by Randy Willis

Willie Nelson, Lana Nelson, and Randy Willis. January 10, 1995. Luck, Texas.

INTRODUCTION

Over a decade ago, Johnny Rodriguez approached me about writing his biography. “I don’t write puff pieces,” I said.

“What do you mean by a puff piece?”

One that “paints” a story with only the good we’ve done. You know, John, I would have to write the ‘good, the bad, and the ugly.”‘ I clarified my misuse of the title of Clint Eastwood’s movie.

Now, granted, I would have reacted the same way if he had requested to write my memoir. I would not have wanted my faults enumerated. I suspect no single book could contain them. Every protagonist in literature should have faults unless it’s a character played by John Wayne. You can’t always wear the “white hat,” unless you’re one of my six grandchildren or the “Duke.”

If that were not enough, I added, “I would have to interview a few of your former girlfriends.” Believable biographies must have both sides of the story. I mentioned two previous fiancées and yes, his former wives as well. That nailed the coffin shut. He never asked again. I don’t blame him; I would have too.

By the way, they were and are all incredible women. However, I doubt that all of them would have agreed to an interview. Perhaps none of them. All of them are beautiful. Go figure. And exceptionally intelligent. Sadly, Robyn Bernard (died in 2024 at age 64) and Tricia Hernden (died in 2021 at age 56) died. I knew them both well.

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This story is about the first three decades of our friendship, give or take a year or two. It does not include our last three decades because that would be too long. Therefore, there is little about the latter three decades, although some stories overlapped.

One might think I’m unaware of those relationships or believe they are of lesser importance. That’s not true. Perhaps I will write a second volume. I doubt it.

Our communication during the last couple of years primarily consisted of texts. He liked to text. These texts often contain songs from various genres he loved. Few were country music. I recall one by Jackson Browne, who co-wrote “Take It Easy” with Glenn Frey, of The Eagles.

And an occasional phone call, like when he called me a couple of years ago. “Colonel, you will never guess where I am, P.F. Chang’s in Nashville.” I could hear his daughter, Aubry, in the background asking who he was speaking to. P.F. Chang’s in Austin was one of our favorite restaurants. Johnny remembered the simple things far more than his #1 hits. As always, he seldom spoke about negative things.

As his health declined, we communicated more and more by text. With his arthritis in his hands, I wondered how he could text so much. Perhaps they were voice-to-text; I never asked.

Let’s talk about the fun times!

The Eye of the Tiger

Today, I’m working on volume two of my memoir, To the Best of My Recollection. Like the cat in the photo, my image of myself is sure to be “off kilter.” As I write about Johnny, I’m sure to “miss the mark.” No one truly knows the heart of a man or woman except God.

I repeatedly use the singular first-person pronoun “I.” Daddy’s words ring in my ears: “Don’t think too highly of yourself.” Daddy could handle people of different faiths and politics, but not a braggart.

Mama never spoke of herself, always of others and the Lord.

Today, the world is full of braggadocio people. As a writer, I hope I don’t “fall into that trap,” like the cat that believes it is a tiger.

It Was the Best of Times

I once “pulled Johnny’s chain” by asking him why he was always dating blonds (which was not true). He had recently been upset. A magazine cover featured a picture of him and a blonde woman that the magazine claimed was his wife. She wasn’t. I could not let that go.

I added “Why don’t you date any Mexican girls? They would look better on that magazine cover than that blonde.”

That got him, “Colonel, I’ve dated a lot of Mexican girls.”

“No, you haven’t. I’ve never seen you with a girl who has a tan. ” I knew that would annoy him.

He looked at me as if to say, I get it. And then smiled.

Now, least, you think that was racist, you’re wrong. He was a master of pranks. He once called me and said, “I’m in jail, Colonel. Come and get me. Bring cash, lots of it.”

I was halfway between Austin and San Antonio, headed to the Bexar County Jail, when he called again. “I forgot to give you the Jailhouse Cafe’s address.”

“Why all the cash then?” I ask.

“You’re paying for dinner.”

Here is a photo at the Jailhouse Cafe that night. He paid for dinner. No one had a better smile.

Johnny Rodriguez and Randy Willis. The Jailhouse Cafe in San Antonio. He paid for dinner.

Johnny never blamed anyone except himself for any shortcomings. That was one of the many things that were good about him.

I then “waxed eloquent.” As a writer, I’ve been taught not to use adjectives or adverbs ending in “ly.” Adjectives like beautiful, handsome, great, fantastic, excellent, and incredible are overused. It’s best to let the reader come to their own conclusion, rather than a writer telling them what to think.

Mark Twain wrote, “When you catch an adjective, kill it.” Stephen King declared, “The road to hell is paved with adjectives.

Ernest Hemingway wrote, “[I was taught] to distrust adjectives.” He compared this to learning to distrust certain people in specific situations.

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I have met few people in my lifetime as humble as Johnny Rodriguez. That’s an adjective too, I know. When I am asked about his “faults,” my response is, “He almost had as many as I do.”

Johnny understood and was embarrassed when someone used adjectives to describe him. In an interview in Waco, a reporter asked him to tell why he was successful. The reporter sought a single word that best described his success. “Luck,” Johnny replied.

When Pass Me By was released in 1972, Johnny was still in Tom T. Hall’s band, and I went to see them at the Sam Houston Coliseum in Houston. He did not know I was coming to the show. There were no cell phones. I arrived backstage behind a massive curtain in the vast arena. Johnny was talking to Hall. Another man was with them in the distance.

I did not wish to interrupt them, so I turned to walk away. But then Johnny saw me, he ran over to me and hugged me. “I’m so lucky,” he said. Johnny sang a couple of opening tunes, including Pass Me By.

Soon, as Johnny’s popularity skyrocketed, Hall told him, “I’m not following you anymore.” Hall helped him get a band and a bus. Johnny never spoke negatively about anyone from our teenage years until his death. And he was always smiling. More than anyone I’ve ever known.

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He was funny too, even when things were not going as planned. Johnny was performing at a casino located on an Indian Reservation in New Mexico. After his two shows, he gambled. He called me and said, “Colonel, I’ve lost all but $10. You will need to pick me up at the Austin airport, because she has refused to.”

He need not have told me, because I had received numerous calls from his beloved. They were on my answering machine. When I picked Johnny up at the airport, he explained why she was mad. He said, “The more we argued, the more I gambled and drank.” When we got to my home, I played him all the messages. One said, “If you were his friend, you would not let him drink.” He smirked at that.

Johnny asks, “Where is that Eagles album of yours?” He put it on my turntable and called his “feuding sweetheart.” She did not answer. When the song got to “get over it,” he turned my record player to volume 10. At the end of the verse, he added, “Get off his [expletive], I’m perfectly capable of [expletive] up everything without his help.” No poet ever wrote a more poetic blank verse in iambic pentameter.

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There was a time when Johnny did not appreciate my humor. Some folks interviewed Johnny about filming a movie about his life. After the interview, Johnny called me and said, “They want to interview you, too.”

After my interview, Johnny called me, anxious to know what they said. “They said they want Brad Pitt to play me, and Freddy Fender to play you.” I can’t or won’t share Johnny’s response, but when I told Freddy Fender, he laughed. Thank God, I would have hated to have offended him. We were friends.

Freddy was a great guy and loved Johnny. Johnny was the first major Mexican country music star. He opened the door for Freddy Fender in country music. This was despite Freddy recording records over a decade before Johnny did, but not in the country genre.

Huey Meaux produced Freddy’s first hits. Meaux also produced the first recording artist I ever booked, B.J. Thomas. The event was a junior-senior prom. B.J.’s first hit was Hank Williams Sr’s iconic “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” I would book Thomas again in the future. He was a class act in every sense of the word.

I booked several shows with Kimarie, my surrogate daughter, that I also managed, opening for Thomas. He always insisted I introduce him on stage. The first time was for the Texas Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) at the Hilton (Dallas-Ft Worth Airport). I asked B.J., “What do you want me to say? You have sold over 70 million records, how about that?”

“No, “Five-time Grammy Award winner B.J. Thomas, that’s all,” he said. He, too, was humble.

B.J. Thomas and his friend Roy Head hung out at Garner State Park before Johnny and I did. We admired them both. When Johnny ran into B.J. at the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, he called me, excited to share the news. Roy Head and B.J. Thomas were heroes of ours.

Randy Willis, Larry Trader (with Willie Nelson), Freddy Fender, and Benny McArthur (with George Strait’s band). The old Austin City Limits studios were located on the campus of the University of Texas. Studio 6A in the Communications Building. Johnny sold his bus to Freddy Fender in the 1980s.

Boys Will Be Boys

And there were the times I did not appreciate his “humor.” Texas Governor George W. Bush asked me to produce the 75th Anniversary of Texas Parks & Wildlife. Andy Samson, the executive director of Texas Parks and Wildlife, also made this request. Of course, I would pro bono, as long as it could be held at Garner State Park. I would also promote the event for free. And of course, Johnny would be the headliner.

One bright and very early morning, I picked Johnny up at his new bride’s home. We headed to San Antonio to promote the event. Our destination was our dear friend Jerry King’s morning 50,000 KKXY radio show. This show also reached parts of Mexico.

It was the best of times. It was also the perfect time to bring up an issue I had with Johnny. We discussed it on the drive to “Ole San Antone,” which we both loved. “Now, Boy Wonder, I need to request you stop giving out my pager number to your adoring female fans. They’re paging me in the middle of the night, thinking it is you.”

I had never seen Johnny be more apologetic. He said he never thought of that and didn’t realize they would think it was a way to contact him. “I promised never to do that again,” he said.

The Jerry King show began. I explained to the listening audience that Jerry would be at Garner as the emcee (MC). DJ Bruce Hathaway and Wiley Alexander from the San Antonio Express would also join Jerry. Johnny often said that these three men did more than anyone else to advance his career in the early days. He believed they were more influential than anyone else in the great state of Texas.

As the show drew to a close, I reminded the audience of our “cavalcade” of stars. Jerry King thanked Johnny and me. Johnny expressed his gratitude to the audience. But then he added, “If you ever need to reach me, you may page me anytime. You can contact me day or night at 512.480.4009.”

I shall never forget that number, for I received hundreds of pages in the next 24 hours. I had the number changed, too.

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Freddy Power, his wife Catherine, and Johnny, along with me, met for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. This was on South Lamar in Austin. The restaurant featured the best mariachi band in Austin, with a main vocalist who was once an Opera singer. The band invited Johnny to sing a song or two with them.

When he returned to our table, he was met by a young and attractive student. She was enrolled at the University of Texas. Over and over, she said, “I can’t believe I’m getting to meet Johnny Rodriguez.” Johnny’s beaming smile showed his gratitude that her generation knew his music.

I asked her how she knew of Johnny’s music. She replied, “My grandmother has all his 8-track tapes.” As his smile disappeared, I could not stop laughing.

“Shut up, Willis, you’re that old, too,” he said.

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I got a call from the Austin Livestock Show and Rodeo. One of their scheduled performers had to cancel at the last moment. They had heard Johnny was staying at my home. Would he perform?

When I asked Johnny, he said yes. However, he had one caveat. He wanted to be the Grand Marshall of the annual rodeo parade in downtown Austin. There was only one problem: they already had a Grand Marshall. I suggested having two that year. They agreed to my suggestion. I then asked the star of the play, Always Patsy Cline, Rusti Ray, to join us. I also asked Miss Austin USA Bridget Ramey if they would join us in my Ford Mustang convertible.

We sat in front of the Texas State Capitol, waiting for the parade to start. Johnny slid close to Bridget. He even put his arm around her. That is, until Bridget said, “My mother said to tell y’all, she used to party with you guys.” That ended that.

Always, Patsy Cline, star Rusti Ray, and Randy Willis in the front seats. Grand Marshall Johnny Rodriguez and Miss Austin USA Bridget Ramey in the back.

Always, Patsy Cline, star Rusti Ray, and Randy Willis in the front seats. Grand Marshall Johnny Rodriguez and Miss Austin USA Bridget Ramey in the back. That’s legendary DJ Bob Pickett in the red shirt next to Johnny, about to interview him on the live radio broadcast of the parade

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We played practical jokes on each other since we were teenagers. But sometimes they could “get out of hand.” Such was when I booked Johnny at my friend Johnny Lyon’s Melody Ranch in Waco. The club was packed, and we got there early. I met a lady before the opening acts set. We hit off.

She was, shall I say, “hotter than a two-dollar pistol.” I tried to impress her. I asked if she’d like to meet Johnny Rodriguez in Lyon’s less-than-charming tiny “green room.” She was thrilled.

After the introduction, she left to be seated with her friends. Their table touched the front of the stage. Johnny smiled and said, “I bet you $20 I can take her away from you.”

“You’re on ‘Boy Wonder,” I said. What he did not know was that she had invited me to sit with her. I rarely listened to his sets since I had heard “Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico” a million times. But this was different; there was 20 bucks on the line.

As Johnny began, I joined the lady at her table. As we became cozy, I even put my arm around her. But then Johnny saw us. Twenty seconds into “Pass Me By,” he suddenly stopped the band.

“I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but I must say this. A few minutes ago, my manager, Randy Willis,” he paused and asked me to please stand. I did not move an inch. He had never done that before.

