Archie, Poet of Parke County

Some days just can't be described in 300-500 words. In this post you will discover my "most unforgettable character."




Archie Foxworthy lives at the intersection of Serendipity and Supernatural. A hand-lettered sign urging travelers to detour for a two mile ride down a rural lane caught my eye. Actually, it was the “apple butter” scribbled across the top. I am a sucker for apple butter. The monks of Eagle Harbor, MI wooed me away from the main road with their promise of butter blessed by the Lord. And now Archie and his family beckon to me
Probably the Foxworthy name and questions about any possible connection to Jeff spurred me on, as well.
Immediately I knew something special was about to happen. The 1800s wooden schoolhouse had “Sales Room” on a thumbtacked sign, affixed to the open door. The darkness within put me off a bit, but I stepped up and into one of the most precious experiences of the entire trip.
Two men sat in chairs across from a rudely constructed counter. Boxes of jars lined the walls while a middle-aged woman stood silent. Awkwardly, I walked around surveying the produce and eager to find the apple butter. “Daddy is a poet,” she said.
Soon I found out that “Daddy” was Archie Foxworthy. “When I was born my folks was so poor they couldn’t afford a middle name, so I am just Archie from Parke County, Indiana . I make maple syrup and jams…and I write poems, mostly on the swing under that big tree over yonder.
How Dad would have loved Archie!
Well, all I had to do was ask a few questions and he was off and running. “I played the banjo in bands before I married Mama. We played in taverns and I learned lots during those days. But when I got married, I knew it wasn’t right to be in taverns no more….and my children wouldn’t be around – no, sir! So, just as soon as we married, I loosened the strings on the banjo and put it under the bed. I patted it and made a deal, “I won’t tell any stories if you won’t.” With that the banjo went into retirement.
About eleven years later a local group needed a banjo player and came knocking at Archie’s door. “I don’t know if I should or not.” The group had dates for the next two weeks and Mama liked the grocery money. “I will play until you find someone else. As soon as someone comes along then I will move along – no harm. Then I found out they never did look for nobody else!”
“You wanna hear a poem I wrote sitting in that swing under that big tree?” This seemed to be a safer question than asking if I liked old tractors!
Archie leaned back in his chair, pulled on his ear, and starting reciting with great wit and emotion. I don’t think Joyce Kilmer wrote any more poignantly about trees than did Archie.
I knew I was on holy ground…..

He told me about being asked to speak at a Mason’s meeting. “We will feed you and anyone who comes with you – and we will pay you $25.00. But we want you to speak for 30 minutes.”
Archie wasn’t sure he wanted to do that because he “never had done such a thing.” But again, Mama’s foresight and need for grocery money got him in front of the crowd. “I told ‘em something funny, ‘cuz folks always like to laugh. Then I just started talking. Whenever I thought they needed a poem I told ‘em one. They are all up in my head, so when I want one, I just pull on my ear and out one comes. I talked my thirty minutes I promised them. When I got ready to leave the man handed me some folded money. I just put it in my pocket. I didn’t count it or nothing. At home I remembered it and took it out of my pocket. Twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five….whoeee, they paid me $45.00….$1.50 a minute. I never got paid that much before or since….never in my life! Mama was really happy with the grocery money that day.”
How in the world could I leave this place? “Could I take your picture?” “Why, sure –be glad to. And if you buy my CD with my poems (pronounced pomes) on it, I will sign it and date it….yes, sir.” Archie was probably born at night, but surely not last night! I bet he sells a ton of those CDs.
“How about a poem that’s not on the CD?” “My Grandfather used to take me fishing and he would always talk to me. Archie, he would say, there is always a reason for everything. You might not know it right away, but there is always a reason.” I bet Archie never heard of John Calvin, and surely not the tenets of reformed theology, but he had a Grandfather who understood sovereignty.
“So, one day I was sitting in the swing and I got to thinking….why do I go to church every once in a while? I know there is a reason, but I just don’t know what it is. I thought and thought about it. Then I wrote a poem about it.”
After his recitation about why he went to church “every once in a while” we started talking about it. He figured the reason he went to church was because he liked to hear the “parson preach, and pray, and read the Bible about Judgment Day.”
“Archie, the great thing about “standing naked before God” (as his poem said) is when we are related to God through Jesus he doesn’t see us ----- He doesn’t listen to the banjo stories. Archie laughed!
“Could I pray with you before I go?” Unconsciously, I raised my hands in blessing and prayed for the Foxworthy family. While praying I felt Sherry’s hand grasp mine. I could have prayed and prayed!
“Come back and see us,” Archie said. “You don’t have to spend a dime, just spend some time.”
Sherry walked me to the car and her brother sat and repeatedly said, “Gollee” as we talked about driving from Dallas. He sounded just like Gomer Pyle. I expected him to break out into The Impossible Dream any minute!
Reluctantly, I got into the Cruiser, loaded down with jam jars and Archie’s CD. “Thank you for spending time with Daddy. Come back. I’m a born again Christian!”
How could anyone but the Most High plan such an amazing experience? They aren’t just a road trip memory ---- they permanently marked me.
God bless Archie Foxworthy and God bless the USA.