April 11th

Today is April 11, 2010.

It has been a while since I have posted anything. Loosing my Father two years and one month ago tomorrow hurt....Then a month later loosing one of the greatest musical friends I ever had Arthur Johnson from Cumberland Kentucky made me wonder if anyone that I loved would get out of 2009 alive.

Today April 11 is my fathers birthday. He was born in 1926.

In thinking back to some others April 11th's. In 1970 Howard Fackler and I were at Berea College. We left friday morning the 10th after the roll had been taken at Hardin Reynolds Memorial School and drove all day to get there. About 5 that afternoon I got to the College and called Bentrus Smith my cousin and he started to tell us how to get to the dorm. I had driven farther than I had ever driven in my life and I said "Just come get us, I'm tired of driving". It was only a few hundred yards away, but at that point seemed many many miles. I took placement test later on the 11th. After the test we walked down toward the Rail Road Tracks to Hayes's Furniture Store and heard some guys playing music it was Old Joe Clark and the Baker Brothers. Years later I found it was Linda Hayes's Birthday that day and it was her dad's furniture store. This was the first days in Berea and I had no idea at this point of the wonderous times and experiences that College and Kentucky would bring me over the next 18 years.

April 11, 1970 Apollo 13 was happening about this time too. We saw the splash down when we got back to Hardin Reynolds the next week. Many years later I had the wonderful opportunty to have breakfast with Jim Lovell, the commander.


April 9th, 10th, 1971 found me at Berea College as a Freshman. This was the weekend of the "Mountain Folk Festival". I met someone who was to become very special to me in years to come. Things have never really worked the way they could have, but that's the way things happen. But life isn't over yet either.

There are many more April 11ths that are special but:
Today, April 11th 2010 my nephew left for a 4 year term with the US Marines. Only 1,461 Days -- or -- 208 Weeks and 5 Days until he is back with us.

Only 1461 days until he returns. I know Gage will enjoy the adventures he will experience and see great wonders of the world. It is my hope that he returns to us safely in due time.

I'll offer a simple prayer that came to me many many years ago. "I ask the lord to allow me guidance and understanding and help and guide us all to do what is right and what is best for those around us."
I wish that for you this evening Gage.

I'll close for now, but will try to keep better touch with my blog as it allows me to get some things out that should be committed to paper or at least space where ever it may take that space as.

Doug Hutchens
7:38 April 11, 2010

The last trip Home

The Last Trip Home

Doug Hutchens - dmhutchens@aol.com
In June of 1971, I was laying awake in a bunk on a hot June night at Bean Blossom. The bus belonged to Ralph Lewis. It was loaned to Bill while a new air conditioner was being installed on the "Blue Grass Special." This night was a good time for thinking; everyone was gone, it was quiet and still. I had spent the day working with Joe Stuart, Jack Hicks, and "The Chief." We had been working on a new fence along the road at the park. Kenny Baker would have been a part of this troupe, but he had cut his leg with a chain saw two weeks before and could play the shows, but the doctor didn't want him to overdo it. I was thinking of the "Brown County Jamboree Barn," which we were parked beside, all the entertainers who had performed there over the years and the many Blue Grass Boys who had performed on the stage. Then, for the first time, a thought crossed my mind: "What will we do some day, when nature takes its course?" Little did I know, that 25 years later I would follow "The Chief" on his final trip home.

A friend, Tony Testerman, called me at 5:42 on Monday afternoon and asked if I had heard. That was all that he had to say, for I knew what he meant. He had just heard it on the Kingsport TV station. I immediately called Tony Conway at Buddy Lee Attractions, Tony had taken care of Bill's booking and his business arrangements for many years. I found that he had passed about 1:20 and the arrangements were in the process of being made. That evening the CBS Evening News paid a timely and appropriate tribute and made many who hadn't heard the news aware of his passing.