“Well, anyway, ladies and gentlemen, Randy just told me something backstage about his decision. He has decided to come out of the closet. Now, I’m not saying I agree with that decision, but I sure do admire his honesty.” Johnny then looked down. He did not smile and shook his head. He finished the song with a massive grin on his face.

My newfound lady friend removed my arm as 500 hundred redneck cowboys stared at me. Please note that this was a different time, so I kindly request that you refrain from writing to me.

As I waited for the show to end backstage, Johnny came bouncing down the wooden ramp. “You owe $20.”

“No, I don’t, she’s not going to end up with you either.” I never told him why.

There are hundreds of stories about our friendship. I wish I could write them all. However, the following story is one of the craziest ever. It was a strange time. We kept apologizing to each other. Even though neither one of us has done anything wrong. Forgive me, it’s perhaps R-rated, but so true. Well, maybe P-13. Anyway, I have never shared it before and probably shouldn’t now.

Girls Will Be Girls

There were times when neither one of us knew what to say. When you have known someone for most of your life, a look is all that is needed. You know, those friends who you can sometimes finish each other’s sentences.

I had just finished getting ready for a date one evening when my phone rang. “Colonel, I’m passing through town. Let’s have dinner,” Johnny said.

“Sorry, I have a date, but I’ll call her to see if she minds if you join us.” My date and I had planned a romantic dinner at Mezzaluna in downtown Austin. The Italian restaurant offered incredible food, accompanied by instrumental Italian music. Camilo Cantu was considered the best accordion player in Central Texas. I checked in advance to be sure he would be there. And I requested a table in the corner for privacy. I even washed my pickup, which I really did.

“Let me call my date and see if she is cool with you having dinner with us,” I said again.

I called her, “I have an old friend passing through. Would you mind if he has dinner with us?” I never told her his name. She was gracious, as always, and said, “Okay.” When Johnny and I arrived to pick her up, she said hello. It is nice to meet you. The conversation was the usual small talk.

Before dinner, we shared a bottle or two of their fine wine. Then Camilo Cantu strolled by with his accordion. I asked him if he knew O Sole Mio. I already knew the answer. I had been there numerous times. It was sure to impress my date. After all, we had dated four or five times, and I thought, “This might have a future.”

As Camilo played O Sole Mio, Johnny began to sing Elvis’s English version entitled It’s Now or Never.

As Johnny sang, “It’s now or never. Come hold me tight. Kiss me my darling. Be mine tonight,” I was astonished. I had no clue he knew the lyrics. He sang in perfect pitch and tone, matching the setting and the accordion’s key as Camilo pressed the buttons.

And if that wasn’t enough, he sang it in both languages. Every table within 20 feet applauded. This night could not get any better.

I thought, now that’s the way to impress a date. That was until she said she knew who Johnny was. I had never mentioned his name to her, not wishing to name-drop, which never impresses anyone. Now that was okay. At least she was coming out of her unusual shyness. She was finally joining our conversation.

But then she said something unforgettable. And I’m not embellishing this one iota. “Johnny, when I was a teenager, I had your posters and photos all over my walls. In fact, I dreamed of losing my virginity to you.”

Johnny and I exchanged a look that said, ‘That’s just a tad too much information.’ He then flagged down the waiter. “He and I need another glass of wine or two. Make that a bottle,” he said.

When our waiter looked at her, I said, “Oh no, no thank you,” I said.

She called me the next day to apologize. I told her, “No problem; we all had too much to drink. Everything is fine,” I added in my most understating and sympathetic tone. I knew whatever I said would be shared with our mutual friends. It would also be shared with those I would never meet for years to come.

I was cool with her apology. That was until she explained her actions further, “You know girls will be girls.” That was okay too, but it was on the border of unacceptable. I held my tongue, as my mother taught me when I was a boy.

But then she kept explaining. She made several more “provocative” statements. They were about her behavior the night before. None of these were about me. All I could think of was to quote my friend Sonny Throckmorton’s song. This is where The Cowboy Rides Away. I didn’t care what her friends thought by then. We never spoke again.

When I told Johnny of my decision, he said, “It doesn’t take you long to examine a horseshoe, Colonel.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “It took me an entire box of horseshoes to finally understand.”

Later, Johnny said, “I know you would never date a girl I was dating. But would you date one I used to date?”

“No sir,” I said.

“Neither would I,” he said. “That is, unless you gave me permission.” We both laughed, knowing that would never happen.

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We double-dated often. One of those was at La Fogata Mexican Cuisine on Vance Jackson in San Antonio. As Johnny and I waited for our food, we drank margaritas. The ladies drank frozen daiquiris. When our appetizers arrived with mild peppers, Johnny began to brag about how he could eat hot peppers. And if I were a real man, I would too. Our dates had no clue what was going on.

He ordered me habanero and ghost peppers, knowing there was no way I would eat either of them. They are the two hottest peppers known to man in Texas. We couldn’t help but notice that he wouldn’t taste them either. When the waiter announced our main course would arrive soon, Johnny excused himself to the restroom.

I ground the two peppers as finely as I could in my hand. Then, I sprinkled them into his margarita. I sampled the hors d’oeuvres until he returned. I did not wish to have a mouth full of food when he tasted my newly created “Molotov cocktail.”

As he took a rather large sip, we all noticed his eyes widen, and as he began to gasp. I said, “What was that you were saying about real men?”

I had tipped and asked the waiter in advance to take this photo after Johnny tasted his margarita. Notice Johnny was unable to smile, and his eyes were watery in the first photo. In the second photo, he got his revenge when I excused myself to go to the restroom. I thought I was going to die. You can tell by the smile on his face that he was happy with his plot.

Johnny Rodriguez, Randy Willis, and their dates at La Fogata Mexican Cuisine on Vance Jackson in San Antonio. After tasting his margarita, Johnny was unable to smile.

And there were the many birthdays of my three sons and grandchildren that Johnny would drive many miles for them. And allowing me to hire my sons to sell his merchandise, never requested any funds. And sitting around my backyard fire pit with friends, playing music for hours and hours. And fishing on Decker Lake in my metallic red Ranger bass boat. And a million other special memories I cherish.

My son Adam Willis’s Birthday.

My grandson Corbin Willis’s Birthday.

My son Josh Willis’s Birthday.

At the Broken Spoke with James White.

A thousand gigs.

And countless events in my backyard.

In my backyard, around my fire pit.

Randy Willis and two-time Grammy nominee Carlton Moody of The Moody Brothers. Randy Willis’s Backyard

On my back porch with Earl Campbell.

And a hundred meals together.

And celebrating Christmas together.

And dropping in unannounced at The Kyle Sisters’ record release party.

And fishing in my Ranger Bass Boat on Decker Lake near Austin until the sun went down. I took this photo. He was so proud.

My son Adam Willis is selling merchandise at the Broken Spoke. Johnny never requested a dime of the money.

My sons, Josh and Adam Willis, are in Laredo selling merchandise.

Gig in Laredo, Texas. Hopefully, this is the only photo on earth with us with matching shirts. Yes, that’s Debbie McNeely and Holly Dunn.

Johnny Rodriguez, Debbie McNeely, and Randy Willis, 4th of July, Muleshoe, Texas, July 4, 1999. How gracious and kind of Johnny and Debbie to do this.

Joe Rhodes owned the largest boot store Johnny and I had ever seen. When we arrived, the owner asked Johnny if he’d sign something for an 87-year-old fan, Rudy Wilson, who was in a Muleshoe Healthcare Center.

“How far is that from here?” Johnny asked.

“Just a few blocks.”

“Why don’t we deliver the autograph to her?” Thus began a 30-minute visit to a thrilled Rudy Wilson.

Johnny performed and was the Grand Marshall on the 4th of July parade.

In private, Joe told Johnny and me to pick out whatever boots we liked on the house. Johnny asked, “Do you have any goat skin boots?” Johnny asked.

I got a pair of full-quill Ostrich and a pair of work boots. We both kept it to two pairs each, not to overstay our welcome. I booked that show for several years after that.

Joe Rhodes was an incredible man and a Texas legend. Several Texas governors would fly into Muleshoe to buy their boots.

Another gig, this one in San Antonio.

And we laughed until it hurt. He sang with a serious face, “I can’t get over you until you get out from under him.”

And hundreds of benefits, playing for free.

He was a damn good friend. I’m going to miss him. I already do. Let’s continue.

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“This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” —the Editor of Shinbone Star

This article not only includes the good and the funny times, but also some not-so-funny events. This is sure to offend some of Johnny’s fan base. A few adjectives will follow.

I should perhaps have taken the advice from the Editor of Shinbone Star: “This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

The newspaper editor at the end of the movie, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, said those words. The editor was speaking of James Stewart’s character. But we all know that John Wayne’s character shot Liberty Valance in cold blood. Lee Marvin’s character, Liberty Valance, was a “bully on steroids.”

In this photo from the film The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, the editor of the Shinbone Star is tearing up his notes. This action follows an interview with Ransom Stoddard (JimmyStewart). He chooses not to print the real story, saying, “This is the West, sir,” he explains, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” Ransom Stoddard rose to power and fame as a U.S. Senator because people believed that it was he who killed Liberty Valance.

Here is the unvarnished truth to the best of my recollection. Tear it up if you wish, as the Editor of Shinbone Star did in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

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“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” —William Shakespeare’s play Julius Caesar

Why then write anything negative? I believe in positive thinking and the idiom “letting sleeping dogs lie.”

Because few families today have not witnessed how addiction can destroy otherwise wonderful people. Addiction, including alcohol addiction, is a disease that involves changes in the brain that affect behavior, control, and decision-making. It is a disease I claim to understand but hate.

Unfortunately, when a person is a celebrity, some will use the celebrity’s addiction to gain access to them. And much too often, it’s the best among us who fall victim to drugs and alcohol.

So, please forgive me if I seem unfaithful. I’ve lost my grandfather and namesake to alcohol at age 54. And a brother died way too soon. I have had two friends who committed suicide because of their addiction. I have also lost others that I adored.

The stone at the foot of my grandpa and namesake, Randall Lee “Rand” Willis’s grave features our family’s brand. The brand (Bar-D-K) has been in use since the Civil War. It is a reminder to me of the dangers of alcohol addiction.

Using an arsenal of adjectives cannot and should not cover up this fact.

Enough backstory—let the story begin. I will start with the most famous of Johnny’s relationships and end with his first wife.

Johnny Rodriguez Marries Willie Nelson’s Daughter, Lana Nelson

Tying the knot in Luck, Texas, and other random assorted details that led to January 10, 1995.

Johnny Rodriguez married Willie Nelson’s daughter, Lana Nelson. The wedding took place at Willie’s movie set. It was within sight of Willie’s colossal log home high on a hill overlooking Luck, Texas. I was Johnny’s “best man.” The date was January 10, 1995. This is the story of that day and what led up to that day.

As my dad, Jake Willis, an ole cowboy, would say, “Take a deep seat. A faraway look. And keep your mind in the middle.”

Daddy did not care for Willie Nelson in the early 1970s. He disliked Willie because of his long “hippie” hair. That is, until Willie started Farm Aid. Thereafter, he would fight you if you said anything bad about Willie. I know, times have changed.

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Once, Daddy was a member of the Brazoria County grand jury. An innovative district attorney wanted to show them why a man should go to prison for a felony. The district attorney passed around the table of the jury a lit “marijuana cigarette.” He instructed them not to inhale due to the dangers of becoming addicted.

Each jury was asked to give their impression. When it became Daddy’s turn, never one to mince words. Daddy said as he inhaled, “It tastes like something I would have done as a teenager. It is not nearly as strong as Jack Daniel’s. I’ll stick with whiskey, though.” He voted to “no bill.” The 18-year-old was not indicted.

Daddy added that the joint could not be as bad as what he had been given on Iwo Jima. This was during World War II. The army claimed that cigarettes were not harmful to one’s health. It took Daddy decades to quit those ‘healthy” Camel unfiltered cigarettes.

For some reason, he was never again requested to be on the grand jury. Daddy remained a fan of Willie Nelson until he died in 1995. So, have I.

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Three days before their wedding, Johnny and Lana got engaged at Craig Dillingham and Karen Brook’s condo. Yes, that’s right, their engagement lasted three days. We were there to eat pizza.

Craig and Karen had previously briefly lived in a truck camper in my driveway in Austin. Craig and Karen’s apartment was at Whitecliff Condominiums, just up the road from Willie’s Pedernales Golf Course and Recording Studio. And Luck, Texas.

It was not a May-June relationship—no, rather a December-January one. In fairness to both the bride and groom, they had known each other for a long time. Johnny played at Willie’s first Farm Aid a decade before. Lana was there too. And they met at many different events.

Jimmy Day and Elvis. Inscribed: “To my lifelong friend Randy.” —Jimmy Day. According to Jimmy, this date should have been 1955, not 1954, at the Reo Palm Isle Longview, Texas.

Marty Stuart, Randy Willis, and Jimmy Day. Austin City Limits.

I’m getting ahead of myself. That is easy to do with a story that flashed like lightning from a West Texas Sky. I booked Johnny Rodriguez in the winter of 1994 for a few local gigs. And I managed him for 10 minutes as well.

But we had been friends since we were kids in the mid-1960s. We met at Garner State Park. Johnny signed a record deal with my cousin Jerry Kennedy at Mercury Records in 1972. Feel free to read my story about Jerry Kennedy and our family on this site, titled “A Streetcar Named Desire.”

