John Prine: Poet from Paradise

This blog dedicated to literacy education and teaching may seem like a strange place to be discussing the contributions of a singer-songwriter like John Prine. But Prine, who died on April 7 of Corvid 19 complications, was a true American poet in the grand tradition of Walt Whitman, Mark Twain, and Carl Sandburg. No less an eminence than Bob Dylan recognized him for his "pure Proustian existentialism." Whatever, the man could write a song lyric like few others could and those lyrics deserve both celebration and study for their wit, beauty, and keen insight into the human condition..

The first song of John's that I was aware of was "Sam Stone" from his first album on Atlantic in 1971. This was an anti-war song, but as was typical of much of John's work, his observations were rooted in the personal.

Sam Stone came home,
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knee.

But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.

There's a hole in Daddy's arm where all the money goes,
And Jesus Christ died for nothin', I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years, 
Sweet songs only last so long on broken radios.

Also on that album was a song that has become a touchstone for the environmental movement. The song, Paradise, told the story of John's family's hometown of Paradise, KY, a mining town.

And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay?
Well, I'm sorry my son, but your too late in asking
Mister Peabody's coal train has hauled it away.

The coal company came with the world's largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land.
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken.
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man., 

Themes of loneliness often showed up in John's work. One of his most famous songs, "Hello in There", spoke to the loneliness of the aging.

So, if your walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Oh, please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello.

Or the loneliness of two isolated people living out a sad and loveless existence, dreaming of something better.

Hot love, cold love, no love at all.
A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. Nothing is wrong, nothing is right.
Donald and Lydia made love that night.

They made love in the mountains, they made love in the streams, 
They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams.
But when they were finished there was nothing to say,
Cause mostly they made love from ten miles away.

But dreaming just comes natural
Loke the first breath from a baby,
Like sunshine feeding daisies,
Like the love hidden deep in your heart.

John could be whimsical and very funny as well. On his much praised "comeback" album from 1991, The Missing Years, he had one song called "Jesus, the Missing Years" where he speculated wittily about the years in Jesus' life we know nothing about and another song, "It's a Big, Old Goofy World", where he seemed to weave together every cliche' known to man to humorous effect.

Up in the morning, work like a dog
It's better than sittin' like a bump on a log.
Mind your manners, be quiet as a mouse,
Someday you'll own a home that's as big as a house.
I know a fella, eats like a horse
Knocks his old balls around the old golf course.
You oughta see his wife, she's a cute little dish
She smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish.

There's a big ole goofy man
Dancin' with a big, old goofy girl
Oooh, baby, it's a big ole goofy world.

Finally, there is my personal favorite. Whenever John performed it live he dedicated it to his friend and frequent collaborator, Steve Goodman, who died of leukemia in 1984. The song is called "Souvenirs." Here it is performed by John accompanied by Steve from the PBS show Austin City Limits..

While I was writing this entry, I received this message from John's wife, which was sent out to subscribers to his website. Donate to one of his favorite charities, if you can.

From Fiona Whelan Prine...

Our beloved John died yesterday evening at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville TN. We have no words to describe the grief our family is experiencing at this time. John was the love of my life and adored by our sons Jody, Jack and Tommy, daughter in law Fanny, and by our grandchildren.

John contracted Covid-19  and in spite of the incredible skill and care of his medical team at Vanderbilt he could not overcome the damage this virus inflicted on his body.

I sat with John - who was deeply sedated- in the hours before he passed and will be forever grateful for that opportunity.

My dearest wish is that people of all ages take this virus seriously and follow guidelines set by the CDC. We send our condolences and love to the thousands of other American families who are grieving the loss of loved ones at this time - and to so many other families across the world.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the outpouring of love we have received from family, friends, and fans all over the world. John will be so missed but he will continue to comfort us with his words and music and the gifts of kindness, humor and love he left for all of us to share.

In lieu of flowers or gifts at this time we would ask that a donation be made to one of the following non profits:

thistlefarms.org
roomintheinn.org
nashvillerescuemission.org

Fluency Practice: Poems for Repeated Reading

Over the years, I have written quite often about fluency instruction in reading. Fluency, the smooth, rapid processing of print when reading, is central to skilled reading. It is often what keeps young readers from advancing in their reading and it is often noticeably missing from many struggling readers efforts. Here are some of the posts I have written about fluency instruction in the past.

Fluency Instruction: Building Bridges

When Readers Struggle: Fluency

The Power of Rereading

That Thing You Do: When Readers Plateau, Try Pushing Fluency

I have always used poetry to support young and struggling readers developing fluency. With April being Poetry Month it seems to be a good time to revisit these strategies, which can be readily adapted for online or at home work. The lesson structure is as follows:

            Pre-reading Activities: Before reading the poem, activate background knowledge and interest through discussion. Using the title, illustration or an appropriate question as a stimulus, have the children make predictions about what they will read in the poem. Some possible discussion starters are included on the Teacher’s Guide page for each poem. These pre-reading discussions will help the children anticipate what they will read and aid in comprehension.

