During the late 90s, while we were still in Fayetteville, North Carolina, I went through a phase where I listened to quite a bit of country music, and even watched CMT on the regular. At that time, my attention was captured by bands like BR5-49 and the (Dixie) Chicks, but most especially by a sarcastic rapscallion singing Right Man for the Job. He was a tall, handsome redhead with a cowboy drawl and an outlaw's twinkle in his eye. I started buying up any cd I could find with his name on it. I started listening to his brother's music, just because of the association.
I'd say it was early 2002, when I was living back in Ada, OK, that I acted way out of character, and went by myself to a concert. I hadn't really reconnected with anyone I'd known growing up who would have gone with me, so when Charlie Robison opened for Pat Greene in a field near Stillwater, I pushed down my anxiety and stood there alone to watch them. I elbowed my way towards the front, and stood maybe ten or fifteen feet from the stage. Totally worth it. Several months later, both acts played again as openers for the Chicks, one of whom had married Charlie. This time the whole family went, Mr S-P and our girls.
The next year, while the Mr was going through training in southwest Texas, I met him down there, and we went to a concert in Bandera, TX, in Charlie's home town. That summer had seen remarkable flooding around San Antonio, including up by Bandera. Charlie was doing a benefit concert at a dance hall for local people affected by the floods. He was late showing up, and once he arrived, he explained why. He had been coming across the swollen Medina river at a (usually) low-water crossing, from his ranch into town. The water was too high, and someone in front of him was stuck. He got out of his truck to help, and was swept off his feet in the racing Medina, landing hard on his elbow on a concrete piling. The elbow was shattered. He was late to the show because he was in the ER. He had to have his guitar tech play his parts, and for much of the show, he had to sit on a barstool, because the pain and painkillers made him shaky. He told us that his grandfather had taught him, when you give your word you would do something, you do it. Thus he was performing that night. I already liked him, but man, I loved him after that.
Years later, when we were in Clovis, NM, the town we called "Occupied West Texas," I learned that he was going to play at a dance hall/bar in Lubbock. That was our closest "big city," so naturally we went. The crowd was not quite as fun at this concert, but Charlie was still endearing, and I am very glad we went to see him one more time.
I used to follow him on Facebook, and watched him publicly go through a divorce, reeling period, and eventual remarriage. I didn't hear from him for a while, and then I saw he had some sort of medical issue that stole his singing voice away from him. He announced his retirement then, and that was the last post I ever saw. Today, the Oklahoma City TV station I follow announced that he died suddenly of a cardiac event, at the age of 59. That was much too young to lose a brilliant songwriter like Charlie. Do yourself a favor and go online to your favorite music source, and listen to a few of his tunes. That man had a hell of a way of looking at the world.
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