Dear Hank Williams Read Online Free

never teaches me a song worth singing. Instead we practice scales with silly words like Here we go up a road to a birthday party . I believe music should fill up inside a person like air and make them think they’re so light, they could float to the clouds. Hank Williams, that’s the way you sound when you sing, like you’re a part of those words coming out of your mouth, heading toward the sky. All practicing scales does is make my fingers ache. The whole time I’m thinking, I wish Miss Mildred would teach me voice lessons. Once, I asked her, “Miss Mildred, how about we use half my lessons for singing?” Do you know what she said? “Tate, some voices aren’t meant to be heard.” Well, I was fit to be tied!
    Clearly, Verbia Calhoon has a voice that Miss Mildred thinks should be heard by the world. She thinks Verbia is going to be a big star, and so does Mrs. Calhoon. Mrs. Calhoon claims she is not only Verbia’s mother but also her manager. That means she buys big stacks of songbooks for Verbia and arranges for her to sing solos in church every third Sunday. If I had all those voice lessons, I could do that. When my momma comes back from making that movie, she’s going to see to it that I get the best voice teacher in the parish. We’ll probably have to drive all the way to Alexandria, but Momma won’t mind, because she knows I’m capable of singing like an angel too.
    The songbird from Rippling Creek,
    Tate P.

 
    September 13, 1948
    Dear Mr. Williams,
    I T’S BEEN A COUPLE of weeks since I sent you my first letter. I’m wondering if you haven’t answered any of my letters because I was disrespectful by using your first name. I reckon I forgot because they call you Hank Williams on the radio.
    I should have written “Mr.” in front of your name. Anyway, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I want you to know my momma raised me right. Frog is a different story. Momma slipped up some on raising him.
    Everyone has heard back from their pen pals, except for Wallace and me. (I doubt he wrote his cousin, because he said the whole pen pal idea was stupid.) Even Coolie and Theo Grace got letters all the way from Japan. You should have seen the red-and-purple stamps on their envelopes. They had pretty designs and funny symbols that Mrs. Kipler said were Japanese words. Theo Grace’s pen pal drew a picture of a rabbit on the back of hers. The teeth looked so sharp. Coolie read his aloud, and everyone laughed when he got to the part where his pen pal asked if he knew Hopalong Cassidy. He’s a big movie star. How would we personally know him? I’m sure my momma has met him, though.
    This week, Mrs. Kipler said we should write about how we spend our day when we aren’t in school. Did I tell you I was a cosmetics model? There ain’t a woman around Rippling Creek that hasn’t gotten a dab or dose of the Delightfully Devine Beauty Products that Aunt Patty Cake sells. Sometimes I ride with Aunt Patty Cake when she makes her calls. We start on the outskirts of Rippling Creek and wind our way through the backwoods until we meet the other side of town.
    The only place Aunt Patty Cake doesn’t drive to is Pine Bend, where the colored folks live. Once I asked her why. She looked annoyed and said, “I don’t have to, because Constance gathers their orders and brings them to our house.” That didn’t really answer my question, but I can tell when Aunt Patty Cake is finished explaining. Besides, I think I know, anyway. Uncle Jolly says a white woman should never be caught going into Pine Bend. He makes it sound like there are murderers living there.
    The other day Sudie Cartwright wanted to know what Tequila Sunrise Peach rouge would look like. Aunt Patty Cake rubbed two tiny dots on my cheeks. Mrs. Cartwright put on her glasses and came in so close to my face, her wiry eyebrows were inches from tickling me. She quickly