“In plain terms, Johnny was and is the North Star; you could guide your ship by him — the greatest of the greats then and now. Truly he is what the land and country is all about, the heart and soul of it personified and what it means to be here; and he said it all in plain English. I think we can have recollections of him, but we can’t define him any more than we can define a fountain of truth, light and beauty. If we want to know what it means to be mortal, we need look no further than the Man in Black. Blessed with a profound imagination, he used the gift to express all the various lost causes of the human soul. This is a miraculous and humbling thing. Listen to him, and he always brings you to your senses. He rises high above all, and he’ll never die or be forgotten, even by persons not born yet — especially those persons — and that is forever.
Bob Dylan
In the latter half of the 1980’s, throughout the decade of the 1990’s and well into the 2000’s I guided my ship by that North Star. Johnny Cash, the music and the man steered me safely through my twenties and thirties serving as a conduit of insight; into the heart and soul of American Music, the nature of man both good and evil and spiritual reconciliation. It is with an unfairly broad brush that I paint the 1990’s as my least favorite decade, musically, artistically and generally but that’s how I recall it. I didn’t require the constant sneering and bellyaching of Kurt Cobain and company to tell me that everything sucks. That was a fairly simple conclusion that I might draw on my own, sans the ironic thrift store cardigans. Much of the music I was hearing then and the people performing it came across as pretentious posers protesting pretense or pretense squared. In the music of Johnny Cash I found simple truths sowed, cultivated, uprooted and plated; seasoned with complex ambiguity. Farm to table, nourishing veracity, devoid of unhealthy additives other than maybe the occasional residue of winking organic bullshit. I loved most everything about the man, the music and the distinct humanity represented therein. We didn’t share many of the same demons but the struggle is universal. I find solace in the timbre of his voice and I still turn to Johnny as a beacon in the darkness when I find myself too far off course.
The following is taken from a book of notes and photographs I compiled beginning on the day Johnny Cash died and documenting my subsequent pilgrimage to Hendersonville Tennessee via Dyess Arkansas.
I plan to crawl outside these walls
Close my eyes and see
Fall into the hearts and arms
Of those who wait for me
I cannot move a mountain now
I can no longer run
I cannot be who I was then
In a way, I never was
I watch the clouds go sailing
I watch the clock and sun
Oh, I watch myself depending on
September when it comes
When the shadows lengthen
And burn away the past
They will fly me like an angel to
A place where I can rest
When this begins I’ll let you in
September when it comes
SEPTEMBER WHEN IT COMES
WRITTEN BY ROSEANNE CASH AND JOHN LEVENTHAL
September 12, 2003
I listen to Johnny Cash sing about God and pain and hurt and redemption and it is all beautiful.
Loneliness, death, murder and abandonment. Joy, love rapture and redemption.
Redemption, redemption, redemption.
All beautiful.
I thought I found the voice of God but it was only a man and what could be more appropriate? What could be more honest and true? And what is more beautiful than truth?
My heart is broken because the embodiment of truth, for me has died today. I cry when I hear his voice. I cry when he sings about trains and rivers and God.
Honesty, honesty, honesty.
There goes honesty.
Go to Heaven Johnny Cash and be with Jesus Christ, whom you taught me to love again and be with June and your brother Jack. Be with all those you know and love.
Thank you for all the beautiful, honest music that will help me get through it.
And thank you for the dignity you brought.
THE GLORIOUS ASCENSION OF JOHNNY CASH
On the afternoon of September 13th, I started down Interstate 55 on my way towards Dyess, Arkansas. At 12:52 I passed the Arnold, Missouri water tower. I passed the auditorium at Fox High School where I saw my one and only Johnny Cash performance some 14 years earlier. I can still picture him singing Orange Blossom Special and playing the two harmonicas. I can see June kicking her shoes across the stage before she danced.
I continued down the highway, often driving through heavy rain. I though of that other show that we never saw. The one scheduled for the Fox Theatre that was cancelled when he first became ill. I still regret redeeming the tickets we had already purchased. I would like to have them now. I finally arrived in Dyess around 4:30 and the skies began to clear.
