Hillbilly Heart

by Billy Ray Cyrus

  It was my darkest hour. I felt sick 24 / 7. I didn’t eat. The painkillers couldn’t ease the pain, and the sleeping pills couldn’t put me to sleep. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I stalked the woods, built fires, and stared into space, thinking about what I could have done differently as a parent and a husband.

  On November 23, Miley celebrated her eighteenth birthday at a bar in Los Angeles. Days later, a video of her with a bong appeared on the Internet, and within seconds it appeared at the top of every celebrity website and blog in the world.

  Miley proclaimed her innocence. She said she had been smoking salvia, a legal herb in California. Publicly and privately, it upset everyone involved, from Miley to us, her parents. The folks at Disney were incensed. It didn’t matter whether the video was stolen from a friend’s phone or whether it was the stupidity of teenagers pressing SEND before they thought of the ramifications. We had to do something. But I felt helpless.

  I chose to step out front, and go on offense. I took to Twitter, my first mistake. “Sorry, guys. I had no idea,” I tweeted. “Just saw this stuff for the first time myself. I’m so sad.” Then, just because I wanted to get my side out, I added, “There is much beyond my control right now.”

  I felt bad for Miley, but I felt even worse for all those kids who looked up to her and loved her so much. I knew their hearts were broken, as was mine. Everyone got hurt. Once again, it was a bloodbath of emotion. But quite frankly, I do realize also that I’d done some things when I was her age. If I’d been famous and the Internet had existed, I probably would have gone to prison, and possibly still be there.

  In the midst of that despair, I let a reporter from GQ magazine come to the house. Mistake number two. It was a bad idea perfectly executed. Let me explain: A new album was supposed to come out; it didn’t. But by then, I ended up giving a very bleak and damaging interview. In short, I blamed Disney and Hannah Montana for ruining my family. I didn’t mean it. Nor did I realize what I was saying at the time. But by the time that article appeared, it was too late.

  And I still had to get through the holidays. My brother and my mom visited me at the house. Otherwise I spent them with my attorney, my accountant, and my dogs. At one point, I buried my head in my hands and muttered, “This is not how the story goes.”

  In short, I wanted the family to heal. I wanted the hurt to stop.

  Here’s the reality: I could have walked away from the marriage and everyone would have been fine—fine in terms of having enough money to live, eat, and continue life comfortably. But I was from a broken home, and that was not what I wanted for my children or my family. That’s not what daddies do.

  Daddies stay by your side. They shelter you from the storm. They ease your pain. They don’t give up on their family.

  If I had learned anything from my years of studying the habits and philosophies of successful people, it was this: every goal, every dream, begins with desire. After that, it’s about taking the steps to make that desire a reality. I knew that every monumental task begins with a first step. For us, it was a phone call, then a talk, then Tish told me a story she’d read about redemption. As I broke that word down, something about its root, redeem, stuck in my head and rang true in my heart. I wanted to put the family back together, and I wanted us to heal.

  In January 2011, Tish and I went to a movie near our home in Toluca Lake. Brandi and Braison joined us. We didn’t care if we were spotted out together, which we were. We ignored the circus. We were patching things up and in that place couples go where walls can crumble all around and you don’t notice. In early March, Tish went on Facebook and posted a bunch of family photos, including one of us in a passionate embrace. I loved it. The shot could have been taken ten years earlier. In fact, it had been taken only a few days before. Our feelings for each other were deep and strong. I was so gratified we hadn’t given up.

  The truth is always in front of us provided we open our eyes, and so it was with me. “All this time I was chasing after dreams,” I had sung on the song “Back to Tennessee.” “It was right in front of me. I was lost without her.”

  The next day I began what my manager Stuart Dill referred to as the Apology Tour. The GQ story had come out and I needed to make amends for the statements I’d made about Disney in print. We met at Stuart’s office. I situated myself behind his desk. One by one, he dialed studio executives and I explained that I had spoken without thinking during a difficult time for me. I made it clear I was proud of Hannah Montana and grateful for all the opportunities it had provided my family. I was there for quite a while.

  My mood was good and confident a few days later when I appeared on The View. I was in New York City, promoting my latest album, I’m American. It was finally available five months after its original release date. I performed my single “Runway Lights,” as arranged, but I had a surprise for Whoopi Goldberg, Joy Behar, and the others during the question-and-answer segment on the couch.

  Knowing they were going to address my recent troubles, I decided to play offense instead of defense. When they brought up my marriage, I revealed that I’d withdrawn my divorce papers. It was the first anyone outside of my immediate family heard that news, and I could see the surprise on their faces. I think Joy said, “Really?” and I confirmed it with a nod of my head.

  “I’m not divorced,” I said. “I dropped the divorce. I wanted to put my family back together.”

  What viewers couldn’t see was the executive producer’s jaw drop. As the ladies kept up conversation, he sprinted backstage to where my manager was watching and asked if I’d really withdrawn the papers. Stuart said he was hearing the news for the first time, too. The producer raced back to the stage and instructed his hosts to keep asking me questions. It was great TV for them. For me, once again, my life was playing out on the world stage.

