" In Nashville where I've lived for about the last ten years, up until about four years ago there was an old man there I used to go in and listen to all the time. He sold paper bags down on Connor Street. He was a blind man and he played guitar and he was really a great old guy. He won a Grammy, believe it or not. A few years ago RCA Victor went out on the street with a tape recorder and taped him while he was out there, and submitted the recording to the section that deals with authentic folk songs, and he got the Grammy that year for it. Didn't mean that much to him as far as his pocket looked. As a matter of fact, it really didn't mean much to him at all, he didn't even know what it was. Cortelia couldn't see it anyway. I was in San Francisco playing at The Boarding House one week. I got back home, picked up all of newspapers and went inside, started reading through them. Found out he had burned to death in his trailer while I was gone. I don't know how much it will mean ever to him, but this is a song I wrote about him." - Mickey Newbury