I drove first to the center of town where I parked next to the small City Hall and walked about taking photographs. There was little activity. I saw some guy sitting in the bed of his pick-up truck talking on a cell phone. He barely glanced at me but I felt that he looked at me as If I had just landed from another planet.
The road into Dyess
Dyess City Hall, The flag was at half-staff, whether for Johnny Cash or 9/11 I couldn’t say
Three buildings in the town circle (half circle actually)
Dyess is a very rural, very poor town. It appears that the only new building in town in the last 60 years is the Post Office which was under construction during my first visit to Dyess a couple of years ago. As I drove through town there were large puddles everywhere and what appeared to be a large dead dog lying in the road. Only when I got very near did this sick looking dog pull himself up off the road. He acted as if he wasn’t accustomed to having to move. There is no indication anywhere in town that Johnny Cash ever lived there. No marker, no sign. It is a depression era town that hasn’t changed since the depression, other than to deteriorate. As I travelled through town I received a lot of curious stares along with several friendly waves.
Old Pepsi signs on what must have been a small grocery or confectionary
Dyess High School
W924 Dyess
The sun came out
I left the town center and turned off 279 onto W924, the rural road that the Cash house sits on. The landscape reminded me of a Van Gogh painting. Wide open beautiful fields with few trees and the occasional wild bush. The big puddles repeated alongside the road here and there. I parked across the road and up a little from the Cash house. I walked up to the door and knocked but there was no answer. I had wanted to ask permission before I took any photographs. I went back to the road and took some photographs from there.
Johnny Cash Boyhood Home, 4791 W924 Dyess Ark. PO 72330
At the Cash Home
I drove a little further along where I wouldn’t be seen, got out and collected some of the rocks off the road. I’m not sure why, maybe the same reason that the astronauts took moon rocks. I had come a long way to a special place and wanted to take some part of it home with me. I need to learn to leave special things as they are but I doubt anyone in Dyess will miss the rocks.
Johnny Cash Boyhood Home, Dyess Arkansas September 13, 2003
I left one of my prayer cards on the side of the road as an exercise in found art. I started calling the little copies of my painting “prayer cards” which was not my original intention but the more I think about it, that is really what they are.
Lying in the road nearby was a dead blackbird. In spite of the glaring symbolism, I snapped a photograph. It reminded me of the transient nature of things, and people.
This tree reminded me of his song REDEMPTION and I sat in the car and listened,
From the hands it came down, from the side it came down
From the feet it came down and ran to the ground
Between Heaven and Hell, a teardrop fell
In the deep crimson dew, the tree of life grew
And the blood gave life to the branches of the tree
And the blood was the price that set the captives free
And the numbers that came, through the fire and the flood
Clung to the tree and were redeemed by the blood
WRITTEN BY JOHN R. CASH
I cling to the tree and am redeemed by the blood
As I stood there in the road taking more photographs, a pick-up truck came towards me slowly. As he passed, I gave the driver a wave and he waved back. He pulled into the driveway of the Cash home; his home now, got out and started into the house. He knew why I was there of course, standing in the middle of the road in front of his house with a camera in my hand. I called out to him and said I hoped he didn’t mind my being there. He said it was okay. I introduced myself and thanked him for understanding why I had come. He gave me his name, Willie Stegall and we ended up talking in the front yard for about and hour or so. He was very gracious and accommodating.
Willie Stegall
We talked about Johnny Cash and plows and about some of the other people who have come by the house over the years like I had, just to see it. He said sometimes he’ll wake up on a Sunday morning and step out on his front porch and people will scatter. He has met folks from as far away as Japan and told me of a couple of sharply dressed fellas from London who had visited. There were two hippies from way up north, Canada somewhere, who left a teacup and a saucer as a memorial. He told me about one woman who came to the house and after wandering about for a while, asked him if she could pull up a couple of cotton plants from the field to take as a souvenir. He was in the middle of some chore and busily told her she could. Later on, after she had gone, he realized that there was no cotton planted in the field and what she actually took was soybeans!
