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AZroute74 · 01-30-2004, 07:26 PM

This is my first time at this site. I didn't know it existed. I hope what I'm about to do is OK. If anyone knows how to contact the man, please help me, it is imperative!

Open letter to GL

Dear Mr. Lightfoot:

I pray to God that somehow these words will reach you personally, so you will know what you have recently done for me. Actually, it was something you did thirty years ago, but it has recently had a profound effect on me. I must thank you.

A few months ago I reacted to a brutal marriage breakup by pulling up stakes and moving southwest. I figured if I had to start over, I might as well do it someplace warm. Things didn't work out well. I couldn't find work, grew more and more depressed, and finally got ambushed by one of the worst flu epidemics in recent history, in one of the hardest-hit states. I won't list my rather unappetizing symptoms, but I was hospitalized several times, unable to shake this thing. I'd be out of the hospital three days and then back in for eight.

As it grew impossible to financially maintain my own home, I moved to a halfway house after my last release from the hospital. Its atmosphere was hardly compatible with recovery from illness. I am a fairly boring, sedate middle-aged woman, suddenly tossed in with a wolfpack of rowdy (but good-hearted enough) young men. Rap music and I don't get along very well. It was constantly pounding in my ears. The young men spoke as young men often do--loudly, with more than a dash of profanity. Simply to block out the noise, I put on headphones and began to fish through my own CD collection for music I considered sane. Finally I came across something that seemed to work magic. It had always been my favorite one of yours, but there was something more this time. I don't know if it was the peaceful flow of its rhythm, the soothing chord prgression, the escapist undercurrent of the lyrics, or your low, gentle, haunting vocals, but something calmed me. If I couldn't "slip away" from there physically, I could do so mentally.

Even that awful marriage breakup had been connected to a woman by the same name you mention in the song. I liked the subtle suggestion to not "recall her face," and I found amusement in the fact that you had rhymed that mean woman's name with "damned."

Actually too weak to keep sitting up and changing CD's in my little portable, but needing something to take care of the noise, I put the song on repeat and relaxed, drifting in and out of sleep even as I related to such lyrics as "my sweet, shattered dream" and "the good old faithful feeling we once knew." As soon as I was well enough to travel, I retuned home to my family, though I certainly won't be seeing "my old flame."

While it may be a stretch to say you saved my life, I know you helped me heal, and preserve some semblance of sanity. By now I have given enough clues that I'm sure you can easily tell which song it is that I vow never to be without a copy of. If I burn a laser hole right through the CD by playing it so much, I'll just get another one.

I can't thank you enough, Mr. Lightfoot, for helping me through such a difficult time.

Gratefully,
Judy Coyle

[This message has been edited by AZroute74 (edited January 31, 2004).]

01-30-2004, 07:26 PM	#1
AZroute74 Member Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Louisville, KY, USA Posts: 80	This is my first time at this site. I didn't know it existed. I hope what I'm about to do is OK. If anyone knows how to contact the man, please help me, it is imperative! Open letter to GL Dear Mr. Lightfoot: I pray to God that somehow these words will reach you personally, so you will know what you have recently done for me. Actually, it was something you did thirty years ago, but it has recently had a profound effect on me. I must thank you. A few months ago I reacted to a brutal marriage breakup by pulling up stakes and moving southwest. I figured if I had to start over, I might as well do it someplace warm. Things didn't work out well. I couldn't find work, grew more and more depressed, and finally got ambushed by one of the worst flu epidemics in recent history, in one of the hardest-hit states. I won't list my rather unappetizing symptoms, but I was hospitalized several times, unable to shake this thing. I'd be out of the hospital three days and then back in for eight. As it grew impossible to financially maintain my own home, I moved to a halfway house after my last release from the hospital. Its atmosphere was hardly compatible with recovery from illness. I am a fairly boring, sedate middle-aged woman, suddenly tossed in with a wolfpack of rowdy (but good-hearted enough) young men. Rap music and I don't get along very well. It was constantly pounding in my ears. The young men spoke as young men often do--loudly, with more than a dash of profanity. Simply to block out the noise, I put on headphones and began to fish through my own CD collection for music I considered sane. Finally I came across something that seemed to work magic. It had always been my favorite one of yours, but there was something more this time. I don't know if it was the peaceful flow of its rhythm, the soothing chord prgression, the escapist undercurrent of the lyrics, or your low, gentle, haunting vocals, but something calmed me. If I couldn't "slip away" from there physically, I could do so mentally. Even that awful marriage breakup had been connected to a woman by the same name you mention in the song. I liked the subtle suggestion to not "recall her face," and I found amusement in the fact that you had rhymed that mean woman's name with "damned." Actually too weak to keep sitting up and changing CD's in my little portable, but needing something to take care of the noise, I put the song on repeat and relaxed, drifting in and out of sleep even as I related to such lyrics as "my sweet, shattered dream" and "the good old faithful feeling we once knew." As soon as I was well enough to travel, I retuned home to my family, though I certainly won't be seeing "my old flame." While it may be a stretch to say you saved my life, I know you helped me heal, and preserve some semblance of sanity. By now I have given enough clues that I'm sure you can easily tell which song it is that I vow never to be without a copy of. If I burn a laser hole right through the CD by playing it so much, I'll just get another one. I can't thank you enough, Mr. Lightfoot, for helping me through such a difficult time. Gratefully, Judy Coyle [This message has been edited by AZroute74 (edited January 31, 2004).]