            Teacher Modeling: Read the poem aloud to the class at least once. Emphasize meaning. Read expressively. As you read, point to the words on the chart or screen in a smooth, left to right motion. Children need to hear the poem read fluently and expressively so that they can learn what fluent reading sounds like.

            Comprehension Instruction: After listening to your oral reading of the poem, have the children check their original predictions about the poem’s content. In a guided discussion help students to retell what happened in the poem. Discuss difficult vocabulary and figurative language. Comprehension discussion guide ideas can be found in the Teacher’s Guide accompanying each poem. An understanding of the meaning of the poem will support students in developing their reading fluency.

            Echo Reading: Read aloud one line of the poem and have the children echo back what has been read. Read the next line, have the children echo again and so on throughout the poem. Be sure to point to each line and keep students focusing on the text. Some students may not look at the text during echo reading, relying instead on listening memory. Guide them to keep their eyes on the words as they echo.

            Pattern Discussion: Ask students if they have noticed any rhyming words in the poems. List the words they call out on a white board or chart paper. Ask if they notice any spelling patterns that they can make generalizations about. Have students generate other words that fit the spelling pattern(s). Discuss these patterns and point out to students how they can use this knowledge to help decode new and unfamiliar words they may encounter in reading.

            Choral Reading: Lead a re-reading of the poem. Invite all students to join in the re-reading. Weaker readers can rely on classmates to help them over the difficult passages or may choose to be silent or listen. Again, remember to point to the words as you and the children read them together.

Choral and echo reading may be repeated several times until you the teacher feels that most students will be able to combine memory, sight vocabulary and decoding strategies to read the poem independently. After a few choral readings, the teacher can stop reading and have the children read chorally without the teacher’s guiding voice.

Vary choral reading as the poem warrants. Have different small groups of students alternate verses or lines or have students take the parts of speaking characters in the poem. Have pairs of students read parts of the poem or have the boys read one time and the girls another. Variety in choral reading will help keep interest and attention high.

            Paired Reading: Children are each given a copy of the poem and are asked to choose a partner. Alternatively, the teacher may assign partners. Have children find a comfortable place to read and then take turns reading the poem to each other. The listening partner is asked to play the role of helper, listening and following along closely to provide help if the reader needs it. Partners are encouraged to keep reading to each other until each can read the poem fluently.

            Teacher Conference: When children feel they have mastered the poem, they request a teacher conference. During the conference, the child reads the passage aloud, while the teacher keeps a record of general fluency, miscues and decoding strategies employed. The teacher provides specific feedback to the student on their fluency and use of strategies.

Here are two poems to help you get started from my book Snack Attack and other poems for developing fluency in young readers, Infinity Press, 2010.

Snack Attack

My mind has slipped off teacher’s track,
Because it’s nearly time for our snack.
Mine is waiting in my backpack,
In the coatroom, high up on the rack.

I try to remain cool and laid back,
But I’m hungry as a lumberjack.
Just can’t wait to look inside my sack.
I’m hoping for cookies, perhaps a whole stack.

Teacher says, “Now it’s time for your snack.”
And I hear my lips give a quick, “Smack!”
Can’t wait to tear into a pack
Of Cheese Doodles or Crackerjack.

Now the coatroom is under attack,
But woe is me and alas and alack!
Guess whose mom has forgotten to pack
Even one raisin to eat for a snack.    

Bad Bartholomew Blue

Come hear the tale of Bartholomew Blue
The meanest hombre the world ever knew.
A cutthroat, a villain, a bad buckaroo,
That nasty outlaw Bartholomew Blue.

Bart, his nickname, he had quite a few,
Roamed the old west with his dastardly crew.
Stealing gold and jewelry from good men and true,
And causing a general hullabaloo.

Bart robbed a bank on Sagebrush Avenue,
Hopped on his horse and away they both flew.
Made his escape without leaving a clue
And hit out nine days in a swampy bayou.

Bart’s the ugliest guy to come in my view.
His face was all pimply and covered with goo; 
He’d a scar on his face in the shape of a shoe;
When his ear was cut off, he repaired it with glue.


Bart had one weakness – rattlesnake barbecue.
It tastes like old socks and is sure tough to chew.
He’d eat huge helping with mooseberry stew
And wash it all down with some foul-smelling brew.

One day a posse was quick to pursue,
And followed that villain Bartholomew Blue.
They were right on his heels, would have captured him, too,
But they all lost their way in a thick foggy dew.

