RIP George A.

[RustyGoKart]

GEORGE A. JOHNSON - It's A Wonderful Life (May 26, 1920 - October 24, 2011)
by Patterson Hood on Wednesday, October 26, 2011 at 11:31am

GEORGE A. JOHNSON - It's A Wonderful Life (May 26, 1920 - October 24, 2011)

My beloved Great Uncle passed away yesterday. He was actually more like a second father to me. As a child, I spent every single weekend of my life with him on his farm from before I was two until I was a teenager and became too busy trying to chase girls to want to be out at the farm riding go-karts anymore. I'm sure he was sad when that happened, but he never made me feel bad about it as he knew that it was the way of the world and how it was supposed to be.

When George A. was born, President Wilson was in the White House. He lived to see 17 Presidents. Imagine someone who was alive for George Washington living to see the Lincoln assassination. When he was a little boy, they rode into town on horseback and he lived to see a man on the moon. He lived through the Great Depression and survived Iwo Jima in World War II. He was born a white man in the deep segregated Jim Crow South and lived to cast his vote for Barak Obama in the 2008 election at the age of 88. I felt like he was as proud of that as I was.

After WWII, George A. took a job delivering trucks for International Harvester in Springfield, Ohio but his family ties were so strong that he commuted home every weekend to McGee Town Alabama to help out his parents on the homestead farm. He was born in the front room of the old three-room house, along with my Grandmother and their other brother. (Two other siblings were lost in the influenza epidemic of 1918). The farm was deeded to The Johnson Family when Alabama became a state and his ties to it were unimaginably strong. His mother passed away in December 1963 (watching As The World Turns at my Grandmother's kitchen table) and I was born three months later and George A. and I were inseparable from day one.



Every friday afternoon he would ride the bus home from wherever his last delivery was (he delivered new trucks to the dealers) and I would ride out to the farm with him and stay there all weekend. We'd stay up late and watch movies on TV and I'd spend all day playing on the farm which looked more like a park. Sometimes he'd take me to movies in town and when I was a little boy I would sit in his lap while he bush-hogged the farmland. Later when I became of go-kart age, he would cut paths in the field resembling a city grid with on ramps and off ramps for my cousin Tommy and I to play chase through. We did play Bullitt, just like the song says. Later we would stay up and watch Saturday Night Live and on sunday, he would take me back home to my parent's house and then ride all night on a Greyhound Bus, back to Cincinnati then hop a ride up to Springfield to repeat the process again.

George A. never married. He was very handsome, Gary Cooper handsome, and women always seemed to really like him but he was painfully shy and always on the move. I think at times he wished that he had, but he never really talked about that kind of thing much. I do know that he always considered me to be the son he never had and as I said, he was a second father to me. (I really hit the jackpot on the Dad thing, as my real Dad is such a great man and I also had an amazing Grandfather in my life).

George A. was very tall, over 6 foot 5, in an era when not many men were six feet tall. He was thin and kind of lanky, but very athletic and strong. He had beautiful blue eyes that I still see when I look into my own children's eyes. They seem to be inheriting his sweetness also and I am very thankful for that. As shy as he was, he always opened up around children. Always had and did all the way until the very end. He was one of those 'kid magnets' you hear about, in the best of ways. My little boy isn't old enough to remember him, but my daughter Ava bonded with him very strongly and absolutely loved him, as did my sister's kids. He would absolutely light up when kids were around and he and I had an uncanny communication that defied his reputation for shyness. He was funny and smart and full of great stories about the old days and his beloved old horse Old Robinson, who took on superhero greatness in GA's stories as he grew older.

One time, George A. was riding Old Robinson back from town down by the old Forks of Cypress plantation place and Ghost Bridge. I'm assuming George A . was a teenager, which would have made it around 1935 perhaps. In those days, the old bridge was already decrepit and creepy with one lane across the old Cypress Creek crossing below the big columned house on the hill. The supports and guardrails were already rusty and the planks lay across the support beams in parallel rows with gaps between them that you could see through to the swollen creek running below. He and Old Robinson were perhaps running a little fast and the horse's legs fell through two of the gaps. He was stuck, down to his belly on the bridge with his legs and hooves dangling below him. George A. jumped off and ran the whole rest of the way to their farm to get help, some big strong Johnson men and their horses, to hoist the poor animal off his precarious position. GA was just hoping that he wouldn't be too late to save his beloved partner.