Willie told me he had met just about everybody in the Cash family, who had come by at one time or another. He said he had met June and spoke highly of her. He never met Johnny Cash but said that he had come by at some point when Willie wasn’t home and left him a scarf. Willie kept the scarf on display in the house but said it had disappeared some years ago. Stolen, he thought.
Willie told me that people from the Conway Twitty Museum wanted to buy the house and take it to Twitty City. He said they were going to cut it in half and take it by helicopter. That’s what he told me. He said someone else had approached him and asked him to tear out the paneling. Apparently Johnny Cash had carved his name in a board somewhere in the house. According to Willie, this had been some associate of Johnny’s who had heard the story and was going to present this board to Mr. Cash. Willie said he wasn’t tearing up his home to find any board.
The house itself is in quit a state of disrepair. Willie told me he had lost some shingles the night before in the heavy wind and rain. He had been meaning to put some steps up to the front door but hadn’t got around to it yet. Some of the local news stations had already been out to the house since the news of Johnny’s passing. He said a lady reporter had some trouble in her high heels while trying to negotiate her way into the house. He felt bad about the steps, or more specifically, the lack of steps. He said he had painted the outside a few years back but the paint didn’t take. I thought the place looked fine as it is. It looked like it had stood there a while.
Willie said Johnny Cash’s father had dug up six cottonwood trees down by the Mississippi River and transplanted them at the house. Of the six, only two remained, the wind had taken the others. I laid my hand on the big tree to the right of the house as we walked around the side. He told me the land was 40 acres and that Johnny’s father had cleared that land to make it right for growing cotton, with nothing more than a center cut saw and the hard work of his boys. This was during The Great Depression. It was getting to be late afternoon. Willie had to get a trailer ready for deer hunting and I had many miles ahead of me so we said goodbye. I shook his hand and thanked him for his time. From there I was off to Bassett, near Wilson to visit the grave of Jack Cash, Johnny’s big brother.
I made my way out to Highway 14 and drove the dozen or so miles from Dyess to Bassett. I visited the grave of Jack Cash that we had found earlier this year on a trip to New Orleans. Due to my inattention to the math and the similarity of the two names Ray (Johnny’s father) and Roy (Johnny’s brother), I was under the impression that Johnny’s parents were buried next to Jack, when in actuality it is his oldest brother Roy and his wife. I have since learned that his parents are buried in Hendersonville memorial Gardens.
There were no other visitors and with the sun setting, the entire scene was very tranquil.
On my first visit to this cemetery I had left a photograph of the Cash family home near the grave of Jack Cash. I weighed it down with a rock from the road where the home sits, back in Dyess. The rock was still at the grave but the photograph was gone. I used the same rock to weigh down one of my prayer cards and left it by the grave of brother Roy. While still in Bassett I realized that I should have left one of the prayer cards with Mr. Stegall, also I wanted to get the address of the Cash House. With the sun sinking fast, I left the cemetery and headed back to Dyess. As I drove those rural highways I noticed the beauty of the sky over the wide-open fields. Dramatic skies full of clouds and color, as if Johnny Cash’s presence in the Heavens were impacting the sky itself.
Cotton fields in the Mississippi River bottoms at Bassett and Wilson Arkansas
Wilson Arkansas
Back to Dyess
Sunset, Dyess Arkansas with as sky full of Johnny Cash
I arrived back in Dyess and turned down W924 just as the sun was setting. The sky was glorious and I wanted to linger. When I say the sky was glorious, I truly mean it. Webster’s defines glorious as full of glory; illustrious or receiving glory or very delightful, enjoyable. It is not a word I often use but I’m telling you, this was a sky that was receiving glory. Receiving the glory of a man who loved God and wasn’t afraid to profess that love time and again. That is not always an easy thing to do. Very often I am far away from God but I can declare with confidence, I have known the security that comes from standing on a humble country road, looking up to the Heavens and knowing that God is there to welcome those who love him and to receive those who have faith. I hope I never forget this.
Prayer card #16 left in the mailbox of Willie Stegall.
