Rodgers was a man of many nicknames, from "The Singing Brakeman" to "The Blue Yodeler." But his most accurate moniker is "The Father of Country Music."
Rodgers' mother died when he was only six or seven years old, and Rodgers, the youngest of three sons, spent the next few years living with various relatives in southeast Mississippi and southwest Alabama.
While working as a water boy on the railroad, Jimmie was taught to pick and strum by rail workers and hobos. He was also exposed to the work chants of the African-American railroad workers, known as gandy dancers.
"Nobody seems to want me or to lend me a helping hand
I'm on my way from Frisco going back to Dixie Land
Though my pocketbook is empty and my heart is full of pain
I'm a thousand miles away from home just a waiting for a train"
The Kipsigis tribe first heard Jimmie Rodgers' music from British soldiers during World War II. They couldn't believe that a human being could sing and play like this, so they decided he must be some sort of deity, half-man and half-antelope. The tribe wrote a song called "Chemirocha" to celebrate this bizarre yodeling monster.
In 1924, Rodgers was diagnosed with tuberculosis. The disease temporarily ended his railroad career, but at the same time gave him the chance to get back into the entertainment industry. He organized a traveling road show and performed across the southeastern United States until his tent was destroyed by a cyclone.
His sister-in-law, Elsie McWilliams, was his most frequent collaborator. Rodgers could not read music, so McWilliams would play the songs and he would learn them by ear. She was the first woman to make a career as a country music songwriter and was inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1979.
"Blue Yodel No. 1", better known as "T for Texas", featured a yodel Rogers claimed to have learned "after he caught a troupe of Swiss emissaries doing a demonstration at a church." When the song was released in February 1928 it became a national phenomenon, and Jimmie sold-out shows whenever and wherever he played.
I'm growing tired of the big cities' lights,
Tired of the glamour, and tired of the sights.
In all my dreams I'm roaming once more,
Down to my home on the old river shore.
I am sad and weary,
Far away from home,
Miss the mississippi and you, dear.
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