  I covered my relationship with Tish and the family (“the best it’s ever been”), Miley (“we’re the daddy and daughter we were before Hannah Montana”), and fatherhood (“I wish there was a manual on how to be the perfect dad. I think what’s obvious is if there is, I didn’t read it”). Tish offered her support on Facebook. “Hope everyone got to see Billy Ray on The View today,” she wrote.

  “Big thanks to all of our family, friends, and fans who have kept us in their thoughts and prayers,” she added. “Our family weathered a huge storm and I feel we are stronger than we have ever been!”

  I felt the same way. I learned that the most meaningful things in life are the ones you have to work the hardest for. I had always known that. I knew life was about sacrifice. And that night, in my room at the Trump Soho, in New York City, I wrote the song that says it all for me, “That’s What Daddies Do.”

  I was just a young boy

  The day I learned to ride my bike

  I asked daddy are you sure if you let go

  I’m gonna be alright

  He said trust yourself my boy

  Keep your faith and know that dreams can still come true

  And know I’m her to catch your fall

  ’Cause that’s what daddy’s do

  That’s what daddy’s do

  They shield you from the rain

  Shelter in the storm

  There to ease your pain

  Wherever you may roam

  What you’re going through

  Know I’m by your side

  ’Cause that’s what daddy’s do

  Now that I’m a grown man

  With my own family

  Pictures of my daddy on the wall

  Of that fade memories

  I can still see him standing there

  The day he read the doctor’s news

  Though he tried to hide his pain

  He smiled and said, Son that’s what daddy’s do

  That’s what daddy’s do

  They shield you from the rain

  Shelter in the storm

  There to ease your pain

  Wherever you may roam

  What you’re going
through

  Know I’m by your side

  ’Cause that’s what daddy’s do

  Yeah, know I’m by your side

  ’Cause that’s what daddy’s do

  CHAPTER 33

  Hillbilly Heart

  LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, MY life is a work in progress. All of us have problems. None of us know all the answers. We try to fit the pieces together, if we can even find those pieces. Good or bad, it’s always something. With me, I try not to be my own biggest obstacle. I’m at my best when I think less about how I’m doing and focus instead on my original mission, using my music to share God’s light and love.

  The music is still the best definition of who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m going. Consider the honesty in “Hillbilly Heart.” I think it’s as true to my musical roots, influences, and my personal attitude as if I was looking in a mirror and seeing my reflection. The lines on my face, the scars on my body, the sincerity in my eyes… It’s all still there, a window into my soul. “Hillbilly Heart” is a picture of who I am, past, present, and future.

  I was born in the holler

  Down among the hills

  Never had a lot of luck

  But Lord, I had some thrills

  Keepin’ it country

  Keepin’ it country all the time

  Country is as country does

  Country is what country loves

  [BREAK]

  Walkin’ by the river

  Down along the tracks

  Always tried to look ahead

  But Lord I love lookin’ back

  Keepin’ it country

  Keepin’ it country all the time

  Well, I’ve been this way from the start

  I’ve got a hillbilly heart

  [BREAK]

  Lord I love the guitar

  Love to hear it loud

  If you don’t like what you hear

  You should leave this crowd

  Keepin’ it country

  Keepin’ it country all the time

  This southern twang here is my art

  I got a hillbilly heart

  [BREAK]

  I love my truck

  Love to drive it fast

  If you don’t like the way I drive

  You can kiss my ass

  I’m keepin’ it country

  Keepin’ it country all the time

  You can change every part

  Except my hillbilly heart

  [BREAK]

  ’Cuz I’ve been this way from the start

  I’ve got a hillbilly heart

  [END]

  In June 2012, I was arranging to release my song “That’s What Daddys Do” online as a free download on Father’s Day. I had supposedly retired from making albums, but who was I kidding? I’m a singer-songwriter from Flatwoods, Kentucky; this is what I was born to do. I wanted to give something to the fans, many of whom had not only supported me the past twenty years, but had grown up with me and were now raising families. Giving them a song was one little way I could say thank you.

  Then Miley burst through the kitchen door, her legs and arms and hair flying in every direction just like it did when she was a little kid. “Daddy!” she screamed. “Dad!”

  A moment later, she wrapped her arms around me and stuck her finger in front of my face. I was staring at a diamond ring—a pretty sizable chunk of diamond, too.

  “I’m engaged!” she said. “Liam asked me to get married.”

  Liam followed her into the room, and Tish was not far behind. All of us hugged and smiled. I was even happier because they had recently come down from Miley’s house in the hills and moved into our old house, which Tish and I had recently vacated for a smaller, cozier place around the corner that had previously belonged to Miley. Basically, we traded.

  Although we weren’t sure when young Mr. Hemsworth was going to pop the question, Tish and I both knew it was on the horizon. He had come to us and said, “I’m getting ready to ask Miley to marry me. What do you think?” At nineteen, Miley was young. But she had an old soul. She’d seen a lot and grown up fast. And she sure did seem happy around Liam.

