Soundtrack of my life: “The Weight” is on all of us

“The Weight,” a song written by Robbie Robertson, lead guitarist of The Band, has been covered by many artists. But it’s only right that The Band has the best and most powerful version of the song.

It first was first recorded on the group’s brilliant debut album, Music from Big Pink, released in 1968. And its most memorable version of the song, in my humble opinion, is included on the best concert film ever made – Martin Scorsese’s transcendent, mesmerizing The Last Waltz, filmed primarily during The Band’s farewell concert in 1976.

Don’t ask me what the song is about. Even Robertson’s explanation of its origins is hazy and obscure. It’s a first-person account of a visit to a town called Nazareth, a place he identifies as Nazareth, Penn., home of Martin Guitars, whose instruments arguably created the sound foundation of rock music.

“The Weight” is a haunting song – heavily influenced, according to Roberson, by the experiences of The Band’s drummer, the late, great Levon Helms, a native of a rural Arkansas burg called Turkey Scratch. Some consider it a country song, which of course it is. But it is also a rock anthem, The Band’s best-known song, even though it was never a successful single.

I heard it again tonight, sitting on my patio as I watched a thunderstorm sweep in from the south. I was struck, as I always am, by its sense of yearning, its aching search for a haven from the storm, its desperate need for connection and kinship.

In these desperate days – as the agony of Ukraine plays out on our TV screens and in our internet feeds – it resonates even more powerfully. But maybe that’s just me.

I pulled into Nazareth, 

Was feeling 'bout half past dead.

I just need someplace

Where I can lay my head.

'Mister can you tell me where a man might find a bed?'
He just grinned and shook my hand, and ‘No’ was all he said.

Take a load off Fanny,
Take a load for free.
Take a load off Fanny,

And you put the load right on me.” 

THE BAND: The Weight, from the movie THE LAST WALTZ - YouTube

Honoring Brent Renaud, a journalist killed in Ukraine

 

Brent Renaud

My heart is heavy tonight at the news that an American journalist, documentary filmmaker Brent Renaud, has been killed outside the Ukrainian capital city of Kyiv.

 Renaud, 50, worked with his brother, Craig Renaud, on award-winning video journalism and documentary filmmaking projects for HBO, Vice and other major international news organizations.

At the time of his death, he was wearing a NYT news badge. But the Times, while praising his character, dedication and professionalism, said he was not affiliated with the organization when he was killed.

According to Time magazine, he currently was working on a project for the company on the global refugee crisis.

Working with his brother, Craig, Renaud won a Peabody award for a Vice News documentary about a school in Chicago, among several other accolades that included two Overseas Press Club awards and two duPont-Columbia University awards.

His death is a reminder that a free and open flow of information, the very lifeblood of any democracy, sometimes comes at a terrible cost to those who strive to deliver it.

It is worth remembering that Russian dictator Vladimir Putin has moved to deny his own people the right to know what is really transpiring as a result of his murderous invasion of the independent – and, lest we forget it, democratic – Ukraine.

And it comes at a time in our own country when journalists working to provide the American people with accurate and balanced information are under relentless attack by those under the thrall of would-be authoritarian Donald Trump and by a political party frightened into subservience to him. Their contempt for reputable news organizations is unrelenting – and politically motivated to hide an insidious and destructive assault on the foundations of American democracy.

For 15 years, I worked on the International desk of The Dallas Morning News and supervised reporters who regularly were sent to what euphemistically are known as conflict zones – in other words, places where they could get killed as they worked to provide DMN readers an accurate and understandable picture of what was happening.

Thanks be to God, none were hurt in the process. My consistent message to them all was this: “Don’t be a hero. No story is worth getting killed over.”

 But knowing them as I did, I know they took chances – calculated risks to go where they needed to fulfill their obligations to meet their professional responsibilities. Some they told me about. Others they kept to themselves.

 I’m quite sure Brent Renaud had contemplated the risks he faced in being in the chaotic and deadly place where he met his end. He was experienced and smart and courageous. Unfortunately, he miscalculated and paid the price.

 He did it because he believed that freedom of information was worth the risk. I honor him for his dedication and for the ultimate sacrifice he made.

Not all reporters face the same desperate choices that Renaud did. Not all put their lives on the line every day so you can know what is happening in the world in which you live and work and play. But they all are laboring under terrible pressures and often in difficult circumstances. They are doing it for me – and for you.

Trust me, it’s not for the money or the fame. These days, those are in pitifully short supply.