Then came the sad end of Bartholomew Blue,
He and his horse both came down with the flu.
By the end of the week, Bart and horse were both through,
They say he’s in heaven, I doubt that that’s true                                     
                                                                                                                                                               

Hula Dancing, Singing and a Teacher's Impact

Recently, I had a former student reach out to me on Facebook Messenger. Back in the early 1980s, all middle school students were required to take a developmental reading course. This former student had been wracking his brain to come up with the title of a book he had read in my class 40 years ago.  He described the basic plot, mentioned that it contained some “bad language” and I recalled a book entitled. Headman, by Kin Platt that was on my choice bookshelf back in those days. That was the one, he said. 


This incident reminded me of the influence we have as teachers in ways that we may not even know or realize. I had not heard from this student in nearly 40 years and yet this book had resonated with him in a memorable way. I gave him a socially distanced fist bump and smiled a little to myself.


Over the years I have great memories of teachers who have influenced me. There was Mrs. Stout, in sixth grade, who taught me to believe in myself. There were Mr. Laidacker, Mr. Kautz, Mr. Turner and Mr. DiSangro, who fostered my love of history, which caused me to be a history major as an undergraduate.. The was Mr. Blough, the passionate music appreciation teacher, who fostered an eclectic love of music from Bach to Benny Goodman to Burl Ives. There was Mr. McHale who taught me how to be a professional on the stage and in life. Later on there were Susan Mandel Glazer, Susan Lytle, and M. Jerry Weiss who taught me what literacy education was all about.


Of course, that influence can be a two-way street. Sometimes the actions of a teacher can have a negative effect that also lasts a lifetime. When I was in third grade, I had the good fortune to have Miss. Miyamoto (in 1955 it was almost always Miss). Miss Miyamoto was kind and gentle and always smiling. She was the first Japanese American person I had ever seen and my eight year-old self was in love with her.. She was from Hawaii and she taught us how to do the Hula and how to make the traditional Hawaiian dish, poi. 


Miss Miyamoto was teaching under difficult conditions. Because of baby boomer inspired overcrowding in schools, our “classroom”, was one third of a converted cafeteria, where classrooms were separated by moveable barriers rather than walls. I became adept at shooting crayons over the walls with a makeshift catapult I fashioned from a ruler. When I was finally caught doing this, by the rather stern teacher next door, Miss Keller, I got a severe reprimand and saw Miss Miyamoto’s smile disappear for the first time ever. I think I was more upset at disappointing her than I was at losing recess for a week as punishment.


Anyway, Miss Keller and I had gotten off on the wrong foot. This came back to haunt me, because Miss Keller was the leader of the third grade chorus. Even in those days I had nascent dreams of performing on the stage (I had been featured as the Scarecrow in a second grade production of some play I can’t now recall) and I determined that I would be a part of the chorus, which would be giving a concert for the holiday season.


At this point all I knew about singing I had learned from listening to my mom sing along to The Andrews Sisters at home, but I thought I would give it a shot. You didn’t have to try out or anything, you just showed up for practice after school one day a week.


After a few weeks, as the date of the concert drew closer, I got the sense that Miss Keller was feeling the tension. Directions were barked out. Minor foolishness was not tolerated. Little lines of consternation appeared on her face. One rehearsal, as I was standing in the back (I was always tall), Miss Keller was walking around listening to each singer individually. When she got to me she listened, frowned and said, “Russell, I want you to stand here during the concert and just mouth the words silently. Don’t sing. Your very off key.” 


I accepted this verdict. I wasn’t so much upset as I was surprised.  I didn’t know I couldn’t sing, but now I did. I dutifully stood in my place at the concert and mouthed the words. I didn’t tell anyone I was just mouthing the words and my family was pleased with the performance. I never told anybody this, in fact, until I was an adult. I also never went out for chorus again. When asked to join the church choir, I told them I didn’t sing and became an altar boy instead. I never auditioned for the school musicals, although I was interested in theater. 


I was a non-singer. I got the message. It stuck. Now, imagine please, a child who gets the message that they cannot read. I heard that many times from my seventh grade readers long ago. Once that message is received, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.



One positive that came of this experience is that it helped me when I became a teacher. I tried to make statements of encouragement to students. When "constructive criticisms" were made, I tried to root them in a particular situation and not make them a judgement on what a person could or could not do. 

The messages we send to kids last a lifetime and they are not often about the times table or coordinating conjunctions or how many planets are in the skies. It is the personal messages and connections that are remembered. It is the belief  a teacher instills that we can do that resonates through the years. It is that one book that made a special impression that we remember. That is a lesson we all must take into every interaction we have with a child.

I still don't sing in public, but you should see my Hula.