A much longer story about Jerry Kennedy and Johnny Rodriguez may be found at this link: Jerry Kennedy – Randy Willis Newsletter. I know, “Shameless plugs.”

Oh, I’d best get back to my story.

Garner State Park. Easter, April 1969

Randy Willis and Glen Hardwick. Garner State Park

Johnny Rodriguez is in red with his guitar, and Randy Willis, in blue, is leaning over, touching his shoe. Garner State Park. Circa 1966. Photo: Glen Hardwick

In 1972, Coach Darrell Royal brought together a struggling songwriter named Willie Nelson (front right). And a Mexican singer, Johnny Rodriguez (with the guitar). Willie had recently moved to Austin from Nashville at the suggestion of Coach Royal. Coach Royal also introduced Rodriguez, who had just signed with Mercury Records, to Congressman J.J. Pickle (standing second from the right) and Rudy “Cisco” Cisneros, the owner of Cisco’s Mexican Restaurant, established in 1950.

Johnny and I ate at Cisco’s for the next half-century. That’s Johnny’s first manager, Happy Shahan, is in front of everyone.

Coach Royal arranged for a private show at Cisco’s Mexican Restaurant in East Austin. He accompanied it with an unheard-of donation to Rodriguez.

Coach Royal had won three football national championships as head coach of the Texas Longhorns. He had received an advance copy of Rodriguez’s first single, “Pass Me By,” from Rodriguez’s first manager, Happy Shahan. Royal had met Shahan when John Wayne invited him to the set of the movie “The Alamo.” Shahan owned the ranch where the movie was being filmed.

A decade later, the set was called “Alamo Village” and would be where Rodriguez would be discovered.

It was the flip side of “Pass Me By” that the famous coach was knocked out by. The song was “Jealous Heart.”

It was the first time Johnny and I met Coach Royal and Willie Nelson.

In 1998, Larry Holden with Country Weekly met Johnny and me at Garner State Park. It was the 25th anniversary of Johnny’s first hit. One of the photos they requested was of Johnny and me on this same park bench. Sadly, we discovered “urban sprawl” had hit Garner. There was another Garner screened shelter where the above photo was taken.

An Unexpected Visitor

Johnny Rodriguez drove from Nashville to Austin. He stopped by my home unannounced in 1994 and asked if he could stay the night. That visit evolved into months. Then years. It then continued on and off for several more years. Eventually, it became sporadic over the course of two decades. Dare I mention his marriages during this time? I will stick to one. Otherwise, this treatise might become as long as “War and Peace.” That might have been an appropriate title, though.

I had not seen him often since 1986. We did meet when he came for George Strait’s daughter, Jenifer’s, funeral. I can’t recall us speaking more than a dozen times on the phone during those eight years. He asked me to meet him and his fiancé, Tricia Kay Hernden, at The Lumberyard in Round Rock, Texas. This was the same week as Jenifer Straits’ funeral. Johnny told me he considered canceling the gig. Her tragic death and funeral noticeably shook him. She was only 13 when she died.

I met Jenifer’s mother, Norma—George Strait’s wife years before. She was the receptionist for my CPA, Stuart Wright, at R.C. Reed & Company in San Marcos. Her husband, George, was a student at Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University). Norma mentioned to me that he was a singer. I would later introduce Johnny to George and Norma.

George Strait and Randy Willis

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I have never read Johnny’s “memoir.” Although he requested that I read the book, adding, “You’re in it, Colonel,” as an enticement. I still have not read it. Others have texted me pages from the book that mention me.

I have included one of those pages to illustrate a point. I always believed Johnny had a “photogenic memory.” He briefly used my CPA at R.C. Reed and Company in San Marcos to advise him on tax deductions. However, he also remained friends with Stuart Wright at RC Reed for years. Johnny collected friends by the hundreds during his lifetime.

I would show him an old photo of us with a half dozen friends. I might only remember one or two names at best. Here is the page text to me.

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After Johnny and Lana Nelson got married, we arranged for his old mail to be delivered to her home. Her home is on Fitzhugh Road near Austin. His mail was packed in boxes in Johnny’s attic at 1440 Otter Creek Road in Brentwood, Nashville, Tennessee. The home, situated on two acres, has since been demolished. Johnny never read his mail. He never even opened it unless he was expecting a check. I have never known anyone else with that habit.

While he shot pool, Lana and I opened his old mail. She came across a large envelope with the sender’s address, “Tom T. Hall.” In it was a book written by President Jimmy Carter. President Carter autographed the book to Johnny with a personal note.

“You know, Johnny,” I said, “The problem with this scene is what you did not realize. You owed Tom T a thank you. You also owed a former President of the United States a huge thank you.”

Johnny Rodriguez, Tricia Kay Hernden, Penny, and Randy Willis. June 1986. The Lumberyard in Round Rock, Texas. Tricia had a “million-dollar smile.” She is wearing my cowboy hat in this photo.

Like previous engagements, Tricia Hernden was a remarkable woman. These 1970s-1980s engagements included Linda Patterson, Robyn Bernard, and Lisa Thornhill in that order. Lana Nelson and Debbie McNeely were in the 1990s. Got it, there is a test later.

Tricia worked with Johnny’s attorney, Alan Brown. Tricia became a successful attorney but tragically died in 2021 at the age of 56. The next time I saw Tricia was at John T. Floore’s Country Store in Helotes, Texas. Tricia made it clear to me in the “green room” that she had zero tolerance for drugs. That “conviction” would serve her well later, too. She served as a prosecutor in the Bexar County District Attorney’s Office before founding her own law firm. But her scrutiny did not serve Johnny’s lifestyle. She soon vanished from his life.

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Robyn Bernard

I was with Johnny when he met 19-year-old Robyn Bernard at Baylor University. A former Homecoming Queen at Spring High School, north of Houston, she was friendly and kind. A gentle soul. She soon dropped out of college and moved to Nashville to live with Johnny at his farm.

One of my best friends was Johnny Lyon, who owned the Texas Hall of Fame in College Station. I helped Johnny Rodriguez get booked there several times. Lyon and I had been friends since our days at Southwest Texas State University (Texas State University). He taught for the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) there. I was a student, although not in ROTC.

The Texas Hall of Fame was nicknamed The Hall of Shame. I encountered a couple who were not happy campers. When they introduced themselves as Robyn’s parents, I said, “I barely know him,” and walked into the nightclub. Robyn’s father, Jerry Wayne Bernard, was a televangelist. No, it had been nicknamed the Hall of Shame before that night.

I soon met Robyn again on Westheimer Road in Houston at a club called Fools Gold before Johnny’s performance. Fool’s Gold was a popular nightclub in Houston in the early 1980s during the “Urban Cowboy” craze.

Johnny asked if I would stand with Robyn and her 16-year-old sister, Crystal Bernard, who was underage to drink. I am sure that was the owner’s request for the club, in hindsight.

Crystal would go on to be on Happy Days and star in the TV sitcom Wings. Robyn would later rise to stardom on TV’s General Hospital. Both were beautiful young women, inside and out. Crystal trained at the Alley Theater in Houston. They both grew up singing Gospel songs.

Johnny’s “marriage” to Robyn Bernard was stranger than fiction. Johnny and Robyn married at Mario’s Ristorante in Nashville. The occasion was another wedding they were attending. Legendary restaurateur Mario Ferrari asked Johnny, “You’re engaged, why don’t we make it a double wedding?” What could he do?

But that was, shall I dare say, the idiom “putting the cart before the horse.” Robyn soon had a wedding reception at Maryland Farms Country Club in Brentwood. Johnny was a member of the club. However, Johnny later refused to get a marriage license, so delete Robyn as a “former wife.” I adored her.

Mario’s Ristorante in Nashville. The owner, legendary restaurateur Mario Ferrari, with Robert Redford and Willie Nelson, stars of the movie, The Electric Horseman (1979), and Johnny’s former neighbor, Waylon Jennings. Mario’s Ristorante and Drusie & Darr Restaurant at The Hermitage Hotel were among our favorite places. We dined there when we wanted to celebrate something special. Mario’s burned in 2006.

We also stayed at the Loews Nashville Hotel, located at Vanderbilt Plaza. It was there I last visited with Linda Hargrove at breakfast. Linda Hargrove wrote Get Up and Close the Door (1975), which was a #1 hit for Johnny. And later Savin’ This Love Song for You.

I wish Linda could have lived to see her and Dean Dillon’s song Tennessee Whiskey sell 17 million copies. Chris Stapleton recorded it. The song has surpassed one billion streams on Spotify. Chris Stapleton and Justin Timberlake performed a duet of the song at the Country Music Association (CMA) Awards. This duet drove its success.

After her conversion to Christianity, Linda Hargrove released two gospel albums under the name Linda Bartholomew. Her final album was One Woman’s Life. Linda mailed me the copy just months before she died in 2010. Linda and I were born in the same year. She was an angel and a kind soul.

The Loews Nashville Hotel at Vanderbilt Plaza. Randy Willis, Johnny Rodriguez, and his daughter Aubry. And Freddy Powers on the right, whom I hired to drive us. I rented the bus from Freddy’s partner in Rogers and Hammerhead Publishing, Bill McDavid. We were is Nashville to record a live album at Erv Woolsey’s nightclub The Trap.

Johnny’s fiancée, Lisa Thornhill, and I were seldom around each other. I was raising three sons and building a business.

But I became close friends with her dear mother, Lynda Thornhill, after their breakup. Lynda was a special person and very kind. Lynda died in 2012. She worked at Arista Records in Nashville and knew everyone in the music biz. Everyone adored her. She was disabled in her later years due to an accident. She remained friends with Johnny, me, and others in our circle. This continued after Lisa and Johnny broke up, even though their breakup was not amicable.

After Johnny and Lisa’s relationship ended, she pursued a career in acting and became very successful. Her films include Veronica Mars (2014), Rush Hour 3 (2007), After the Sunset (2004), Life or Something Like It (2002), Red Dragon (2002), The Family Man (2000), Meet Wally Sparks (1997), Power 98 (1996), and Her Hidden Truth (1995).

Life or Something Like It was my favorite movie of hers. She played Angelina Jolie’s sister. Lisa’s TV credits are too many to list. I see her occasionally on TV reruns of once-popular shows.

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Johnny’s first wife, Linda Patterson (now Linda Rodriguez Adams), is a friend. We also have mutual friends who speak highly of her. One was in the same Sunday School class as her. Today, I stay in touch with Linda. We talked on the phone this week. She is a beautiful Christian lady. I called Linda to request some photos and to clarify some details for this article. A half-century can dull the mind, at least mine.

During their marriage, they resided at their home, located at 5633 S Hillview Drive in Brentwood, Tennessee. Waylon Jennings was their neighbor. Johnny and Linda would walk across the street to watch movies. Waylon was the first person in the neighborhood to own a VCR. Their home faced Old Hickory, but the driveway was on Hillview. They would also often have dinner with Jerry Kennedy and his wife, Linda Brannon Kennedy. Jerry signed Johnny to Mercury Records. His childhood friend, Roy Dea, was the head of A&R at Mercury. Roy, too, had a significant role in Johnny’s signing with Mercury.

Roy Dea’s wife, Delores, wrote Johnny and me after his death.

Johnny and Linda’s home at 5633 S Hillview Drive in Brentwood, Tennessee

Johnny loved Linda and could become jealous when she received attention from other men. Such was the case when his road manager, Phil Jones, ran his hand down her long hair at a party. Johnny fired Jones on the spot. Jones had too much to drink; nevertheless, it was disrespectful to Johnny and Linda. Jones later began working (1977) as Ronnie Milsap’s Road Manager for many years. During his time with Johnny, he borrowed my car numerous times while Johnny was playing in Texas. The last time we visited was at the rodeo in Austin, when Milsap played. Phil died in 2014 at 66. He was a great road manager.

Johnny and Linda also owned a 27-acre farm northwest of Nashville on Little Marrowbone Road near Ashland City. It was here that Johnny found solace and wrote songs. Johnny also used the farm to hone his shooting skills. When Johnny and Waylon used frogs for target practice, Linda became enraged.

After Johnny and Linda’s divorce, Johnny and his new girlfriend, Robin Barnard, lived on the farm for a while. Linda got the house in the divorce, and Johnny got the farm.

Linda attended Belmont University and became good friends with my cousin, Gordon Kennedy. Gordon is the son of Jerry Kennedy, who signed Johnny to Mercury Records. Please read my article on Gordon Kennedy for more details. It is entitled “It all Begins with a Song” and is available on this website.

Johnny and Linda on their wedding day.

Johnny’s former fiancées, “almost wives,”

A couple of years ago, Johnny called me from Nashville. “You will never guess where I am. P.F. Chang’s in Nashville,” he said. P.F. Chang’s was one of our favorite restaurants in Austin. Johnny was having dinner with his daughter.

He also said he was living in Melanie Clark’s guest house in Green Hills, five miles from downtown Nashville. And weeks before his death, Melanie never charged him a dime. Melanie and I speak often these days. When she lived in San Antonio, we would usually meet at TGI Friday’s and solve the world’s problems. She met Johnny in Uvalde in 1972 at a celebration of his newfound fame. She would become Johnny’s brother, Ricky Rodriguez’s closest confidant.

