Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone?
Woody Hartman at home in Blountvile, Tennessee
When death shall close these eye lids
And this heart shall cease to beat
And they lay me down to rest
In some flowery bound retreat
Will you miss me when I'm gone?
—Maybelle Carter and The Carter Family (Listen to the 1935 recording here. )
In 2009, our friend Woody Hartman asked me to put Maybelle Carter’s solo version of Will you miss me when I’m gone? on a CD for him in honor of his late father. When we heard the belated news of Woody’s May 2023 death, I remembered the Carter classic and thought it a fitting title for his memorium. Especially so, because we were told that he died without an obituary or a funeral.
Although my wife Angel knew Woody long before I first met him in 2006 after we moved to Tennessee, I shared her admiration and respect for him right away. He struck me as a genuine person through and through. Loyal, modest, hardworking, and bestowed with a personal philosphy that encompassed the Christian tenet, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, Woody never said “No” when it came to helping others.
After serving in the US Navy and working for 33 years as a Chemical Explosvies Analyst at Holston Defense, one of the world’s largest munitions manufacturers, Woody suffered a back injury and retired to become a self-employed handyman.
He built his own house in Bloutville, Tennessee, where he lived until his death. I remember visiting him there once and admiring his craftsmanship and attention to detail. A fastidious housekeeper, the house featured hardwood floors, and paneling that were polished to a luster. After his wife died, he continued to display her large collection of antique dolls which he maintained in pristine condition.
His work injury left him with serious back pain for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, he managed to accomplish numerous home renovations and odd jobs for his friends without ever complaining.
My best memory of Woody was sharing a lunch with him at a small country diner one afternoon in 2008 after we had picked up a load of mulch in his pickup. We had hot dogs, french fries, and Cokes served up by the woman chef/owner who seemed very fond of Woody by the sound of their friendly banter.
We never got to say goodbye to Woody until now. He died with no fanfare, which is perhaps the way he wanted to go out, so much in keeping with his lifelong self-effacing demeanor.
As I listened again to Maybelle Carter sing Will you miss me when I’m gone? I thought it sadly ironic that Woody was drawn to it so long ago. But I also wanted to go on record to say that Yes, we do miss you, dear Woody. He was one of the few truly decent people I’ve known, and a gentle spirit who seemed to have overcome his demons to leave the Earth a better place.
Goodbye, and rest in Peace, dear friend.
—Stephen Newton