  I’d had a good feeling about Liam from the first time I laid eyes on him—and that was before Miley saw him on the set of The Last Song. Tish was working with a casting company to find the male lead for the movie, and they were down to three or four contenders when I looked through a stack of pictures and pulled out Liam’s photo.

  “I could see that guy being her boyfriend,” I said.

  Tish looked up at me.

  “Wow, me too,” she said. “But he’s not one of the finalists, and I don’t want to cause a stir with these people.”

  “Hey, you’re a producer on this movie, right?” I said. “If you feel like that, voice your opinion.”

  She did. Then they brought in Liam, and everybody fell in love with him, including Miley. He was from a part of Australia that reminded me of eastern Kentucky… in a way. He and his brother, Chris, are talented actors, and his family are good people. Most important, Miley and Liam have a lot of fun together, and they’re good friends.

  So when Liam asked if he could marry my daughter, I gave the only response that made sense. I said, “Can you get me in one of your brother’s movies?”

  Hey, it was only a joke. Of course, in a more serious tone, I said the truth: “Sure, it’s cool with me… if it’s cool with her. Miley’s the boss. You know that. Hey, but make me one promise. You guys be good to each other… and don’t ever stop being best friends.”

  A few days later, Brandi came to me with boyfriend trouble. Then Braison had to be rushed to the emergency room after his tonsils burst while he was asleep. I heard him choking—on his blood, it turned out—and woke him up. The doctor said it was a freakish occurrence that could have killed him. It was always something. Tish and I knew neither of us could have managed our brood alone. I promised her a nice porch and a rocker for our old age if we survived our kids.

  History had proven our durability. More than twenty years after “Achy Breaky Heart” became a monster hit and catapulted me into the limelight, I was still going strong. In late 2012, I released my thirteenth album, Change My Mind, and made my Broadway debut as Billy Flynn in the award-winning play Chicago. I know what you’re thinking right now. Broadway? How does a hillbilly like you end up on Broadway?

  Well, I wanted to become a better actor and learn something new. I had never challenged myself to discover all I could about acting, not just being a personality on the screen, but being an artist. Going to Broadway was definitely a way to climb the ladder and acquire new skills.

  But what I really learned was: never underestimate life. Instead, expect the unexpected. I went to New York thinking it was about me. I’m going to be a Broadway star. I’m going to learn this. I’m going to do that. Then Hurricane Sandy hit and everything changed.

  What I learned was what I already knew. It wasn’t about me. God had put me right where I was supposed to be—in the eye of the storm. I was there in the darkness to represent his light and his love, striving for purpose to find a moral to the story.

  Where do I go from here? What’s my next chapter? I wish I had an answer. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s better not knowing all the answers, not understanding everything, and enjoying the mystery of tomorrow. The only thing I do know is, I don’t know nothing. I play life the same way I play music. I play it by ear.

  What you are is God’s gift to you. What you do with yourself is your gift to God.

  — LEO BUSCAGLIA

  AFTERWORD

  “Forgot to Forget”

  LATE ONE AFTERNOON, SHORTLY before my dad got sick, the two of us sat in a couple of chairs I have on Spirit Mountain, about twenty yards from my teepee. The spot looks down on pastures and straight across the land that rises again into more tree-covered hills. Sitting there creates a mood and perspective perfect for sitting and thinking or talking and reflecting about life, and my dad and I were doing just that.

/>   Topics ranged from his horses to my travels and family. As we talked, the sun went down and the sky turned black, revealing billions of stars above us. Talking with my dad was one of my life’s greatest treasures. He was a great dad and a wise man who shared his knowledge generously. He didn’t look down on people, and he knew how to forgive mistakes.

  He was equally good when the conversation paused and there was just silence. He was the one who taught me that ninety percent of a conversation is listening. I remember the wind blowing through the trees and both of us leaning back and enjoying the sound.

  “Dad,” I said. “Let me ask you a question that I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

  “Sure, Bo,” he said.

  “Well, it’s like this. Do you really believe in heaven?”

  He turned to me with a troubled look in his eyes.

  “I mean if we do the right things with our life,” I continued, “and believe in Jesus, do we get there?”

  Instead of saying anything directly to me, he put his hand on my back, shut his eyes, and bowed his head.

  “Bo, we’re going to pray,” he said. “Heavenly Father, my son asked a question and needs an answer. If I heard him right, I want you to know that the fact he doesn’t know the answer, that he has any doubt, causes me a great pain.”

  I wanted to interrupt him and apologize, which I suppose my dad knew, because suddenly the arm he had placed on my back pulled me closer. My dad was holding me like he did when I was a boy and got lost in the woods that day. He wanted me to pay attention.

  “Mom and Dad,” he said, “if you are up there in heaven right now, will you please show my son a sign so he believes… Amen.”

  We opened our eyes, and as soon as we did, a bright light shot across the sky right in front of us. I swear it was like Halley’s comet… only bigger. It only lasted an instant. But both of us saw it. Neither of us said a word. I was about to say something, but then my dad started walking off into the darkness. I remembered what he had taught me long ago: sometimes silence speaks louder than words.