Talkin' Charlie Daniels 2.0: Country music is a mix of Sunday morning and Saturday night

There’s this old saying here in Tennessee: When you’re talking about country music, you have to deal with stuff that happens on Saturday night and on Sunday morning.

The first person I heard say that was Naomi Judd and, well, she would know a thing or two about that. However, I don’t think that soundbite of wisdom originated with her. That would, for example, help explain the music of Hank Williams. Ditto for Willie Nelson. How about Dolly Parton?

You can put Charlie Daniels in there, as well. This leads me to the podcast conversation I had this week with Eric Metaxas, who has been a friend for 20 years or so. Please note that this goes way back before Donald Trump decided to enter politics.

Metaxas and I agree on many things and we disagree on a few things, too. But we care deeply about what happens when religious issues collide with the news. Eric tends to focus on the end product, while — as someone who has worked in newsrooms — tend to focus on the process.

You see, in the newsrooms I have worked in there have been lots of people who “get” Saturday night, by which I mean the rough-and-tumble topics (including politics) that folks hash out in honky-tonks. There are also a few newsroom pros who “get” what happens on Sunday morning, as in the world of religion.

When it comes time to write about the life of a person like country-rock superstar Charlie Daniels, what ends up in print largely depends on who is assigned to cover the story. That usually offers a window into the worldview of newsroom managers, just as much as it does reporters.

I was stunned when the Nashville Tennessean obit for Daniels viewed his life through the lens of politics and the Trump era (oh, and music). This affected what many news consumers read all over Tennessee, since Gannett now runs this state’s dominant newspapers (including my local paper in Knoxville).

My concern about that obit led to this post: “There was more to Charlie Daniels than politics and even his music (hint: 'I'll Fly Away').” This part of the piece jumped out at me:

… Daniels undoubtedly had many other passions. A staunch supporter of U.S. troops and veterans, he spent much of his career traveling overseas to play for service members in Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan. …

For the last four years, hardly a day went by without Daniels sharing this message on his Twitter account: “22 VETERANS COMMIT SUICIDE EVERY DAY!!”

On the platform, the man who sang 1980's confrontational "In America" solidified his reputation as one of the most outspoken figures in country music. In daily posts, he would decry abortion as “murder,” ask fans to “pray for the blue,” and declare that “Benghazi ain’t going away.”

“We’re sitting on the upstairs porch looking at the northern horizon and watching America light up, fireworks going off all over the place,” he tweeted on July 4. “You may tear down statues and burn buildings but you can’t kill the spirit of patriots and when they’ve had enough this madness will end.”

I thought that Metaxas might want to talk about this, because I knew that he had interviewed Daniels just a few years ago.

The problem with that Tennessean summary, of course, was that it mentioned Daniels’ politics — a totally valid topic for coverage — but it forgot the other side of his life.

Where was Sunday morning? Where was the faith that guided what this man did with lots of his time and his money? Where was the faith content that ran through his lyrics, especially in the second half of his career, and his stage work as an entertainer?

In other words, where was the rest of Charlie Daniels?

Yes, that Benghazi tweet was part of the mix, right up until the final hours of his life. But this man also tweeted out a stream of scripture and prayers. It appears that this was his final tweet, before he died of a sudden stroke:

Now, in this digital age, one of the first things reporters do when a celebrity dies (or anyone else dies, come to think of it) is head to the Internet to scan his or her social-media content.

So, why didn’t journalists write about all of the topics in those Daniels Twitter feed? Why just focus on politics? Also, didn’t they notice that almost everyone in country music, when they tweeted out tributes to this man, stressed his faith and his family?

Now, it would appear that the Tennessean team that covered the memorial service for Daniels was more open to discussing both halves of this man’s personal life. Bravo for that. The headline said, “Charlie Daniels funeral: God and country at center of Hall of Fame singer's service.” Here’s the overture:

MURFREESBORO, Tenn. — Before anyone could stand behind the podium to speak about the late Charlie Daniels on Friday, two things had to happen.

First, a hymn: “The Lord is My Shepherd,” sung by Carolyn Corlew, a longtime background singer in the Charlie Daniels Band.

Moments later, a color guard marched up to Daniels’ casket with the U.S. and Tennessee flags, and the hundreds gathered inside World Outreach Church rose to say the Pledge of Allegiance.  

God and country were at the center of the funeral service for the “Devil Went Down to Georgia” singer, who died … at age 83. It was a morning where Vince Gill combined his “Go Rest High on That Mountain” with a rendition of “America the Beautiful.”

Travis Tritt led the congregation in “Amazing Grace,” Gretchen Wilson sang “I’ll Fly Away” and Trace Adkins revisited his patriotic “Arlington.”

“He always said two things protected America: The grace of God and the United States military,” said speaker David Rutherford.

However, let me stress that I didn’t see that story in print over here in East Tennessee. Maybe it only ran inside the Nashville newspaper?

Also, I watched the funeral and I would say — this was a church service, after all — that the mix was about 80% Jesus, or more, and the rest patriotism. Over and over, the coworkers and superstars who knew this man talked about the ways that his faith affected his life and work.

This passage helped, including the word “all”:

As with all who spoke … Tritt lauded the impact Daniels' faith could have on those around him. 

"He was never judgmental or preachy about his beliefs," Tritt said. "If you believed differently than he did, that was OK. But he wasn’t ashamed to tell you at any given time how much he loved the Lord." 

He added, "I have no doubt that if there’s any person that I’ve ever met that heard the words ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant,' it was Charlie Daniels this past Monday." 

So what happened here?

As I told Metaxas, newspaper stories often reflect the worldviews — and the skills — of those who are assigned to produce them.

So what now?

I think if would help if some folks who knew Daniels — maybe his pastor and a country superstar or two — showed up in the Tennessean lobby and asked for a meeting with a few editors. The goal would be to praise the accurate mix of material in the funeral story and also to ask what happened with that obit.

Lots of leaders and activists request meetings of this kind, every now and then. It’s normal. It’s part of the journalism business. School officials do it. LGBTQ activists do it. Sports fans do it. Business owners do it.

What we have here is a journalism problem. It’s OK to ask editors about it.


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