The Man Who Wrote 'I'll Fly Away'

On this episode of Our American Stories, Albert E. Brumley is recognized as one of the most important Gospel music composers of all time. Writing over 800 songs, including "I'll Fly Away" and "Turn Your Radio On", and with countless awards to his name, he truly is an American music icon. But how did this son of Oklahoma sharecroppers end up where he did? Here to tell the story is Betsy and Elaine, his granddaughters.

Support the show (https://www.ouramericanstories.com/donate)

 

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we returned to our American stories. Up next, a
story about a man who had an extraordinary impact on
American music, writing bluegrass and gospel standards such as I'll
Fly Away and turn your radio on. Here's our own
Monty Montgomery with a story. Albert E. Brumley was born

(00:30):
on October twenty ninth, nineteen oh five. Here's his granddaughters
Betsy in a lane. To tell the rest of the story.
Grumphawk ger up in a little town in Oklahoma. He
was born there Spiro, Oklahoma, close to Rock Island, Oklahoma.
He grew up really poor. His family were sharecroppers, and
they sharecropped cotton. You know, if you've ever been picked cotton,

(00:53):
if you've ever done that, it's terrible. It's awful. It hurts.
I mean because I remember doing it as a school
experiment when I was a kids don't know why they
had his do that. The pricks and from the thorns
or whatever those little sticky things are. But that was
his childhood. But it was musical because his dad played
instruments and taught him how to love music, and he

(01:13):
played the piano. And we really hated picking cotton, like
the life which is one of the reasons he decided
to move toward the music and Hartford, Arkansas. I've heard
two different stories. The one that I grew up hearing
was he walked over from Spiro and his home farm
to Hartford with you know, it varies, but around two

(01:36):
dollars and fifty cents or so, not much money in
his pocket at all. Hartford is like actually twenty eight
miles from Spiro. So the fact that he walked twenty
eight miles to go to school, to me, it shows
some mighty determination, which I think when he knocked on
Ian Bartlett's door and told him he wanted to learn
music is what really sold Ian Bartlett on. The fact

(01:56):
that this guy had something, which is why I'm Bartlett
allowed him sleep upon his couch instead of paid tuition,
so it kind of sponsored him in a way. And
of course the repayment was that he would have to
come work for him after he taught him, you know,
how to write music to pay off the tuition debt.
But who was em so Ian Bartlett was a songwriter.

(02:20):
He learned how to write songs from the Stamps Baxter
Company and decided to go out on his own and
he began the Hartford Institute in Hartford, Arkansas, and EM
did a lot of things at that music school. He
was a publisher as well as teaching music. Music he
would teach at temporary singing schools set up in small
communities across the country for the purpose of educating poor

(02:41):
rural Americans on the basics of music, and tuition was
paid for by buying EM's songbooks. That's how my grandpa
made money. On all everyone that worked for the Hartford
Music Institute made money was by going to sell these songbooks.
Some people would attend school, and as you got were
popular and your songs became more popular, you was signed
a page in those songbooks. And as we know, Grandpa

(03:03):
was pretty prolific when he was writing his music. And
IM taught him the basics of how to do it,
but the talent, of course came from Grandpa. He wrote
a lot of songs in those convention books. He was
one of the I guess I'm going to use the
words most famous contributors to these convention song books. I mean,
if you want a list of songs, I mean there's
all fly away. I'll each in the morning. If we

(03:25):
never meet again, turn your radio and ring strangers to me,
did I said, jus the Holy hand, I can't remember.
But Grandpa wrote all fly Away over a period of time.
It wasn't something he just sat down and did. And
one of the things that's pretty unique about Grandpa just
throw this in here, was he wrote the notes of
the music along with the words. Not many people these days,

(03:46):
there are so many co writers. He wrote them right
to left, right to left exactly, which is totally and
it's just crazy to think about. Yeah, but that's how
he saw it. That's how it worked for him. And
he was very particular about the message and the song,
and he wanted specific words and for off fly Away.
I mean, I don't know if he knew this or
not because we never discussed it, but it meant a

(04:08):
lot to him with that song, I think, and it
took him a while four years to compose it and
get it the words right, and he would get stuck
on one phrase or one word and if it didn't
suit what his vision or meaning for the song was,
because what he wanted to do is paint a story
for people so they could see it in their mind
and connect to it and feel it. And then I

(04:30):
guess in some way apply it to their life to
help offer them hope and maybe purpose uplift them a
little bit in their day to day lives, because you know,
people didn't have the things the luxuries of life. They
looked to each other and community and music as a connection.
And so that was the beginning of off fly Away.