I left Dyess in darkness at around 8:00 pm and drove roughly three hours until I was about 40 miles outside of Nashville in Dickson Tennessee and checked in at the Hampton Inn at 11:00 pm. I went to my room but was restless and hungry and jacked up on caffeine, so I immediately went back out again with the intention of finding food. I ended up at a gas station across the street where I bought a candy bar and some newspapers. All along the journey I kept buying newspapers. I wanted to read all the various tributes and celebrations of the man. Most of the newspaper vending machines had special placards commemorating Johnny Cash and I had a strong compulsion to steal them out of the machines and keep them for myself but I resisted. I went back to my room but was just not ready to sleep, though I was physically exhausted. I watched Training Day on television and I think all that violence finally wore me out. I turned the light out and fell asleep.
I woke up Sunday morning September 14th, ate breakfast in my room, showered and checked out. I bought more newspapers before getting back on the music highway, interstate 40, heading toward Nashville. I pulled into Hendersonville, north of Nashville, at around 10:00 am and drove down the Johnny Cash Parkway. My first stop was at the Publix grocery store where I bought more newspapers and a can of boiled peanuts. I’m sure I don’t like boiled peanuts but you can’t find them in St. Louis so you better get them where you can. I also purchased a bunch of white carnations.
Skirting Nashville
As I left the grocery store I saw this tribute at Shoney’s. I had read in the newspaper that he frequented this restaurant and the waitresses mentioned that he had always treated them fine. I remembered the interview with Larry King where Johnny told him how he liked to go shopping at the local Wal-Mart. It seems nice that he should be able to go about town without being hassled too much. I headed next to the House Of Cash to see if there were any memorials being left. The flag was at half-staff and there were only a few flowers left on the ground by the front door.
I put down one of the prayer cards along with a couple carnations. As I stood in the circle drive in front of the former museum a few cars pulled up. Two older men came by in a pick-up truck, stepped out briefly to pay their respects and then left.
A young couple parked and approached me. They asked me if this had been Johnny Cash’s home. I told them that it had once housed a museum and gift shop and that it had been his business office. Leastwise, that was my understanding. Their names were Moe and Lisa and they lived in Ontario Canada but were honeymooning in the Smoky Mountains when they heard the news that Johnny Cash had died. They were compelled to come to Hendersonville before returning home. They said that they were big fans and asked me if I knew where the home was. I told them that it was near and gave them some general directions without knowing the street names myself. I felt a little like I was betraying a secret but they had also come a long way and certainly had as much right as I, (or maybe it was a need) to go by the house and gawk or mourn. I suppose we really had no business at all intruding in that way but in any case, I think we were all just admiring strangers who had come to pay our respects.
Outside the House Of Cash
As I stood talking to Moe and Lisa we were approached by an older woman who had stepped out of a big recreational vehicle that was parked off to the side. She asked if we were fans and we said we were and she said we all loved John very much in a way that made it clear that she was speaking as someone who knew him personally.
She told us her name was Marie and that she and her husband Rolland were good friends of Johnny and June. They had been travelling in their RV and were in Oklahoma City when they heard the news of Johnny’s passing and immediately turned around and headed for Hendersonville. She spoke with us for more than an hour and related many stories that illustrated the decency and kindness of Johnny and June. Intimate stories that were a pleasure to hear and things I would have never known if not for this chance meeting.
