Hank Williams Jr.

USA Today, Jan. 13, 2016

This one’s a little unusual, which one might expect from any encounter with Hank Williams Jr. Known to fans as “Hank Two” and “Bocephus,” he has stirred plenty of tempests. His remarks comparing President Obama to Hitler cost him a deal with ABC, who stopped opening their Monday Night Football broadcasts with his song, “All My Rowdy Friends Are Coming Over Tonight.”

His opinions haven’t changed much since then. He trumpeted them proudly in his concerts, singing “If the South Would Have Won” (“We’d put Florida on the right track ’cause we’d take Miami back / And throw all them pushers in the slammer”) and “Dinosaur” (“Gay guitar pickers don’t turn me on”). In 2020 he echoed them with a new song, “Take a Knee, Take a Hike,” his response to NFL, NBA and MLB teams kneeling during the national anthem (“The NFL means ‘not for long’ / If they don’t find a fix for what’s goin’ on.”)

In other words, our politics couldn’t have differed more if we’d lived on separate planets. But I knew we did have one common interest: Civil War history fascinates both Bocephus and me. So while driving west from Nashville toward his hilltop home near Paris, Tennessee, I played out in my mind how I might break the ice. “Say,” I might begin, “what if Stonewall Jackson lived to command those troops at Gettysburg that Longstreet decided not to let loose on Cemetery Ridge before those Union troops had dug themselves in?”

Turns out I didn’t need to worry. After welcoming me at the front door, Hank led me through his foyer into his office, where I would say about twenty animals were displayed: mounted duck heads, a black bear towering on its hind legs over Hank’s desk near a huge elephant tusk, a white lion watching over the door to his parking lot. Most had been shot by Hank himself. From there we walked into an even bigger room, past a couple of displays of battlefield relics and into a barn-like space in which twenty-odd cannon were arrayed. They were all in perfect shape; in fact, he pulls them out every Fourth of July to entertain nearby families with a fusillade to accompany a Southern-style holiday picnic.

With Hank’s permission, I started recording as we began our tour.

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So, tell me about these two cannonballs.

Those came from [former Jordanaires tenor] Gordon Stoker’s yard. This is a ten-pound Parrott shell from Stone River, where me and Johnny Cash got to hunt. Now, this gun was found at Shiloh, completely loaded; I didn’t find this one. This one was completely loaded, from Lebanon, where Forrest hit the railroad below Nashville. You know, I went metal-sector hunting with Eric Church and his wife outside of Dixon, Tennessee. He found the first thing he had ever found — a perfect Union breastplate with an eagle on it. And he went berserk. He was thrilled to death [chuckles].

Oh, my God! Look at all these cannons!

This is the real thing. They’re right at two million [dollars] in here. I mean, you can’t put a value on them because they’re so historic.

And they’re in great condition, most of them.

Well, you can fire all of them. [We walk past each gun.] That’s Gettysburg, Shiloh, Gettysburg … These were made by Brennan in Nashville, Tennessee. Johnny had this in his yard for twenty years. I cried when John passed away. The phone rang a few months later and his son John Carter said, “Daddy told me that this needs to go back to you.” That blew me away, man. This is really rare. It’s battle-damaged from Fort Donelson. They’re the only two on the planet in private hands. There’s only eleven that are known!

What are your plans for these?

Now, that’s a real good question. I’m really thinking about that. I’ve got to find the right museum.

This picture of a gentleman, over here on the wall? He died when he was one hundred years old. I grew up in his basement, down from Mother and Daddy’s house on Franklin Road. Mister Parks built these carriages for Gettysburg, Shiloh, Vicksburg …  that’s what he did. That’s the room I got to grow up in.

So a lot of your interest in the Civil War came from talking with him …

… and [from] Mother and Daddy’s yard. That’s what got me started. He was real big with the Tennessee State Museum.

When did he pass away?

About two years ago. I was at his funeral. I’m in touch with his son.

There was something uniquely tragic in that war: families divided, brothers fighting brothers, fathers fighting sons.

There’s never been anything like it, right to Abraham Lincoln: Mary Todd Lincoln’s family was from the South. In fact, they had had quite a few little arguments, him and her [chuckles].

They actually put up her sister in the White House …

That’s right.

… when her husband, a Confederate officer, was killed.

That is exactly right! This is a lifetime of stuff. Now, all of this was John W. Morton’s property. He was Forrest’s chief of artillery, then he was the secretary of state for Tennessee for two terms. I’ve got his uniform back here. His Colt is here. You know, he couldn’t stand Braxton Bragg.

Bragg was not a competent general.

He was an idiot! [We return to Hank’s study, with its array of stuffed and mounted animals.] Man, look at the size of that wolf! You don’t realize how big a wolf really is. And I’ve got some photos of a young guy in Montana holding one that’s way bigger than this one. And this one was in Kotzebue, at the top of Alaska — I’m talking about Russia almost, way up there where you hope the motor don’t die [laughs]. The thing is, we weren’t looking for him. He found us. Then it gets interesting. That’s not fun [laughs].

