The Wabash Cannonball

Grief is deep stuff.

I visited our eldest church member today in his assisted living apartment. When I go to see him he treats me like my Grandma Riggins used to: as a living show and tell item. In the nicest possible way. I must be introduced to everyone. I must be praised to the highest heavens to everyone.

Wait. Why does this bother me?

As we walked down the hall we came across a church group rehearsing their musical program. He drove his walker right into the midst of them and raised a hand until they stopped. "Do you know my pastor?" he asked. They were gracious. Then we went to his apartment and talked about fish. He had a long and distinguished career as a maritime biologist. I find his stories fascinating. But time passed and I had to leave. As I opened his door in came the sound of that church group singing The Wabash Cannonball. Tears sprang into my eyes.

My father sang that song to me when I was a little boy. I remember my father's voice. He loved to sing and he sang well. He had a wide repertoire, from hymns to old jazz standards to Roger Williams to his clear favorite, Spike Jones' immortal version of the William Tell Overture and its main character: the horse, Feetlebomb.

The Wabash Cannonball is about a train speeding through the countryside. For me, it has become a song about my father and my Hoosier heritage. I still observe a tradition he initiated, singing Back Home Again in Indiana every time I cross the state line back into the Promised Land, where the Wabash River flows. Thanks, dad, for singing to me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0QXyYK1FAU