Hillbilly Elegy

things, Papaw buried his head in his
hands and did something Uncle Jimmy
had never seen him do: He wept. “I’ve
failed her,” he cried. He kept on
repeating, “I’ve failed her; I’ve failed
her; I’ve failed my baby girl.”
Papaw’s rare breakdown strikes at
the heart of an important question for
hillbillies like me: How much of our
lives, good and bad, should we credit to
our personal decisions, and how much is
just the inheritance of our culture, our
families, and our parents who have
failed their children? How much is
Mom’s life her own fault? Where does
blame stop and sympathy begin?
All of us have opinions. Uncle