The Wolfs had met Johnny and June back in the 1960’s. They were ardent fans that would travel around the country following the Cashes as they toured. At some point Johnny and June began to recognize them and approached Rolland and Marie and apparently struck up a friendship. Eventually the Wolfs started doing some secretarial duties for Johnny and June, even some babysitting. They would stay with the Cashes in Las Vegas when Johnny played there. She said one of the big hotels would only reserve a certain suite for Elvis, Barbra Streisand or Johnny Cash when they came to Vegas to perform. At one point Elvis was supposed to vacate the suite because Johnny was due in town. Elvis however wouldn’t leave and when he finally did about a week later, the room was completely trashed. The King had two boxer puppies that never left the hotel room, so you can imagine the mess. Marie told me that Johnny respected Elvis’ talent but didn’t much like him because when he was younger Elvis had tried to seduce June Carter. She also said that while in Vegas, Johnny never gambled but would give others in his entourage gambling money. Mother Maybelle loved to gamble and enjoyed playing the slots. What a great image that conjures up. Mother Maybelle Carter sitting in a casino feeding coins and pulling the lever. Marie then told a story about how they were watching a young John Carter Cash for a few days at their home in Ohio. John Carter was playing in the yard with Marie’s dog and picked up some dirt and threw it in the dog’s face getting it in it’s eyes. Marie was angry and she spanked him and then held him while he cried. She told him never to do that again because all that dog wanted was love. When Johnny Cash came to pick up John Carter he asked how they got along and she replied, “Everything went fine once I whipped him.” Johnny just shrugged and nodded and never once asked what the whipping was for. She also told of a time when John Carter got a hit in a backyard baseball game with Marie’s boys and how proud and happy Johnny was to witness it.
Bothe Marie and Rolland would get tearful while telling these stories. Marie did most of the talking but Rolland at one point wanted to tell me that no man ever said “Thank you” more than Johnny Cash. He said if Johnny was standing in the middle of an important meeting discussing business and dropped a pencil and you picked it up for him, he would never not stop the conversation to look at you and say “Thank you.” Rolland said that was just one example of how Johnny didn’t take people for granted or expect things just because of his celebrity. Rolland said Johnny was always appreciative which is a nice thing to hear said about someone you admire.
Marie also said that Johnny could have a temper but he would always put things right in the end. He scolded Marie once for interrupting a meeting when an important call came in for him. She wouldn’t speak to him after that and when he realized what he had done, he gave her a hug and then everything was fine. She told another story about a time when Johnny got angry while they were dining out. They were in the middle of a meal and a conversation when their waitress interrupted to ask if he would come back and greet the kitchen staff. Johnny said, “Can’t you see I’m eating?” and the waitress walked away chastised. Marie said he then realized that they had just been discussing Christianity and that his behavior hadn’t been very Christlike, so he put down his fork and went back to the kitchen where he was very cordial with the staff.
Marie talked quite a bit of the strong faith both June and Johnny had. She mentioned that she wasn’t much of a Christian herself and didn’t put much stock in religion but had to give the idea some consideration based on the strength of the Cashes belief. She spoke of a time when Johnny was very sick and in the hospital with pneumonia. June organized a laying of hands prayer service in Johnny’s hospital room. From one day to the next, the x-rays of his lungs revealed a miraculous transformation. Marie also said that they had tried the same thing for June’s sister and that she had died, so Marie doesn’t know what to make of it.
Johnny had asked Rolland and Marie to take over operation of the House Of Cash Museum and they refused and Johnny was a little bit miffed because not many people ever told him no. Marie said too that Johnny was very generous and always trying to do something for them. He wanted to send them to his house in Jamaica but they wouldn’t go because they didn’t want to put their dogs in a kennel while they were away and Johnny offered to fly the dogs down also but they declined and again Johnny was perturbed. He asked the Wolfs if there was anything they needed in their hometown of Minerva and he wanted to purchase a drinking fountain for a park but Rolland and Marie said that they didn’t want anything in return for helping the Cashes. It was clear to me that they really valued their friendship with Johnny and June and the time they had spent together. Most of our conversation was about Johnny but they also spoke very highly of June and said what a kind and decent person she was.
After the Wolfs had shared all of these stories with me, shared their personal memories with a stranger, I felt compelled to show them a copy of my painting. I had printed an 8 x 10” copy of it and had brought it along with the prayer cards I was leaving around town. I told them that I had something I wanted to show them and I retrieved the photograph from my car. When they saw the image of the painting, Marie’s hands started shaking while she held it and her and Rolland both started to tear up. Rolland turned his back to me and let out a sob. At that point I started to tear up to. They both said that I had really captured Johnny’s likeness and I felt glad I had showed it to them because I was initially reluctant to do so. Marie liked that he looked older in the painting but more vigorous and restored than what I imagine he looked like in reality toward the end of his life. I explained that I wanted the painting to be joyous rather than sorrowful because from what I had gathered from his music and the books I had read, I couldn’t imagine anyone being any happier than Johnny Cash to go to Heaven. Such was my impression of his faith.
