed for my own
Then like the blind man that God gave back his sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I saw the light I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I was a fool to wander and a-stray
Straight is the gate and narrow the way
Now I have traded the wrong for the right
Praise the Lord I saw the light
I saw the light I saw the light
No more darkness no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light
As Williams sang his new song in the backseat, he suddenly stopped, and said,” That’s the trouble, I can’t see the light.” His troubled life ended that day of Jan. 1 due to a combination of medicine and booze. His driver stopped the Cadillac he was driving when he realized Hank was not moving. The music world came to a screeching halt as one of the great ones was gone.
Williams’ music is still played 70 years after he died I don’t refer to it much anymore. I can see the light now. I’m at the end of the tunnel and as I get close to the end the light shines brighter.
The truth is, however, I probably would not have survived my dark years if not for Williams. His cry packed into his songs gave me a chance to unburden myself of my problems.
I have come a long way and while the early journey was rocky and often dark, I end the journey knowing I have recovered most of myself. I’m still not the young boy who lost his mother too soon, but I have gotten better.
Thanks to Hank.
That’s it for today. Stay safe.
Be well pal.
Be careful out there.
Have a great day.
You are loved.