Country Music

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IN DECEMBER 1984, “NOBODY LOVES ME LIKE YOU DO” BECAME ANNE MURRAY’S NINTH NUMBER ONE COUNTRY HIT IN AMERICA. TWENTY-THREE YEARS LATER SHE SANG IT AGAIN, WITH THE DAUGHTER SHE HAD ONCE BEEN AFRAID OF LOSING. When that single topped the chart, Dawn Langstroth was five years old. It was a duet with Dave Loggins, a straightforward love song, and it stayed that way for more than two decades. Dawn spent years fighting anorexia nervosa, and none of her mother’s records made the slightest difference to it. In January 1999 the family stopped keeping it inside. Dawn agreed to speak publicly, the two of them gave interviews side by side, and Anne played a benefit that month for Sheena’s Place, the Toronto centre that had supported them. Dawn came through it, and started writing and recording under her own name. In 2007 they recorded “Nobody Loves Me Like You Do” as a duet for Duets: Friends & Legends, the last album of new material Anne Murray ever released. Not a word of the lyric changed. For anyone who knew what that family had been through, it stopped sounding like a love song. The daughter Anne had once been afraid of losing was the voice answering her own, line for line, all the way to the end.

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When Anne Murray Sang “Nobody Loves Me Like You Do” Again In December 1984, “Nobody Loves Me Like You Do”…

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LORETTA LYNN BECAME A MOTHER AT 16. DECADES LATER, SHE ADMITTED SHE AND HER DAUGHTER HAD ALMOST RAISED EACH OTHER. Betty Sue was Loretta’s first child. She arrived before Loretta had finished growing up herself. While most girls her age were thinking about school dances and the future, Loretta was keeping house, working in the garden and caring for a baby. Three more children followed quickly. Betty Sue became the feisty little “boss” of her younger siblings, while her young mother tried to build a home from almost nothing. Looking back, Loretta said, “In many ways it felt like we raised each other.” As the years passed, their bond changed. Betty Sue became a songwriter, helped her mother with the ranch and worked beside her in entertainment. But more than that, she became the person Loretta called every day. Not simply a daughter. A best friend. When Betty Sue died in 2013, Loretta had already survived poverty, a difficult marriage, the death of her son Jack and six decades in the music business. None of it prepared her for losing her firstborn. “Part of my heart died when she left us,” Loretta later wrote. Loretta became a mother at 16. But when Betty Sue died, she learned that no matter how old a child becomes, a mother never stops seeing the baby who first gave her that name.

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Loretta Lynn and Betty Sue Lynn: A Mother-Daughter Bond That Grew Up Together When Loretta Lynn became a mother at…

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ON OCTOBER 4, 2022, A 90-YEAR-OLD WOMAN DIED IN HER SLEEP, IN HER OWN BED, ON LAND SHE OWNED IN HURRICANE MILLS, TENNESSEE — A FEW HUNDRED FEET FROM A CABIN SHE HAD BUILT AS A COPY OF THE ONE SHE WAS BORN IN. Doo had been gone twenty-six years by then. They had been married forty-eight. Of the six children, she had already buried two. Loretta Webb was born in Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, in 1932, one of eight. The walls of the cabin were papered with pages torn from a Sears catalog. She married a twenty-one-year-old veteran a month after meeting him. She was fifteen. She told it for fifty years as thirteen, and it took a wire-service reporter going through Kentucky state records in 2012 to correct her. She had four children before she was twenty. She was a logging-camp housewife in Custer, Washington, when her husband handed her a guitar. In 1960 she cut “I’m a Honky Tonk Girl” for a label nobody had heard of. Then she and Doo got in a car and drove the country, station to station, handing the record across the desk and asking the man behind it to please play her. Twelve years later, the men behind those desks were refusing. “Rated X.” “The Pill.” Pulled from playlists, banned outright in places. She kept turning them in anyway. The records sold regardless, because the women buying them had heard nobody say those things out loud before. In 1972 country music named her Entertainer of the Year. No woman had ever held it. The song that gave her a name was about her father, who worked the mines and did not live to see fifty-two. She wrote it eleven years after he died. She sang it for the next fifty, and said near the end that she’d have given anything for him to hear it once.

