I’m very sorry to hear that the greatest songwriter of all time has passed. I’ve got a story of my own about the Storyteller.
In 2001, my pursuit of the banjo became too strong to remain successful in grad school at Texas A&M University. One of my graduate board mentors, Dr. Jimmy Olson, encouraged me to consider pursuing music full-time. I found out that Alan Munde & Joe Carr were teaching bluegrass at South Plains College Creative Arts, so I withdrew from grad school and headed to the wonderful world of community college.
Only one problem…I had no money. I had a healthy fellowship at Texas A&M, but needed help to attend SPC. I applied for some scholarships and miraculously qualified for a couple that paid my entire tuition fees. One was the Texas Panhandle Bluegrass Association Scholarship and the other was the Tom T. Hall Bluegrass Scholarship.
Tom T. had been a friend of the Creative Arts program for many years. In fact, the performance hall/studio at SPC is called the Tom T. Hall studio. Though I’d never met Tom T., I grew up on Tom’s music while riding beside my dad in his Dodge Cummins 3/4 ton. At the end of my second year at SPC, I wrote Tom T. a letter of thanks and mailed it to the Tennessee address the school had on file.
I couldn’t believe it when the letter came. It was on blue paper and had “Tom T. Hall, The Storyteller” engraved at the top. Mr. Tom wrote that he looked forward to me moving to Nashville, for me to “break a leg”, and to look him up after I arrived in Music City. I did indeed make the move to Music City. I wanted to reach out to Mr. Tom, but to be honest I was too anxious to do so. He was one of my main heroes (and my dad’s) and I didn’t want to bother him.
After a couple years, I was touring with Taylor Swift when she hired a feisty new tour manager, Jason Hutcheson (best TM I ever worked with). Come to find out, Jason played bass for Tom T. for many years. I was thrilled to learn that and when I told Jason my SPC scholarship story, he offered to take me out to meet Mr. Tom. Are you kidding me?!
The first time I went out to Mr. Tom’s farm, I reminded him of his letter, his generosity with the scholarship, and how much he had enriched the life of my family with his stories. We sat in his yard and talked about his tomato crop. I felt like we were related somehow.
As I got up to leave, Mr. Tom invited me back and to write a song together. Even now, it doesn’t seem real to read those words. It was like being asked to go fly with Neal Armstrong or to hit the trail with Davy Crockett! Mr. Tom gave me his number and told me to call and set an appointment with Ms. Dixie, which I did for a couple weeks in the future.
I have never been so nervous as I was pulling into Tom T.'s farm with my guitar in tow. I had wracked my brain for ideas to write about but was scared that any I had were good enough.
We sat in his parlor and Ms. Dixie brought us something to drink. I went ahead and told Mr. Tom that I was nervous to write with him. He chuckled. Then he looked at me and said, “You know, songwriting is not that hard. All you have to do is tell a story that you already know. Just tell it from your heart. Like this one time I was down in Florida hanging in a lounge before flying out early the next day. An elderly black barkeep started talking to me about old dogs, children, and watermelon wine. On the plane the next morning I had a notepad in my pocket and I wrote that story down.”
I said, “Mr. Tom, I know that story! It happened just like the song?!” He said, “Yep, that’s how I write 'em. You have a story you want to tell?”
All my prepared song ideas flew out the window and I searched my memories for a story fitting to write with the Storyteller. I told him about a story I heard from my dad from when my grandad died suddenly from a massive heart attack. My dad was only 14. After the heart attack, my daddy had to put up the mules that Grandad had been plowing with. My dad remembered looking at the fresh plowed dirt and seeing Grandad’s barefoot prints from just a few hours before. I remember my daddy telling me, “My dad’s fresh footprints were there in that dirt, but he was dead in the house.” That’s quite a life-changing memory for a young teenager and I had never forgotten that story.
Mr. Tom loved that idea, and we wrote it! Ms. Dixie came in and helped on a few lines. The song is called “Grandpa’s Footprints”, written from the perspective of me being there that day.
“GRANPA’S FOOTPRINTS” by Ben Clark, Dixie Hall, & Tom T. Hall
July 22, 2009
VERSE 1
WHEN GRANDPA DIED HE LEFT THIS WORLD STILL FOLLOWING HIS PLOW
I WONDER WHY I’VE NEVER GIVE IT TOO MUCH THOUGHT TIL NOW
THEY WENT OUT AND BROUGHT HIM IN AND LAID HIM ON THE BED
DADDY SAID, SON, GET THEM MULES AND PUT THEM IN THE SHED
VERSE 2
I WENT OUT AND GOT THE MULES AND LED THEM TO THE SHADE
LOOKED DOWN AND SAW THE LAST FOOTPRINTS THAT GRANDPA EVER MADE
NOW LOOKING BACK I SEE THAT PICTURE CLEARLY IN MY MIND
AND GRANDPA’S FOOTPRINTS JUST KEEP GETTING BIGGER ALL THE TIME
CHORUS
NOW I’M MAKING FOOTPRINTS OF MY OWN
I WONDER HOW THEY’LL MEASURE UP TO OTHERS I HAVE KNOWN
THIS WORLD IS FULL OF FOOTPRINTS BUT NO MORE OF THAT KIND
GRANDPA’S FOOTPRINTS JUST KEEP GETTING BIGGER ALL THE TIME
VERSE 3
I REMEMBER STANDING THERE AND LOOKING AT THAT PRINT
THEY SAID HE’S GONE, I WAS A KID AND WONDERED WHERE HE WENT
THEY BURIED GRANDPA IN THE DIRT HE’D WORKED IN ALL THOSE YEARS
WITH PREACHING AND SOME SINGING, SOME LAUGHTER AND SOME TEARS
VERSE 4
GRANDPA WAS MY HERO AND THE NEIGHBORS THEY ALL KNEW
HE LOVED HIS LORD AND LAND AND LOVED THE OLD RED, WHITE AND BLUE
I CAN’T FILL HIS FOOTPRINTS BUT I’LL FOLLOW IN HIS WAYS
AND HOPE HE’D LIKE WHAT I’VE BECOME IF HE WERE HERE TODAY
REPEAT CHORUS
TAG
I WONDER WHAT HE’D THINK OF ME IN THIS HERE DAY AND TIME
GRANDPA’S FOOTPRINTS JUST KEEP LOOKING BIGGER ALL THE TIME
Rest in peace, Mr. Tom, with your sweet wife. What a difference you made in this world. I never told you, but my daddy just loved our song.
sad news.