(04:51):
In the years he started that after he was with
Ian Bartlett, right tween or twenty one. Well, any other
thing is Grandpa always called that a little dinny. He
never really there never anything suspectacular to him. And Grandma
is actually the one who made him send it in
because part of his deal with Ian Bartlett was that
he had to send a song in a month because
he was had it works for a higher contract, which

(05:12):
means part of his contract was one song per month
so he could be submitted to a songbook. And so
he was looking for a song to submit one month
and Grandma was like, well, don't you submit this one.
Because he never really thought he just called it. He's
always referred to it as a little ditty. It was
never anything huge to him. But he still was so
particular about always about everything he did. That's true, but

(05:33):
he was very particular about that but Grandpa, I do
remember Grandma. They always said Grandma. I don't know if
the word forced his correct, but she shirt furnished him
to get that song out there for people to hear
because she liked it. And as we know, a couple
of body likes a couple of other people seem to
like it. I think because it's easy and simple and happy,

(05:56):
and it just and it's hopeful and it's easy to remember.
You know. Grandpa always wrote and he would say that
if you can't come out singing the song, then it's
not good enough, because if you have to be something
that's memorable, something that people will remember. And another thing
Grandpa used to say was that never you get too
far from the people, and then you'll never be too
far from the mainstream because everything is about people. If

(06:19):
you it doesn't matter what you do, whether you write
a song, whether you so close, it doesn't matter what
you do. If people will not accept it and make
that part of their lives, then it doesn't matter how
good it is. So he always kept that in mind.
It's like, will people sing it doesn't connect to people?
Is this going to be something that they will remember?

(06:40):
And I think I'll fly away is a very good
example of that. I mean what nineteen seventy six we
got We won an award for all fly Away being
the most recorded song in history, a gospel song in
history at the time, and it was seven hundred and
twenty six times. That means when we say recorded, we
mean licenses, and that was nineteen seventy six. So here
we wat thirty forty five years later and we're over
twelve thousand licenses. And when he first wrote it, it

(07:03):
took a few years for it to become even popular
and it was even recorded, but not until the Chuck
Wagon Gang recorded their recording, and it just somehow connected
with people. Plus things in the industry were changing from
convention singing and the things he did to more professional
group performances. But they made a recording of that and

(07:25):
it just really took off, and that's when the awareness
of the song went beyond convention singing and church singing.
And it was because the Chuck Wagon Gang is not
necessarily only Christian music. They'd sing all kinds of music,
and they've been around for almost as long as we have,
and or in the second and third generation of their singing,
and so there's a connection there that's lasted as well,

(07:49):
and that started the road. And Grandpa was such a
smart man. He recognized the shift in the industry and
began to do more of the publishing. And that's when
he was moving towards his own publishing company and bought
Hartford and did all these other things, and so Off,
by a way, was obviously a part of that. It's
become part of the fabric of America and the world

(08:09):
even I mean, the Smithsonian has named Grandpa that the
greatest American. They did use this, they said the greatest
white songwriter before World War Two, which I don't know
why they made extinction, but they did. And of course,
byways now in the Library of Congress as well, along
with ranked strangers. So you know, I don't know if
there's not many songwriters who have two songs in the
Library of Congress. And you've been listening to this story

(08:35):
of Albert E. Brumley is told by his granddaughters Elaine
and Betsy, and his ditties indeed are masterpieces. And staying
close to the people, making sure that it's a memorable melody. Well,
we learned that about Irving Berlin. To stay close to
the people, make sure they can hum it and then
sing it after hearing it once. By the way, our

(08:56):
Irving Berlin piece is beautiful, and you can go to
our American stories come and listen to it. In so
many ways, though these men came from different places, one
from New York City, one from Oklahoma and Arkansas, their
stories are the same American story. When we come back,
more of Albert E. Brumley's story, a uniquely American story,
and a great music and art story, and so much

(09:19):
more here on our American story, and we returned to

(10:10):
our American stories and our story on Albert E. Brumley,
the man who wrote many classic American bluegrass and gospel
standards such as I Will Fly Away and turn your
Radio on. When we last left off, Albert had got
his start in music at the Hartford Music Company after
walking there with just two dollars in his pocket. And
Albert would soon form his own company here again or

