Mr. Keillor,
In the movie "Prairie Home Companion," are the "Johnson Sisters" taken from real life??

My Aunts Leona and Lois Johnson sang on WLW Radio in the 1940s and Leona named her daughter after her mother (my grandmother). Incidently, Leona Johnson married Chet Atkins. This could be a coincidence, I understand. Thanks for the information and incidently,
my daughter and I loved the movie!!

Nancy B.
Mason, OH

Nancy, I know your aunt Leona pretty well and have always teased her about coming on the show and singing a duet with me. Which she has always declined to do. She and her sister Lois, who was married to Jethro Burns, were a fine sister duet act, doing sentimental songs and novelty tunes, and when I came to write the screenplay for "A Prairie Home Companion," it occurred to me to put a sister duet in it and name them for Leona and Lois. I sort of thought of Meryl Streep as the Leona character amd so I gave my character a little wistful romance with her. Leona moved up to Chicago to tend to her sister when she was very sick and stayed until she died. That is the sort of family loyalty that you don't find too often. I haven't spoken to Leona lately, but I'm sure if she hears about the movie, she'll recognize the little tribute.

Post to the Host:
I've seen the movie twice, the second time last week with my two daughters, 16 and 24. Minutes into the movie, the 16-year-old was busily returning text messages to relieve her boredom. The 24-year-old seemed halfway interested. Then something happened. The song that Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin sang, "Goodbye to My Mama," caught us all by surprise, even me, though I had seen the movie the week before. This month is the 3rd anniversary of their mother's death from breast cancer after a valiant 6 year battle. After that song my 16-year-old actually paid attention to the rest of the movie. It meant a lot to me. Thank you. Do you ever think about the impact your comments have on people?

Jerry P.
Arlington, Texas

I think about it a lot, Jerry, usually in dread of boring people to death. I imagine standing on stage and pouring my heart out and kids in the audience text-messaging their friends, YOU CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT A SNOOZEFEST THIS IS. This past winter, I had many many such moments, teaching a course at the University. You stand up in front of 140 young people and you're dancing as fast as you can, being witty and bold, and you look back to the fifth row and there's a guy giving you that Look that says, Who are you and why are you saying such stupid things? It's disconcerting. But then I figure, hey, it's my job to keep going and it's their job to tune me out.

Dear Mr. Keillor:
Thank you for taking the time to meet with the audience after the Tanglewood performance on July 1st. I do have to ask though, why were there so many uniformed Berkshire County officers there? What were they afraid was going to happen? Plastic glasses of Chardonnay tossed at one another? The Great Granola war of 2006? Please enlighten me.

Very truly yours,
Maryanne W.-F.
Manchester CT

The only officer I encountered was the police chief of Stockbridge, a very funny guy named Wilcox (I think), who, when I asked him how long his family had lived out there, said, "We're not natives, but we stole our land from the natives." He's a wiry guy who enjoyed the commercial we did on the show for a doughnut holster for cops. As for other officers, maybe they were there to see the show, and maybe they hung around afterward because there was a traffic jam getting out and why sit in your car for an hour when you can be leaning around under the trees. Seriously, though, nobody tells me anything about security concerns. I am kept in the dark, like a small child.

Dear Mr. Keillor,
My mom was cleaning the garage Saturday, July 1, and came across a box that contained a wonderful photograph of my Dad. Pop passed away May 6 of this year (he was an ardent listner to Prairie Home Companion); and it was hard for all of our family as these things are. This photograph was one she and I had been looking for, for some time. Both my Dad and I were/are veterinarians. This photo showed him auscultating the chest of a small cat, while the wondering eyes of the owner's daughter watched; it was special. Saturday evening she tuned in, late in the program. Mom told me that she and dad had an agreement, that the first of them to pass on from this life would contact the other one with some sign that there was truely a hereafter. When my folks were in college at Auburn, their "song" was "What'll I Do." When she heard you and Ms. Streep singing "their song" and most especially after finding the photograph that morning, she knew that this was Pop's way of letting her know; she cried and so did I.

Regards,
Smokey P.
Charlotte, NC

Ms. Streep and I were happy to be the mediums, Dr. P. Thanks for letting us know.

Mr. Keillor,
I am 21 years old and have been listening to your show since I was in a car seat in the back of my parents' station wagon. I went through a period in my life when I thought public radio was dumb and fought my dad for the radio dial to turn your show off, and now I find I can't miss a show and NPR has become a fixed channel in my car. Please explain to me what happened, and why I think you're cool now.

Sarah D.
Eau Claire, WI

Life is a roller coaster and you go whooping around and tastes change and political opinions and that's just how it is, love.
We're restless seekers and searchers. You hear a song by a new group and suddenly you want to quit your job and follow them on tour. You find a new author who speaks directly to you and all the pale murmury authors fade into the woodwork. I'm awfully glad you like our show, and you're so darned sweet to say so, but every day we get letters from listeners who are fed up and done with us forever. Some horse's ass in Iowa City wrote a furious letter just the other day about how he would never listen to PHC again. Well, good. I'd rather have you. Meanwhile, we're on reruns this summer and trying to think about the new season and how to make it worth your while. I want to do a show devoted to stories. And do a whole show of dance music. And maybe a Guy Noir show. A feature length drama. And of course we'll do a joke show in the fall.

Dear Garrison,
Back in the day your show had Raoul's Warm Car Service as a sponsor. He hasn't been heard from in many years. Is that because he went out of business? If so, did that happen because of the invention of the self-starting engine or global warming? I'm leaning toward the global warming theory myself. Winters here in Minnesota are nothing like I remember from when I first moved here in the late 60s.

Audrey F.
Plymouth MN

Isn't that the truth. We get a few streaks of old-fashioned winter but then it fades into one of those brown spells, like they have in Missouri or Tennessee or D.C. What was the question? Oh. Right. Raoul left town, pursued by creditors, and took the warm car with him to Phoenix where he went into the detailing business. He's a big guy, black hair swept back, who carried many a client out of a house on a cold morning and put them in a warm car. He always carried the client, often wrapped up in a quilt, and had warm coffee or cocoa in the car, and he drove slowly, and you arrived at work or school feeling beloved. In St. Paul, we have Yellow Cab to carry us places in warm cars, and the drivers are friendly enough, but none has ever carried me to the car.