When George A. and the men and the animal help returned, about four miles, which is a long sprint by foot, Old Robinson was standing next to the bridge, patiently waiting on them to return. He was banged up and bleeding, but was otherwise unscathed and soon was as good as new. I remember George A. telling me that story a time or two as a child, but as he reached 90 or so, it became a story that he would tell me every time that I saw him. Usually he'd ask me if I remembered Old Robinson. I would smile and say that I thought Old Robinson was probably a little before my time but that I felt like I knew him. Then he'd tell me the story again.

The farm was the final destination for all of the old cars from our family that the original owners had updated from. George A. worked very hard and had no children of his own, so he was exceptionally generous with his money when it came to his family. He was known to slide a family member a down payment on a new car (or sometimes buy it right out) and take their old car. The farm was home to a white 59 Ford (like a sedan version of the classic Perry Mason car), an old black Studebaker with the machine gun styled emergency brake and front grill. (Maybe one of the coolest cars ever built). An old Nash that he would hide chewing gum and candsy in for the kids to find when they came out to see him; a 1964 Chevy Impala that he had just bought for his mother when she passed and he subsequently gave to my Grandfather who put a couple of hundred thousand miles on it commuting to and from Brown's Ferry Nuclear Power Plant and a 1971 Dodge sedan. There was also a 52 Chevy parked and rusting on the main hill where once his brother saw a copperhead sunning itself on the front seat. When I was born, I was brought home from the hospital in the 64 Impala (just like the one later made famous by Dr. Dre, but without the bouncy suspension) and at about 12, I learned to drive on the three on a tree column in the Studebaker. Once I outgrew my go-kart, I could be seen driving that 59 Ford around the farm (and perhaps a little on the county roads around the farm, but don't tell Mom and Dad).

When Mike Cooley and I started Adam's House Cat, George A. "loaned" us some money to buy a little PA system to practice and play shows with. (The concept of clubs having sound was a foreign concept in my town back then). He never liked Rock and Roll music and never once came to see me play, but he knew that it was all somehow very important to me and he was always beyond supportive. Mike loved him too. Everyone that met him always did. What a sweet wonderful man he was and you always had a good feeling anytime you were around him. I never saw him angry or upset. When tragedy struck, he was always calm and stoic and a quiet beacon of strength. When my Grandmother passed away he was obviously heartbroken, but as strong as ever. She was probably the person on Earth that he was the closest to. His older brother had passed a few years earlier and the three Johnson siblings were a force of nature.

Years later, I wrote a song about George A. called The Sands of Iwo Jima. I attempted to capture a little of the essence of this great man in word and felt like I had at least scratched the surface a little. I was very proud of the song and took my acoustic guitar out to see him and sang it to him. Don't really know if it was his cup of tea, but I think he appreciated the sentiment. His response was "This isn't going to cause people to start coming out to the farm to interview me and put TV cameras in my face, is it?"

I assured him that no such thing would ever happen and that was that.

A few years later, filmmaker Barr Weissman decided to make a movie about Drive-By Truckers and from which we came, and he trekked out to GA's farm and did exactly that. He spent half a day out at the farm while GA graciously showed him the sink hole and the two barns and probably told him about Old Robinson and then he built a fire in the old iron Big Boy Stove in the front room where he was born and we sat there while tiny Ava Ruth slept in his still strong arms. It is one of my most prized memories and was the beginning of their beautiful relationship.

It was an amazing and wonderful life and he lived it his own way with dignity and grace. He was a sober man. I never saw him take a single drink in my entire life, yet never felt like he was judging me. One time we parked our cars out at the farm when the band was taking off for a long cross country tour and he cleaned my car for me while I was gone. Lord knows what he might have found, but it was never acknowledged. I think he knew that I was a fairly responsible adult and would be alright. I think he was proud of the fact that I persevered and did this thing that I had set my sights on when I was a little child playing air guitar in that front room to the stereo he bought me.

He was 88 before he had to leave the farm and move in with my Mom, and not long after that we had to "fix" his Cadillac so that it wouldn't start anymore because he was getting a little confused and we were worried about his driving. At 90, his only daily meds were the two blood thinner pills he took everyday for his last decade or so, and he managed to only have to live in a nursing home for the last two months of his life. There was a minimum of suffering and even though he was in mid stages of Alzheimer's, he still knew who he was and had a fairly decent notion of who those of us around him were. This certainly wouldn't have been the case for much longer and as much as I am sad and miss him, I am grateful for that.

Tom Brokaw wrote his best selling book about "The Greatest Generation" and even then they were fading fast. I recently lost my beloved Great Aunt Blanche a couple of months ago. She was George A.'s sister in law and very much the matriarch of my extended family. She had lost her husband nearly two decades ago and my Grandmother, "Sissy" passed away back in 2002 while I was playing in New Orleans. Our links to their time in our world are passing before us as our rapidly changing world forges on into tomorrow.

