My father was a wildfire. Really. Nobody could save him from anything. His family turned away from him, and he broke up with his first wife. It just happened to be that when he was going to get back up on his feet, my mother was there.

Well, my parents were sort of packrats. They never threw anything away and, all through their time together, they stored away various things in a vault.

My father was a very prolific writer and he left behind a huge body of unpublished work.

I think if my father was a truck driver, I would have wanted to share the beauty that was there. He just happens to be Johnny Cash.

My father was a great outdoorsman. From when I was about six we would spend countless hours together in the woods or on a lake. He taught me how to skin a rabbit and pluck a wild turkey. He showed me there is much more to nature than we can ever understand.