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To Patsy I can never put into words just what I feel for you, the depth of my emotions just never quite comes through. Because its not your voice or your songs, its your entire life... the passion and the pleasure, the suffering and the strife. Your drive and your ambitions, your compassion and your love... You were truly a Godsend, a gift from up above. Put here to be an inspiration, you were blessed with the gift of song; to heal the heavy hearted, but you wouldn't be here long. Sadly the Good Lord called you home, but even still you live on... in every gasp, in every growl, in every note of every song. In short you are my HERO, thanks for all you make me feel. And though you're no longer here on earth, the world clings to you still. Vanessa Prewett |
This Haunted House |
Loretta herself actually
composed this song, but assigned writer's credit to her husband,
Mooney, under the pseudonym "Oliver Doolittle." From Loretta's 1964
Decca LP "Before I'm Over You."
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"I wrote 'This Haunted
House' for Patsy. Right after she died I was over at Patsy's house to
see the kids and her husband, Charlie Dick. While my husband was
talking to hers, I sat on the steps where she had her playroom, her
bar. It was the recreation room where they had all their parties. I sat
on the steps and wrote this song. I wrote it in about 20 minutes, with
my guitar, and I went and played it for Charlie. I was going to ask him
what he thought of it, but he had tears rolling down his face. He said,
'It's beautiful.' I said 'I wrote this for you.' Two nights later, I
recorded it." ~ Loretta Lynn
From the 1994 MCA Records 3-CD Set "Honky Tonk Girl: The Loretta Lynn Collection" |
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I Miss You More Today |
Lyrics from this song were quoted in Patsy Cline, By Ellis Nassour. From Loretta's 1972 Decca LP "Here I Am Again."
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~ A Life Never To Be Forgotten ~ By: Patsy Walen You were taken away so suddenly, leaving behind a great legacy. You will never be forgotten, we will always remember you. For the love you shared, and the words of hope you gave. We knelt beside your cold grave as the reality that is made. How could God take this soul so soon to heaven? Leaving behind others to mourn and cry. But, after awhile the tears will someday dry. People watched you fastly grow into the singer we know as Patsy Cline. With your painful songs playing in our minds. We hear the love you felt in your heart. Patsy, You are a life never to be forgotten. |
Hilda Hensley wrote the following poem and sent it to Jim McCoy for one of his March 5 Memorial Radio Broadcasts:
I wonder if you've ever stood beside a casket flanked with flowers,
And asked the Lord to help you thank Him for the hours When she was a child at your knee. For your tender loving care, For a voice that was filled with laughter and a will to do, For all the little things that meant so much. And when she came home late I'd be waiting at the window Or leaning on the gate. Yes, I remember that day forever, when God said, "It's moving day." He knew my darling daughter was already on her way To a new home with Him in heaven. And now when we come home late She'll be waiting at God's window Or leaning on heaven's gate From Patsy Cline, By Ellis Nassour, © 1981. All Rights Reserved. |
From The Winchester Star, Lillian Rhodes is quoted thus: "I was babysitting for my son, who lived
across the street from Patsy's mother when Patsy died. I wrote it while
I sat at the window and watched people coming and going after her
funeral. I took it over to Patsy's mother and her husband, Charlie
Dick, and gave it to them. It seemed to please them."
In Memory of Patsy
By: Lillian Rhodes She was born in Virginia. She died in Tennessee. She sang for her home folk, Folk like you and me. She was loved by all who knew her. She had friends far and near. She loved to sing hillbilly songs, For everyone to hear. The night was cold and stormy. Not a star shown in the sky. But little did we all dream, That death was standing by. She sang "I Fall To Pieces." And that was how she died, When she headed home that night, On her last fatal ride. We asked "God. Oh, dear God," Why did Patsy have to die? We do not know. We can only wonder why. God has taken her home to rest, To sing with the angels and the blessed. |