What do you think about the idea of domesticating wolves?

I don’t think much of it. I met this lady one night whose leg was completely chewed up from a couple of boxers. She was trying to get clothes for her boyfriend. I never forgot that. And you’re gonna have a domestic wolf? What if you’ve got a two-year-old and one day he ain’t so domestic?

Where did you get this lion over here?

That was from Mozambique in 1972 — my first hunting trip to Africa. I’ve been there seventeen times since then. [Hank points to a photo of himself with others on that trek.] This man is a legend. His name was Wally Johnson. We went on three safaris together. There’s a book called The Last Ivory Hunter: The Life of Walter Johnson. I’m in this book. An elephant would have killed me if it hadn’t been for Wally.

You’ve got a tusk in your study. Is it from that elephant?

That’s him. All of a sudden he was right on me. Trees were breaking like matchsticks. I fired one and this thing jammed up. Basically his foot was right there [as far away as where I was standing]. I ran away in a half circle. Then I hear Wally shooting from the other side. There’s a picture of me from right after that and you can tell my face is absolutely ashen white. He came right up to me and said, “He came for you, man!”

TAKING IT OUTSIDE

[We head back out through the front door and onto the porch overlooking Hank’s property, a rolling panorama of hills and trees, a creek and small lake, all covering 1,100 acres.]

I recognize this. You filmed CMT Crossroads here, with Kid Rock.

So many people showed up. [Pointing toward an area near some woods.] This is where I shoot. I’m over here at five o’clock, putting up stands. A Tennessee Titan killed the biggest turkey he ever killed down here. And he was from Penn State! He said, “That’s about the most fun I ever had. What a turkey! God Almighty!” He was there about thirty minutes. Man, was he happy!

You’re really in your element. You couldn’t sing the way you do today without living the life you live.

You know, I did my first show when I was eight years old. I busted my ass out there. And I’d get, “What are you doing? You’re crazy! Don’t you do that! Don’t hang around them! You’re dumb! You’re throwing everything away!” I’ve been through all that stuff. The head of the William Morris Agency said, “I can tell you how many acts there are in this town that do what you do.” [He makes a zero sign with thumb and forefinger. Then he picks up his phone and takes an imaginary call.] “A $300,000 Cheyenne Rodeo? Absolutely not! That’s turkey season!”

Let me tell you something. When I go to Nashville, to open the CMA Awards or whatever, I’m not really wanting to hang around, man. I’m gone. See where I am? I’m in Apalachicola, Florida. I’m in Wisdom, Montana. I’m in Buchanan, Tennessee. I’m not on Demonbreun Street [in Nashville]. That ain’t gonna happen. I don’t do traffic jams. I do six hundred miles an hour in an old Toyota. It’s always going to be my life, period. You know where that comes from? Hank Senior. Minnie Pearl said to him, “There’s ten thousand people out there! My God, they’re going crazy out there!” But he would say, “Wait a minute, I’m not through.” And when he did go out there, it was easy for him.

[He jabs his thumb into his chest.] That is the same person right here.

What happens when you spend too much time away from here?

If I’m in the right place, it’s great. I’ve stayed plenty in Montana — months and months — because it’s also remote. Now, on the other side of that is, if I was one of these poor people that have to do 100 shows a year and ride a bus, there’s no way. There’s absolutely no way because I’ve already done it. I did 230 one year. I don’t do that. Ain’t no way, cousin!

Now, to be quite honest, I am playing the Las Vegas Rodeo for half a million dollars for a couple of days in December. It’s in the middle of hunting season, so I ain’t coming out there. Here’s the deal: For half a million, though, I’ll be there. I wear a little ball cap that says “Icon” on it. “Icon is an inside joke from Merle Kilgore. Ken Levitan is smiling because that’s the name of my label: Nash Icon! Well, I don’t know that. This is just natural stuff.

Look, man, these guys [on his crew] are some kind of committed. I went to Daddy’s grave and I said, “I’ve got the best support and record group I’ve ever had.” Let me tell you, that’s the rarest air there is. I’m what you call a motivated icon! It’s too easy for me, is what they say: “Here’s a song.” “Where’d that come from?” “I wrote it yesterday [laughs]!”

CHURCHES, STUDIOS & COVERS

How do you write songs?

I have this little square recorder box, Samsung or something. I’ll bet I didn’t get one of those until five years ago. There’s no way I had one of those until five or six years ago. And no? [He points to his smartphone.] “Hank’s got a what?” I can record on this!

What about actually recording your music?

The studio is in Nashville. That’s when the magic really happens, at Blackbird. There were seven or eight chicks there in their early or late twenties. Every one of them has got a degree in marketing. These chicks washed up a little bit and went on tour. That’s where it started, right there. I’ve been playing with these guys for twenty-five years. You look at them: “Okay, here’s the intro. This is gonna be in the key of so-and-so. We’re gonna do a modulation.” We wink at each other and we got it!

How do you choose songs by other writers that you’d like to cover?