(10:33):
his granddaughters Elaine and Betsy with his story. So Grandpa
started at what he called Albert E. Bromian Sons, his
own publishing company in nineteen forty four, and he started
writing for himself, and he was also a writing for
Stans Baxter and for Heartforsts all the time. But he
went back and purchased all of Heartforst who could get

(10:53):
all of his songs back, And that ended up in
nineteen forty eight when we got all of that started. Yeah,
when we got one hundred percent. Because it was different people,
I had owned portions of it. So we bought each
percentage from each person to own one hundred percent of Hartford.
And because it was relationships with people, we've printed books
for literally everybody. I mean, we printed song books for
the Opery, we printed songbooks for Louisiana Hayride, we printed

(11:14):
songbooks for the Rim for a Valley, Ozark, Jubilee, Bob Wills,
the groups, all the groups, Charlie Humbard, We've printed songbooks
for everybody. So over these years that we've had this,
we've sold just our own books that we've made, plus
our own books we made for ourselves and sold which
we used to sell in the National Enquirer. Of all
things we did, we sold millions of them and we've

(11:34):
sold them all over the world. But we've sold over
forty million songbooks and we've made over one hundred million songbooks.
Because Grandpa was genius the man. He was smart. So
I like to say he invented iTunes. That's just my
own thing. But that's because Grandpa got He made a
contract with all those publishers around and everybody get a
list of all the songs that they owned, and he
would send them to people like the Opery, the Louisiana Hayride,

(11:56):
all those folks. Pick your favorite one hundred and fifty songs,
Samuel list will put him in a songbook, put your
name on it, and you can sell it, which is
why we sold Tony Song. We made so many songbooks
because everybody would pick different songs. It would personalize. They
would have their playlist of songs, we'd make it in
a book, and then they would sell it with their
name on the front on their cover. It was a

(12:19):
brilliant shift over in the industry to be able to
do that. Yeah, And on the more personal side of
this that I love the songs and stuff. But you know,
Grandpa was so artistic in so many ways. He helped
create the illustrations on the covers of the books. So
the evidence of his folksy image, the way he was

(12:40):
in real life was presented on the covers of these books.
With little log cabins and pine trees, which I love,
and little church buildings. So he was such a hands
on person. He had from the beginning to end. He
had an idea. And then in the later days in
the sixties and seventies, Dad and Bill, his older brother Bill,
were the only one really left at the company, and

(13:01):
they contributed and participated in the creation and putting together
these books, which is where we learned how to staple
and stitch books, because we did do that on site
for a long time and I've packed so many books,
but you know, that was just part of the business.
That's what we did in the middle of nowhere. It
was enough to where we even have a post office.

(13:22):
There's like ten people in palma'sri which is where Grandpa
and Grandma's houses, and across the road is the business
he built and a post office. But there used to
be a thriving community there as well. But the post
office still exists because we shipped from that rural area
all over the country. One of the things that I
was always impressed with was how he lays the books out.
He had a specific way of laying him out with

(13:44):
the numbers correlating like he loved the number one hundred.
He put his song on there a lot of times
because this one his long book was when he had
the Convention style books, that was his number, that was
one number, one hundred, huh. So he kept out connection
and put him in those new books. And I think
that kind of stuff is pretty cool, you know, the
way he continued that tradition really and it meant something

(14:05):
to him. So he named his kids after song people,
and he kept the traditions of why I gave him
his beginnings and the music. It meant a lot to him.
I think because of these behaviors showed it and over
the years because of his work, Albert developed long, masking
friendships with countless well known musicians who would sometimes come

(14:27):
over for dinner at his house in Paul, Missouri, where
Elaine and Betsy would meet them. I didn't know this
was anything. I didn't know about fame or celebrity. I
didn't know they were famous people from Nashville. I didn't
know anything but what Dad and Grandpa did and what
was normal life. And the fact that those people came

(14:47):
to the house. They were just friends. We just said
around the table and eight. It was not I mean
it at about food. I mean I have a memory,
oh totally about food. But you know I have memory
of sitting on Ernest Tub's lap and he had wearing
his his cowboy hat and he ate my green beans
because I hate green beans. But I would get in
trouble if I couldn't eat green beans, but he would
he ate my green beans, so we get in trouble.