Knowing his health was declining, I asked Johnny which relationship had meant the most to him. Who was the love of his life? Without hesitation, he said, “My mother and my daughter, Aubry.” He loved both more than my words can describe. He also adored Melanie Clark and trusted her with his taxes and finances until his death.

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When Johnny arrived at my home in Austin in 1994, I soon discovered it was a troubling time for him. His manager, Erv Woolsey (George Strait’s longtime manager), told him, “You are unmanageable. Even I cannot afford you.” Johnny once lost all his wages gambling. He lost them on a cruise that Erv had arranged for him to perform. He then went $30,000 in the hole gambling. They would not let Johnny disembark without the $30,000 being paid. Erv paid the $30,000.

Johnny’s new record label, Atlantic Records, dropped him, too. Atlantic’s Nashville president, Rick Blackburn, dropped him when Johnny slapped him during a meeting. Blackburn was complaining about Johnny missing recording sessions. The album was never released. Blackburn could be abrasive. Merle Haggard once threatened to “whip his________.”

Let me give you a heads-up. Whether rude, arrogant, or not, that is the fastest way to be dropped from your label. You can sing off-key today in a recording studio with Auto-Tune and Pro Tools. There is no “auto-tune” for a brushed record executive’s face, let alone his ego. Erv Woolsey assured everyone Johnny was sober. And he was in the beginning.

L to R: Freddy Powers, John Rich, Randy Willis, Clay Walker, Johnny Rodriguez, Erv Woolsey (George Strait’s manager), and Big Kenny (Big & Rich). The Trap Nightclub, owned by Erv Woolsey, is in Nashville.

Johnny arrived at my home in 1994. I was unaware that his life was in a free fall. I lived in a different world from his. There was no social media or cell phones. I soon became part of his world. It was exciting but soon became unhealthy for this hayseed cowboy.

The Bible frequently uses the word “compassion” to describe Jesus. Al-Anon provides support to the friends and families of alcoholics. It later taught me not to tolerate a loved one’s unacceptable behavior. But the glitz and glamour were like a drug to me. There is a thin line between compassion and enabling. It took me two years to learn the difference.

Today, I admire all of Johnny’s former wives for their “tough love.” They have all stood in the gap between fantasy and reality.

They have all stood in the interval between truth and fake stories—and they all did before I did. Truth can be complicated for some “die-hard” fans. A few fans want to deify their favorite singer, actor, sports star, politician, or candlestick maker. The Bible tells us we all fall short of the Glory of God. The difference with a celebrity in today’s social media world is that your shortcomings are plastered everywhere. These faults are often embellished, if not totally untrue.

Before Johnny’s new Atlantic record deal, Erv Woolsey paid for six months of treatment for Johnny’s drug addiction. Another person contributed half of that to his stay at the Memphis treatment center. It costs them $1,100 a day. A female fan smuggled him cocaine once, Johnny said. “It was her admission to me while suffering from addiction.” He left after six months and was sober. His voice was as good as it was early in his career. Erv Woolsey let him open for George Strait.

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Johnny told me about his gambling addiction on Christmas Eve, 1994. He said, “Colonel, if I chew bubble gum, I become addicted to it.” If I drink coffee, I am addicted. He also shared what his psychiatrist in Nashville diagnosed. I won’t share that information, but it explained a lot.

He later disagreed with that diagnosis. He became angry when I mentioned it to him. I suggested he might consider spiritual counseling. His response was, “I never pray for myself.” He added God had already done enough for him.

He also shared with me what Jack Johnson, who discovered and managed Charlie Pride, told him. Johnson said, “Johnny, you’re like an ostrich with its head in the sand. Everyone can see your ass except you.” That hit home with Johnny. He knew he needed help.

The point is, Johnny’s life was crumbling like a house of cards. So, why not start anew in the Live Music Capital of the World, Austin, Texas? Before you extract criticism from that statement, remember, it worked for Willie Nelson. However, Austin was not the Live Music Capital of the World until Willie arrived.

Life is a Series of New Beginnings

I started Operation Warm Heart in 1990 after the tragic loss of my fiancée. We fed and clothed the needy of Central Texas. We gave away Bibles by the thousands. My mother died of cancer in October of 1994; the same month Johnny arrived. My brother Buddy died the following May. Then Daddy died a month later. I became mad at God. I threw away the Bibles we had been giving to the less fortunate. I disbanded the organization. How could God allow this to happen to me?

It took me two years to ask myself, “What the hell am I doing?” After reading the story of The Prodigal Son. I found the story in the Gospel of Luke. The Bible describes the Prodigal Son “coming to himself.” It took me two long years to “come to myself.”

One night, I poured my heart out to the Lord. “When I get to Heaven, I will ask you, Lord, why has all this happened to me. What caused this during my time serving you?”

To my surprise, the Lord responded, “When you reach Heaven, you will not need to ask that question.” The Holy Spirit spoke to my heart with the peace that passes all understanding. The better question should have been, “How can one be self-righteous toward the only One who is righteous?” My self-righteous pity party was over. I have never questioned God’s goodness since.

I discovered that the same Jesus I was mad at was not angry with me. He had not given up on me. He was not in “panic palace.” Jesus was not drinking Maalox. He was not wondering what He would do with Randy Willis in his rebellion. It became clear to me that we have an enemy. Satan will do everything he can to deceive you. He will attempt to discourage you if you are a follower of Christ. Yes, there is a cost to following Jesus.

Jesus is faithful even when we are not. If you get mad at God because you don’t understand why your life is unraveling, join the club. I would later learn that when things make no sense, we should walk by faith, not by sight. Once we arrive in Heaven, we will no longer have the opportunity to walk by faith. It will all be crystal clear then. Oh, but that is not easy to do down here. I know. It’s still a daily struggle for me at times.

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Few letters I have received meant more to me than this one. My Pastor, Dr. Ralph Smith, built Hyde Park Baptist Church with an incredible staff. He increased membership to over 14,000 by going door-to-door and inviting people to church.

As the largest church in Central Texas, I am surprised he found the time to write to me. He did, however, manage to do so.

As my home burned to the ground, I tried to enter it. I wanted to get my research and family photos from my office. The fireman grabbed my arms to keep me from entering my home.

I prayed, Lord, let it all burn, but would you save my research? Every room in my home burned to the ground except one, my office.

I was devastated. All I had were the clothes on my back and the boxes of my research from my office. On top of my desk was this partially destroyed letter from Dr. Smith.

Dr. Smith’s words were what I needed to hear. Thirty-one years later, I have written 19 books and countless articles from what was spared in my office that day.

My sainted mother often told me, “Son, the easiest thing to do is criticize people.” She, as did Dr. Smith, had a remarkable gift: the gift of encouragement.

After my home burned, I found this letter.

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When a subsequent tragic loss occurred, the first call I received from outside my family was from Lana Nelson. This happened when my brother Buddy died on May 8, 1995. She was married to Johnny at the time. All she said was, “I’ve been there too.” Those were the kindest words I’d ever heard. I could hear the pain, compassion, and kindness in her voice. Her brother Billy had died less than three years before, on Christmas Day in 1991. I shall never forget those four simple words: “I’ve been there too.”

We have all heard how humble Lana’s father, Willie Nelson, is. We have also seen how kind, giving, and gracious he is. Is it for show? Not hardly. He’s that way day in and day out. Almost all he does to help folks is done privately. As Merle Haggard once said, “Willie Nelson is the most unaffected person by fame I have ever known.”

I discovered that when I was an extra in a film, Tales Out of Luck, Texas. Yes, it’s on YouTube. You must stop the action and use a pointer to locate me. It is sure to be the highlight of your day.

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We were at Willie’s famed 700-acre movie set and nearby home in Luck, Texas. Willie’s movie, The Red Headed Stranger, was filmed there. And many others since.

You can find me in Honeysuckle Rose with extreme slow motion. It was filmed in 1980, although not in Luck, but in Fischer Store. I’m dancing the Cotton Eye Joe to Johnny Gimble’s fiddle. I’m the tallest dude.

It would not be my last shot at stardom. In 1995, Lana Nelson pointed at me on the set of Tales Out of Luck and said, “Sit there.” No, it wasn’t a speaking part. However, my scene lasted a good 10 seconds as Ben Dorcy rode by on a bicycle in the opening scene. I suspect she included me because Miss Texas Holly Mills was my guest.

Early during the second day of shooting of Tales Out of Luck, Lana got off her dad’s bus. The bus was parked nearby. It was breakfast time at Luck’s most significant building (Willie’s World Headquarters) for the cast and crew. Lana sat by me. She whispered, “I had to take Johnny to Starlite Recovery Center last night.” I had taken Johnny to Starlite (a drug and alcohol treatment center) only months before in Center Point, Texas. That’s all Lana said.

I soon learned about Johnny’s behavior the night before from Bill McDavid and Freddy Powers. We produced The Rogers and Hammerhead Show. Bill and Freddy were the stars. The following week, Willie Nelson was to be our guest star.

But this trip to Starlite was different from the first. Johnny had become “aggressive.” Bill McDavid was on Willie’s bus. Lana shared the details of the night before with Willie and Bill. Bill said Willie became angry. I decided it was best not to be part of the production next week. I did not think it was appropriate since I managed Johnny.

Bill and Freddy shared my decision with Willie. Within an hour, Bill McDavid called me. “Willie told me to tell you that he will be there if you are not part of the production.” Bill later told me Willie said, “I don’t hold that against him. He is just trying to make a living.”

This is a photo of me, taken minutes before we began filming Willie and Sister Bobbie Nelson.

Like Coach Darrell Royal, Willie Nelson always considers how his actions and words will affect others. In my mind, Willie is the Ambassador of Kindness in a world of harshness under the disguise of constructive criticism. Or as my mother used to say, “The easiest thing to do in life is criticize.”

I’ve never known a man who lived more by the Golden Rule in the Bible than Willie Nelson. Darrell Royal also lived by this rule. They lived: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” I reckon that is one of the many reasons they were close friends.

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I remember one other site during the shooting of Tales Out of Luck. The night before the second day of shooting, it rained. The next day, mud was in front of the stage and on the main street of Luck. I noticed a woman in knee-high rubber boots shoving the mud without fanfare. I thought there was a woman among all these famous people with a servant’s heart. I asked my friend Jimmy Day, whom I have known since I was a boy, “Who is she?”

“Annie Nelson, Willie’s wife,” he said. They have been married since 1991. Their very young sons, Lukas and Micah, are also in the film. I will never forget her act of humility. Willie and Annie have been married for over 33 years. I can see her sense of character, as much as Willie’s, in their sons today.

Before the Beginning of the End

Before the beginning of the end for Johnny and Lana, there was the autumn of 1994. Johnny nicknamed me the “Colonel” after Colonel Tom Parker. A club owner told me he could not pay the balance of our contract until after the gig. He said he needed the rest of the door to do so. I turned to Johnny’s band leader and said, “Load up; we are out of here.” The club owner soon located more cash that he had “forgotten.” I called Johnny “Boy Wonder” since his meteoric rise to fame at 21.

After the sound check, we had a window of time. We decided to hit a bucket of golf balls. Craig Dillingham had gathered the lost golf balls from Willie’s Pedernales Golf Course. Such were the plans of “Of Mice and Men.” Thank you, John Steinbeck, for “allowing” me to “borrow” that term.

The nightclub had little traffic on Dessau Road, several miles from Austin. The road was some distance from where we teed off. We hit the balls toward the country road to see who could get the closest. Our wager was a beer.

Rumor has it that Hank Williams Sr. and Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys once played the club on the same night. It has to be true; I’ve met over 150,000 people who were there.

I would never make excuses for my lousy golf. However, Craig’s 1-iron was a far better fit for Johnny than for me at 6′ 5″. Toward the end of our bucket of balls, Johnny hit one. It went up and up and up. It headed straight toward the middle of the road. We all three looked to the left as we heard an approaching car. No problem, I figured the chances of the golf ball hitting a moving vehicle were slim and none. I figured wrong.

The golf ball hit the windshield dead center. I yelled, “It’s a hole-in-one (pun intended)!” We all hit the dirt. Then we crawled face down through the back door of the tiny green room. Johnny smiled and said, “You two owe me two beers.” My only concern was how big that dude was driving that car. I would have given the club owner his money back, not to find out.

Randy Willis and Willie Nelson. Barton Creek Country Club near Austin.

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Craig asked me after the show, “How did you know the club owner would pay?”

“I didn’t, but I noticed the two opening acts standing in line, looking unhappy, hoping to get paid. I didn’t want to be third in line.

Larry Trader, who had been with Willie for 100 years, had taught me to count the occupied tables. I would multiply that by the number of chairs at each occupied table. Then, I would multiply by the cover charge. You have a good idea of how much money has been collected at the door. And that did not include early bar sales. Anyway, the club was packed, and there was little cover charge left to collect.

I paid the band. After that, Johnny, Craig, and I went to La Margarita Restaurant in Round Rock. I’d heard they had great food and, as their name implies, margaritas. I pulled out the remaining cash. I took my cut and gave the balance to Johnny. He never once counted it in our lifetime. At least, not in front of me. Johnny told me that from now on, I will call you “Colonel.” And he did until he died.

“Just pick up the bill for supper, including the bar tab. I hear they have great Mexican Martinis, too,” I said. “I needed one or two, perhaps three. Craig, can you drive?” Knocking out car windows and bluffing club owners always made me thirsty.