On Tuesday evening, I left home about 8 p.m. and started to Nashville. WSM was playing Bill's music as a tribute. In fact, from the time the news was received until after the services in Nashville, all the music on WSM was by Bill and the Blue Grass Boys, a total of 22 hours with Eddie Stubbs pulling 15 of those hours. Tonight Eddie was doing a wonderful job, using just the right words to compliment the music. Frequent emotional pauses in his voice reminded me of the difficulty of his job this evening. This night, Eddie sounded much like the late Grant Turner, as I recalled the thousands of hours that I had driven late at night and those early mornings, listening to "Mr. Grant." He always sounded like he was right there in the car with you. Tonight Eddie was riding with me. As his shift ended, I was pulling into a motel in Knoxville. I waited in the car as the show closed with Bill's last performance from March 15 on the Friday Night Opry. In Bill's playful voice, he asked the crowd if he "could come back and play for them again sometime soon." Then the theme, "Watermelon Hanging On the Vine."

On Wednesday morning, as I continued to Nashville, listening to WSM's Richard Thomas who does the 'Flight 650' traffic report, he gave regular and reverent references of the progress of the funeral procession from Madison to the Ryman Auditorium. Traffic seemed especially heavy this morning. When I turned the corner to the Ryman, a flood of memories came at me. . . . The first time I went up those stone steps, through the iron gates, and backstage with Bill. Then a mental picture of Stringbean, Grandpa, and Roy swapping stories with Bill backstage. Being sent out to the bus to get Bill's stage shoes shined by the old gentleman who took care of them. Nights leaving the Ryman after working the Opry and meeting back at the bus on Dickerson Road at midnight to travel through the night for tomorrow's date. . . .

I parked and walked down to the Ryman and into a side door. There I was met by James and Tony Conway, and, in front of the stage where he so often stood tall and proud, today he rested. His glasses and hat were close by and a row of quarters that he so loved to give little kids were within easy reach. I then realized that I should go and join the others at the new entrance. As I turned to leave, Tony Conway stopped me and James said "Daddy would want you down here with us today."

From a few minutes after 8 a.m. until 11, the line was constant; many familiar faces from around the country and for each who made the journey, you knew that there were countless others who were there in spirit. Many of the Opry family came by: Grandpa and Ramona Jones, Porter Wagoner, Bill Carlisle, Bill Anderson, Jim Ed Brown, Little Jimmy Dickens, Jan Howard, Earl and Louise Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Jim and Jesse McReynolds, and the list went on and on.

Just prior to the beginning of the services, Pete Kuykendall turned to Bryon Berline and myself and pointed to a draped instrument stand that was surrounded by the multitude of flowers. We had an idea of what would be placed there. It was both a disappointment and a relief when the pallbearers placed the mandolin that was presented to Bill commemorating his 50th anniversary with the Opry on the stand. Tony Conway then placed a red rose on the shroud that held the instrument. It was a major letdown that it was not the "old mandolin" that had been Bill's constant companion for over 50 years and a relief, in that it would have been very difficult for some of us, seeing the instrument so close and knowing that they were never to work together again. Many of us experienced this through a veil of fresh tears.

The services were wonderful. Bill would have been pleased.

As the bagpipes played and Bill left the Ryman for the last time, we followed. TV, radio, and newspaper reporters shot video, took photos and asked questions. As the procession departed, friends and fans spoke softly and visited.

Today, I felt a need to be the last person to leave, after talking to many, many friends and a lengthy conversation with Mary Yeomans and Eddie Stubbs, an hour and a half after the end of the service, it was time for me to go as well. The Ryman stood silent and alone once again.

On Thursday morning at 9:17, the final trip to Ohio County began. A small procession left the Madison Funeral Home. Across Gallatin Road on Old Hickory Boulevard, past the turn to Earl's, just a mile or so prior to Dickerson Road (where Bill had once lived, owned some property from time to time, and maintained an office), we turned north on Interstate 65. Two Tennessee Highway Patrolmen handled traffic control within the city and acted as an Honor Guard to Rosine.

