Song: Lawn Too Steep to Mow

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This is a song about mowing the grass. It’s also a song about growing up at the top of the river bluff in Fort Madison, Iowa. (Recorded live in a small room: guitar, vocals, harmonica.)

Lawn Too Steep to Mow by Don Ray and CJ Roffis

teenaged boy in tennis shoes
riding a bicycle delivering the news
riding the bench on the basketball team
riding the bench on the dating scene

living my life on top of this hill
I got talent I got skill
when I set my foot I don’t ever slip
when I close my hand I don’t lose my grip

and I am the one who mows the lawn too steep to mow 
I am the one who mows  (2X)

Mr. Wilson eighty years old
Mr. Sanner heart of gold
Hot Rod was a drinking man
yellowed eyes big strong hands

up and down and across the grade
river bluffs Mississippi made
and I’m just an ordinary skinny white kid
trying to do what they all did

and I am the one who mows the lawn too steep to mow
I am the one who mows  (2X)

I would not bet a nickel on your Cub Cadet
I wouldn’t trust a Walker and I wouldn’t trust a Grasshopper
you’re going to need some fixin' if you try it on a Dixon
and you won’t get near to here on your big John Deere
no you won't get near to here on your big John Deere

(Repeat 2nd Stanza)

and I am the one who mows the lawn too steep to mow
I am the one who mows  (2X)
I am I am yes I am...
I am who I am...
The view from my street. In the foreground is one of the steep, grassy areas that somebody had to mow with a push lawnmower. In the distance, the Mississippi River, the Santa Fe Railroad Bridge, and the large white “dot,” symbol of the Sheaffer Pen Company. My newspaper delivery routes covered all the houses seen in the photo. (Photo early 1980s.)

About the Song

The song began as a small poem by a friend, CJ Roffis. One line really struck me: “I am the one who mows the lawn too steep to mow.” It struck me because that was me growing up in Fort Madison. I took CJ’s idea (with permission) and added some more lyrics. The map below illustrates topics in the song: the river bluff, my paper routes, and some of my Black neighbors — Mr. Wilson, Mr. Sanner, and Hot Rod. The first two men mowed their own large, hillside yards. Hot Rod did mowing and other odd jobs for money. The historically Black Neighborhood marked on the map was comprised of the last portion of 2 dead-end streets: Avenue C and C Alley. When I was growing up, there were as many as 10 houses in that area, and all the residents were Black and most of them elderly. They were all customers on my paper route.

Legend:
Bluff (Green Shaded)
Black Neighborhood (Gray Shaded)
Afternoon Paper Route (Orange Line)
Early Morning Paper Route (Blue Line)
Specific Houses (Red Marker)

Supplementary Photographs

Here I am at about age 12 (not quite a teenager) with the strap of my newspaper bag slung over my shoulder. This was at the next door neighbor’s house. She evidently snapped a Polaroid photo and gave it to me. (Photo from around 1973.)
The “lawn too steep to mow” at our house, where I first developed my skills. The method was to lower the lawnmower down the steep bank with a rope, then walk backwards to haul it back up. This photo is from around 1990 when I converted the lawn to a landscape of low-growing junipers and other shrubs.
The view from the front yard of our house at the top of the bluff. The east end of Fort Madison is about 4 or 5 blocks wide — squeezed in between the Mississippi River and the steep bluff. Across the mile-wide river are the corresponding bluffs on the Illinois side. This looks like early fall, with the trees in the town below beginning to take on fall color.
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