Now George A. is gone too. Gone, at least in the mortal flesh realm. He's still very much alive in me and in the millions of things he influenced in our family's lives. He's still very much alive in my darling children's eyes and in how they possess his sweetness of way. He's still alive walking around the homestead, picking up limbs and chainsawing the stump and bush-hogging the floorboarding field and in the warmth in my heart when I think of him. As the sun sets, facing the front of the old falling-in house, no longer shadowed by my favorite old oak tree, he's still standing there on the front porch as I drive off, watching my taillights disappear into the dusk. And waving goodbye.

Patterson Hood - October 25th 2011 (Back Lounge, Minneapolis MN, 1st and 7th)

[Mr. B]

What a terrific tribute that only someone who clearly dearly loved George A. could write. A beautiful reminder of how greatness as a person should be measured. I can guarantee tears if we hear The Sands of Iwo Jima in Omaha tonight.

[ramonz]

Simply beautiful.

[drtpants]

Heartfelt sorrow for yours and your family's loss, Patterson.

That said,as a fan I can't help but take this opportunity to thank you for constantly letting us into the history and lore behind your art. For most artists, all we have is the art itself without supporting detail. That's o.k. of course and a little bit of mystery isn't a bad thing but I've always appreciated your constant willingness to provide commentary and context. Because of that, I feel a sense of loss today, though of course I only knew George A through Barr's film and your music. That's a testament to you, your family and your band and goes a long way toward explaining the uniqueness of the larger community that surrounds DBT.

Sending out healing and celebratory energy to you and your loved ones. Rest in peace, George A.

[Clams]

Now George A. is gone too. Gone, at least in the mortal flesh realm. He's still very much alive in me and in the millions of things he influenced in our family's lives. He's still very much alive in my darling children's eyes and in how they possess his sweetness of way. He's still alive walking around the homestead, picking up limbs and chainsawing the stump and bush-hogging the floorboarding field and in the warmth in my heart when I think of him. As the sun sets, facing the front of the old falling-in house, no longer shadowed by my favorite old oak tree, he's still standing there on the front porch as I drive off, watching my taillights disappear into the dusk. And waving goodbye.

Jeez. Will someone please pass me the kleenex?

Having loved Sands of Iwo Jima for so long, and having read Patterson's beautiful obit, I feel like I knew the man. Inevitable I suppose, but still very sad.

[beantownbubba]

Like.

My condolences to Patterson & family.

[Slipkid42]

That is a beautiful piece of literature. George A. was obviously very dear to Patterson's heart. My condolences go out to him & his family on the loss of their wonderful uncle.'The Greatest Generation' is dying off. Us baby boomers will have to lead by example now. In many cases we are falling short of those who came before us. We seem to have a greater sense of entitlement than our fathers & grandfathers did. This world is what we make it; & unless we work just as hard as our predecessors did, then what was once beautiful will eventually rot away.

It sounds like George A.'s little corner of this world was pretty damn special. Patterson's eulogy has served as a reminder to me, that it is within my power to make my little corner of the world pretty special too. If we all keep paying it forward, then maybe our children (and their children).will have a special place to live after we are gone.

[Crustyharp]

They never leave us; every day, there's something we say or do that makes us realize they're still right there alongside of us.

Here's to George A. and all the others who cleared the path ahead and gave each of us a direction to attempt to head in.

[GuitarManUpstairs]

I am so sorry to hear this. Is it strange that i feel like I've lost one of my own? (I even welled up alittle reading this. ) In any case, members of that "Greatest Generation" are fading. And for all of us lucky enough to have some of them still physically in our lives, be thankful and make the most of the remaining days you have with them. Best wishes for Patterson and all of George A's family who will miss him dearly.

[one belt loop]

That was a beautiful tribute and, yes, pass the kleenex.

I have always said that "The Sands of Iwo Jima" is one of my favorite love songs.

My condolences.

[Tequila Cowboy]

Genuine tears in my eyes as I read this, for a man I only know through Patterson's wonderful words. It's a testament to those that I'm both sad and feeling celebratory over a marvelous life today.

RIP George A.

[Smitty]

Damn, I echo what everybody has said on here...
The scene from "TSTAHE" with him holding Ava and Patterson talking about what a blessing it is.... you just watch that and know that this band comes from good people.
Real tears. I feel for Patterson and the rest of the family; but I think it's safe to say (from what I just read) he lived a very successful life. Godspeed.

[UTHeathen]

Condolences to Patterson and his family. Thank you Patterson for introducing us all to George A. Even though none of us knew him personally, we feel like did, and see our own family history reflected in his kind, humble eyes.