As the procession passed Long Hollow Pike, "the farm" came to mind. It was the place, as he would describe it, "way out in the country at the end of a dead end road," where he could turn his dogs loose and listen to them run. Bill called it home. There were fence posts that Edd Mayfield had planted in the 50's, repairs to the barn and work on the cabin done by former Blue Grass Boys, where Bill took care of his animals and tended his crops, where he sat in the old porch swing and enjoyed the sunrises and sunsets. This was his home, second only to the highways.

At 9:50 on September 12, 1996, Bill Monroe returned to Kentucky. James, later in the day at the church, commented, "Daddy traveled the world and received many honors, but I think he was more proud of being called a Kentuckian than anything."

As the procession turned west on the William Natcher Parkway, even though it was a four-lane highway, many cars pulled to the side of the road showing respect. After turning off at the Hartford exit, my vision was again blurred with tears as the procession was now joined by two Kentucky State Patrolmen as an additional honor guard. This was a two-lane road and now each car we met stopped. At a school, several stood around the flagpole with the flag at half staff, others stood in thier front yards awaiting the passing.

When the sign Rosine came into view, the road was lined with people. The procession turned right into the community park and behind the church -- the "little community churchyard" that he had sung about all through the years. I couldn't help thinking of how much today I felt like I did 25 years ago, when I first rode the bus into my first festival as a Blue Grass Boy, only this was the saddest trip I had ever taken.

After we parked, I again was reminded of some of the early festivals like Ashland and Jackson, Kentucky, where the schedule was created after Bill got on the grounds. As the pallbearers made their way up the steps into the church, one lone dog in the distance barked in the saddened silence of this morning. Soon the rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance and, after a few minutes of a heavy mist, the heavens too gained thier composure, leaving an overcast sky to protect the large crowd that would hear the services on the speakers that had been set outside.

For the next 3 hours, friends and fans filed into the church, in front of the Master and out a back door. At one time the line reached to Highway 62, about a quarter mile away. Of those who attended, twelve hundred signed the guest register, there were two very full lines, many in the second line didn't take the time to sign.

Behind the church chairs.

James told David Deese, Wayne Lewis and myself, "I need you fellows to help us with some music, maybe 'Precious Memories' and 'Amazing Grace' and some numbers like that." The Ryman services had been pre-planned but this funeral was to be done just as Bill had played his shows for years and years, with no set list.

After some local speakers, Ms Alma Randolph sang, then Ralph Stanley and Ricky Skaggs sang, then the Blue Grass Boys sang for Bill. Wayne Lewis took the reigns and David Deese, Dan Jones and myself kept a steady flow of former Blue Grass Boy lead singers and friends to speak. I had spoken to Bobby Osborne earlier and he mentioned that he and Sonny and Jim & Jesse had shared a dressing room with Bill at the Opry for the past 15 years. The first time I asked if he would like to say anything, he said he did not think he could get through it. A second request, and gentle urging that he would be glad that he did, was graciously honored. His words summed it up for many of us who were there when he said he was "so glad that the had lived in the time of Bill Monroe."

Skeeter Davis spoke of when she was 17 and went to Nashville, and Buck White and Sister Margie Sullivan offered kind words. Soon Reverend Baggett began his part of the service. It was a funeral that any man who had ever lived in the country would have been proud of.

It was getting late in the day and, as the service was over, Wayne Lewis and Sandy Rothman placed a flat pick in Bill's right hand, and then the last part of the journey was underway. There were so many flowers, they were all around, including two double rows of wreaths forming a 100- foot walkway from the road to the gravesite. "My Old Kentucky Home" was sung. Ralph Stanley repaid the favor of 30 years ago, when Bill sang "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" at his brother Carter's funeral. Ricky started "Blue Moon of Kentucky" and everyone joined in as best they could.

As I raised my head and opened my eyes from the final prayer, I felt different. The sky looked bluer, the grass and the trees looked greener, and the wind had picked up. Fitting, I guess, as he was now at home, at rest in the place where so often had talked and sung about.