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Loretta Lynn and the Long Road Home On October 4, 2022, Loretta Lynn died in her sleep at 90 years…

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JACK LYNN NEVER CHASED HIS MOTHER’S FAME. HE STAYED HOME WITH THE HORSES — AND DIED IN THE RIVER RUNNING THROUGH HER OWN LAND. Jack Benny Lynn was Loretta Lynn’s eldest son, but he never followed her onto a stage. While his mother’s name filled theaters across America, Jack worked as a blacksmith and cared for the horses at the family’s Hurricane Mills ranch. Loretta once described him as the child she felt “most sentimental about.” On July 22, 1984, the 34-year-old set out on horseback and attempted to cross the rain-swollen Duck River. He never made it home. Searchers later recovered his body from the river on the family property. Loretta was on tour and recovering in an Illinois hospital after collapsing from exhaustion. Doolittle traveled from Tennessee to tell her in person. Their daughter Patsy later remembered, “She tore to pieces. They were very close.” Loretta had bought Hurricane Mills as a place where her family could remain close. But the land meant to hold them together became the place that took her son. Fame had taught Loretta how to survive almost anything. It could not teach a mother how to bury her boy.

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Jack Benny Lynn Never Chased Loretta Lynn’s Fame Jack Benny Lynn grew up in the shadow of one of country…

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THE SONG WASN’T EVEN WRITTEN ABOUT THEM. THE WRITER GOT THE IDEA FROM A TV SHOW ABOUT A GUN. THEN GEORGE JONES AND TAMMY WYNETTE SANG IT FOURTEEN MONTHS AFTER THEIR OWN DIVORCE, AND IT WENT TO NO. 1. “Golden Ring” follows a cheap pawn shop wedding band through a courtship, a marriage, a fight, and back to the same glass case it came from. Bobby Braddock wrote it as a story. It just happened to land in the hands of two people who had lived every verse of it. George never pretended it was noble. He said it plain in his memoir: it wasn’t his idea, and he hated working with her. Too many memories. And every time fans saw them together, they started hoping. Here’s the part that stays with you. After the split, nobody wanted to book them apart. Tammy would be standing alone in the middle of her own song, and somebody in the dark would yell out — where’s George? They didn’t sing that song because it was a good story. They sang it because the world wouldn’t let them stop. Knowing all that — can you still hear “Golden Ring” the same way?

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How “Golden Ring” Turned a Broken Marriage Into Country Music History “Golden Ring” is one of those songs that feels…

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WINCHESTER ONCE KNEW HER AS A POOR GIRL FROM SOUTH KENT STREET. WHEN PATSY CLINE CAME HOME FOR THE LAST TIME, NEARLY 5,000 PEOPLE WERE WAITING. She was only 30. Her greatest run of hits had lasted barely two years. Yet when Patsy Cline was buried on March 10, 1963, close to 5,000 people gathered in and around Winchester to say goodbye. The funeral home became so crowded that its doors had to be closed, leaving nearly a thousand mourners outside. Along the five-mile route to Shenandoah Memorial Park, people stood beside the road with bowed heads. Men removed their hats. But Winchester had known her before “Crazy” and “I Fall to Pieces.” She was Virginia Patterson Hensley, the girl from working-class South Kent Street. After her father left, she quit school and worked behind a drugstore counter to help her mother support the family. At night, she sang wherever anyone would let her. Winchester had not always made room for a girl from her side of town. Then she came home for the final time, and the town nearly stopped. They buried Patsy Cline that day. But the thousands lining the road had come to mourn the girl Winchester first knew as Virginia.

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When Patsy Cline Came Home One Last Time Winchester, Virginia, had known her long before the records, the radio play,…

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ANNE MURRAY SPENT THE SPRING OF 1973 IN THE TOP 10 OF THREE DIFFERENT BILLBOARD CHARTS WITH THE SAME SONG. “Danny’s Song” went out as her single at the end of 1972, after she went hunting for a follow-up to “Snowbird” and found the track sitting on a Loggins and Messina album. It climbed to No. 7 on the Hot 100 and No. 10 on the country chart, and spent two weeks at No. 1 on Adult Contemporary. It hit No. 1 in her native Canada and earned her a Grammy nomination. Kenny Loggins had written it years earlier, and not for anyone outside his family. His older brother Dan had just become a father to a boy named Colin. Dan and Colin’s mother, Sheila, were broke, planning a wedding and getting ready to move to Berkeley with a newborn. Then Dan sat down and wrote his younger brother a letter about exactly that: no money, a new family, and a future he was looking forward to anyway. Much of what Anne Murray later sang to millions came straight out of that letter. The lines people have been singing back to each other for fifty years were never a songwriter’s invention. They were one young father’s description of his own life, written to his little brother and nothing more.

