Man of Constant Sorrow by Ralph Stanley

Author:Ralph Stanley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781101148785
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-08-12T05:40:14+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Death Is Only a Dream

“My latest sun is sinking fast, my race is nearly run

My strongest trials now are past, my triumph has begun

O come, Angel Band, come and around me stand

Bear me away on your snow-white wings to my immortal home”

—“ANGEL BAND,” THE STANLEY BROTHERS

Carter was suffering in health for a long time, but he had a way of fooling himself and everybody else, too. He thought he was smarter than any doctor when it come to how he should live. He carried his leather bag like the kind that doctors had, and that’s where he kept his bottle of Scotch or vodka or whatever did the trick. He called it his “medicine for the miles.”

The bottle was the way he handled life on the road. He believed that it kept him going.That may have been so in earlier days, with a nip here to pep him up before the show and a nip there to ease his mind riding to the next. That was when he was young and strong. Now the medicine wasn’t the good kind no more. It was a poison.

One of Carter’s biggest fans and oldest friends was our doctor, Bruce Mongle. He was a very respected physician and surgeon. He had a practice in Bristol and he was our family doctor for years. When he wasn’t sawing people open, he played a pretty good old-time banjo as a pastime. He loved the Stanley Brothers and he loved Carter like he was his own son, and he wanted to help keep him alive.

Around Christmastime in 1965, Dr. Mongle came down to Florida to visit us for the holidays. Carter wasn’t feeling well and he asked Dr. Mongle to stop by the house and give him a full checkup. So Dr. Mongle examined him and it didn’t take long before he’d seen enough. “Carter,” he said, “if you don’t lay that bottle down, you won’t see another Christmas.”

Now, most people might be scared hearing that. It’d maybe make you think long and hard about what you’re doing and maybe you’d change your ways. Carter wasn’t like most people. He didn’t even flinch, and he wouldn’t hear of any such talk, even from a man he respected and loved so much as Dr. Mongle. He just sort of chuckled.

“Doc, you’ll cross the river long before I do,” said Carter, smiling.“I’ll be around long after you’re gone.”

Dr. Mongle was right. Carter never did get to see another Christmas.

There had been some health scares, but Carter always pulled through, so I can see why he didn’t take the doctor’s advice. In his mind, he could always get his strength back. He felt like nothing could conquer him or keep him down long. “I’m gonna make it,” I can still hear him say. “Don’t you worry about me.” And he always seemed to find a way to recover.

Of course, we did worry about him, especially in that last year. I’d tell him he needed to quit the bottle, and when I did, he’d lash out and call me Little Jesus.

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