As the Blue Grass Boys gathered, and others spoke softly, a last shovel of sod was placed on a new grave at 4:17. The Man, who was born Wednesday September 13, 1911, and traveled from Rosine, Kentucky, around the world, leaving the gift of Blue Grass Music, today had come full circle and returned to the earth on Thursday, September 12, 1996.

The Passing of My Father, James Aubrey Hutchens

James Aubrey Hutchens and his great grand son Mason Michael Bennett............

http://dignity.mem.com/Story.aspx?ID=2912844 go to video

The Passing of my Father, Aubrey Hutchens

James Aubrey Hutchens and his great grandson Mason Michael Bennett




Yesterday morning about 9:15 March 12, 2009 my father passed away. He had been battling cancer for some time, it was his time.

My sister Vicki has been his constant caretaker for the past 4 weeks, never leaving him. We all take such comfort in that in his last days, he wasn't in pain. He will be with us as we awake in the morning and as we retire each evening for as long as we live.

Dad was one of those guys that all the little kids and animals took too. A couple of years ago we had a stray cat that someone put out and it showed up at the barn. He was solid black and we started calling him Midnight. You could tell that the cat had been mistreated and was very very shy. After it had been around about a month one morning I went around to the back of the house and Daddy said watch this. When he opened the basement door to let our dog Bobo out (Dad always put the dog in the basement in cold weather) and the dog and the cat walked out and both were all around dad's legs, each wanting more attention that the other. A few days later when I happened to be out at the barn when Dad fed the horse, he said "Watch this". As he leaned over into the stall to put some sweet feed in there for Bill, the horse, Midnight was in the loft just above his head and when he leaned over into the stall, the cat would tap him on the cap, he would lean in again and the cat would tap him again. Dad had gotten some cat food and was feeding him at the barn each morning and evening as he put Bill up.

He loved all of us but his pride and joy was the Grand Kids, Brikk, Gage and Cristen and then Brikk's little boy Mason. He dearly loved them.

I sure wish they could have had more time together.


When I started to learn to play the banjo, Dad got me my first one for Christmas in 1963. Lillian my Mom, and her family all could play the guitar and two of Dad's younger brothers, Bruce and John played, but Dad never did.

He did enjoy music though. He and Mom loved to dance. In the early 1960's, when they started having "Round and Square Dances" at the local Virginia North Carolina Ruritan Building they needed someone to call the dances. Up until that time he had never done it but he started and called the dances for all the years that the dance continued. I have very fond memories of trying to learn to play the banjo and watching Mom and Dad and my sisters Kathy and Vicki dancing.

In the late 60's he and I went to the first show where I saw Bill Monroe. It was from that show that we heard of a festival that was going to be held at Terrell North Carolina the first week of November so we went and slept in the car for two nights. Boy Oh Boy it was cold, but we enjoyed it.

Later when I went to work with Bill Monroe for the summer of 1971 Bill had told me that they would call when they got to Bristol and to meet them at the truck stop in Roanoke. So Mom and Dad and my sisters all went. I was really excited to be able to go to travel with Bill Monroe. When we got there they were just coming out of the truck stop after eating and I put my stuff on the bus. Bill, Dad and Mom all stood by the car and talked for a little while. Then it was time to go and Dad and Bill walked away and talked for a few minutes. That is one of the most wonderful memories I have in life seeing my Dad and Bill just walking and talking and knowing that Dad was probably telling Bill something like now that boy's never been away from home that much and if he gets out there and gets into something you set him straight. I never ask Bill or Dad what was said, but I've always tried to be the kind of person that both of them would be proud of.