Over the next decade, I learned more about getting paid from Larry Trader than anyone else. Larry was cantankerous but an incredible storyteller. I loved him, but he was a “piece of work.” We would have our differences, though.

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Unbeknownst to us, the club owner had bought advertising on the Sammy and Bob Show on KVET FM. Perhaps that’s why he was short on cash. He also shared with Bob Cole that Johnny was staying at my home in Austin. I soon received a call from Bob asking if Johnny would do an interview.

Johnny agreed but asked if it would be okay to bring some friends. He had me call Earl Campbell, Doug English, and James Street. Earl was not available, but Doug and James were.

Back row: James Street, Doug English, Randy Willis, Johnny Rodriguez, and Bob Cole. Sammy Allred is in front. KVET Radio’s Sammy (Allred) and Bob (Cole) Show.

Johnny Rodriguez, Doug English, James Street, and I were on KVET Radio’s Sammy (Allred) and Bob (Cole) Show. Johnny mentioned it was my birthday. Sammy said we (The Geezinslaw Brothers) are playing the Broken Spoke Saturday night. Why don’t y’all come? We’ll celebrate Randy’s birthday too.” We both said yes. Half of Austin showed up. They didn’t go because it was my birthday. They came because Johnny said yes on Austin’s #1 Arbitron-rated show. Their sister station, KASE down the hall, might disagree with that statistic, but you get the point.

One of the questions Bob asked Johnny during the interview was what ended his relationship with Lorrie Morgan. I leaned over and whispered to Johnny, “Don’t go there.” It was my first attempt at his playing manager, and it would not be my last. Johnny never shared any details of his friendship with Laurie Morgan with me. I never asked.

The moment the interview ended, the KVET hotline rang. “Let me speak to Rodriguez,” the voice said.

Bob looked surprised and responded, “May I ask whose calling?”

“Darrell Royal.”

Coach Royal suggested we all meet at the Broken Spoke for lunch. He called the owner, James White, to make arrangements. Coach Royal paid the tab.

We ate at the Broken Spoke, discussed my “birthday party,” and took a group photo at the end of lunch. I’ve included two of them.

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Lana Nelson was engaged to Willie’s attorney, Joe Turner. That Saturday night, Lana and Joe attended the Geesinslaw Brothers’ gig. They also attended my so-called “birthday party” at the Broken Spoke. I am sure they cared nothing about my birthday. Lana introduced Joe Turner to Johnny and me.

Sammy Allred of The Geezinslaws and KVET Radio fame, and me. I once heard him say on KVET, “I saw something I thought I’d never see in Austin. Last night, I was having dinner at a local restaurant. There wasn’t a picture of Randy Willis on the wall.” That was in response to how many photos I had given to Cisco’s Mexican Restaurant, where I often ate. The owner, Rudy “Cisco” Cisneros, nailed every one of them to the wall. Rudy was an Austin legend and dear friend.

At James White’s suggestion, we decided to celebrate Johnny’s birthday a week later. Johnny’s birthday was on the 10th, mine was on the 19th of December, but who cared? We celebrated our birthdays in reverse order that year. Johnny’s birthday party was mentioned on the Sammy and Bob Show on KVET numerous times. I am sure that was also James White’s suggestion.

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The news was out. Johnny Rodriguez would return to the Broken Spoke, and the Nelson family would, too. When asked if Willie would be at the Broken Spoke, James always answered, “You never know who might show up.” Willie had not dropped by in years, and he did not that night.

But Lana Nelson returned to the Broken Spoke for Johnny’s birthday. She informed us that she and Joe Turner had broken off their engagement. Johnny and Lana’s flirtation began that night. It was all innocent and fun. Joe Turner later became my attorney and friend, and he remains so to this day. I love and respect him.

Randy Willis, Lana Nelson, and Johnny Rodriguez. The Broken Spoke.

Let me say parenthetically that years later, when Johnny called me to have lunch, I thought I’d “pull his chain.” I told him I needed to sign some papers at my lawyer’s office. I asked if he minded if we dropped by his office first. When we arrived and walked up to the huge office, Johnny’s expression was priceless. He looked like he had just heard a dog talk when he noticed my lawyer’s shingle beside the front door.

Johnny Rodriguez and Joe Turner

Randy Willis with a friend, and Lana Nelson at the Broken Spoke.

My friend and I with my friend Benny McArthur (George Strait’s Band). The Broken Spoke.

My friend and I with Sister Bobbie Nelson and Doug English—the Broken Spoke.

They started dating. The three of us, four when I had a date, saw each other almost daily. Johnny was on his best behavior, although you couldn’t tell it in this photo.

Lana had plans with her family on Christmas Eve at her Dad’s home in Luck, Texas. Johnny and I decided to watch a “Christmas Classic.” We chose “Adamms Family Values,” which Lana had given to Johnny as a Christmas gift. We loved it and nicknamed one of Lana’s daughters Wednesday Nelson.

Lana called Johnny before we started the movie. She told Johnny, “I mentioned to Daddy that you two will be alone on Christmas Eve. He said, ‘Why don’t you call them and invite them over?'” I wondered how often I got invited to Willie Nelson’s home on Christmas Eve. Never.

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I left with my three sons on New Year’s Eve for Colorado to go skiing. Johnny and Lana attended Rick Trevino’s New Year’s Eve concert at Palmer Auditorium. The next day, I spoke to Johnny on the phone. He told me that Rick asked him to sing “La Bamba” with him. Rick’s Dad then asked Johnny to sing it again with him. I told Johnny, “Two duets on New Year’s Eve and no commission. There go my lift tickets.” Remember, Larry Trader was my mentor. Those who worked with him will understand.

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One evening, January 7, 1995, we met Lana Nelson at Craig Dillingham and Karen Brooks’s condo for a pizza. Johnny asked Lana to marry him that night. She said yes.

With friends’ help, Lana planned and organized the wedding in 72 hours—better than any wedding planner I’d ever seen.

Lana looked beyond beautiful, wearing a black dress that Sharon Ely had made in that narrow window. Sharon and her husband, singer-songwriter Joe Ely, attended the wedding, as did various famous people.

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Johnny and I were assigned the role of inviting whomever we wished. We both agreed that we should ask James and Annetta White first. His better half, Annetta White, is who we always considered the boss. I learned that lesson one night at the Broken Spoke. When my date sat in my lap, Miss Annetta said, “We don’t allow that here.” We both adored them.

Next, I called Darrell Royal, Doug English, James Street, and Earl Campbell. Coach Royal and James Street had prior commitments. Coach Royal asked me how often Johnny and Lana had been married. I did not have the statistics on Lana, but I did have them for Johnny.

Coach Royal responded, “Well, hell, Willie has been married more times than that.” It was Johnny’s second trip down the aisle. Coach Royal could not attend the wedding due to a funeral obligation.

Front Row: Johnny Rodriguez, Lana Nelson, Willie Nelson. Back Row: Doug English, Earl Campbell, and Randy Willis. Luck, Texas, January 10, 1995.

Johnny then called his friend and attorney, Alan Brown, from San Antonio. Allan said he was in the middle of a trial in Houston. He mentioned he would take a plea deal to make it, though. Two days later, Allan was at the wedding. Even though the wedding was on a Tuesday, he made it without the plea bargain that he had jokingly suggested.

We invited an additional short list of family and friends. We got fitted for a Texas Tux. Arranging for Rick Henson to photograph the event was easy. After answering a million phone calls, we got a break the evening before the wedding.

We bought a six-pack of beer. We both agreed a 12-pack would not be wise. We drove to Johnny’s soon-to-be father-in-law’s Pedernales Golf Course, better known as Willie’s Cut ‘N Putt, in Briarcliff, Texas. Willie once said of the course, “Par is whatever I say it is. I’ve got one hole that’s a par 23, and yesterday I damn near birdied the sucker.” I figured we were “par” for that course.

We decided to watch the sunset on the first green. We watched the sun descend behind Willie’s log home high on a hill in the distance. As the darkness fell, we noticed a golf cart speeding towards us, its headlights blinding us. The security for the golf course, golf shop, and recording studio across the parking lot needed to identify us. He wanted to know why we were there.

As he crawled out of the cart, we motioned for him to join us. It was Bucky Meadows, who was security and a great session musician. Bucky played on many best-selling albums, including Willie’s multi-platinum-selling album “Red Headed Stranger” in 1975. Bucky had difficulty finding work in the 1980s.

Willie Nelson, Bucky Meadows, Randy Willis, and Freddy Power. We had been in Willie’s Pedernales Recording Studio cutting a few sides. Willie suggested we take a break and drop into Poodies Hilltop Roadhouse. It was a cold night.

Willie Nelson gave Bucky a place to live and a job. If written, one book could not contain Willie’s acts of kindness. Willie has always insisted no one knew of his good deeds. I doubt he would endorse the book.

Johnny invited Bucky to join us as we sat on the moonlit green. Johnny also asked him to come to the wedding. Bucky responded, “Willie and Lana have already invited me to play an instrumental at the wedding.”

For the first time in two days, we had a moment to discuss the wisdom of this “holy matrimony.” As we began the discussion, Bucky remembered he had dinner on the stove. He was a kind soul.

I had one beer. It was enough to bring up the “elephant in the room.” Or, shall I say, “Elephant teed up on the first green.”

Johnny quickly answered, “I know we have only dated for a few weeks.” He laid out their friendship in chronological order, which had spanned over a couple of decades.

Johnny spoke of a walk on the beach with Lana after a gig in Galveston. He added that they were married or in a relationship whenever they encountered each other. The timing was never right before. He also spoke of his immense respect for her and her family, including her late brother Billy. I asked him if he loved her, and he replied, “Yes, but more importantly, I trust her.”

We did not finish the six-pack. We drove to my home in Austin and crashed before midnight to rest for the big day.

Johnny Rodriguez and Lana Nelson: Tying the Knot

Willie and Lana sat in the front row on the left side of the church. Johnny and I sat in the front row on the right side. Bucky’s instrumental was terrific. Dr. Gerald Mann, founding pastor of Riverbend Church in Austin, officiated the wedding ceremony.

Willie and I were the last two to leave the church because we were in the front row. Willie asked me a question. It was just as Rick Henson took a photograph. Willie looked me straight in the eyes after I picked up Johnny’s guitar. He asked, “Do you think they will make it? I do.” I suppose that is the question every father asks, hoping it will.

“I responded, “I do, too.” And I meant it, but with a caveat in my mind, “If he can stay straight.”

Willie Nelson and Randy Willis. Luke, Texas Church

After the ceremony, Johnny and Lana drove to Lana’s home on Fitzhugh Road. Her home on Barton Creek was located between Dripping Springs and Austin. I followed with Johnny’s belongings, including his clothes and guitar. Willie arrived with what I assumed was a wedding gift. We both then excused ourselves.

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I guess you peed on that knot, too. —Pastor Dr. Gerald Mann

The marriage lasted until August, but they separated long before that. Not long after their divorce, we ran into Pastor Gerald Mann, who officiated the wedding. It was on the opening night for the Ben Willie Darrell.

It was held that year at the Renaissance Hotel in Austin, located at the Arboretum. Coach Royal insisted that his name always be listed after those of Willie Nelson and Ben Crenshaw.

Coach Royal was one of the humblest people I’ve known. He was also the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known. Only Willie, his sister Bobbie Nelson, and my father compare, and that includes preachers, TV evangelists, and assorted soothsayers.

Gerald Mann was a close friend of Willie and Coach Royal. He grew up in West Columbia, 20 miles from my hometown, Angleton.

Gerald Mann approached Johnny at the event and said, “I guess you peed on that knot, too.” Pastor Gerald then turned and walked away, never smiling.

Standing beside us was six-time all-around rodeo world champion Larry Mahan, who asked me, “What was that about?”

Johnny Rodriguez, two friends, Randy Willis, and Larry Mahan. The Ben Willie Darrell opening night at The Renaissance Hotel at the Arboretum in Austin.

“A preacher,” I said. “They make them that way where I grew up in Brazoria County. Sometimes their messages are a mystery, though.”

“He reminds me of a bullfighter I once knew,” Larry said.

Johnny asked me, “What the hell did he mean?”

I replied, “Do you remember right before we were to walk into the church at your wedding? We decided we’d best visit the facilities, the woods.” There were few bathrooms on the movie set—and none near us.

“When Pastor Gerald Mann arrived, he asked where you were, and someone pointed to the trees. You “urinated” on yourself when he approached from behind and put his hand on your shoulder.”

Pastor Gerald said, “Follow me; I’m the one who will tie your wedding knot. A tight knot.”

Johnny asked me, “How did you remember all that?”

“If you had ever looked down at your blue jeans, you would have remembered, too.” Johnny looked puzzled.

Larry Mahan laughed hard for a minute or two. I didn’t dare laugh and changed the subject, “Hey, there’s Jimmy Dean. I have always wanted to meet him.” I have eaten Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage since that night. Hand to God, that’s true. And the truth is, all males have done that, too. However, perhaps not as they walked into a church full of your new bride’s family and friends.

Randy Willis and Jimmy Dean. The Ben Willie Darrell opening night at The Renaissance Hotel at the Arboretum in Austin.

But I did get to know Gerald better at later events. After his first wife’s death, he married Sandy, a Sigma Nu fraternity brother, Jerry Hinnenkamp’s former wife. Jerry died in a tragic skydiving accident in San Marcos.

