 as Billy Joel McAllister jumps off the Tallahatchie Bridge. Something's going wrong. Coming up on the Blue Ridge Mountains, somebody's on the phone. Three o'clock in the morning. Going from Tennessee through Kentucky, Pennsylvania's somber symphonies sigh like a moon tide swelling in the heart of the ocean. The shadow music of steel mills and coal mines and railroad tracks like an orchestra of cellos on the verge of tears and speech.