In the mid 80's my sisters and I decided that we needed to take Mom and Dad to Nashville. Back then you had to get tickets months in advance if you wanted the good seats. At that point the Artist had to let the Opry know by Wednesday if they would be in town for the either Friday or Saturday shows. My spirits were crushed when I found that Bill wasn't going to be in town that weekend. For some reason I just had a feeling so I called Kenny Bakers number after we got in town on friday and low and behold he answered. I said I thought you guys were out of town and he said that they had a date cancelled and would be working the Opry that night. Again I felt pretty bad because we only had tickets for Saturday nights show. He said "Well, just call out the the farm and Bill will take care of you". I burned the phone up all afternoon to no avail, when I tried to call Kenny back he had left too. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that we weren't going to be able to see Bill this time. We went on out to the Cracker Barrell on Music Valley Drive and were eating supper and in a few minutes Bill walked in. He immediately saw Mom and Dad and came over. He asked if we were coming to the Opry and I told him that we had tickets for Saturday night. He said "Well I'll take care of that". So after eating he put Mom and Dad in his Limo and the rest of us followed. Mom and Dad really had a great time back stage at the Opry. It couldn't have turned out better.
Bill checking the schedule of who he was introducing on his portion of the Opry

Bill after introducing the act after he had opened the show....from Mom and Dad's seat ON STAGE.....

Mom, Bill, Dad back stage at the Opry

After Dad retired he started helping LaRay Smith who runs a machine shop in the area. It gave Dad something to do that he enjoyed. One weekend I mentioned something about a guy who was having problems getting capos made. He inquired about what the problem was and I told him that they wanted them made of Stainless Steel and so far hadn't found anyone to make them. He said let him talk to LaRay and see what he thought. I was on the road somewhere for Gibson and called home and Dad said that LaRay wanted to see what we wanted made. I told him which banjo had one like I was talking about so he took it and that led to LaRay and Tom McKinney getting together. This was about the time that Tom's patented capo was ready to be made. Soon they started making those for Tom and later for Bill Stokes at Showcase. LaRay still makes components for several of those products.

A year or so after this Little Roy Lewis started saying that someone had to start making some good fingerpicks. That led to LaRay making the tooling to stamp the Roy's Own picks. For the first few years I punched them and did the the shaping and finishing as well. Later Lynwood Lunceford, Jamie Holt did the punching but Dad took over the shaping and finishing.

Later when Jamie Holt went to college, Dad took over the complete operation. Doing the punching all the shaping and the finishing and Mom would package them. About this time we started doing some special picks for Bob Perry and Dad even did a special run of picks for Ralph Stanley. Dad always took such pride in anything he did. Little Roy would call them every month or so and he and Dad always enjoyed each other’s company. When ever Ralph was in the area they would sit and talk about things.

Mom and Dad both have enjoyed the music through the years and I thank them for the encouragement to go and follow my dream.

I'll close for now, but I just had to get a few feelings committed into words and anyone who had chosen to read, I thank you.


Arrangements are:
Visitation 6-8PM Saturday March 14, 2009 at Community Funeral Home in Patrick Springs, Virginia with the Funeral Services to be held at 2PM Sunday March 15, 2009 at the same location. Burial will be at the Pleasant Grove Primitive Baptist Church Cemetery.

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Doug Hutchens
dmhutchens@aol.com
doug.hutchens@stokes.k12.nc.us

A Successful Life

"A successful life is made up of the people you meet and the experiences you share."

Doug Hutchens

Leaders

"True Leaders give birth to new paths; but many times followers deepen, widen and sometimes turn them into ruts". (in a meeting during the summer of 1975)

Doug Hutchens

Meeting Arthur Johnson and being a member of the Appalachian Semester Panel

In the early 1970’s , I think it was 1971, Julian Mosley the Director of the Appalachian Semester at Union College in Barbourville Kentucky ask me to be on a panel with Arthur Johnson and Julia Ann Fleming.