(15:08):
I mean, I have that memory. But to me, that
was nothing. I was like, oh man, I got somebody
in my green beans. That's all I cared about. You know,
everybody came to the house. It never even occurred to
me that they were famous, not even one time. And
we can't not talk about the hill In Hollow. Yeah,
we had what was called the hill On Hollow Folk
Festival where we had local arts and crafts and local

(15:32):
music and it was focused more on the gospel aspect
on Sundays and have gospel formaged and there'd be you know,
there'd be a church services locally. And as time moved on,
they decided to add in blue grass and bring in
some of those people that were famous that we didn't
know we're famous to sing on Saturday nights. He'd bring
in the opery stars like Ernest Tubb and Jones, many Pearls,

(15:53):
all of everybody came. I mean, if you can't not
name an opery star that wasn't in peal on the
stage and you had dinner with them, because that's just
what you did. You made some homemade ice cream, had
a conversation, picked a little, they went on stage, and
then you did it again. You know, you had you
jammed afterward, or you ate more or whatever. Yeah, because

(16:13):
they would they would just show up. I mean I
remember the buses coming in and everything is down behind
the stage. There's was a low wire that goes to
the barn. You have to hold You have to get
in the pickup truck and hold up the wires so
the busses could go. Wonder. I love I used to.
That was my favorite part, to see the wire. Who's
gonna get stuck on the wire? But like you know,
the Thrasher brothers got stuck at one time, Blackwood brothers.
As far as the Gospels are concerned, everybody was there.

(16:36):
Everybody came and sang on that stage. I mean what
Marty Stewart was with Lester Flat when he was like
seventeen years old, played on that stage. Yeah, Lester Flat,
Earl Scrugs and Marty, Marty and oh golleg I can't
even think of him because they're just like there. But
anybody back. George Lindsay came one time. I remember Goober
showed up. Yeah, that was weird. But also industry people

(16:58):
showed up, so it wasn't just the stars showing. Everybody
would say I'm going to Brumley. Whether it'd be the
singer or the hill in Hollow, they would always show
up because it was such a good time. And it
was just whether they were from New York or you know,
thirty miles away, it meant something for people to gather
at these events and connect and get away and relax
and enjoy. Well. Grandpa was very particular too. I mean

(17:20):
he did not like to leave pal He didn't I mean,
even to get awards and stuff. He'd be like whatever.
But I do remember the story when he went down
to see Governor Jimmy Davis, the governor of Louisiana who
wrote the song You Are My Sunshine. And they were
down there in the Governor's mansion and he served fried
chicken and they were everybody's all nervous and Grandpa, Grandpa's grandpa.

(17:42):
He had a chicken leg, put his elbows up on
the up on the table and just start eating and
everybody's like, oh, thank goodness, and then everything was fine, everybody,
all the nerves were gone. You know. His grandpa was
just Grandpa was relaxed. He just wasn't stressed about anything.
And he didn't want the limelight either. Remember, he was
either off behind the stage or sitting. He liked to
sit on stairs, sit on the stairs, or squat on

(18:04):
sit off to the side to watch what was going
on around. He would talk to anybody that came up,
but he never really went up on stage very often.
Even at whatever event we were at, he was he
just preferred that relaxed everything is okay, I'm eating my
chicken leg with my elbows on the table. Very laid back. Yeah,
And people loved that because they didn't have to put

(18:25):
on a face. They could be themselves around him. That
whole authentic self thing. You couldn't help it because that's
just that's who he was. And you're listening to the
granddaughters or Albert E. Brumley tell his life story, and
in a way, the granddaughters are telling their own because
these stories are so intertwined in this remarkable American story,

(18:48):
in this remarkable American family. When we come back more
from the granddaughters. And by the way, if you've got grandkids,
empower them to tell your family's story. Empower them early,
because my goodness, to not know your family's story, for
better or for worse, is a crime. When we come
back more of this remarkable American story. Albert E. Brumley's

(19:10):
here on our American story, and we return to our

(19:39):
American stories, and the final segment of our story on
American composer Albert E. Brumley and also American entrepreneur is
told by his granddaughters, Betsy and Elaine. In nineteen seventy,
Albert would be inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Association Hall
of Fame, becoming a charter member of that organization, which,