Sandy, Jerry, and I went to college together in San Marcos. We attended Southwest Texas State University, which is now known as Texas State University. We started families in Wimberley around the same time. Her first husband, Jerry, and she were close friends to my then-wife and me in Wimberley. I had no clue she had married Gerald Mann. It was a wonderful reunion.

Pastor Dr. Gerald Mann and his wife, Sandy, with Doug English. The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic. Barton Creek Country Club.

Rumors were everywhere concerning Johnny and Lana’s divorce. I denied them all until my hero, Coach Darrell K Royal, called one day. I was shocked. I had just read on that day’s Austin American-Statesman’s front page a headline that concerned him. It said Texas Memorial Stadium would be named after him. But his call had nothing to do with that.

His question was, “I saw where Johnny is playing Dallas Nightclub tonight. Can you make arrangements?”

“Coach, I’m no longer working with Johnny.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “Can I ask you a question? I would never ask if you still worked with him?”

“Sure, Coach.”

“What was he doing when Edith and I had dinner with you and him at Rosie’s Tamale House? Was he doing more than drinking beer? Edith believed he was on drugs. I told her she was imagining things.”

Now, my father’s advice came to mind, “The truth is your only choice when asked a question. If you can’t do that, keep your mouth shut.” My mother always quoted scripture: “It is better to suffer for doing right than for doing wrong.”

“Yes, sir, Coach, Miss Edith was right.” I know, I just threw Johnny under the proverbial bus.

“Edith is usually right about these things,” Coach said.

Then Coach Royal became very serious. “I was playing golf with Willie the other day. I asked him if any rumors about Johnny’s treatment of Lana were true. When Willie turned and walked away without answering, I knew my question upset him.” Willie believed in Karma, and you should never speak badly of anyone.

Willie’s song In God’s Eyes is a testament to that. It begins with “Never think evil thoughts of anyone. It’s just as wrong to think as to say for a though is but a word that’s unspoken In God’s eyes He sees it that way.”

Then Coach Royal asked me, one by one, if this or that rumor was true. He had exact details of each one, to my surprise. I answered “Yes, sir, Coach” to every question.

“Did you witness any of this?” Coach Royal asked.

“No, sir, if I had, there would have been a fight (not the exact words I used).” But Coach Royal and I were now speaking “where the rubber meets the road.” For the rest of his life, we spoke frankly. We talked frankly with each other when it was just the two of us.

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Coach Royal was not the only one to speak honestly. There was another, Lana Nelson, but she would often do it with humor.

I thought of that when Lana said she enrolled Johnny in a 12-Step Program. That was when she shoved him down a flight of stairs during one of the “incidents.” Lana joked numerous times about that.

Like her father, Willie, she had a way of joking about serious situations. Kinky Friedman wrote that story, too, in one of his books that I can’t seem to find. We all know it was no laughing matter. Sometimes it boils down to the choice of laughing or crying when life throws you a “curveball.”

Coach Royal paused. After our conversation about Johnny, he said, The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic is coming up. You’re invited as always. However, Johnny is not welcome. I was beginning to feel like Judas Iscariot. The dye had been cast, and there was no going back.

Coach Royal explained, “And I’ll tell you why he will never be allowed to return.” I was all ears. “The reason is not only that Willie might be offended, but I’d never know if he was offended. He would never mention it.” I thought then as I do today. “Lord, give one ounce of these two men’s character.”

In closing, I finally got the opportunity to say, “Congratulations,” about the morning newspaper. I knew I had to mention it, for he never would have.

Coach Royal responded, “Oh, that happened when the chairman of the University of Texas Board of Regents called me. He said we need to meet with you at your home. I told Edith that the only reason they would make a trip to our home is to fire me. They had never met at our house for a meeting before.”

Coach Royal was serving as special assistant to the President of UT on athletic programs at the time. He told me he had prepared in his mind to accept the news gracefully. He also planned to express his gratitude to them for the opportunity to serve the university.

The representatives from the board of regents informed Coach Royal of their decision when they arrived. They had voted to name the UT football stadium after him. He was shocked. But they wanted and needed his permission.

Coach Royal told them he agreed, but only if the name ‘Texas Memorial Stadium’ remained on the stadium as well. Coach Royal was a member of our greatest generation who served in World War II.

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The truth would draw us closer as friends over the years. I began to consider him as a surrogate father. I was far from being the only one I discovered. Coach Royal and Willie Nelson formed friendships and gained admirers throughout the decades. They treated people kindly, even those who could do nothing for them.

Coach Royal once told me, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t worry who gets the credit.”

Ben Crenshaw, Willie Nelson, and Darrell Royal. The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic.

Kimarie and Randy Willis at The Ben Willie Darrell Reunion

Randy Willis, Kimarie, and Willie at the Ben Willie Darrell Youth Classic

Randy Willis, Kimarie, and Darrell Royal. Randy Willis: Concert sponsor for The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic

Randy Willis also produced concerts that benefited the Ben Willie Darrell.

Randy Willis and Mack Brown. The Headliners Club. Austin, Texas.

The Ben Willie Darrell event concluded after 30 years. I thought of recreating Coach Royal’s pickin’ parties at my home. I held them for years, and Coach Royal never missed one. Several years into the annual event, I reached out to Coach Royal. I wanted to ask about his choice of date for the event that year. He asked, “Why don’t you invite Johnny?” I did, and Johnny was thrilled.

When I called Johnny, he asked me one of his loaded questions: “Do you want me to sound good, Colonel?” I thought, here it comes.

“Absolutely, Boy Wonder.”

“Will you pay Gary Goss, and Mike Hammock to back me up?” He then added, “I’d like to go on first.” I thought that was not a good sign, but their performance was excellent. You can watch it on YouTube.

After Johnny opened with a five-song set, Coach asked me to show him where my master bathroom was. I assumed the line was too long for the bathroom in the hall. When we reached my master suite, Coach asked me, “What the hell has he done to himself?”

“Drugs, Coach.”

“Why in the hell would anyone do that to themselves?” Coach gasped. This was the first time Coach had seen Johnny since his massive weight loss. He looked unhealthy and much older than at their last visit. They never saw each other again.

Randy Willis, Johnny Rodriguez, and Darrell Royal. Randy Willis’s annual Pickin’ Party honoring Coach Darrell K Royal.

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Texas Monthly used a photo of Willie, Johnny, Lana, and me at the wedding. They also used a picture of Johnny and me at Garner State Park. We were sitting on a picnic table as kids in 1966. I now had my 15 minutes of “fame,” as Andy Warhol once said.

The article concerned a far more severe matter than his divorce. The front cover featured a former boyfriend of Lorrie Morgan, Troy Aikman. Neither one of us missed that coincidence. I write about this in the following article in my newsletter: Johnny Rodriguez: A Tragedy Beyond Comprehension—another shameless plug.

My interview with Texas Monthly caused Johnny to call me and ask, “What kind of left-handed compliment was that?

“The truth, Johnny, the truth.”

“Why did you let them take that gangster photo? You looked like John Dillinger,” I said. Johnny did not answer. The interview was conducted in the office of Johnny’s attorney, Alan Brown, in San Antonio.

I once read that Willie said, which means he may or may not have said it, “The only thing that matters is they spell your name right.” Surely, that doesn’t apply to that photo.

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In 1998, Johnny once again dropped by my home unannounced. I was reading a new book entitled Willie Nelson Sings America by Steven Opdyke. In the section The Duets and Collaborations with Texas Artists I saw Johnny’s name on page 327.

As I read, I thought this was a coincidence, or was it? As I read the excerpt about Johnny aloud, I noticed that he huffed and puffed as he walked off. “What did you expect her to say? It was a Sunday picnic,” I said.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve studied the Word of God. I no longer believe in luck or happenstance. I don’t believe in being in the right place at the right time. Our choices and God’s sovereignty determine our destiny. George Jones’ song “Choices illiterates” that truth. He was nearly killed while playing Choices for his stepdaughter over the phone. A small bottle of vodka was later found in his vehicle. God uses many ways to speak to us. The question is, are we listening?

Steven Opdyke writes: “During one interview I had with Willie, Lana was there. When she walked in, he said, ‘did you know Lana was married to Johnny? Then he laughed and said, ‘yeah, for about twenty minutes.’ Lana looked over and laughed as well, adding, ‘no, it was more like eighteen minutes, the longest eighteen minutes of my life.”

“They’re working while I’m missing you—those healing hands of time.” Healing Hands of Time by Willie Nelson

Willie Nelson and Randy Willis. Austin City Limits

Willie Nelson and Randy Willis. Austin City Limits

Kimarie, Randy Willis, and Coach Darrell Royal. Randy Willis’ Austin Home

Randy Willis and James Garner. Barton Creek Country Club

Willie Nelson, Sister Bobbie Nelson, and Randy Willis. Luckenbach, Texas

My three sons, Adam, Josh, and Aaron Willis, with Freddy Power and Jimmy Day. Easter Sunday, Luckenbach, Texas. Freddy and Jimmy are kidding with Josh about his long hair in the second photo. It is almost as long as theirs.

Sonny Throckmorton, Gary P. Nunn, Bill McDavid, Freddy Power, & Randy Willis The Rogers & Hammerhead Show

The Jimmy Clay Golf Course in South Austin, Texas

A proud crew below showcasing a quart of “water.” We had received it as a gift from a songwriter friend Rock Killough from Alabama.

Location: Bill McDavid’s home at Willie Nelson’s Pedernales Cut-N-Putt Golf Club.

We had sampled some of the “water” after a round of golf on Willie’s 9-hole golf course.

While shooting pool that day, the phone rang. Since I was the person closest to the phone, I reached for it. When I did Coach Royal said, “Randy, if that’s Edith, tell her I’ll come home when I’m damn good and ready!”

Before I could get the phone to my ear Coach added, “And tell her that I’m damn good and ready, right now!”

We were like kids in a candy store of music, golf, and friendship. L to R: Sonny Throckmorton, Randy Willis, Coach Darrell Royal, and Freddy Powers. The Saxon Pub Austin, Texas

Willie Nelson’s Other Daughters

I rented the almost ghost town, Luckenbach, Texas, for a two-day Memorial Day event. It has a population of three. Johnny Rodriguez was the headliner. I also decided to ask Willie’s daughter, Paula Nelson, to join the lineup.

Paula agreed to do a couple of radio interviews to promote the event. We started at KFAN FM 107.9, in Fredericksburg, near Luckenbach. It was her first radio interview for a gig.

Today, she hosts Willie’s Roadhouse on SiriusXM, Channel 59. I love her show. She has a natural down-to-earth way about her and, like her father, a kind soul. I am a fan.

After the KFAN interview, I asked Paula why she was not working with Larry Trader. She replied, “When I asked Daddy about Larry, he said, “Things with Larry are not always as they appear.” I soon learned how true that was.

Jerry Jeff Walker’s wife, Susan, had the idea for a Luckenbach event. They had done the same at Luckenbach for several years. Karen Brooks introduced me to Susan. If I remember correctly, they limited the tickets to 400 fans. Each ticket would be $50. The entire town was closed off to the public for the event.

Jerry Jeff and Susan would have a meal on the picnic tables with their fans, then he would perform. I thought, what a perfect way to perk your fan club and in an incredible setting. What a smart woman Susan was and is.

I shared the details with Willie’s longtime associate and my friend Larry Trader. He asked if he could ride with me the next time I went there. I was going to meet with VelAnne Howe, who ran the place. I thought that was nice of Larry. He has such an interest in my gig and is willing to travel and support me. I soon learned he could not have cared less.

Randy Willis, Johnny Rodriguez, and Larry Trader. Rosie’s Tamale House Bee Caves, Texas

The next day we met with VelAnne. We sat on a picnic table. To my surprise, Larry and VelAnne mapped out the details for Willie’s first picnic at Luckenbach.

Well, that was okay; after all, Susan Walker had given me the idea. But how would that announcement to the public affect my Memorial Day event? It was just two months before the 4th of July.

Why pay to see Rodriguez now? You can see him in two months at the same venue. There will be tons of other artists, including Willie and Paula. I was happy when I broke even.  When I mentioned it to Willie, he said, “Welcome to show business.”

That night, I had dinner with Johnny Rodriguez. We dined at his new bride Lana Nelson’s home. The house is located on Fitzhugh Road near Dripping Springs, Texas.

With sincerest interest, Lana asked me for the details of our upcoming event at Luckenbach.

I shared with her, “It appears your father may be having one too at Luckenbach, on the 4th of July.

Then, I decided to share with Lana something I thought was amusing, in fact, unusual, at least in my world.

VelAnne Howe asked Larry Trader a question as we sat on the picnic table. She asked, “How much will our local opening acts be paid?”  You said yesterday they could start at noon.”

Larry replied, lifting his writing tablet high, “It goes on their resume. They can tell everyone they opened for Willie.”

Lana looked me straight in the eyes and said, “He said what?”

Before I could answer, she got up from the dinner table. She excused herself and picked up a phone in another room. Then, she called Willie.

When she hung up the phone, she told Johnny and me, “They will be paid.”

I knew it was coming. Larry copped an attitude towards me on the 4th of July Picnic at Luckenbach.

When Johnny’s bus arrived, he pointed at a location about 500 yards from the stage. “Park it there,” he said.