[Jonicont]

Condolences Patterson

[Penny Lane]

That said,as a fan I can't help but take this opportunity to thank you for constantly letting us into the history and lore behind your art. For most artists, all we have is the art itself without supporting detail. That's o.k. of course and a little bit of mystery isn't a bad thing but I've always appreciated your constant willingness to provide commentary and context. Because of that, I feel a sense of loss today, though of course I only knew George A through Barr's film and your music. That's a testament to you, your family and your band and goes a long way toward explaining the uniqueness of the larger community that surrounds DBT.

So true.

This was beautiful and brought a tear to my eye.

[Flying Rabbit]

An incredible obituary. RIP.

[Maluca3]

What a beautiful tribute. Many condolences to Patterson and all who knew and loved George A.

[Iowan]

My brother was at the Minneapolis show last night, and said that Patterson was just consumed with a drive to rock for George A. It was apparently an extremely emotional show and he felt honored to be a part of it.

[RevMatt]

Sorry for your loss but grateful that you shared with the fans the lives of so many people who were important to you, especially George A.

[Mrs Swamp]

I am so sorry to hear the new`s of your beloved uncle George A.
That is such a beautiful tribute Patterson and I know that he will
be missed dearly by so many folk`s. I thank you for letting all of us
know him through your music and your stories. He was an amazing man
and his legacy live`s on through you and your family. Just know that you
may not see him but he will always be with you.
Many condolences from us Swamps.


Now I must go empty this bucket of tears

[wineisgood]

A few years ago when I first starting getting into the music of Drive-By Truckers I was so moved by "Sands of Iwo Jima" I began making more frequent visits to my own grandfather who by that time was bedridden in a nursing home with Parkinson's disease. Like George A he was a hero of WWII (he lost an eye at Peleliu) and had a great sense of calm, and a sly sense of humor. He once sold a horse named Duke to a fellow who lived about 12 miles away. Duke famously broke the gate and ran back home to grandpa. When the buyer showed up the next day to claim him grandpa calmly handed him back his money and said "I guess he'll keep me."
It's impossible to replace the hole in our lives that great family men leave when they pass. Look back with gratitude, not everybody is as lucky as us.

[colodogdoc]

My first introduction to the Drive-By Truckers was when a friend sent us a copy of TDS with the note "check this out". The first song that I remember being really bowled over by was The Sands of Iwo Jima. After getting over the initial shock of Patterson's falsetto I was deeply moved by the lyrics that described a man so good he basically put himself and his needs second to those of his family and his country. The first time I saw TSTAHE I was moved to tears at the sweetness of the scene of George A rocking Ava Ruth to sleep. Patterson's tribute is beyond beautiful and once again I am crying thinking of George A. Truly, he lived a wonderful life.

Someone on Facebook commented that they believed that Old Robinson was waiting for him on the other side; I like that thought. RIP, George A.

[Sterling Big Mouth]

I'm sad to hear about George A. It's comforting, however, that when it came his time to go, he did go about in a good way. Peacefully and with dignity.

Everyone has touched on this, but DBT some how manages to make all of us feel like one extended family. While that exposes us to a lot more good times than we'd have without them, it also brings stuff like this. I hope it comforts the Hood family and everyone who was close with George A. that they have friends and "family" they don't even know who recognize their loss (if only minimally) and wish them the best.

Patterson, you did a beautiful job with that obituary. It's a wonderful tribute.

['Scratch]

I never met the man, but that hasn't stopped him and Patterson's song from being an influence on me. Godspeed George. And thanks.

[Smarty Jones]

Someone on Facebook commented that they believed that Old Robinson was waiting for him on the other side; I like that thought. RIP, George A.

^^ I like that, too. I'm very glad Patterson shared the Old Robinson story with all of us.

Such a beautiful and moving tribute to a truly great man. His legacy will live on for his family a long, long time.

[Steve French]

He sounds like an interesting, wonderful man. I'd loved to have talked to him. RIP.

[inman_trucker]

My most sincere condolences to Patterson and the rest of the family, and a special thanks to Patterson for such a heartfelt and insightful obituary. I can only hope that I inspire someone enough to pen something so eloquent about me when I pass.

[lynne]

Sincere condolencesto Patterson and family. Sands of Iwo Jima is a very moving song and the obit Patterson wrote is exceptionally moving. George A. was such an important person in Patterson's life and I truly appreciate this special relationship being shared with us through song.

[thedudeabides]

RIP George A. I feel like I lost one of my own. A beautiful tribute to a beautiful man. Patterson, you brought me to tears.

[Gang Green]

I'm just glad we got to meet him in "Secret to a Happy Ending."