In the next few days, most of us will be thinking about the events that took place in Blacksburg, Va., a year ago on April 16. This will be my second try at writing a column reflecting on that day. My first try evolved into something that was angry. I don’t want to be angry.
I didn’t know my brother knew the words to “Amazing Grace” until I watched him perform the song at Joe Hornsby’s funeral. Joe was one of my best friends. He was working at Mesta Machine in the Pittsburgh area at the time of his death. He was on his new Harley-Davidson Sportster motorcycle when the newly designed spokes on the front wheel collapsed and threw him into an oncoming vehicle. He wasn’t going fast. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. We were both in our early 20s at the time. I miss him every day.
During that time, my brother, Stu, and I sang together a lot, but we didn’t perform any gospel music. We performed old time music, country classics and folk tunes. We never sang together in church. My sister Peggy and I sang duets in church, but when we moved from our farm to town, I started attending other churches. Mostly, I went to the Christian Church that was up School Street past the old Claysville High School.
I can close my eyes and see my brother sweetly singing “Amazing Grace,” accompanying himself of his old Ovation guitar. He didn’t have his Gibson guitar then, but he rarely played the Ovation. Stu wasn’t wearing a suit. He didn’t have a suit. He dressed in the best clothes he had — a pair of gray, bell-bottom slacks with stripes and a vest. His voice was young, sweet and pure. He sang all the verses without a single nervous break in his voice. The setting was so sad, but the song somehow lifted me to another plane. I missed Joe so much — still do — but I wasn’t angry any more.
In the summer of 1990, a few weeks after my sister died, I drove over to Viola Clark’s house on Halifax Street. I knew Viola well, but had never been to her home before. I asked a lady I saw on North Mercer Street what was the best way to get to Halifax Street. She admonished me for asking her and told me she would tell me if I paid her. I was fortunate that a gentleman sitting with her recognized me and gave me directions. I was the local chairman of the MDA Telethon that year, and I wanted to ask Viola to join us to help made the transition from the old March of Dimes Telerama. Prior to that, it had been an uneasy transition.
Viola met me at the door and asked me to follow her to the sitting room. She said she had heard me sing and wanted to sing “Amazing Grace” with her. I asked her if she minded if I looked at a hymnal for verses two through four. The hymnal on her piano was already opened to the song. We sang together and the heavy spirit I had been carrying in my heart since Peggy’s death seemed to ease.
Karl Miller and I worked up a version of “Amazing Grace” and when I hear the introduction, my heart starts to flutter with anticipation and the song lifts me from whatever burdens I have at the moment and carries my soul to another place. I often feel that I could just sing it over and over again. Instead, I just listen to it over and over again.
The evening after the tragedy on the Virginia Tech campus last year, students gathered on the drill field and sang “Amazing Grace” together. Some months later, my heart was touched again when I heard the Marching Virginians play “Amazing Grace” at Narrows, Va. When I get personally confused by the events of that day or any day when the lives of innocent souls are taken before their time, I can’t find an explanation in the world of words and paper. When I look, I only find frustration.
But when I understand that the melody of “Amazing Grace” came from a tune slaves sang as they lay bound by chains in slave ships transporting them from Africa to the Americas. When I recall that John Newton penned the lyrics recalling how God spared him from death during a terrible storm at sea, and that if God’s grace could save someone as horrible as him, Newton believed that God’s grace must truly be amazing.
New anniversaries come along almost every year. Some are made of good memories and others are sad. “Amazing Grace” stands as both a celebration and memorial for me. Hearing it always gives me hope and helps me through the memories — good and bad.
Bill Archer is a senior editor for the Daily Telegraph. Contact him at barcher@bdtonline.com/
Columns
April 11, 2008
‘Amazing Grace’: Song provides hope during good times and bad
- Columns
-
- Repairing a leaky faucet not a good gift idea for Valentine’s Day
- Tattoos, Madonna, music and more
- Smart and dedicated local teens shine through the doom and gloom
- Loss of festival lamentable
- Super Bowl triumph and coalfield tragedy span 55 years of regional history
- A youthful enthusiasm for snow is abated by the cold reality of reporting
- Store closure comes as a shock to many loyal Kroger shoppers in Bluefield
- Unemployment rate drops to 8.3 percent; but economy still struggling
- Faith grows like a mustard seed when one puts trust in God
- Sports, Mitt’s money, more
- More Columns Headlines
