Since he died, a minor hit when I was in grade school has been looping nonstop through my head: Joe South’s “Don’t It Make You Wanna Go Home.” Especially the very end: Now, the grass don’t grow and the river don’t flow/Like it did in my childhood days/Don’t it make you wanna go home now, don’t it make you wanna go home/All God’s children get weary when they roam/Oh God, how I wanna go home.

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