by Randy Willis

A tiny unedited excerpt from Johnny Rodriguez: The Rest of the Story. Let me repeat, this has not been edited. It is a work-in-progress.

This photo was taken on the Garner State Park Pavilion by Earl Nottingham with Texas Parks and Wildlife. I was standing behind Earl. It was taken the same day Johnny and I returned to the Bob Davis Ranch after 25 years. Thank you, Earl!

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 been 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 were beautiful. Go figure. And exceptionally intelligent. Sadly, Robyn Bernard died in 2024 at age 64, and Tricia Hernden died in 2021 at age 56. I knew them both well.

Therefore, this is not a “puff piece.” But it also is not a “tell-all” revelation.

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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 overlap.

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, for this one has stirred up too many emotions.

Our communication over the last couple of years has primarily been via text. 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 the one he made 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 rheumatoid 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! But first, the “eye of the tiger.”

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 self-image 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 Good 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.

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Introduction

My family began traveling to Garner State Park when I was nine. There were four holidays when the park was the “place to go.” Near our camp on the Frio River at Garner in 1959, a boy drowned in a deep hole. I can still hear the screams of his mother when the boy was pronounced dead.

A child or someone who cannot swim well can unexpectedly step into a deep hole in the Frio River at Garner. They can range from 8 to 12 feet deep. And even deeper downstream. Blue Hole near Garner and the Concan Swimming Hole near Neal’s Lodge are popular deep swimming holes.

Have fun, and make wonderful memories, but always be cautious in the Frio River and on the steep, rugged trails up Old Baldy.

Randy Willis and his sister Marjorie after their trip to Garner. A motel in Uvalde, Texas. 1959

My son Adam Willis is dreaming of that car in the Garner State Park Pavilion parking lot.

We raised livestock, including Spanish goats. Above is my son Aaron Willis kissing one of them. My three sons adored them. There was no barbecuing cabrito thereafter.

Within a decade, I had taken my three sons to Garner State Park. No, they were not barbecuing cabrito, but hot dogs.

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis at the Garner State Park Pavilion Dance.

My son Aaron Willis is at the top of the rope swing over the Frio River. Garner State Park.

A side trip above from Garner State Park to Ciudad Acuña en México.

Another side trip above from Garner State Park to Ciudad Acuña en México.

Garner State Park Pavilion, at the dance with my then-girlfriend, Terry. We are still friends.

Floated the Frio River between Garner and Neal’s in Concan.

Riding horses near Garner. We had no blue jeans and boots with us.

We spend three weeks each summer discovering America’s National Parks. We carried a tent on our RV so my sons could enjoy the outdoors at night. The exception was when we camped in Grizzly bear country.

My three sons and my mother in the background, camping in Kaibab National Forest, bordering Grand Canyon National Park.

We have all seen a million photos of the Grand Canyon. But nothing can compare to when you first walk to the awe-inspiring view that takes your breath away.

Another summer. Lunch on the banks of the Snake River south of Jackson, Wyoming, after removing our wet clothes. We had just whitewater rafted the Snake River. A few photos are below.

Adam Willis is smiling, and I’m to the right in the red striped shirt.

Adam Willis and I on the Snake River.

Josh Willis on the Snake River.

At camp that night, Josh built the fire for our supper. He still does that.

Josh Willis and I. Jackson Hole’s Town Square. One of the four Elk Antler Arches. Clint Eastwood fought under this arch in the movie Any Which Way You Can.

Aaron, Randy, Josh, and Adam Willis. Grand Teton National Park

Josh Willis. Grand Teton National Park

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis with the rainbow in the distance through the Royal Gorge bridge.

Josh, Aaron, and Adam Willis. Monument Valley, where many John Wayne movies were filmed.

That is me to the left inside the Chapel of the Transfiguration, a small log chapel in Grand Teton National Park, in the community of Moose. I have never shared the photo before because you can not make me out. The older I get, the more I realize it should be none of me. It should be about my Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ, who bled and died on the cross for me.

If I were to share the verse that best describes my life, it would be Joshua 24:13, for I have done nothing to deserve the blessings God has given me.

 I have given you a land for which you did not labor, and cities which you did not build, and you dwell in them; you eat of the vineyards and olive groves which you did not plant. —Joshua 24:13

Today, we take a different type of RV, known as a jet, and camp in an Airbnb. Last year, my grandson Corbin, my son Adam, and I visited Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Cobin and I plan to take a trip this summer to flyfish the Gibbon River in Yellowstone.

Corbin and Adam Willis. Jackson Hole Airport

Adam and Cobin Willis under the same Elk Antler Arch in Jackson Hole.

Adam and Corbin Willis. Cottonwood Creek flows into Jenny Lake. Grand Teton National Park

My grandson Corbin Willis swam across String Lake and back. Grand Teton National Park. He requested I do the same. I declined to even wade into the water from melting snow and ice. I’ve promised to do this this year, though. Wade, not to swim across.

Corbin Willis is ready for whitewater rafting on the Snake River last year.

Bald eagle nests in a tall cottonwood tree along the Snake River. Photo by Corbin Willis.

My grandson Corbin Willis and I were at Old Faithful in Yellowstone last year. I’m forced to dye my hair grey these days. At least that’s what I tell my grandchildren.

Garner State Park is about making memories with family and friends, so let’s go to Garner State Park.

Let’s Go to Garner State Park

The Garner State Park Pavilion. Fun for all ages.

