Muscle Shoals Page #2

and there were no songs.

They couldn't sing,

they couldn't dance.

They couldn't hold

their ceremonies.

And they got to be

very sad people.

So, she started

to come back home.

She walked all the way back.

It took her roughly five years.

She had to come back

to this river.

The river that sings.

The great dams have softened

the woman in the river's songs,

but if you go to very quiet

places and listen,

you can still hear her songs.

I know; I hear her songs

nearly every day.

When I was a young man, starting

out in the music business,

Billy Sherrill and I,

who were writing partners,

got a phone call from

a guy that wanted

to start a publishing

company with us,

and had the sum of $500

to spend on us,

which we thought was

a gold mine.

So, Tom Stafford

was a dream come true.

We went in business

and we had a little bitty studio

over Tom's father's drugstore.

We got a few cuts,

made a few bucks,

and one day, I was called in

to a meeting with Billy and Tom

and they advised me that

they were not happy

with the way things

were going and thought

that I was a little too much

of a workaholic.

And said that they wanted

to have fun

while they were having

hit records,

and that I was just too adamant

and too, uh,

strong-willed

and too pushy.

So, they decided to...

to let me go.

So, I obviously went home,

began to lick my wounds,

and was very bitter.

During this time,

I worked at a place called

Reynolds Metals Company

in Muscle Shoals, Alabama.

And I married my first wife,

Faye Marie, there.

She and I had been married

about 18 months

and we went to Hamilton

to see Benny Martin in concert.

It was about sundown,

and I met a car

who was traveling very fast.

I swerved to go around

that car.

I hit some loose gravels

on the side of the road

and went into a spin,

a tailspin.

The car turned end over end

a couple, three times,

and landed on its top.

I didn't know if she was out

or in, but couldn't find her

in the car, it was

total darkness.

I began to yell for her

and couldn't hear any noise,

except I could hear

gasoline running out

of the gas tank

into the car somewhere.

And I thought, of course,

it's gonna be my death

because the car's

gonna catch fire

and I can't get out.

I got out of the car

and searched around

in kudzu vines up to here.

Finally, some people stopped

with a flashlight

and we found her.

I nursed her on the way

to Hamilton Hospital.

About two o'clock

in the morning,

the doctor came to me and said,

"Your wife has passed on."

And, of course, I freaked out.

I became a drunk, a vagabond.

A tramp.

That changed my whole life.

It was hard times

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