(This was about the time that the of Berea’s First http://flickr.com/photos/adcreech/2623380162/ Appalachian Music Symposium was held as well. Dr. Gary English asked Glenn Lawson, Dean Louie Smith and I go out to Indian Fort Theater and do some photos for the promotion of an Appalachian Music Symposium beginnings which were little more than a concert of local entertainers at Phelps Stokes Chapel. Later it became a multi-day more scholarly approach of traditional music. This was my innatial introduction to Glenn who became a wonderful friend and band mate for the remainder of our time in college. At that point Glenn was playing a 12 string guitar with a big Peace Symbol on it and we didn‘t know if for some time but Dean Smith didn‘t play the fiddle, it was one he just bought somewhere and it was a joke having him
look as if he was playing. Dean Louie Smith was one of the most beloved members of the Berea College Community)
http://www.berea.edu/appalachiancenter/ctm/history.asp

Julia Ann who was a musicologist and working on an advanced degree at Indiana University and Arthur who was a living, breathing and walking encyclopedia of traditional music from the mountains. I was to add a Bluegrass perspective to the group. Our sessions were always held on a Friday.

The original format was two morning sessions, two afternoon sessions and an evening performance. It was a very informal atmosphere with the 3 of us sitting on a corner couch and chair and with students either sitting on the floor or in folding chairs.
The morning usually began with Julia Ann or Arthur with either a dulcimer or guitar accompanied song and that would lead to a lively interchange of facts and questions. a discussion of music and its role through the ages, music from the British Isles, Child Ballads, Broadsides, early collectors like Cecil Sharp were usually a good area of discussion. http://www.mustrad.org.uk/articles/sharp.htm

As the day progressed, the discussion moved into the role of music in the daily life of the pioneers, immigration patterns of people and how traditions were maintained and evolved, the various schools of thought of the origin of the dulcimer, early commercial entertainers on the radio such as the Carter Family, The Monroe Brothers, Early Radio Programs, like Farm and Fun Time, WSL Barn Dance, WSM Grand Ole Opry, The Renfro Valley Barn Dance then on into early country entertainers, then known as hillbilly musicians.
We would talk about the music for a while then someone would sing or play an example.

I learned a lot. Most of the information I knew was from early (commercial) country music. I had been a member of a the Berea Country Dancer’s http://www.berea.edu/peh/dance/countrydancers.asp a folk dance troupe that did all sorts of Folk Dances from around the world and had heard of Cecil Sharpe. I don’t mind telling you that I felt totally out of my element the first morning, but as the day progressed Arthur in his folksy way brought me around. He has a wonderful and sensitive approach to the music and its people and I’ve never felt out of place around him since then.
After the first year Julian left Union College and Sherman Oxendine took over the Appalachian Semester. Sherman was a wonderful warm individual that always reminded me of my Uncle Eustace. Easy going and so appreciative of all that we did at Union College. It was during the time that Sherman was the Director of the Appalachian Semester that it really blossomed. After a few years it was only Arthur and I doing the sessions. We kept the same format as before with Arthur filling in on the things that Julia had talked about in previous years.
Sherman arranged for us to visit to the local radio station WYWY during the noon hour while folks were eating their lunch which provided a great opportunity to invite the community to the evening concert. Soon our audience grew so large we had to move from the multi-purpose room to the Little Theater there at Union College.

We had a number of wonderful students as well as local entertainers that always came and was a part of the program. I can remember Doc (and my mind goes blank of his last name) and his Full Gospel Banjo Band who always had request for “The Cat Came Back“ , The Phipps Family who did wonderful Original Carter Family Music. There were many, many others which escape me now, but those evenings were a wonderful and magical example of the power of music.
The evening sessions were always well attended by the community.

When Sherman retired in 1984 the format of The Appalachian Semester Traditional Music Symposium remained but 1985 was the last year that I participated. Since then Arthur and I have performed many times. He came to Alice Lloyd College for a couple of performances while I worked there and did convocations of which I had the honor to play with him on and for the past several years he had graciously joined us at Our Appalachia Day at Alice Lloyd College.

For some of Arthurs music  http://cdm272901.cdmhost.com/cdm/search/collection/p15131coll4/searchterm/Harlan%20County,%20Kentucky/field/all/mode/exact/conn/and/order/subjec
Arthur Johnson is a wonderful entertainer and great friend.

Doug Hutchens