I told the Wolfs that I had made the painting as a way of preparing and ultimately coping with his imminent passing. His music and consistent faith had done much to bolster my own in some of my darker moods. I told them that if I, a stranger, could feel such an impactful loss that I could only imagine how they must feel. While their loss was deep and personal, mine was more of a profound sadness at the loss of someone I had come to greatly admire from afar, as a decent and blindingly genuine human being. On a purely selfish note, I was sad to think of an end to that music and that voice that I had enjoyed so much.
They recognized June and Johnny’s brother Jack in the painting and I explained to them why I chose the other people I did to populate the image. I felt Roy Acuff, Hank Williams and Woody Guthrie symbolized the heart and soul of Country and Folk Music and that Johnny Cash was surely the culmination of those two genres intertwined and therefore should take the empty seat at the right hand of Jesus. Directly across from this position sits Elvis, who along with Carl Perkins, Johnny Horton and Roy Orbison represent some of Johnny’s closest friends and or Rockabilly contemporaries.
I was very happy that they liked and appreciated the painting and was content to leave it at that. It was then that Marie said that the family should see the painting. I had already told her to keep the copy of it and she said she would like to take it to the visitation and show them. The idea that the painting might be seen by Johnny’s children made my head swim a little. Just to share it with them and hope that they might understand what their father had meant to his fans was beyond anything I would have ever hoped for while painting it. Marie said that she though Roseanne was the most like her father and she thought she would appreciate it the most. I told Marie that if any of his children saw it and liked it that I would be humbled and honored to give it to them. I was really stunned by the happenstance of my meeting the Wolfs and was excited by the prospect of sharing the painting with the family. I sincerely viewed our meeting as an amazing opportunity to give something in return for all the considerable pleasure Johnny Cash’s music had brought me. Marie said that she was going to make sure Rosanne saw it and that knowing her, she was certain that Roseanne would get in touch with me. Rolland thought that John Carter might like to have it but Marie thought that Roseanne, as the eldest child, should have it if she wanted it. That seemed appropriate to me as well but honestly I was pleased just to share it without any expectation of anyone actually wanting it. Marie told me about Roseanne’s new song, September When It Comes, which seemed a terribly ironic and sad title but in retrospect all the more beautiful and appropriate for its timing.
We were still standing in the circle drive talking when a car pulled up next to us and a very distraught woman got out. She went immediately to Marie and gave her a long hug and together both women were gently sobbing. I suddenly felt like an intruder but Marie quickly introduced me to Karen Robin, the wife of Johnny’s manager, Lou Robin. Marie showed her the copy of the painting and explained the premise behind it. Mrs. Robin asked about the upper portion and I explained that I had borrowed from and old masterwork hanging in The Vatican and she said she never saw Elvis at The Vatican. Marie and Mrs. Robin went off into the mobile home to discuss some business concerning the funeral and I thought it might be a good time for me to move on but Rolland and I started talking and before long the two women emerged, said their goodbyes and Mrs. Robin drove off. Rolland, Marie and I stood talking a while longer when a truck came into the drive. Two couples got out and Marie introduced one of the men as Johnny’s nephew, the son of Helen Carter. Once again, I really felt out of place but didn’t want to leave without an opportunity to properly thank Marie and Rolland for sharing their memories. The nephew, whose name I don’t recall asked the Wolfs if they remembered his ex-wife who he was seeing again and they said they did. She was wearing cut off jeans and a Johnny Cash Ring Of Fire t-shirt. I don’t believe the Wolfs knew the other couples that were apparently friends of the nephew. Marie showed them the painting and the nephew said he liked it. He wanted to know if Rolland and Marie could cash a fifty-dollar check because the Wal-Mart across the street wouldn’t. Rolland and the nephew went off to the Wolfs mobile home.
