I'm working on a post of music for and about the disenfranchised.
As a child, I was a yeoman farmer's daughter. I never went to bed hungry. Always had clean clothes in decent repair. My mother was proud of paying full-price school lunch for my sister and me. As Alan Jackson sang, "Where I come from, it's cornbread and chicken."
Mom and her siblings came up "by the hair of our heads," as she puts it. She did lie down to sleep with a growling belly many nights. She picked field beans to buy her two school outfits. Her baby sister bore the humiliation--with the studied panache that Lynda Lou can still muster--of stepping on the school bus and having a "rich girl" laugh because Lynda was wearing the girl's cast-offs.
Hit the post title for a teaser to my upcoming ambitious post. Choose cut #8 for Loretta Lynn's ode to her working-class roots. As a bonus, hear cut #14 for Loretta and Conway for a song I've tried to lure two readers to perform. In costume.
FYI, if my brother K ever comes west to visit, he WILL sing Conway's part (and has the side zip boots to wear) and challenge one of you gals to cue in with Loretta's assignment.
That's brother K in the bottom pic with mountain women (from left) Callie, Lillie and Fannie.
The top pic is of some woman in the Wilder mining camp happy that the Tennessee Valley Authority brung her town some water.
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