I learned a lot about writing from Tom T.
Aug. 26—I'm not sure you can teach writing.
But I know you can learn if you want to.
The men who taught me the most about stringing words together are gone now.
Louis L'Amour left us in 1988.
But his Western novels were eloquently written, with words as sparse as water holes in the desert.
And just as satisfying.
Lewis Grizzard Jr. was just five months older than me, but his writing was light years ahead.
We lost him in 1994, much too early.
But collections of his columns in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution are still with us in book form.
And they still take us on journeys through his life and the life of Atlanta.
We lost Tom T. Hall last week, but he left a library of songs that are filled with some of the best writing of the 20th century.
Someone once called him the "Hemingway of Country Music."
But I think he was better than Hemingway.
On Dec. 31, 1970, a mine disaster in Hyden took the lives of 39 men.
And Hall went there in search of a song.
"Past the hound dogs and some domineckered chickens/Temporary-lookin' houses with their lean and bashful kids/Every hundred yards a sign proclaimed that Christ was coming soon/And I thought, 'Well, man, he'd sure be disappointed if he did,' " he wrote.
"On the way we talked about the 40 miners/Of the 39 who died and one who lived to tell the tale/We stopped for beans and cornbread at the Ed & Lois Cafe/Then went to see the sheriff at the Leslie County Jail/They took us to the scene of that disaster/I was so surprised to not find any sign of death at all," Hall continued.
"Trip To Hyden" is some of the finest journalism I've ever seen.
Then, there was the "Little Lady Preacher" who was "down on booze and cigarettes and high on days to come/And she'd punctuate the prophecy with movements of her hips."
The guy in the song was 19, playing bass for her with a heavy crush.
Then, one day she ran off with Luther, a hairy-legged old boy who was known to enjoy both booze and cigarettes.
"I don't know where they are 'cause I ain't seen them people since/Lord if I judge 'em let me give 'em lots o' room," Hall wrote.
I love that line.
And I try to live by it.
In "America The Ugly," Hall editorialized, "The enemy knows when a heart gets hard the country is bound to fall/If we get heads and hearts together we won't have to hear them say, 'America the ugly today."
There was "Who's Gonna Feed Them Hogs?" about a farmer in the hospital worried about his hogs.
And "The Ballad of Forty Dollars" about a man digging the grave for a man who died owing him $40.
I interviewed him a few times through the years.
But I never told him how much his writing meant to me.
I wish I had.
Keith Lawrence, 270-691-7301 klawrence@messenger-inquirer.com.
270-691-7301
