Saying a fond farewell to a local legend:
Austin Avery
By: Kenny Avery
When country music fans both young and old, sit around spinning tales of their favorite stars, the names Roy Acuff, Benny Martin, Curly Box and Charlie Daniels are bound to come spilling off someone’s lips.And most knowing country music fans worth their price in ticket money to the Grand Ole Opry will suddenly realize that these names are all synonymous with fiddle-playing.To the city dwellers, and unknowing country music fanatic, a fiddle is known by the name: violin. Again, true, knowing country music fanatics know that a fiddle is an humble-spirited instrument that’s mostly played with callused hands. Hands that have paid their share of dues and have had their share of having the brass ring sliding from their deserving hands when it came time to reach for it on the carousel of life.Hamilton, Alabama resident Austin Avery is no stranger to country music. Or the fiddle. Or to callused hands made that way from years of manual, low-paying labor and too, having ‘the brass ring’ slide out of his hands when it came to reach and grab his share of gusto from the one-way trip called life.Avery, 89, now passed from this world, would sometimes recall the first time he actually held a fiddle in his hands. “I was cutting up so much that my mother handed me my dad’s fiddle and set me in the middle of their big bed complete with mattress stuffed with goose feathers and told me to occupy myself.”Avery was seven years of age when this life-changing event happened and from that moment on it was a relationship (he and the fiddle) that would endure for the remainder of his life.Austin came from a big family, six in all, that farmed the land for their living in Hamilton in the Marion County’s infancy.Austin was the only boy in his family of his parents, James and Ida Belle Avery and sisters, Ludie, Etta, Evie, and Arvilla.“I never thought much about being the only boy in a houseful of sisters--we all played games and got along pretty good when my dad didn’t have us working in the fields or something else to keep us from being idle.” Avery recalled.But it was Avery’s love for the fiddle that kept him out of teen mischief as he would steal away by himself and practice one song at a time until he had mastered the song and then he would find another song as a challenge to his eager mind and fingertips.As Avery explained, “Not everyone can be a fiddle player. It takes a world of patience and an ability to accept failure often.”As he grew older and more experienced, he found himself entering fiddling contests in the area of New Hope, a small community near Hamilton.He won first place in several fiddling contests and attributed his talent of fiddling to, as he is quick to say, “The Good Lord.”Austin Avery was more than just another fiddle player. Far more. I personally have watched his life over the years and watched him excel in various occupations--auto mechanic, carpentry, brick laying, machinist, and a farmer. All of these occupations were all self-taught. Austin did not hold walls of certificates of higher learning from various colleges and teaching institutions.Austin had a very valuable gift: knowing how to live life and know what to do when it came time for him to do something either for his family or a neighbor.During his 89years, Austin has seen his family grow into housefuls of kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren at Christmas and birthdays. And during any given holiday gathering someone is bound to say “Paw paw, get out your fiddle and play us a tune.” And he did on many occasion as he would get out his fiddle and play with a pure, natural style with that would make Roy Acuff, the Dean of the Grand Ole Opry and Charlie Daniels, who fiddled the devil out of Georgia turn green with envy as his fiddle bow caressed the strings to tunes like “Billy in The Low Ground,” “Sally Goodin,” and “Uncle Penn” come to life.Avery, who long-since retired from work both public and private, was simply content to enjoy day-to-day life with his only love, Mary Dean Lee Avery in their quaint home in Hamilton, Alabama.But ever so often, someone like Eugene Taylor, another Hamilton fiddler, years younger than Austin, will drop by for a Saturday evening jam session in Austin’s living room.Granted, Austin would not have made his home in Hamilton if with his talent for fiddling, he would have made a good living in the early 50’s playing with bands at state fairs and rural concerts. And possibly tasted fame in Nashville as a solo artist.But he made a sacrificial choice between pursuing his dream of fame in fiddling or just working to see that his family’s needs were met and to make sure his children were raised right before they left home for lives of their own.Austin seen his share of trouble and adversity in his 89 years of living and he has enjoyed numerous days with joyful events, but one thing has remained a constant in Austin Avery’s life: his fiddle playing.I say, with all love and respect, that I watched Austin’s life over the past 89 years and how he slowed down on doing some things that we all take for granted.That’s how life is. I should know Austin well.Austin is my dad.And I am proud of him.Austin left us on September 25, 2006 and he left me with one question: How do you properly say farewell to a legend?You don’t.If you have any sense, you will learn to appreciate them while they travel through your life.Because legends are like shadows, they are here and gone before you know it.
