She grew up next to the river with her tribe. She played in it with her brothers, bathed in it with her Mother, hunted alongside it with her Father. The river sang to her from the early morning and through the night. When she was just a teenager the white man took her away. Took her and her family far far away to a distant land. Between the tears and through the years she would listen to lots of rivers but none of them sang. She searched the mountains and valleys, listened to big rivers and little rivers, but none of them sang.
One day her loneliness for the river became to much to
bear, so she began to walk home to the river of her childhood. It took
her five years to cover the distance between Oklahoma and Alabama. Then
she listened as the river sang to her once again.
-I listened to Rick Hall famous producer of the Muscle Shoal sound tell this story about his Grandmother. It etched a notch on my soul.
Lord God lead my feet back to the river that sings.