They have to fit, so people will say, “I know he wrote that.” They sent me probably forty songs to listen to on this album [It’s About Time, released on Jan. 15, 2016]. Most of them are horrible. People actually think they can make a living with this shit? [Record producer] Jimmy Bowen said it a long time ago: “If you don’t like it, you can forget it.” He was right. When you listen to those, it’ll make you write and all of a sudden, boom, the party is on!

On It’s About Time you cover an old spiritual song by Rev. Charlie Jackson, “God’s Work.” This makes me want to ask you about the role of the church in your music.

Grandmother and Granddaddy’s housekeeper Flossie’s church on Jefferson Street in Nashville, about ’74 or ’75. I’m in there, singing. Blues, country, gospel: all that stuff is in the same stream. Mahalia Jackson is important to me. Bobby “Blue” Bland is important to me. Lightnin’ Hopkins is important to me. “That’s how I got started,” Bobby said, “I can’t do it, but you can because that’s what you love, man!” There are great bands in these little out-of-the-way churches.

Some of these singers hit that sweet spot right between the major and minor third.

For me, that’s easy because that’s exactly what I do. I draw from Jimmy Reed. When I could barely play a guitar, eleven or twelve years old, I’m sitting there in Mother’s house and I got me a little electric guitar and a Jimmy Reed album. And guess what? I haven’t grown up!

Have you listened much to Rev. Gary Davis?

Not until Bobby Rock introduced me to him a few years ago. People will have a fistfight over “Lovesick Blues”: “That’s a Hank Williams song!” No, it’s not! It was used in a Broadway play around 1928!  [The show was titled Oh! Ernest and opened in New York in 1922.] But he damn sure made it his. And I make it mine.

A BREAK FROM POLITICS

How have you and your music changed over the past ten years or so?

One of the people just hit me on the head about that “Just Call Me Hank” song [from It’s About Time]. He said, “You know what that’s about? Somebody who is absolutely, completely comfortable with one of the biggest American legends there is.” I said, “Laurie Ann, you hit it right on the head.” “Over the hill” is one place I won’t go. I still sell out everywhere. I do many shows. It’s gonna be loud and proud. It’s gonna be real. The only way I know how is when I lay outfield, Waylon is there with me.

You’re doing what you want to do. You’re at peace.

Period! And a lot of people agree with me.

You’re not interested in speaking your mind on politics anymore?

You know what? They asked me the other day about the president [Barack Obama]. I said, “I don’t give a shit about any of it.” But, hey, these cats sent me an email: “Okay, about the banks and the gasoline and the land values. I’ve been with my analysts and my financial planners.” And this guy said the perfect answer. He said, “If the Democrats stay in office, I recommend buying lots of water, ammunition and food [laughs]!” That was a really great answer — the best investment you can make. And this guy’s a big shot.

You’ve moved past all that, though.

I have. It’s so sickening. It doesn’t matter what party it is, they’re all snakes. Parties don’t matter. This present idiot [President Obama] went to London and took 385 people and six doctors and I don’t know how many vehicles. For a quick visit? They’re laughing at him in London. People are kind of tired.

You’d rather focus on getting your own life together than waste a lot of energy talking about these big shots at the top.

Yeah. Hey, I’m gonna show you how to make a .50-caliber sharp lead bullet. We’re gonna do something important today! We’re gonna make it just like Davy Crockett knew how to hit that tree out there. But this other stuff?

Been there, done that.

Yeah, that’s kind of it. You get rid of all that stuff. The news is depressing. If I watch the news, I’d never have written any of these songs. You could forget that album. You know what I watch in the morning? RFD Network. I love RFD Network! I have cows. I have pigs. I have farms. I know how to get back here and jump on this tractor. My San Francisco buddies don’t know but I do know how to run it. “Hey, buddy! Go back and run that tractor.” “I can’t run that tractor [laughs]!”

THE LOST MAGIC OF COUNTRY MUSIC

A lot of your music seems designed to take the listener to the kind of places country songs once evoked regularly. There’s a real sense of place in “Those Days Are Gone” [from It’s About Time], with that old-school steel guitar …

There’s a lot of Hank Senior’s feel there.

.. and words like “neon” and “barroom” in the lyrics. Do you think that sense of place is missing from a lot of modern country music?

Of course!

So you’re on a mission to remind people of where this music came from.

I don’t know about no damn mission. I don’t give a shit about a mission, okay? I want to write ’em. They’re gonna feel good to me. They’re gonna feel good to them. My mission is to make that twelve-year-old in Syracuse, New York, hold up that eagle: “Hank, you are our family tradition.” That is my mission. Oh, my God! Little kids in a hospital? “You are our family tradition. My family was raised on you and he’s raising us the same way.” That’s as good as it gets. If we can get this son of a bitch [i.e., interview] over with, I’m taking a jet to Alabama and shoot me a big old hog. That’s my mission. [Hank laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulders.] You’re a good guy.

Well, what should fans of modern country know about Hank Junior that they don’t know?

They know everything there is about me! Are you kidding? That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about. When you listen to “Dress Like an Icon,” you’ll know. [He sings: “Everybody damn sure knows me!”]