This Father's Day we had the joy of a visit from my Aunt Lois Marie. She is my father's little sister, and I never tire of her visits or the chance for her to meet our new additions! On this particular afternoon we reminisced about my grandfather and his good friend Hank Williams Sr. They were both musicians who could play a multitude of instruments. Both of them had mothers who had mastered the piano. And both were true blue Alabama home boys living in Montgomery.
Hank Williams would give my dad and his older brother, Rhodey, a nickel each night they were playing music if they would go to bed without complaining. Complaints would have had my grandma Lois Adaline showing him the door. And I am certain a good deal of drinking was going on as well. These two men were good friends before Hank Williams became further steeped in his music and my grandfather fought in WWII and then came home pretty scarred with PTSD.
My favorite story I had my grandmother tell me over and over growing up was the story behind my all-time favorite Hank Williams song. Hank Williams had just come in from a very long stint of traveling on the road with his tour. He was exhausted from his travels and performing. When I watch movies of old musicians of this era, it is something we don't think about when it comes to the hours on the road in a car that back in the day was not built for comfort.
He stopped by my grandparents' house for coffee and told them about his latest song he had just written. He was heading home and when he topped a hill he saw a beacon light. My aunt later explained to me it was a light that flashed on top of a radio tower. It was one of the first things you would see coming into Montgomery.
Seeing this light he realized he was home. When he got back to his mother's house she got on her piano and they figured out the tune to this magical song that has been equated to a Christian song of coming home. The song was "I Saw the Light." And after our visit yesterday when my mother started her car that exact song was playing on her radio. Coincidence or a wink from heaven?
Before our day was wrapped up three of my four boys pulled out their instruments and began playing just as Hank and Grandpa Rho would have done many moons ago. Some traditions run in the blood although their mother can barely make it through a song on her piano smoothly. But my husband, having had a musician for a grandfather, also brought his own genes to the table and when we listen to our twin sons play the Louisiana home boy's spirit comes out in a different kind of sound.
So, here's to fathers of all ages who have left their prints in the ground for the next generation to follow. My daughter in law gave our son a painting of his boot print and Daniel's one year old foot print inside it. It was signed "following in your shoes". I could not think of a better gift to pass on to a father. The greatest impact great men leave behind is not in the shape of a building or a dollar bill. It is internal and cannot be held by the hand but only in the heart. That's one of the many beauties in God's creation. And the echoes of their music still play on in our hearts.
