We were lucky to catch up with Tom Letson recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Tom thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Can you share a story about the kindest thing someone has done for you and why it mattered so much or was so meaningful to you?

Well I’ve had a lot of kindness sent my way over the years, so it’s hard to narrow it down. However, since this interview is related to my work as a musician, and since my work as a musician started out as a hitchhiking, train hopping, busker, there’s one story that comes to mind. Let’s see if I can paint a little backstory to it…

It was the middle of the night, and I had caught a ride into Lawrence, KS a few hours prior. I had been walking around in the rain for miles trying to find a quiet place to sleep. There was a bridge along the interstate, which seemed like the perfect place since I could take cover underneath it as well. When I got there, it had already been taken by someone who started screaming at either me or themself from the dark rafters. I didn’t feel too welcomed, and pretty startled, so quickly moved on. I started walking down the highway until I was too exhausted, and just laid down in the grass off the side of the road. I remember laying there for hours attempting to sleep that night, but don’t remember actually getting any shut eye. If you’ve ever been to Kansas in the summer, you may know that the heat & humidity can be pretty unbearable. Especially beside a boggy cow pasture (which I didn’t realize until morning). On top of that, the mosquitoes were absolutely relentless. I didn’t have a tent in those days, so all night I was pulling my sleeping bag over my face trying to cover up every inch of myself from the blood suckers. Then I’d have to pull it back down when I couldn’t deal with the sweaty heat & humidity any longer. It was like a form of torture. Finally, somewhere around 4 in the morning I had had enough, and started walking down the interstate.

I had no real idea where I was heading. As Far East as I could get from the situation. I hadn’t even stuck out my thumb because it was dusk, and I figured no one would want to pick up some creepy homeless dude in the dark. Within like five minutes however, this little beater car pulled over. Inside there was a tiny, pale, red headed woman (which I was shocked since it was pretty uncommon to be picked up by women even when I was intentionally hitchhiking) wearing a zebra print dress. In a hardened voice she asked if I could use a ride.  She made sure to flash her little pistol at me so I knew she had it. She was heading down the road to Kansas City, so I hopped in. She introduced herself as she was ripping open her dashboard to pull out a pipe. Her name was Harper, and she had just gotten off her shift at the strip club. She had lots of entertaining stories. I specifically remember one involving a guy with a foot fetish who would pay $200 to eat spaghetti off her feet.

After a while, she decided to stop off at a Wal-Mart. As she was doing her shopping I went and cleaned up in the bathroom. I was still so exhausted, and may have even dozed off for a few minutes on a bench outside. When I woke up I went to find her, and sort of just followed her around the store like a kid with his mom. I guess she must have noticed my torn up, soaking wet canvas sneakers and decided she was going to buy me a new pair. She picked out a pair of black and blue Nike running shoes in my size. I remember putting those on for the first time, and feeling like I was walking on clouds compared to what I was used to. I think I just about walked the soles off those shoes sometime after. She started tossing a bunch of food in the grocery cart for me as well.

We finally got back on the road, and finished the trip to Kansas City. As she parked in front of the Greyhound station she said, “take this,” and started handing me some money. Then she basically dumped her whole wallet out on my lap. It was mostly dollar bills as you could imagine… She told me to reach out to her if I ever needed anything, and wrote down her email address. It read [email protected]. We gave our goodbyes, and that was that.

She really left an impression on me. While living on the road I always noticed that the people who appeared to have the least usually had the most to give. I never did reach back out to her, but it crosses my mind from time to time. At least to let her know that her generosity didn’t go unnoticed.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My name’s Tom Letson. I’m a musician and visual artist. These have been my creative and personal outlets for as long as I can remember. I’m a singer-songwriter as well as an interpreter of old-time Appalachian and Piedmont styles of music. I mainly play a National Collegian single cone resonator guitar, and a 1914 Vega Little Wonder openback banjo.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

I think that being a creative can be a very isolating journey because oftentimes, artists live on the fringes of society.  If there’s something for non-creatives to take away, it’s that being poor or not having a steady job doesn’t make us lazy. Most of us work very hard at what we do, which is usually extremely undervalued in the economic structure. Being an artist is a hustle, but it is also a way of life that many cannot live without. I know personally I fall in and out of depression, as most people do, but creating things that are fulfilling to myself and others is the best way I’ve found to balance my mental health. It’s a means of communication that allows for connecting with those around us. For an introverted/socially anxious person, that’s huge!

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

As I mentioned previously, I think that creatives (in general) are extremely undervalued. In a “thriving ecosystem” where most industries (minus maybe agriculture) are able to fairly pay their employees, then why is it so hard for working artists to make a living wage? Obviously there are a handful of exceptions in the arts who are making absurd amounts of money, but most artists I know are not trying to be rich. They just want to pursue the craft that they’ve spent their entire lives honing, and not be broke all the time. And let’s face it… the world would be a pretty dull place without things like music, art, poetry, literature. I think of my work in the arts as labor, and that we need a solution that compensates the labor equal to any trade. If that means socialism then personally I don’t have much to lose.

As for the everyday person I would say to try and pay more attention to your local creatives. You don’t have to sell out stadiums to be a great musician, and you don’t have to be dead to be a great artist. You are the support, and you may even come across something you really enjoy.

Contact Info:

• Website: longgonetom.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/longgonetomletson
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LongGoneTom

Image Credits
Ariel Rolfe