(20:00):
according to the granddaughters, was something he really enjoyed going to.
Let's continue with the story. Okay, so here's what happened.
So he goes and Grandpa left pal for like five reasons,
and that was one of them. Grandpa, like Elaine, was saying,
no limelight not his thing. He would sit in the

(20:21):
back of the room, and Grandpa hold a cup of
coffee by the bowl in his palm, and that's how
he would drink. So he would lean up against the
back wall, very unassuming. You don't know who he is.
He doesn't make a fuss. That's just how he spent
most of his time. But this young songwriter had just
got some award. I have no idea what it was.
He came up and said, man, look what I just did.
Blah blah blah. He was so excited about it. He said, dude,

(20:43):
what's your name, goes I'm Albert Bromley, goes man, have
you written anything? I know? He said, I'll fly away,
and the guy goes oh and just walked off. I mean,
but Grandpa was fine. He just, you know, he just
did his thing. He never made a fuss, and he
ate weird stuff. He ate weird stuff and slept weird.

(21:04):
And he was an sang tricked by today's standards in
the way I remember him. When I was really small,
it was normal, But now when you talk about it,
it's it's just humorous. It's funny because he did eat
funny things and different things that what we normally eat,
like buttermilk on wheaties or tomato juice on wheaties. Oh,
and the treat that was in the Oh, yeah, he

(21:26):
liked a slice a can of it wasn't called spam then,
well maybe it was business treat, Yeah, which is another
kind of canned meat product. And it's a pork product
that came in a tin can that had a key too,
and he'd leave it open in the fridge and then
got slice them off when he wanted it at three
o'clock in the morning. Many times. There's tons of stories.

(21:48):
And when I was little, before a lot of the
other kids came along, I would go down with Grandma
Brumley on Friday nights and Grandpa would be in his
room because he liked he had a room right off
the kitchen where he lived on this couch on I mean,
he slept there, he ate there, he did everything there.
But he would come out and he would stand because
we weren't supposed to watch scary shows, but Grandma would

(22:09):
let me watch something called Demension sixteen, and that was
on the UHF channel, which, by the way, we had
to run a wire from the house up to the
top of the bluff behind the house to get the signal,
and that's another story to watch that. But he would
come out and just stand there. He would never sit
with us, but he would just stand there and watch
it a few minutes and he mosey to the bathroom

(22:31):
wherever he was going, and he would come back through
and stand there for a few minutes and you know,
watch with us and go back to his couch. And
that was just my Friday for a very long time.
That's how I spent my Friday's by nights with Grandma
Brumley and the snacks and all the things, and she
makes them and toast for you, so oh, and cocoa.
We did that, and she let me sip her coffee,

(22:52):
which was also a no doubt. And never did take
up the smoking that Grandpa did, though I never cared
for that. He would smoke a lot, or at least
hold a lot of cigarettes. He would hold them all
he was thinking, and they would burn down and the
ash would drop off, and there was a lot of
cigarette burns on the table beside his couch re latum.

(23:12):
And I have myself seeing Grandma go up to him
with an ash tray and tap the cigarette into the
ash tray so it wouldn't drop it all over the
floor or something, and it was kind of something. He
would go, oh yeah, and then just keep on because
his mind was focused on whatever, whatever. And sometimes and
he had a lot of thoughts and he would write
them down ice cream sticks and pieces of paper and

(23:34):
lines for music, music notes and whatever. Telephone building, tell oh,
whatever he can get. And he always wanted Cadillac. And
when I was little, just just to give you a picture,
because we like to draw the pictures. There's we live
out in the middle of the country with a two
lane road and just across the street literally was where
they started their business and built the buildings. I don't know,

(23:56):
five hundred feet maybe, but it was across the two
lane highways. So Graphaw got his car and he would
get up in the morning when he was ready to
go to work, and he would jump in the car
and drive across the street and park it and walk
in the building. And then at lunch he would jump
in the car, drove across back to the house and
go eat and take his nap, and then he would

(24:17):
do the same thing in the afternoon. And that was
his regiment. The walking was not his thing. He wanted
to drive his car back and forth across the street.
But you know Dad did the same, same exact thing. Yeah,
but that's what you did because you went to and
from work. Yep. It's fun to think about those days. Yeah.

