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Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light.
Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.

Thomas Dorsey's "Precious Lord" has been called "the greatest gospel song of all time." People around the world know it, sing it, and love it because of its profound message of hope and faith. Written in 1932, it continues to appeal deeply to new generations of listeners. Though composed by a young African American blues pianist, the song crosses the lines of race and culture. Everyone from gospel legend Mahalia Jackson to rock 'n' roll king Elvis Presley has recorded it.

Like so many great hymns of faith, the song was inspired by a horrific tragedy in the life of its composer. Thomas Andrew Dorsey was born in rural Georgia in 1899, the son of an itinerant preacher.

By age 12, Dorsey left school to become a professional pianist. He played at house parties throughout Atlanta's black districts.

In his early 20s, Dorsey settled in Chicago. There he played, sang, and published blues compositions under the name "Georgia Tom." Music critic Stephen Calt described Dorsey saying he "ranked as the most self-conscious, serious, and accomplished blues lyricist of his time."

In 1925 Dorsey married Nettie Harper. A year later, he experienced a nervous breakdown and was unable to work for two years. To survive, his wife took a job in a laundry to support them. At the urging of his sister-in-law, Dorsey attended a church service where he experienced a spiritual healing. That event, combined with the sudden death of a young neighbor, prompted Dorsey to commit himself more fully to God and Christian music. To mark his new life, he wrote his first gospel song, "If You See My Savior, Tell Him That You Saw Me."

In 1932 Dorsey accepted an invitation to become choir director of Chicago's Pilgrim Baptist Church, a position he would hold for nearly 40 years. As the Great Depression wore away at the spirits of Americans, Dorsey viewed his songwriting as an important ministry. He believed his songs "lifted people out of the muck and mire of poverty and gave them … hope."

In August of '32, Dorsey was scheduled to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting in St. Louis. At the time he and his wife were living in a little apartment on the South Side of Chicago. Nettie was pregnant with their first child. He kissed her goodbye and made his way to St. Louis for the revival. The next night, as soon as he finished playing, a Western Union messenger came up to the stage and gave Dorsey an urgent telegram. "I ripped open the envelope," he recounted later, "and pasted on the yellow sheet were the words: 'Your wife just died.'"

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