Marie talked a while longer about the last time they had been with Johnny. They knew he was very ill but had seen him fight back so often that they really thought they would see him again when they had left Hendersonville last. They knew he was devastated by June’s death. She said it had been determined that June’s funeral would be private but when Johnny found out he said he wanted it public because June loved people so much. Rolland and Marie were honorary pallbearers at June’s funeral. They thought Johnny would have wanted his funeral public also but that it would likely get out of hand if so.
Marie said they would often stay with Johnny during his hospital stays along with many other friends and family. She would bring him pork sandwiches from home and he always wanted his mustard in a dish, not in packets or a bottle. She told me everyone worked very hard to make his hospital stays as comfortable as possible. Near the end, when Johnny could no longer eat whatever he wanted, she would give him peaches and Diet Coke. She mentioned one time when Johnny insisted Marie share his Diet Coke. She would get quite emotional when recalling these simple acts of kindness.
Johnny had been in the hospital right before the end and things did not look good. They thought that they were going to lose him but then he rebounded and was released. Marie said that the very last time she saw him, she kissed his forehead and rubbed it in so that the kiss would stay with him till they saw each other again as she had done that with John Carter as a child. But she didn’t get to see Johnny again, a few days later they received the news that he was gone. They had really believed that he had made it through another rough spot but in the end thought his body had simply given out. They were so obviously grieving and I knew it was finally time for me to go. I thanked them for sharing all of their wonderful memories and I wrote down my address and phone number and they gave me their address. I asked if I could take their picture.
It was such a pleasure to meet them both and I felt really blessed to get to hear them reminisce about Johnny and June. I walked away knowing my instincts had been correct about Johnny Cash, knowing that he was the same decent human being that was revealed so clearly in his music and voice. I knew it anyway but it was nice to have it confirmed by friends who knew him well.
Rolland & Marie Wolf
After leaving the Wolfs at the House Of Cash I started towards Johnny’s lakeside home. I saw this sign at a church on Johnny Cash parkway.
As I pulled up at the home I was pleased to see that there were already a large number of memorials that had been left along the stone wall that lines the property.
The flag in the yard was at half-staff. There was a reporter with camera crew shooting video and conducting interviews with some of the fans that had gathered. While I was there the people paying their respects were quiet and courteous, a single police car was monitoring the location.
Outside the Cash Home, Hendersonville Tennessee, September 14, 2003
There were many flags and many flowers and a variety of other simple tributes left along the entire length of the wall. I watched a couple pull up with a trunk full of trinkets and overtly construct a gaudy display on the wall, putting on quite the show for the news crew. It somewhat spoiled the dignity of the scene but I guess it takes all types.
I felt the news crew should have focused instead on the mystery barefoot girl who appeared much more genuine in her admiration. She silently stood away from the cameras appearing to quietly pay her respects. She lingered a while and walked back to her car. It was a small red economy car and I noticed that it carried Florida plates. I’m making a substantial assumption but it appeared she had driven up alone upon hearing the news of Mr. Cash’s death and in some strange, intrusive, likeminded way I felt grateful to her for that.
Mystery Barefoot Girl
There were maybe a dozen or so cars that stopped while I was there for about 20 minutes or so. There were many more that drove by slowly without stopping. I left my prayer card on the wall along with three white carnations, right next to the gate.
I left the Cash home for Hendersonville Memorial Gardens where Johnny’s funeral visitation was to take place. I wandered through the cemetery behind the parlor looking for June’s grave or a family plot. After looking in the wrong location for some time, I recognized a man I had seen at the Cash home and near him, The Mystery Barefoot Girl. They were focused on a gravesite near a large blue tarp that was covering a high pile of earth. I walked towards them and found the graves of Mother Maybelle and Ezra Carter along with several others including June’s sister Anita who had died in 1999.
Gravesite of Mother Maybelle Carter
I then saw June’s marker, which was on a nearby granite bench. There was an empty space on the left for Johnny’s marker and that space was covered in flowers.
