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"No one articulates this isolation more plainly than James “Son Ford” Thomas, who was a gravedigger by trade, striving to work as fast as the one-armed uncle who had got him the job and thinking long and hard on the vast differences in the monuments to the dead. Standing in a cemetery in a conversation recorded in 1974, he tells Ferris: “They might remember you, but not me.” He doesn’t have the money, he says. “They’ll throw up a tin marker on my grave with my name that will last about three weeks. Then it’s gone.” Thomas would later travel the country performing with Ferris, meet and talk songwriting with Allen Ginsberg, and have art exhibits of his “sculpturing”. Through the recordings, he has been made immortal." - from The Guardian
