An ever growing site of non-fiction,flotsam, fiction,memoir,autobiography,literature,history, ethnography, and book reviews about Appalachia, Appalachian Culture, and how to keep it alive!!! Also,how to pronounce the word: Ap-uh-latch-uh. Billy Ed Wheeler said that his mother always said,"Billy, if you don't quit, I'm going to throw this APPLE AT CHA" Those two ways are correct. All The Others Are Wrong.
Search This Blog
Sunday, July 5, 2026
Ned Pillersdorf Appearance At The Mountain Arts Center, July 4, 2026
Wednesday, July 1, 2026
Tommy Webb Plays Bluegrass For Free On July 4th 2026, at Mountain Arts Center In Prestonsburg, KY, Free Barbecue by James Butler
Monday, November 30, 2020
"Milky Way Accent & Selected Work" by Robert "Bob" Snyder--Book Review
Nearly two months ago, on October 2, 2020, I received in my mail as a total surprise a copy of the new posthumous poetry collection, "Milky Way Accent & Selected Work" by Robert "Bob" Snyder which had been gifted to me by Bob's widow Peggy. She and Bob's sister, Yvonne Snyder Farley had worked with Dos Madres Press to get the work published on which Bob had apparently been working when he died twenty-five years ago. First and foremost, let me say that I have always thought that Bob Snyder was one of that very small handful of poets for whom it could be argued that they were the best the state of West Virginia had ever produced. Bob had self-published several small collections of poetry, both individually and in joint works with former National Book Award Finalist P. J. Laska and Joseph Barrett. Bob had also published numerous non-fiction articles during his lifetime in a variety of journals including "Appalachian Heritage", "The Journal of Appalachian Studies", and others. But this is his first, and, sadly, probably his last book from a recognized publisher of poetry.
Just as Bob Snyder was a complex and multi-talented man, this is a complex book of poetry. Bob was an aficionado of jazz, blues, scat, and Bluegrass music. He loved the rural areas and small milltowns of West Virginia along with the mean streets of Appalachian Cincinnati where he lived and listened to bluegrass while finishing his masters degree at the University of Cincinnati. As you read his book, you will hear scat riffs, blues laments, and fiery hot Bluegrass runs straight from the hills of Appalachia which Bob Snyder loved. Two of my favorite older poems from Bob are included in this work: "Aubade" which was imprinted on a limited edition broadside shortly after his death in 1995 and is considered by many of his admirers as his poetic masterpiece, and "Grandma", a subtly powerful poem written from the viewpoint of a grandson who found his grandmother's old purse "...stiff as a weed in winter with a fading goldengold clasp..." and, in a moment of connection, grief, and respect "...from your very last pack smoking one of your Phillip Morrises...". That, my friends, is poetry from West Virginia, born and bred in those green, fog shrouded mountains both pristine and ravaged depending on which creek or branch you travel up or down, which ridge you cross or simply can't find anymore in the silt working its way down the Kanawha River. The other poem, "Aubade" which I consider Bob's masterpiece is paean to love in rhythmic, flowing, trilling syllables which worm their way into your brain and never leave..."if thieves come baby and steal the chairs we won't get up won't go nowheres". It captures that moment all lucky people have or have hoped for when love was ripe, young, fervid, and articulate requiring nothing except the presence of that one you love in a quiet room where memories are made for an entire lifetime.
If you love Appalachia, West Virginia, flowing language, and sweet, bucolic phrasing which can turn suddenly into the sound of a neighbor's barking, biting dog tied on a short chain to a porch post in the head of a holler where you have to walk by on your way home while hoping the chain holds, this is the book of poetry for you. If you love to see a brilliant poet who could carry on a lucid conversation with Rilke or Sappho just minutes after drinking Raleigh County moonshine with the man who made it in the middle of a moonlit night, this is the book of poetry for you. If you love language, linguistic tricks, subtle phrasing mixed with sledge hammer blows, sweet words scattered through a lover's quarrel, or just damn fine, down home poetry, this is the book for you. If you do not know the poetry of Bob Snyder, you need to meet the man as he appears on the pages of this little jewel. You need to imagine spending an evening listening to Bob read his work in a Vine Street bar or watching him perform great scat without a musical instrument. Buddy, you need to read this book.
