Just a couple of weeks ago when I spoke to my dad, I told him Mary always asked about how he was doing. This last time, she said to please tell him she listened to his tape of old cow songs a lot; that she could just put it on and it would take her to another place. I told my dad this and that she was losing out to cancer. It sure brought a tear to his eye, to know that he'd helped out someone with his music in that way, esp. when he's on the downhill side, too. Anyway, here's something about all of that which Mary sent me. I am sure she wouldn't mind my sharing it:

"It had been awhile since I listened to Sparky's tape, so I popped it in this morning. Gosh, I do so love that tape!

"It's almost like being in the room with him.

"Anyone who's not had the pure delight of hearing an older ballad singer has missed out on a lot. I was fortunate, as a child, to be around quite a few older fellas who sang and played music. My favorite, and one of the reasons I wanted to play guitar, was my aunt's husband. He was 6'6" and legally blind. He was, of all unlikely things, a bookkeeper for a coal mine. He had no vision in one eye and only 10% vision in the other. He had to hold his columns of figures within a few inches of his "good" eye.

"My aunt thought guitar music was too "country" and she wouldn't allow it in the house. He'd played since he was a child and I'm sure it was hard for him to give it up, but she was in charge. When I was very small, probably around three, I was staying at their house and he said he wanted to show me something in the attic. I was afraid of the steep, dark stairs, but climbed up after him. My aunt had walked to town and he knew she'd be gone quite awhile. He went behind some "stuff" piled on the floorless rafters under the eaves and brought out a box. When he opened the lid, there was a "Gene Autry" guitar from a mail order company, quite a cheap model, I later realized, and he'd probably had to stash change for some time to order that guitar. He'd had it sent to the coal mine and smuggled it into the house.

"He took it out of the box and tuned it, then played a Carter family rendition of "Pal of Mine." I thought I might burst open. It became a weekly event, if I was at their home on weekends, that when my aunt walked to town, he and I would go up to the attic and he'd play and sing.

So, Sparky's tape brings back those memories and I do so enjoy the "visit" with him"