Book Review

On the Bus with Bill Monroe: My Five-Year Ride with the Father of Bluegrass

The first thing I’ll say about Mark Hembree’s 200-page memoir of his time as a Bluegrass Boy is this…I wish it had been 400. Is it flawless? No, but it comes closer than any book on Bill Monroe/Bluegrass that I have read.

There is such a great amount of biographical material about Monroe (Kenny Baker, too) that one could imagine the book being classified as a Monroe biography. And some of the information is of the never-heard-before type.

For example, on page 57-58, Hembree sheds light on Monroe and alcohol, “…he’s pretty much a teetotaler who will nurse a half glass of wine all night.” And “He had some homemade wine, which is the type he liked best, the sweeter the better, and he was passing it out in little Dixie cups.”

Hearsay about Monroe over the years had led me to believe he never drank and was virulently anti-drunkenness. That he took a half glass of wine doesn’t ruin my estimation of him; it makes him human, similar to the way Richard Smith’s Can’t You Hear Me Callin’ did.

And then there’s the story about the ambulance to and from a gig. I am thankful for Hembree’s clarification on that episode. I had read or heard that it was after a heart attack; now I know it was a ruptured bladder.

One story after another, Hembree enlightens his reader about the legend of Bill Monroe. He witnessed these first-hand, and there is no reason to disbelieve.

Tales of baseball, tales from Israel and Ireland, tales about performances. On and on, this author shares with us, even some private details perhaps better left untold.

Some of my favorite parts of the book dealt with his time at Bean Blossom. The story of Shorty Hancock almost burning down the music barn was definitely a highlight (p. 125). Hembree’s last day with Monroe was at Bean Blossom, and he reminisces that “I think of it as the place where I first realized I could play music for a living” (p. 183).

I was fascinated, too, by Wayne Lewis particulars. I’ve known Wayne for nigh on 25 years now, interviewed him in ‘03 for my Bluegrass Connections column, and have a great respect for his contributions, not just as a Bluegrass Boy, but also, to the music in general.

A critic can’t review any book without touching on the writer’s craft. Mark Hembree’s writing is exceptional, honed by years of writing and editing after leaving bluegrass in 1988 due to a bus wreck.

His style is fluid; it flows smoothly. His diction is at times poetic. I would think he very well could have written a book of poetry. The chronological organization of the book with sections and chapters makes it easy to follow.

Thematically, this book shines. Whether the author is developing the theme of overcoming adversity or self-discovery or change-vs-tradition, he succeeds.

Chapter 36, “The Accidental Road Manager,” served for me as proof that he had overcome the trials he faced when he first joined the band. On p . 102 he talks about how he finally considered himself a friend of Bill Monroe.

I’ve bragged on the book’s positives. Now, to the negatives, if they can be called that. Some readers certainly won’t think so.

Personally, I didn’t care for the profanity. Admittedly, it does add color to the stories and realism to the people, so I understand why it’s there. Parents should know, though, before letting your younger kids read On the Bus with Bill Monroe, there are numerous “g-d-“ and “f” bombs.

The only other criticism I can level at Hembree is personal in nature as well. He spends a considerable word count on southern language and culture. To a certain extent that is necessary since he was coming from the north into the south and that can be a difficult transition.

But there were moments when I perceived a slight hint of making fun of us southern folks. Could there have been some prejudice on Hembree’s part. Maybe, maybe not, but if I perceived it, others probably could, too.

One example of this I found on p. 26. where Hembree talks about how glad he was when Blake Williams joined the band. He writes, “It was great to have a contemporary (he’s a year younger than me), as well as someone who was part of the southern culture yet articulate and forthcoming.” Southern culture yet articulate?

A reader could interpret that to mean Hembree thinks southerners don’t speak well. Even worse, some might feel that Hembree thinks that being from the north means you can speak better. If this is the case, then, yes, prejudice is there.

Judging by the way Monroe and some of the Bluegrass Boys poked at him, the young Hembree probably felt he was the victim of prejudice as well. Was it all just good-natured ribbing? They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I would add that the eye beholds ugliness as well.

In conclusion, I wish I had read On the Bus with Bill Monroe sooner because Mark Hembree has written a gem. Certainly all bluegrassers should read it, but I wouldn’t stop there. Readers of all sorts will find the humor, the drama, the history, and the eloquent writing a treat.