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Suicide As A Theme In Country And Bluegrass Music
![]() |
| David "String Bean" Akemon--Photo by Wide Open Country |
Lay by the railroad tracks
I'm gonna go downtown
Lay down by the railroad tracks
You see I don't want nothin'
Since my baby, she ain't comin' back
My lady she's gone
Took all my reason to live
My baby she gone
Took all my reason to live
Since she don't want me
I got nothin' left to give
Chorus:
She won't see me
Won't pick up the telephone
I wonder if she knows
She's the reason that I'll be gone
Lay in my bed
Stare at the ceiling for a while
I'm gonna lay in my bed
Stare at the ceiling for a while
My baby gonna miss me
My lady gonna miss me when I die
(Repeat Chorus)
Got my pills
Got my bottle of gin
I'm gonna swallow my pills
Swallow my bottle of gin
When I close my eyes
I won't see the sun again
(Repeat Chorus)
Get me a gun
Go back into my room
I'm gonna get me a gun
One with a barrel or two
You know I'm better off dead than
Singing these suicide blues
![]() |
| Bobbie Gentry--Photo by Rolling Stone |
One of my favorite performers and song writers of all time, Tom T. Hall, wrote a song called "The Rolling Mills Of Middletown" in which the narrators friend disappears in a steel mill in the Ohio steel town of Middletown to which hundreds, if not thousands, of native Appalachians moved in the Great Migration. In that song, the narrator tells a story of his friend who is a worker in a steel mill who marries a woman of questionable morals. "I knew he shouldn't marry any woman quite that wild Then later on I learned that she had been expectin' a child." After the marriage, things go down hill as they often do, both in real life and in country music songs. "He worked all night she shopped all day bought everything that fit A helper on the BOF three thousand degrees at a round His wife was just about that hot in the bars in old Middletown Of course he was the last to know". Those lines continue the story of the deteriorating marriage and are reinforced by the line in the repeated refrain "the rolling mills of Middletown roll on, roll on, roll on". That refrain is a clear indicator of the inevitability of life both for a steel mill worker and for the subject of the song in his unsalvageable marriage. Then Tom T. Hall, who is one of the greatest songwriters who ever lived in my opinion, brings us to his own enigmatic conclusion. "One night the foreman on his turn said, "Cool down No 2" And he told my friend to go on home as soon as he was through He stopped into a little bar to have a good cold beer His woman and some dayturn guy were dancing closely there Oh, I knew him well and in his mind there must have been a storm While the rolling mills of Middletown roll on, roll, on roll on They say he never spoke a word he just turned and walked away". The jilted husband now has irrevocable proof of his wife's infidelity and instead of confronting her and her companion "he just turned and walked away. And no one knows exactly what took place that fateful day." Hall, "The Storyteller" as he has been known for many years, has nearly brought this story to its sad conclusion. He has left us with that lack of knowledge again and we don't know "what took place that fateful day." All Hall leaves us with is the enigma of exactly what happened to his friend. "Some say they saw him near the tracks at furnace No 1 With heat so hot the hubs of hell would seem just barely warm Well, they never saw my friend again did he do something wrong While the rolling mills of Middletown Ohio roll on, roll on, roll on." He has left us with the friend's last known location "near the tracks at furnace No 1 With heat so hot the hubs of hell would seem just barely warm". We do know that the friend was near the furnace which is described in that incredibly grapic line "With heat so hot the hubs of hell would seem just barely warm". By using the words "hubs of hell" Hall has also inserted a reminder of the puritanical vision of Hell as a punishment for suicide which is often considered to be an unpardonable sin. Just as we must come to our own conclusions about Billy Joe and the narrator in the previous song, we also must reach our own conclusions about the subject of Hall's wonderful suicide song. The natural assumption is that either the distraught husband "did something wrong" or that he deliberately walked into the death zone of the furnace. No matter how you personally believe the man responded to his wife's infidelity, you have to conclude that it is a fine suicide song by one of the world's great songwriters.
Another of my favorite song writers of all time in both Country and Bluegrass Music is Dolly Parton who has written numerous songs in categories which I loosely call "Songs For Social Workers". She wrote and recorded a song called "The Bridge" about a young pregnant woman who is contemplating suicide and that song is narrated in the first person. "You kissed me for the first time here An' held me awfully tight And the bridge became our favorite place We came here often in the night." Parton, who is a songwriter in that same class among the greatest in both genres as is Tom T. Hall, has told us that the affair began on the bridge and she raises the symbolism of darkness by saying "We came here often in the night". And that mention of the night is naturally a premonition of the young woman's death. The concluding stanza clearly leaves us knowing that the narrator has committed suicide when she says: "To think that you could leave me here My heart is beating wild Tonight, while standing on the bridge With our unborn child My feet are moving slowly Closer to the edge Here is where it started And here is where I'll end it.... Parton has left us with no doubt that her young, pregnant narrator will "end it" and step off the bridge to her death before her fatherless child can be born. Interestingly, this song is only one of several which Parton has written and recorded about young women who become pregnant by men who later desert them although all the other female characters in those songs do not commit suicide.
![]() |
| A Young Dolly Parton--Photo by Good Housekeeping |
While every singer and songwriter in Country and Bluegrass Music does not perform or write songs about suicide, enough of such songs have been written and recorded by musicians and writers in the two genres to make the subject of suicide a common theme in both types of music. And both Dolly Parton and Tom T. Hall have strong histories and lifelong commitments to both genres. Each of them has written and performed for many decades in both genres. Both have written numerous songs in each genre which are among the best known in all of American music. I am sure that we will never see the end of suicide as a subject in both Country and Bluegrass.