(24:42):
Albert E. Brumley would pass away in nineteen seventy seven,
leaving a legacy of over eight hundred songs, all penned
by his hand, but only one of them can claim
the title as the most recorded gospel song in all
of history, that song being I'll Fly Away, and its
legacy isn't lost on the family. I used to work

(25:04):
for American Airlines because I wanted to travel, and Dad
said he wasn't paying for it. And I've literally heard
all fly away all over the world because Kevin and
I heard it and feed you on our honeymoon. But
I was in Australia on a bus and nobody has
a clue who I am. And I'm on the way
to this this cave thing. It's like thirty minutes outside town,
and myself and my friend are the only Americans on
the bus. Everybody else is Australian and they're singing Walt Matilda.

(25:26):
We're like, that's kind of cool. Blah. Blah. But the
next song they sang was all fly Away. Now they
again they had no clue who I was, or I
didn't say anything, but it's like, it's so amazing to
meet the impact of that song. It's been recorded in
every country, in every language on the planet. We have
a license for it until I keep you know, getting

(25:46):
new countries, and then we have to go back. But
it changed the name, changed the name, But that song
has touched millions upon millions of people because the song
is over eighty years old, so it's been around long
enough for generations of people to connect to it and
sing to their grandchildren and their families at funerals, at gatherings,

(26:09):
at sings and whatever. And Betsy's story in Australia, those
things are motivational to keep it alive because it still
does mean something. So whenever we can get it out there,
like it was recently on a TV show and they
sang it and I still got tears and I still
got the chills, and it's just still relevant. And Grandpa,

(26:29):
as Betsy was saying, knew that was a factor in
continuing things when it means something to the people. One
of my favorite things is when people tell me there,
I'll flyaway stories because everyone has one. I have literally
hugged people in the grocery store, I've cried with them,
I've cried with them in the hospitals. A lady a

(26:50):
friend of mine used that as her wedding march, which
I thought was really interesting becase I've never heard that before.
But that song brings back memories for people of things
that they may have forgotten about, but it like transports
them to a place that is so special and such
a place in their heart that that nothing else can
get them there. And the fact that they're willing to

(27:10):
tell me that story, because it really happens to me
almost daily that someone tells me the same here. I'm
always sharing stories. So one of the ones that I
have is that gentleman told us that he was in
a car accident and he was being life flighted out
and he was dying, and he felt that he actually died,
and he was singing all fly Away to bring himself

(27:32):
back so he would not die. So he's saying that
he's sang himself back to life, is what he was saying.
He's say, I just kept singing all fly Away so
I would not die. To know that my name that
as a person in this world represents something that that
can literally change someone's life in a moment is so

(27:55):
huge that it's an honor to be able to be
connected to something like that. And it's just that people
tell us those stories. I mean, I'm serious. I've cried
with so many strangers. I've had more people telling me
those stories, especially in hospitals. I don't know how I
end up in hospitals, but I tend to. I get
hurt a lot, I do. I get in the emergency room. What.

(28:16):
I don't know why. I'm danger danger prone or whatever,
accident prone, whatever, But people tell me their stories. And
and I mean I've just cried and cried with people.
They've seen that to their to their loved ones when
they're older loved ones. I mean, we've done that in
the hospice. We've we've brought people into hospice and to
like the Chuck Wagon gang because we still was saying
work with them, brought them to hospice and people and

(28:39):
they sing off, fly away, and people have come out
of their rooms and it's like the nurses were like,
it's like they haven't walked in a week. But they
come out of their rooms to sing and participate and
be near that song. It's amazing to me the power
of the melody their grandpa conjured up out of out
of literally nowhere, out of a cotton field in Oklahoma.

(29:00):
You know, to be able to move someone to where
as they are literally slowly passing away, they have the
strength to get up and they want to be near
that song. That's amazing to me. And a great job
by Monty Montgomery on the production of that piece. A
special thanks to Betsy and Elaine, the granddaughters of this

(29:22):
great man, Albert E. Brumley, and a special thanks to
Katrina Hine as well. And again remember he started as
the son of sharecroppers in cotton fields in the middle
of nowhere in Oklahoma and walks his way to a
new life and a life of art and music. And
in the end, forty million music books sold, and the

(29:42):
greatest and most recorded gospel song of all time that
as you could hear from the granddaughters, touched millions. And
we love telling these stories because it connects American history
with the American present and everything in between. A special
thanks to any granddaughter, any grandkid who wants to keep
the story of their family alive, the Albert E. Brumley
story Here on our American Stories.