Category: Memory

Americana, Anger, Country Music, Doc Watson, Family, Memory, Music, Narrative, Old-time music, Songwriting, Story, Tragedy2 Comments

Tom Dooley

Gary Furr

Some years back Vickie and I vacationed near Boone, NC, home of Doc Watson. We stayed in a place with a view of Grandfather Mountain and traipsed around in the Smokies for a week. It was great. We ventured over to Wilkesboro, NC where the events remembered in the old murder ballad “Tom Dooley” happened. There are many versions of the story and many versions of the song, but here is a more traditional one I recorded a few years ago more in the style of Doc. Read a most interesting piece on the migration of lowland Scottish people to … Continue reading Tom Dooley

Americana, Children, Country Music, Death, Family, Folk, folk music, Gary Furr music, Grief, hope, Memory, Music, Songwriting, spirituality, Story, Theology, Theology and Life, Tragedy3 Comments

From Here to Okay

Gary Furr

This song speaks for itself. It came to me during the summer. The hook was a quote from a news story at a disaster scene, but my mind was on people I loved and knew who lost children. Their stories are the most courageous I have ever met. That they still have any faith at all after such losses is perhaps the closest to real miracles we ever see. It’s such a long, hard road. In my vocation I traipse alongside unimaginable losses, but children are the hardest from my perspective. It is the loss of love so intense, the … Continue reading From Here to Okay

America, Art, Culture, Dr. Gary Furr & Friends, fear, Folk, folk music, Forgiveness, Gary Furr music, history, Hope, humanity, Justice, Martin Luther King, Memory, Music, Politics, Politics, Race, spirituality, Story, Theology and Life, Tragedy, violence1 Comment

Remembering Martin Luther King

Gary Furr

Fifty years ago this week, Martin Luther King’s life was frozen in time for the whole world. His words keep living, his story keeps being told, and the events of his life are examined again and again.  It is not that time any more. The pain is more diffuse, spread into new struggles for equality and justice. It is worth marking the remarkable changes that have happened in that fifty years. We can go to any restaurant and drink from the same fountains. A lot of things are better, much better. But the pain he saw is still in the … Continue reading Remembering Martin Luther King

Art, Conflict, Disappointment, Hope, humanity, Love, Memory, Narrative, Poetry, Songwriting, Suffering, Theology, Writing1 Comment

Reality

Gary Furr

Someone asked me for this short paragraph from my sermon yesterday. I thought I might as well share it with you all, for what it’s worth. I was focused on the 23rd chapter of Jeremiah, which speaks of the challenges of leadership and the power of the Living God to help us.  I said, toward the end, these words: “There is always hope, but it never comes without cost or pain or struggle. There is always a future, but never at the expense of our past. There is always Presence, but it is not always comforting and pleasant. There is … Continue reading Reality

Animals, creation, Culture, Death, Faith, Family, Grief, Hope, Love, Memory, Pets, Selfishness, Theology, Theology and Life, Uncategorized4 Comments

In Memory of a Dhogg

Gary Furr

My kids are headed our way from NY for the holiday, but had the sadness of the death of their beloved dog, Mara. Mara had lived a good, long life, and like any family pet, had the run of the house. When our oldest granddaughter was born in Seattle five years ago, I was given the couch as my sleeping quarters, and she slept next to me on the floor, licking my hand regularly through the night, which, if not a regular experience, is a bit of a start for a sleeping person. Burglar or beloved, a licked hand is terrifying.

Mara D Dhogg, late of upstate New York.
Mara D Dhogg, late of upstate New York.

Eventually over those happy days we became friends and I would return the greeting in my sleep with a perfunctory half dozen strokes. These creatures who live with us accompany us in life, become part of the furniture of our homes. We miss them when they are gone.

It was time, as that time always comes, and Mara had no regrets. I reminded my daughter that marah could be taken as the Hebrew word for “bitter,” but Mara seemed remarkably sanguine toward the discomforts and outrageous fortunes of human beings and their ways. And she had it good–her own facebook page as Mara D Dhogg, the run of the house, better medical care than any except Continue reading “In Memory of a Dhogg”