I stood there a while thinking about Johnny and June and about why I had come and hoping that everything was fine up in Heaven and imagining all those wonderful reunions with June and Jack and Jesus. Those reunions we all hope to have someday with our loved ones who have passed.
The man I had recognized earlier approached me and asked if I knew whether or not Johnny’s parents were buried here. He was middle aged, dressed in short sleeves and a tie. I told him of the headstone back in Bassett Arkansas and said I wasn’t sure. (I was under the mistaken impression that the graves in Bassett were those of his parents when in actuality they were of his older brother and his wife.) He pointed out that June’s marker had been moved from the spot under the tarp so that they could dig Johnny’s grave, he then left to search for Johnny’s parents.
I had left the last three carnations on June’s marker but now walked over and retrieved one. I tossed it up on the tarp that covered what would become Johnny’s resting place. I knew I wouldn’t be around to lay a flower on his grave so that was the best I could do.
I stood again for some time just thinking about Johnny Cash. Thinking somewhat morbidly of how close he was now that he was lying in the funeral home just down the hill. Feeling very sorry that I had never got to shake his hand and tell him how much his music meant to me and knowing there are millions more people who feel the same way. Regretful of the opportunities to see him perform that I let pass, like the time he did a show at The Bluenote in Colombia, Missouri that I missed for whatever reason. I think too of all the shows he played in Branson but I am maybe glad that I never saw him in that environment. I think again of that show at the Fox Theater that had been cancelled and imagine what a great venue that would have been to see a Johnny Cash performance. And then finally I tell myself, maybe it is a good thing that I only saw him perform the one time. That way my memory is clear and I’m not confusing and jumbling multiple performances in my head. The images and sounds that I recall from that singular show are still clear in my head till this day and for that I am grateful.
The Mystery Barefoot Girl smiled at me as we passed one another while meandering separately through the cemetery. I felt our common purpose and wanted to speak with her and give her a prayer card but she was quite young and beautiful and I didn’t want my intentions misconstrued. I thought in fact, that it might come across as creepy. She walked back to her car where she sat down inn the parking lot and shot off three or four bottle rockets from a Big Gulp cup. I guess it was her sendoff for Johnny. It was totally inappropriate for a funeral home and cemetery but absolutely fitting and cool; a really bold and beautiful gesture. I lingered in the cemetery while she packed up her debris and drove away. I thought of her long ride home and it occurred to me that I had one also.
Mystery Barefoot Girl at Hendersonville Memorial Gardens
I was starting to miss the family so I walked to my car and called Jenny to tell her of my conversation with the Wolfs and of my other adventures, She thought it was all very exciting.
I left the funeral home and drove back up the Johnny Cash Parkway one last time. I drove again past the House Of Cash and as I came back down I stopped in a bank parking lot directly across from the funeral home. I wished I could have stayed for the funeral service on Monday although I knew it was private. Still I would like to have witnessed the procession.
I took some video of the funeral home and the hearse. I’m not sure why I did that. I guess I felt like it was an historic event that I wished to preserve. As I stood there some cars started arriving for the visitation that Marie had told me would be that afternoon. A young man in a blue shirt peered at me briefly from across the street and it occurred to me that I was indeed an intruder at this point and a voyeuristic one at that. It was time for me to go home.
I left knowing that I would have to come back and visit this place again. There are many people like myself who despite our deep admiration were never fortunate enough to have met the man. Many like me who didn’t belong among the family and friends, who knew and loved him dearly, as they said their farewells. Still, it is nice to know that people like us can come to this place anytime and walk up a little hill and stand alone with Johnny Cash, and say a prayer or simply thank him for the music.
I had a very pleasant drive home with just a little rain. On Sunday evening, the sky was again beautiful which I continued to attribute to the presence of Johnny Cash in Heaven.
Sunday Morning, September 28th 2003,
I received a phone call around 11 am. It was John Leventhal, husband of Rosanne Cash saying that they had seen the prayer card on the wall outside the home by the lake. They had spoken with Marie about our conversation and they would love to have the painting. I couldn’t have been more pleased.
