If Trouble Don’t Kill Me: A Family’s Story of Brotherhood, War and Bluegrass by Ralph Berrier, Jr. (782.421642 BER Main)
Reviewed by Jeanne
"Oh, a book about a band." That was the reaction I had when I offered this book to a co-worker. At first glance, this book looks to be yet another tale of obscure bluegrass musicians. There have been a number of them lately as bluegrass becomes more widely known and accepted. Most are run of the mill, sincerely written books, even those about well-known musicians. They tend to be very earnest books which paint the past in sentimental, homespun terms in which times were hard but folks were all good, honest and hardworking.
This is not one of those books.
This is no rags to riches story, no angels with dirty faces tale. Twins Clayton and Saford Hall were two of ten children born to a never-wed mother; they never knew who their father was. Mamo never seemed to have much use for a man, though obviously she had had a certain number of dealings with them. They grew up in a holler, where people eked out a living with subsistence farming. Sometimes the younger children were chastised by older brothers not for playing hooky but for going to school when hands were needed in the field. It was a hard life, sometimes made harder by Saford’s penchant for mischief—or worse. Even as children, people tended to refer to the two as “Clayton and Satan.” This was a rough and tumble clan, and Berrier tells their story with humor, respect and a wonderful way with words that make one want to read sections aloud to other people. For example, he writes about Mamo:
“Mamo played banjo, too. She could do it all! Except find a suitable husband, perhaps.“ He goes on to note, “Banjos were better than husbands. True, both laid around the cabin all day, but a banjo never wore long legged britches that needed ironing. Plus, if you never liked what you heard from a banjo, a twist of a peg here, a tweak there, and you could make it say whatever you wanted.”
The “Big Bang of Country Music,” when Ralph Peer came to Bristol and made the recordings that changed popular music, had a ripple effect throughout the hills. Hillbilly music was suddenly all the rage and musicians from East Tennessee, West Virginia, Kentucky and the surrounding area were taking center stage. Clayton and Saford Hall were among this group. Not only were they fine musicians and singers, but they had stage presence and an assortment of comedy routines. They opened for the Carter Family and the Sons of the Pioneers, they played the Grand Ole Opry, their songs were played on the radio—in short, the twins were well on their way into another world of rough-living and colorful characters but with a few more bright lights along the way.
December 7, 1941 changed all that. The boys were drafted and sent overseas.
What follows next is an account of the boys’ experiences in service, though Berrier says there are some incidents which can’t be verified: “Separating truth from myth is messy work. Tall tales and lies come as easy to country boys as howling does to a beagle.” The stories for the most part have the ring of truth: country boys suddenly shoehorned into unfamiliar circumstances, with strange rules and regulations, trying to understand foreign ways—and not just those of other nations.
If you have any interest in Appalachian culture, I highly recommend this book. Berrier has done a wonderful job of opening a door on the past and letting the readers experience a time, a place and a family. The writing is honest, peppered with quotable descriptions and phrases (Granny Hall is “as old as a Confederate veteran and no bigger than a bobwhite”) but it never becomes cutesy or overdone, and avoids the “faux hillbilly” cornpone trap. I laughed out loud several times, because some of the retelling reminded me of stories I’d heard told by older relatives. Some incidents are fairly grim; some are laugh or cry. People drink, cheat, love and sacrifice—in short, they’re very human. I appreciate too that Berrier makes it clear that the stories are family stories, subject to embellishment or the whims of memory.
Like the recent autobiography of Ralph Stanley (Man of Constant Sorrow: My Life and Times by Ralph Stanley with Eddie Dean, 781.642 STA), this is a book that deserves a wide and devoted readership.
(To read the review of the Ralph Stanley biography, click here.)
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