Of coronavirus. From The New York Times obituary:
After graduating from high school, he worked for the Post Office for two years before being drafted into the Army, which sent him to West Germany in charge of the motor pool at his base. After being discharged, he resumed his mail route, in and around his hometown, composing songs in his head.I can’t claim to know his music well, but I’ve never forgotten this song from my folkie youth.
“I always likened the mail route to a library with no books,” he wrote on his website. “I passed the time each day making up these little ditties.”
comments: 6
Tracy told me this first news of the day before we'd even said good morning. The pit of bad news is bottomless. But you make a great choice to share "...Flag Decal..." with us.
I played "Sam Stone" for my class this morning, which I think might be his best. They seemed appropriately stunned by this sad song. But if anyone prefers a funny, sorta-sexy-but-deeply-awkward-and-moving duet to remember John Prine, please listen to "In Spite of Ourselves," featuring the equally great Iris Dement.
Thanks for those titles, Stefan. I will look them up.
“There’s a hole in daddy’s arm” — what unsparing clarity.
“In Spite of Ourselves” makes me think that he listened to the same Mississippi John Hurt records I did. Beautiful.
Listening to a Twin Cities radio station playing a two-hour tribute --just now playing a song "Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone" off the album "Bruised Orange" (1978)---is that a relative of OCA?
Maybe an ancestor?
Ha--right! Once there's a crate, the oranges aren't bruised!
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