My mom was only 17 when I was born, and she left my dad a year later and went back to the farm. My maternal grandfather Joe Henry Greenwood managed the farm for the Bethesda Children’s Home. He’d been orphaned himself and grew into a role that fit
him perfectly.
It was pretty much an idyllic childhood. I was never short of company – orphanage kids would come chaperoned and stay on the farm for a couple weeks at a time. Mom and I lived there until 1968 when sadly grandpa was killed in a car wreck. After that, we had to move on.
Mom was a resourceful and determined woman, but she got caught up in a bad relationship while I was going through the turmoil of adolescence, and we parted unhappily. I stayed with my aunt for a while but that didn’t work out.
I learned so much from my grandpa – practical stuff about animals and machinery but also, crucially – songwriting. He had a four string guitar and would make up songs just for amusement’s sake – often humorous lyrics too. I got it all from him. My ambition was to get my songs cut by label-signed artists but despite my best efforts it never happened.
My buddies used to ridicule me about my schlepping round Music Row unsuccessfully hawking my songs to the publishers – they called me Nashville Phil and I eventually decided to own it. Nobody would hear my songs unless I performed them myself so I gave it a go. I’m not much of a singer and I’m not much of a guitar player either but it is what it is and I am what I am, so . . .
