THEY PACKED FIFTEEN HUNDRED PEOPLE INTO WOODLAWN FUNERAL HOME IN NASHVILLE. THE ROOM OVERFLOWED INTO THREE CHAPELS AND DOWN THE HALLWAY. HE HAD NEVER SOLD OUT A BUILDING THAT SIZE WHILE HE WAS ALIVE. Johnny Cash was there. Charley Pride. Roy Acuff. Eddy Arnold. Brenda Lee sang One Day at a Time. Then George Jones stood up. Mel Street had spent his whole career chasing that voice — a coal country kid from Grundy, Virginia, who worked as an electrician and an auto body mechanic before Nashville knew his name. Jones had written in Street’s own liner notes that he was one of only three male singers who could put real soul into a song. He never said who the other two were. At the funeral, Jones walked to the microphone and sang Amazing Grace. The idol, burying the man who had worshipped him. Street was 43. He had thirteen top-20 hits. Borrowed Angel reached No. 7 in 1972. Four more of his singles charted after he was gone, and in 1981 a greatest hits collection sold 400,000 copies off late-night television ads. More people bought his records after his death than during his life. He never got to hear that applause.
Mel Street and the Night Nashville Stood Still There are country music funerals, and then there are farewells that feel…