Larry was driving a cart that had been used earlier to haul equipment. I asked him, “Can our band throw a couple of amps and such on the cart?”

“If you want a friend, get a dog,” he said as he drove off.

A year or two later, Paula Nelson called me from Los Angeles.  She was playing a gig with the rockabilly group Stray Cats at The House of Blues.

She wanted to know if I could find her a bus for the 4th of July Picnic. I called my old friend Johnny Lyon, who owned several buses and a bus barn in South Austin.

He said, “Sure, if Paula can get me two onstage passes, she can have the bus free. I will drive it to Luckenbach the morning of the gig.”

Lyon’s then said, “I’ve got to see my hero, Waylon Jennings. You know he’s never been there, even though he and Willie had their monster hit, “Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas.”

Paula agreed to the deal after making a phone call. When Johnny Lyon arrived early that day, he told Larry Trader, “This bus is for Paula Nelson per Randy Willis.” Larry had the bus parked next to the stage and Willie’s private bus behind the yellow police caution tape. I’m sure using my name had nothing to do with that decision. No other artist was allowed to park there. Not even Willie’s band.

The bus was the same one Johnny Lyon often leased. In 1997, he leased it to the producers of the Selena movie with Jennifer Lopez.

The buses Lyon leased to George Strait’s Pure Country film’s producers in 1992 were different.

Johnny Lyon had a country music band named the Country Nu-Notes. I met him when I was in college at Southwest Texas State University in San Marcos, Texas (now known as Texas State University). He taught the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps, better known as ROTC. My friend from Angleton High, Glen Hardwick, was a member and introduced us.

I once tried to get Lyon to hire another friend from Sabinal, Johnny Rodriguez, to front his band. Lyon said, “No Mexican will ever make it in country music.”

Lyon was also a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel and hated marijuana.  I had forgotten to tell Johnny about the “tobacco rider” for Paula Nelson.

As it turned out, it didn’t matter. He missed most of Willie’s 4th of July Picnic, including Waylon’s set. I thought he had started acting strangely. He soon fell asleep with a contact high in the back of the bus.

I told him later, “I’m going to tell all our friends you were stoned out at Luckenbach.”  He failed to see the humor.

Although I never had a desire to smoke pot, I was in an industry that did. I did a “Bill Clinton” aka “didn’t inhale” once or twice, or maybe three or four times with Willie.  I can’t remember for some reason. How could I say no to Willie? Coach Royal told me Willie asked him, “Have you ever smoked pot?’

When Coach Royal said no, Willie asked, “If you ever do, will you do it with me first?” I don’t believe Coach ever did, but if he did, only Willie would know.

I thought this was not a serendipitous moment during Willie Nelson’s Fourth of July Picnic in Luckenbach.

I stood on stage with Jimmy Day. Willie’s former wife, Connie Nelson, joined us, as did her and Willie’s two daughters, Paula and Amy Nelson. Jimmy looked at Paula and Amy and said, “You girls wouldn’t be here if it were not for me. I had introduced your mama to Willie.”

I added, “Jimmy, they would not be here if my Daddy had not taught you your first licks on the steel.”

The girls had no clue what I was saying. Jimmy Day responded, “You got that right.”

Paula Nelson, Randy Willis, and Amy Nelson. Johnny Lyon’s “rented” bus. Luckenbach, Texas

Connie Nelson, Amy Nelson, Paula Nelson, and Randy Willis. On stage at Luckenbach, Texas, moments before she joins her father, Willie Nelson, to perform. My favorite duet of Paula and Willie’s is: “Have You Ever Seen the Rain.”

Susie Nelson, Randy Willis, Paula Nelson, and Jon Lacey. Luckenbach, Texas

Susie Nelson and I would sometimes talk on the phone at night, solving the world’s problems. One night, she called and was upset. She ran into Larry Trader at the convenience store at the bottom of the hill. Larry said, “I suppose you’re in town to get your ‘cut?'” Susie added that she called Willie to complain. I had to ask, “What did he say?”

“Just pray for him, honey.”

Another time, Susie called me and mentioned she’d called her daddy about an issue with her sister Lana. Once again, I asked, “What did he say?”

“This sounds like a sibling rivalry.”

I knew Willie’s policy with his entire organization was never to take sides. I learned he practiced that with his children, too. Later, as my three sons got older, I often “borrowed” those answers from Willie.

One night, for supper at Lana’s home, she cooked Johnny and me steaks and homemade apple pie. I could not help but ask, “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“From my mama,” she said. Lana added, “Once, I took a tray of homemade enchiladas to the band. They were so impressed. Daddy asked me later in private, ‘Where did you learn to cook this good?'”

“From Mama.”

“I don’t remember her cooking that good when we were married.”

Later, Lana shared Willie’s remarks to her mother. “That’s because when I was married to him, all we could afford was bologna,” Lana’s mama said.

When Lana told Willie what your mama said, Willie smiled and said, “She’s right about that.”

Willie Nelson also had a policy: “If you’re wired, you’re fired.” No controlled substances were allowed. Cocaine and Speed were “Persona non grata.”

I often visited the Cut ‘N Putt Pro Golf Shop, located at Willie’s 9-hole Pedernales Golf Club. I went there to listen to Larry Trader tell stories. He ran that operation and was a master storyteller. One morning, Larry called about something I can’t recall, but it required a visit.

We were all alone until Willie pulled up in his pickup. Larry had called him earlier about something he had read in a newspaper. I overheard Larry in the tiny room as he read an article. The article claimed Willie was growing thousands of acres of marijuana in the Texas Hill Country. Willie smiled and said, “Bless their hearts.”

As he drove off, I told Larry, “That’s the Christian way to respond.”

“You don’t understand,” Larry said. “When Willie says, Bless their heart, he means F—-them.”

I am sure glad Willie never said, Bless your heart to me. Well, maybe he did, and I never knew it.

Randy Willis, David Allan Coe, and Jon Lacey. Luckenbach, Texas.

Randy Willis, Ray Price, and Aaron Willis. On stage at Luckenbach, Texas

Visiting with Coach Royal at Querencia Assisted Living at Barton Creek

Dedicated to Ben “Lovey” Dorcy, who would have been 100 last week. The King of the Roadies. Roadie and friend of Willie Nelson and other assorted “outlaws,” including John Wayne.

Ben Dorcy and Randy Willis Easter Sunday, 2004 in Luck, Texas

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Epilogue

Goodbye, my old friend. I miss those days when we swam in the frigid waters of the Frio River as teenagers. And our number one concern was if the girls’ mother we met would feed us. And who would dance “The Garner Whip” the best to the music of the Garner jukebox?

Hitchhiking to Old Mexico with less than $20 between us and sleeping under a roadside table. And what goat would be in harm’s way under the Texas moonlit skies? And friends that are still friends. God, I loved it. I miss those days—the days before innocence was lost.

And yes, let’s do it again, as our friend B.J. Thomas sang as a teenager, “Let’s Go to Garner State Park.” Perhaps there is a Garner in Heaven.

Johnny Rodriguez and Randy Willis return to the Bob Davis Ranch. It is near Garner State Park. We came back after 25 years with Country Weekly. I yelled to the goats, “Run, he killed your grandma.”

Someone yelled to us: “You guys look gay (not the word they used). So, we crossed our legs and had this photo taken. Left to right: Johnny Rodriguez, Randy Willis, and friends. Garner State Park. Easter 1969. In two months, the 4th of July will be celebrated. During this celebration, the one on the far left was arrested. It was for stealing a goat. If it had not been for that goat, this article would never have been written.

Dedicated to Melanie Clark

I could write a book on Johnny Rodriguez’s relationships, but discretion is the better part of valor,” and who cares?” But I will add Melanie Clark. She is the woman who has kept the wheels from coming off Johnny’s “bus” for the last half century. We have been friends since the early 1970s. No, you will not find her on social media.

Melanie has handled Johnny’s accounting and financial issues for decades. She orchestrated the sale of his last home, located at 1440 Otter Creek Road in Nashville. The house has since been torn down.

The following photos seem to imply Melanie and I were more than friends. We never dated. We have remained friends for over 50 years. This friendship is far better than any romance. I love you, Mel.

Johnny Rodriguez, Melanie Clark, and Randy Willis

Randy Willis and Melanie Clark. Johnny Rodriguez’s hotel room. Four Seasons Hotel Austin, Texas. We met in Johnny’s room to head to breakfast at Cisco’s Restaurant in East Austin. I have threatened Melanie over the years that I might release this photo. She said, “I’ve heard worse rumors about me, but I can’t remember when.” We have remained friends since 1972. She did Johnny’s accounting and tax returns until his death. One of my best friends for over a half-century.

Randy Willis, Sally Chapman with KKYX Radio in San Antonio, Melanie Clark, and Johnny Rodriguez with the Texas State Capitol in the background. Four Seasons Hotel Austin, Texas. We met in Johnny’s room to head to breakfast at Cisco’s Restaurant in East Austin.

Breakfast at Cisco’s Restaurant in East Austin.

Vaya con Dios Boy Wonder. The “Colonel”

Award-winning master storyteller Randy Willis—books about adventure, family, and faith.

Randy Willis is as much at home in the saddle as he is in front of the computer, where he composes his family sagas.

Randy draws on his family’s heritage of explorers, settlers, soldiers, cowboys, and pastors. He carries on the tradition of loving the outdoors. Randy shares it through the adventures he creates in his short stories, biographies, and novels.

Randy Willis is the author of 19 books. These include Destiny, Beckoning Candle, Twice a Slave, Three Winds Blowing, Texas Wind, and Louisiana Wind. Additionally, he authored The Apostle to the Opelousas. He also wrote The Story of Joseph Willis and his autobiography, “To the Best of My Recollection.”

Twice a Slave has been chosen as a Jerry B. Jenkins Select Book, along with four best-selling authors. Jerry Jenkins is the author of more than 200 books. His works have sold over 70 million copies. This includes the best-selling Left Behind series.

Twice a Slave has been adapted into a dramatic play at Louisiana Christian University by Dr. D. “Pete” Richardson (Associate Professor of Theater).

Randy Willis owns Randy Willis Music Publishing. It is an ASCAP-affiliated music publishing company. He also owns Town Lake Music Publishing, LLC. This is a BMI-affiliated music publishing company.

Randy Willis is an ASCAP-affiliated songwriter. He was an artist manager and TV producer.

Randy Willis is a Texas Hill Country Rancher.

Randy Willis founded Operation Warm Heart in 1991. It provides food and clothing to those in need in Central Texas.

Randy Willis was a member of the Board of Directors of Our Mission Possible in Austin, Texas. This organization empowers at-risk teens to discover their greatness.

Randy Willis was a charter member of the Board of Trustees of the Joseph Willis Institute for Great Awakening Studies at Louisiana College (Louisiana Christian University).

Randy Willis served on the Board of Directors of the Austin Apartment Association for four years. He was on the Board of Directors of the Texas Apartment Association for the same duration.

Randy Willis was born in Oakdale, Louisiana, and lived as a boy near Longleaf, Louisiana, and Barber Creek.

He currently resides in the Texas Hill Country near his three sons and their families.

Randy Willis graduated from Angleton High School in Angleton, Texas, and Texas State University in San Marcos, Texas.

Randy Willis was a graduate student at Texas State University for six years. He is the father of three sons and has six grandchildren.

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Randy Willis Website: https://www.threewindsblowing.com

Randy Willis Newsletter, Short Stories & Biographies: https://randywillisbooks.com/

Books on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores

Randy-Willis/author/B00KU6EH94

512.565.0161

randywillisnovelist@gmail.com

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Four bestselling authors’ books, including Randy Willis’s Twice a Slave, have been chosen as a Jerry B. Jenkins Select Book. Jerry Jenkins is a 21-time New York Times bestselling author. He has written more than 200 books. The Left Behind series, his best-selling work, has sold more than 70 million copies.

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My life is but a footnote to the following Good News. —Randy Willis.

Vaya con Dios Boy Wonder. The “Colonel”

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Many today have just enough religion to inoculate them from knowing Christ. —Randy Willis

Choose your Destiny

Hell and Destruction are never full; So the eyes of man are never satisfied. —Proverbs 27:20

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There are insatiable desires in man of appetites, recognition, money, and lust. Many are always wanting more, bigger, and better things. This is nothing new.

For Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light. —2 Corinthians 11:14

The eyes of man are never satisfied, the scripture records. Our restless heart that cannot find contentment in worldly possessions. We seem to be always seeking more.

Man has a hole in his heart. It’s a void, an emptiness. We can never fill it with relationships or money. Nor an endless array of entertainment, stimulants. Family and religion cannot fill this emptiness either.

Why? Only God can fill the “hole in our hearts.” Jesus Christ can and will satisfy that sense of longing and emptiness. We are designed—created—for God alone to occupy our souls: our heart, our mind, our will, our emotions.

For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. —Psalm 139:13 

We need a personal relationship with the Lord of Creation, Jesus. This means a one-on-one connection with God in the Flesh. Jesus, the Christ of the Bible, fulfills this role. He alone can fill the longings of our hearts.

Millions try pills, drugs, and alcohol. History is littered with those who have taken this route. Some try education, career, family, and religion. My friend, only Jesus can fill the longing in our hearts. He alone can fill the hole in your heart—your soul —your mind.