Austin Avery
By: Kenny Avery
When country music fans both young and old, sit around spinning tales of their favorite stars, the names Roy Acuff, Benny Martin, Curly Box and Charlie Daniels are bound to come spilling off someone’s lips.And most knowing country music fans worth their price in ticket money to the Grand Ole Opry will suddenly realize that these names are all synonymous with fiddle-playing.To the city dwellers, and unknowing country music fanatic, a fiddle is known by the name: violin. Again, true, knowing country music fanatics know that a fiddle is an humble-spirited instrument that’s mostly played with callused hands. Hands that have paid their share of dues and have had their share of having the brass ring sliding from their deserving hands when it came time to reach for it on the carousel of life.Hamilton, Alabama resident Austin Avery is no stranger to country music. Or the fiddle. Or to callused hands made that way from years of manual, low-paying labor and too, having ‘the brass ring’ slide out of his hands when it came to reach and grab his share of gusto from the one-way trip called life.Avery, 89, now passed from this world, would sometimes recall the first time he actually held a fiddle in his hands. “I was cutting up so much that my mother handed me my dad’s fiddle and set me in the middle of their big bed complete with mattress stuffed with goose feathers and told me to occupy myself.”Avery was seven years of age when this life-changing event happened and from that moment on it was a relationship (he and the fiddle) that would endure for the remainder of his life.Austin came from a big family, six in all, that farmed the land for their living in Hamilton in the Marion County’s infancy.Austin was the only boy in his family of his parents, James and Ida Belle Avery and sisters, Ludie, Etta, Evie, and Arvilla.“I never thought much about being the only boy in a houseful of sisters--we all played games and got along pretty good when my dad didn’t have us working in the fields or something else to keep us from being idle.” Avery recalled.But it was Avery’s love for the fiddle that kept him out of teen mischief as he would steal away by himself and practice one song at a time until he had mastered the song and then he would find another song as a challenge to his eager mind and fingertips.As Avery explained, “Not everyone can be a fiddle player. It takes a world of patience and an ability to accept failure often.”As he grew older and more experienced, he found himself entering fiddling contests in the area of New Hope, a small community near Hamilton.He won first place in several fiddling contests and attributed his talent of fiddling to, as he is quick to say, “The Good Lord.”Austin Avery was more than just another fiddle player. Far more. I personally have watched his life over the years and watched him excel in various occupations--auto mechanic, carpentry, brick laying, machinist, and a farmer. All of these occupations were all self-taught. Austin did not hold walls of certificates of higher learning from various colleges and teaching institutions.Austin had a very valuable gift: knowing how to live life and know what to do when it came time for him to do something either for his family or a neighbor.During his 89years, Austin has seen his family grow into housefuls of kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren at Christmas and birthdays. And during any given holiday gathering someone is bound to say “Paw paw, get out your fiddle and play us a tune.” And he did on many occasion as he would get out his fiddle and play with a pure, natural style with that would make Roy Acuff, the Dean of the Grand Ole Opry and Charlie Daniels, who fiddled the devil out of Georgia turn green with envy as his fiddle bow caressed the strings to tunes like “Billy in The Low Ground,” “Sally Goodin,” and “Uncle Penn” come to life.Avery, who long-since retired from work both public and private, was simply content to enjoy day-to-day life with his only love, Mary Dean Lee Avery in their quaint home in Hamilton, Alabama.But ever so often, someone like Eugene Taylor, another Hamilton fiddler, years younger than Austin, will drop by for a Saturday evening jam session in Austin’s living room.Granted, Austin would not have made his home in Hamilton if with his talent for fiddling, he would have made a good living in the early 50’s playing with bands at state fairs and rural concerts. And possibly tasted fame in Nashville as a solo artist.But he made a sacrificial choice between pursuing his dream of fame in fiddling or just working to see that his family’s needs were met and to make sure his children were raised right before they left home for lives of their own.Austin seen his share of trouble and adversity in his 89 years of living and he has enjoyed numerous days with joyful events, but one thing has remained a constant in Austin Avery’s life: his fiddle playing.I say, with all love and respect, that I watched Austin’s life over the past 89 years and how he slowed down on doing some things that we all take for granted.That’s how life is. I should know Austin well.Austin is my dad.And I am proud of him.Austin left us on September 25, 2006 and he left me with one question: How do you properly say farewell to a legend?You don’t.If you have any sense, you will learn to appreciate them while they travel through your life.Because legends are like shadows, they are here and gone before you know it.
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Anthony: Please do not be angry. I beg you. I was searching for my mother's birthday. I was curious as to when she was born. I used Google and saw this post and after looking at it, I was very moved. Thanks so much. Pam and me STILL love you and yours. That is the truth no matter what life is. I appreciate you doing this. Kenny and Pam
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