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Anne Murray, “Danny’s Song,” and the Spring of 1973 In the spring of 1973, Anne Murray was doing something rare:…

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NOBODY BECOMES A LEGEND BY STANDING AT THE BOTTOM OF A HARMONY. EXCEPT HAROLD REID. Don Reid sang the words. Jimmy Fortune reached the high notes. Phil Balsley held the middle. But Harold Reid held the floor beneath all of them. He was the bass of The Statler Brothers — not always the first voice people hummed on the way home, but the one they felt before they understood why the song worked. Take Harold out of a Statler record and the song still plays. It just does not land the same way. Something underneath is gone. That was his power. He was also funny enough to own a room before the first chorus ever arrived. In a group known for faith, family, and harmony, Harold gave the Statlers something just as important: warmth. He made the crowd laugh, then dropped his voice so low it felt like the whole song had found its foundation. Near the end, he told Jimmy Fortune he had been a blessed man and was ready whenever the Lord called him. When Harold passed in 2020, Jimmy wrote the plainest truth: “Our hearts are broken tonight.” Some singers want you to look at them. Harold Reid made you feel what was missing when he was gone.

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Nobody Becomes a Legend by Standing at the Bottom of a Harmony. Except Harold Reid. There are singers people remember…

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K.D. LANG TOOK HER HALL OF FAME AWARD FROM ANNE MURRAY IN 2013 AND TOLD HER, “I STILL HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU.” It happened at the Juno Awards in Regina, April 21, 2013, on national television. The woman handing lang the honour was one of the idols she’d grown up on out in Consort, Alberta. Murray said of her that night, “I loved her sense of fun, her spunk, her gumption, and she could sing.” Six years earlier they had already sung together. For Duets: Friends & Legends, Murray re-recorded seventeen of her own songs with her favourite female singers, and the one she cut with lang was “A Love Song.” Emmylou Harris, Shania Twain, Olivia Newton-John and Celine Dion were all on that record. Reviewers still singled out how cleanly lang’s voice sat against Murray’s. Eighteen years after that album, on October 27, 2025, the Grand Ole Opry House filled up for a tribute night called The Music of My Life. Murray was 80, retired from the stage since 2008, and she stayed down in the audience with more than a dozen of her family. One after another the singers took her hits. Then k.d. lang walked out and sang “A Love Song” — the one the two of them had recorded together — back to the woman who had been her idol since Alberta.

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k.d. lang, Anne Murray, and a Full-Circle Moment That Still Resonates On April 21, 2013, at the Juno Awards in…

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FOR YEARS, THE QUEEN OF COUNTRY MUSIC PARKED HER TOUR BUS OUTSIDE A TENNESSEE SCHOOL SO SECOND GRADERS COULD WALK THROUGH IT. Every year, when the second grade class at Goodpasture Christian School in Madison, Tennessee reached its unit on country music, Kitty Wells and her husband Johnnie Wright brought the bus over and let the kids climb around inside it. Then the two of them sang a song or two before heading home. Later, when the couple opened their museum in Madison, they let that same class walk through it free. It went back to the fall of 1969, when their grandson John Sturdivant Jr. started at the school. Eight grandchildren, five great-grandchildren and ten nieces and nephews followed him in. By the school’s own count, more than forty years passed without a single one in which somebody from that family wasn’t enrolled. They played benefit concerts in the high school gym. When Goodpasture wanted a band room, the donation that got the fundraising started came from them. Johnnie died in September 2011, after 74 years of marriage. Kitty died at her Madison home the following July, at 92. The woman who became the first female singer to reach No. 1 on the country chart could have had her name attached to any memorial in Nashville. Her family asked for no flowers, and sent mourners to Goodpasture instead, in the name of the Kitty Wells/Johnnie Wright Scholarship Fund — tuition money for kids down the road from the house where she died.

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Kitty Wells, Johnnie Wright, and the School Down the Road For years in Madison, Tennessee, a country music story kept…

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