Jesus loves you. He came to this earth because of that love. Jesus was beaten, and a crown of thorns was pressed into his head. His beard was plucked out. He was nailed to a cross naked. Shedding his blood, God’s blood for you and me.

His coat was gambled for. And dying high on that hill called Calvary—while his beloved mother wept. His disciples, who had witnessed His miracles, all fled—save one. Despised, mocked, and rejected, he prayed.

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” And they divided His garments and cast lots. —Luke 23:34

All of this for you and me. That’s how much he loves you and me.

Do you want joy and peace, and a sense of purpose? Do you long to know why the Holy God in Heaven created you? Is his intent to jerk you up by the “nap of your shirt” and then condemn you with a smirk? Not hardly.

For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. —John 3:17

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Is your heart broken? Have your dreams failed? Are you overwhelmed? Are you oppressed? Jesus said in Like 4:18:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, Because He has anointed Me To preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to the captives And recovery of sight to the blind, To set at liberty those who are oppressed. —Luke 4:18

Join me on the most extraordinary destiny ever offered to mankind.

This most extraordinary destiny ever offered to mankind.

You are of purer eyes than to behold evil, And cannot look on wickedness. —Habakkuk 1:13

The Lord God in Heaven cannot look upon sin, for He is Holy. Yet He loves us, sinful man, and has provided a way for us to be reconciled to Him. To spend eternity with Him.

This is the story of this most extraordinary destiny ever offered to mankind.

Let’s begin with the last invitation in the Word of God, it is in Revelation 22:17:

“And the Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come!’ And let him who hears say, ‘Come!’ And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely.” —Revelation 22:17

Are you thirsty? Then come. Let him who hears come. And whosoever will, can come.

The invitation is to you—to me—to “whosoever will”—to everyone!

Bring your disappointments, failures, fears, and heartaches. The Holy Spirit says, Come to Jesus, our Savior.

God loves you. He wants to save you. He will save you. Come to Jesus, and drink the water of life freely.

Christ suffered, He bled, He died because He loves you and me. Listen to the still voice of the Holy Spirit, bidding you come to Jesus.

Don’t wait—come today! The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 6:2 today is the day of salvation.

The Ends of the Earth

Look to Me, and be saved, All you ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other. —Isaiah 45:22

All you ends of the earth” includes the Aboriginal people of the Central Australian desert.

All you ends of the earth” are those in darkest Africa.

All you ends of the earth” are the isolated tribes in the Amazon rainforest in Brazil.

All you ends of the earth” are presidents, world leaders, and kings.

All you ends of the earth” is the polished lawyer, the gifted doctor, and the brilliant college professor.

All you ends of the earth” is the prostitute. It is the drug dealer. It is the rapist. It is the thief. It is the murderer.

All the ends of the earth is me—and you. Come today!

Why a Bronze Serpent

“So Moses made a bronze serpent, and put it on a pole; and so it was if a serpent had bitten anyone when he looked at the bronze serpent, he lived. —Numbers 21:19

Bronze represents judgment. The serpent is destructive, deceptive, and the most dangerous creature you will ever encounter. He is our adversary and the father of all lies. His name is Satan.

He does not appear with horns, a red cape, and an ugly face. Instead, he appears as an angel of light and says, what harm can what I offer do? No one will know. No one will be hurt.

It’s your body. You are in control. You can be your own god. You can be like god. No one can tell you what you can and can’t do. He is Satan, and he comes to destroy God’s most cherished and loved creation: You.

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. —John 10:10

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Satan transforms himself into an angel of light. “Take a little cocaine,” Satan whispers. “It will make you feel good. No one will know. You’re not hurting anyone.”

The Greek term pharmakeia, in the Bible, is the root of the word “pharmacy,” in English.  Pharmakeia is used in the New Testament (Galatians 5:20; Revelation 9:21; 18:23) to describe sorcery, witchcraft, and drug-related magic.

Jesus says, He has come that we may have life and have it more abundantly. Choose an abundant life in Jesus today.

You don’t need hangouts, hangups, or hangovers. You need a personal relationship with the Lord of Creation, who created the Universe and you. Jesus is His name.

In that relationship lies your future, your blessed Hope, your salvation, and your joy. And your Christ blood bought destiny. Choose your destiny today. It has already been paid for with Jesus’s blood on the cross of Calvary. But you must accept God’s free gift of eternal life. That is done through faith in Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection.

“For Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light.” —2 Corinthians 11:14

You and I have been bitten by sin, like the Israelite’s who followed Moses out of Egyptian bondage.

The Israelites had to choose whether to put their faith in God. It was a simple act of faith, but a life-or-death decision. We too face such a choice.

Those who looked lived.
Those who looked were healed.
Those who looked were made whole.
Those who looked were saved.
They didn’t wait until they were better people.
They didn’t have to touch it.
They just looked.

Jesus tells us in John 3:14-15 that this is a picture of Him being lifted up on the Cross of Calvary.

And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. —John 3:14-15

The bronze serpent represented the people’s sin. According to the Scriptures, Christ was made sin for us.

Will you look to Jesus?—will you put your trust in Him?—the One who died for your sins.

Will you put your faith in Jesus?—the One who shed His lifeblood for you—and me.

My son Aaron Willis’s Automobile Accident

Some years ago, my eldest son, Aaron, was in an automobile accident. His back was broken so severely that the doctors said he might not ever walk again.

Several vertebrae in his lower back were fused. After that, he was able to begin the long task of healing from the spinal fusion surgery. He was encased in a rigid plastic back brace from his neck to his waist.

Later, his doctor agreed to let him briefly remove the brace and shower as long as someone was with him.

I was driving to pick Aaron and his brothers up for the weekend. Unbeknownst to me, his brother Josh helped him remove the brace as instructed by the doctor. Aaron could take a hot shower in his shorts. Josh was with him, but was much smaller than Aaron at that time. Aaron’s doctor approved all of this.

I began to exit to stop at the Austin post office on St. Johns, off Interstate 35, when a small but clear voice said, “You need to go now.”

I passed the post office exit. I drove as fast as possible to Wimberley, an hour away. I wondered what that warning was about.

There were no cell phones then. As I entered their mother’s home, I asked his mother where Aaron was. She said in the shower.

I ran to it, and the moment I entered the bathroom, Aaron said, “Dad, I’m dizzy.”

I stepped into the shower and placed my arms under his arms from his back. He immediately passed out.

I told Josh to help me move him to a bed while their mother called 911. His dead weight was more than I could have imagined.

We got him onto his bed without re-injuring his back. I knew if he had fallen, he probably would have been paralyzed.

I prayed as I followed the ambulance to the emergency room at Austin’s Seton Medical Center. I noticed the symbol on the back of the ambulance.

It was the American Medical Association’s (AMA) logo of a serpent wrapped around a staff.

The sign of healing medicine reminded me of the bronze serpent on the staff lifted up by Moses. Christians believe that’s where the symbol originated.

But, more importantly, it reminded me of Jesus being lifted up on a cross for my son. God’s son suffered in place of my son.

To this day, I cannot see that symbol without giving thanks to the Lord for that warning. I remember the shed blood of Christ lifted high upon a cross. It was for my sins, your sins, and the entire world’s sins.

When we arrived at the hospital’s emergency room, the doctors gave him intravenous (IV) fluids. They also gave him two bottles of Gatorade for dehydration.

The hot shower, combined with pain medication and dehydration, caused his blood to rush to his feet. This resulted in him fainting.

Look

Will you look to the One lifted up on a cross for you and me? Will you look to the Great Physician—Jesus—to heal you of all your pain, emptiness, and disappointments?

Will you look to Jesus? He took your place on the cross and died for your sins. Through Him alone, you can be made new, whole, and born again.

Choose

Jesus hung between two thieves (criminals) on a cross. One rejected Him, but the other put his faith in Him.

“Will You remember me when You enter Your kingdom?” one thief asks.

Jesus replied, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Both of those men were guilty of crimes serious enough to warrant the Roman death penalty. One put his trust in Jesus, and the other chose not to.

The question is, which thief on the cross are you? The one who said yes or the one who said no?

Now, there was the third cross that day. It was for another criminal named Barabbas, and he represents us.

Jesus was crucified on a cross meant for Barabbas—it was your cross—it was my cross, too.

Come

Come just as you are.

Will you say yes to Jesus—today?

There’s a Scripture that I love, and it explains things so clearly even I can understand.

If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart, man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth, confession is made unto salvation. —Romans 10:9-10

You can settle this question in heaven and on earth today. Say yes to Jesus. Accept His pardon, just as that one thief did on the cross. There are no prescriptive or mandated words. Praying is just talking to the Lord.

Open

Jesus said, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” — Revelation 3:20

Ask

Self-improvement will not qualify you for salvation, for God’s Word says, “There is none righteous, no, not one.” (Romans 3:10)

Comparing yourself to others will not work either: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

We seek to commend ourselves to God. However, God says our good works are like filthy rags in His sight [Isaiah 64:6]. If we are ever accepted in the eyes of Holy God, it must be through Christ our Lord.

There is no other way for says in Habakkuk 1:13, “You are of purer eyes than to behold evil, And cannot look on wickedness.”

If you could be good enough to pay for your sins, think about this. Why did Jesus have to die for you?

Jesus bore your cross and my cross. He took our place on the cross. He shed His blood for our sins on that cross high on a hill for all the world to see.

The Just for the unjust. The Righteous for the unrighteous. The Godly for the ungodly The sinless Lamb of God for the sinner.

According to the Bible, we all have feet of clay and fall short of God’s glory. Our righteousness is described in the Bible as filthy rags. God’s grace (his undeserved favor) is available to us all. However, we must accept His gift of forgiveness. This gift was bought and paid for on the cross with Jesus Christ’s lifeblood. You can say yes to Jesus’s free gift right now.

Our greatest need is forgiveness. Christ came to forgive us, but we must accept that free gift. Jesus said in Revelation 3:20:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me. —Revelation 3:20

Jesus knocks, but you must open the door to your heart, to your life, to your future.

It’s not a prescribed list of words. In Luke 23:42, one of the criminals crucified with Jesus pleads, “Lord, remember me when You come into your kingdom. His heartfelt cry of faith from the cross saves him.

Jesus answers in the next verse with a promise. He says, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.” The first person to accompany Christ to Heaven was this lowly thief on the cross.

Isn’t it time to decide which “thief” on the cross you are? Are you the one who put his faith in Jesus Christ? Or are you the one who rejected our Savior who gave His lifeblood for us?

The most famous 25 words ever written:

For God so loved the world. He gave His only begotten Son. Whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. —John 3:16

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If these words are how you feel in your heart, then pray:

Heavenly Father,

I pray to You, asking for the forgiveness of my sins.

I confess with my mouth. I believe with my heart that Jesus is Your Son. He died on the cross at Calvary so that I might be forgiven.

Father, I believe that Jesus rose from the dead. I ask Jesus to come into my life as my personal Lord and Savior.

I turn from my sins and will surrender to your will throughout my life.

Your word is truth. I confess with my mouth that I am born again. I am cleansed by the blood of Jesus!

In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen!

Reach out and touch Him today!

For she said to herself, “If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well. —Matthew 9:21

Epilogue

I was headed to Temple Baptist Church with Grandma, and my owner’s manual: the Bible. It was Grandma Lillie Hanks Willis who first poured Jesus into me; sometimes, she even used words. That’s my dog Pedro wanting to follow me.

We attended Temple Baptist Church in Clute, Texas, every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night. It seemed that everyone attended church in those days.

On a Wednesday night, my mother could not attend church. I walked to church from our home at 519 Coleman Street. My twelve-year-old sister Marjorie accompanied me. I was only eight.

I had no intention of that night being any different from any other. I cannot recall a word Pastor Bill Campbell said in his sermon. But I remember vividly another voice that spoke to my mind—my heart—my spirit.   

It was not an audible voice.  It was a still, gentle voice, tender but ever so clear, telling me to go forward and accept Christ as my Savior.

I recall my response to the Holy Spirit as if it were five minutes ago: “Lord, I am too shy. I would if my mother were here to go with me.”

I felt someone touch my left shoulder. My sister Marjorie was sitting in the back row with her friends.   She could not see my face, for I was seated near the front.

She said, “I’ll go with you if you want me to.” I immediately stood and walked with her to the front of the church and made my decision public.

I know you do not have to have an experience like that to be born again. Nevertheless, I am grateful for that experience; it has never left my mind or my heart.

I was eight when I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior.

More Photos of Aaron Willis

Josh, Adam & Aaron Willis skiing a few years after the auto accident.

Aaron, Randy, Josh, and Adam Willis.

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Aaron Willis Hyde Park Baptist Church Austin 1991

Aaron and Alana’s daughter, Presley Willis Wimberley, First Baptist

Aaron and Alana’s daughter, Baylee Willis Wimberley, First Baptist

Alana, Baylee, Presley, and Aaron Willis, Maui, Hawaii

My Family

Children’s children are the crown of old men, And the glory of children is their father. —Proverbs 17:6

L to R: Presley Willis, Baylee Willis holding Baby Violet Willis, Corbin Willis, and Olivia Willis holding Juliette Willis

Our family at Port Aransas, Texas

Our Family Costa Rica

Our Family Lahaina, Maui, Hawaii

Our family is in my “backyard” in the Texas Hill Country. I took this photo.

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Many today have just enough religion to inoculate them from knowing Christ. —Randy Willis

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