Story Telling, Friendship and Carter Stanley

My Friend, Carter

It all happened by accident. These things have a way of starting out like that. I hadn’t planned it, and I wasn’t looking for it . . . but “it” changed my life forever. Now “it” is kinda hard to describe. The easy part, it was a piece of vinyl shoved in a cardboard sleeve. But, etched in the grooves of the plastic was the voice of the man who was to become my friend.

And I guess I’ve come to know him as well as anyone could know someone they’ve never met. You see, he was laid to rest seven years before I ever knew he existed. They tell me it was cold and dark on the day of the funeral, on a remote mountaintop at the extreme corner of southwestern Virginia. Later that evening, a corner of the canopy that covered the new-made grave had worked itself loose in the wind. A friend of the family – Uncle George, they called him – went up to the grave site to tie it back in place. Years later he told me that everywhere he looked was my friend, Carter Stanley. He was over here, and here and here. George never did go back . . . but I have. I have been to that mountaintop and enjoyed the sunrise as it brought into view the clouds of mist in the valleys below, and seen the sunsets that cast a golden hue over the land that Carter loved so well. George might have “seen” visions of Carter, but I “felt” him.

Now Carter, the physical being . . . that part of him that I never met, was a wonderful singer, a gifted writer and an engaging performer. He never tired of singing about his world . . . about the deep rolling hills of old Virginia . . . where the mountains meet the sky. It was his invitation for me to enjoy it as well. And I have, for well over 40 years.

Now, you’re probably wondering how can a series of grooves etched in a piece of vinyl turn into friendship. Well, what is friendship anyways? What’s a friend? A companion? Someone who is there to share your good times, and bad? To go with you down the road of life? To help you sort out the pitfalls along the way? If the answer is yes, Carter Stanley has done this for me.

Friends can be all of this, and more. They can be an inspiration. Fresh out of high school, I was intent on a career in banking . . . numbers and money. But Carter kind of nudged me in another direction. The banker turned researcher and traveled the country . . . the world, in search of knowledge, about him. Became a member of the recording community and produced albums and CDs of music, about him. Wrote books, about him. Took acting lessons and developed a play, about him. And standing here today, spinning stories for you folks, it’s all . . . about him.

It reminds me these two ol’ boys that was all the time bragging about what good friends they were. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” And the other would be like, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.” So, all they did all day long was to sit around doing nothing for one another! Well, me and Carter aren’t like that. We happen to think that friendship is a two-way street.

Carter had a lot of problems in life. I think the biggest one was that he felt his life didn’t matter, that it didn’t count for much. I try to do for him by letting folks know that he was wrong. I try to be the voice in his wilderness, singing his praises . . .  just as he has sung for me. We do, do for each other. Some people develop friendships in life that last beyond the grave. Me and Carter, we just thought we’d mix up the process a little bit. And I’ve got to tell you, I’m glad we did. And I’m glad for the day that a piece of vinyl shoved in a cardboard sleeve introduced me to my friend. My friend, Carter Stanley.