On the 3rd of July in 1969, my best friend Glen Hardwick and I set out on a trip from Angleton, Texas, to Garner State Park. We were to meet John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, and my cousin Don Sweat the next day, on Friday, the 4th of July, at noon at the Garner State Park Pavilion.

We would then travel to Ciudad Acuna across the border from Del Rio. It was the “thing” to do on the weekends.

Glen and I stayed the first night at his father, M. Warren Hardwick, M.D., 2,000-acre ranch, 20 miles north of Garner State Park, and 10 miles North of Leakey. The Hardwick family was from my hometown of Angleton. Angleton is 30 minutes north of Freeport, where Don Sweat and Corky Parker lived.

Glen’s mother, Mrs. Hardwick, never allowed Glen to have a key. In those days, few people had maids. But Dr. and Mrs. Hardwick did. Glen had never made a bed or washed a dish in his life. Later, when Glen and I rented at Malibu Apartments in San Marcos during our days at Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University), I discovered the wisdom of Mrs. Hardwick. I moved out after one semester into a travel trailer at Pecan Park.

Therefore, when we arrived at their ranch, we slept on two old army cots outside in sleeping bags. It was heaven to me under the clear, blue Texas Hill Country sky’s starry nights.

After college, I moved to the Texas Hill Country because of these experiences. I am still there. I can see 50 miles from my master bedroom’s deck. Those “starry, starry nights,” as Don McLean expressed in “Vincent,” have never ceased to amaze me.

In Brazoria County, from which we all grew up, the mosquitoes would have devoured me. None of the streams, bayous, Oyster Creek, or the Brazos River was cold and clear; they were murky and warm, not to mention the water moccasins. And the humidity could be stifling.

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What Brazoria did have was the Gulf of Mexico with Surfside Beach. And Lake Jackson Park for family picnics. I loved duck and goose hunting in the Slop Bowl. And running trotlines in the bayous. And working cows most weekends in the saltgrass country of Brazoria County. And it was all free. But college was not free.

We moved to Clute, Texas, from Longleaf, Louisiana, when I was four. We had little money, so Surfside Beach was the place to go. I’m four in this photo below. That’s my niece, Dolores, who is with me. You could drive a mile down Suftside and not see another person in 1954.

I’m headed to Surfside Beach at age 18 in this photo taken in Lake Jackson, Texas. My date insisted I take a photo with her poodle. I explained that my Catahoula Leopard “Cow” Dog, Bob, would be upset. She threatened not to go unless I took this photo. Bob never forgave me.

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Thank God for Dow Chemical in Freeport, where I worked in the summers of my college years in the Mag Cells and my last summer as a janitor. Without Dow, I would never have made enough money to attend Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University). And without Dow, I would have no doubt gone from carrying a shovel in the rice fields of Brazoria County for eight dollars a day to carrying an M16 in the rice fields of Vietnam.

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The Frio River was as cold as ice, hence its name, which means “cold” in Spanish. You could have read a book at the bottom of the Frio. That’s how crystal clear the water was. It was paradise for a bunch of kids from the Texas Gulf Coast.

We also often swam in the Blue Hole on the Hardwick Ranch. During this trip, we brought a friend from Angleton when we discovered she was staying at Garner. We often brought friends from Garner to the ranch. The legal drinking age in Texas in 1969 was 21. We were all teenagers, and the ranch was a safe haven to drink an illegal beer.

On Friday, July 4, we headed to Garner to meet John Rodriguez, Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, Don Sweat, and Corky Parker. Then perhaps to Old Mexico for the 4th of July weekend. The four of them made that trip often on Fridays.

Unbeknownst to us, Corky had picked up at the last minute Charles Gammill, also from Freeport, for his journey to Garner. That last-minute decision would have ripple effects on all our lives.

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On our way to Garner, we passed an old man “hotfooting” it along the shoulder of the road toward Leakey. Glen said, “That old man looks like my grandpa.”

As we passed the old man, Glen said, “That is grandpa.” We turned the car around and gave him a ride to the ranch. It was 12 miles away. Grandpa Hardwick said he had broken down in a “new” used Border Patrol jeep a few miles back towards Garner. Dr. Hardwick had bought the jeep at auction to scare off illegal aliens from Mexico. They had broken into their modest ranch house several times, looking for food and other things.

During the 1960s, the United States Border Patrol vehicles were standardized to an iconic “Seafoam Green” color. This light green, almost mint-colored shade was recognizable from a mile away by friend and foe. Dr. Hardwick parked it next to their modest farm home on the ranch.

Today you can only see them in museums. During the 1960s, the United States Border Patrol vehicles were standardized to an iconic “Seafoam Green” color. This light green, almost mint-colored shade was recognizable from a mile away by friend and foe.

Grandpa Hardwick thought nothing of hiking the 14-mile stretch through the hills to the ranch. I told Glen that we might miss Rodriguez, Sweat, Naegelin, and Parker at the Garner Pavilion because of the delay. Little did we know that those plans had already been upended.

When we arrived on Friday, the 4th of July, we discovered they were all in jail in Uvalde, Texas. At least that was the rumor. The park was ablaze with the story of a goat rustling incident, but no one knew the details. Glen and I wondered how a $20 Spanish goat could get someone arrested? We did not realize that the victim was an Angora goat. Although we didn’t know the difference between an Angora goat and a Greyhound bus.

The high-quality mohar was worth hundreds of dollars. Enough to be a felony, not a mere misdemeanor. Angora goats were expensive. So valuable was their mohar that the all-time production peak occurred three years before.

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John Rodriguez (later known as Johnny) from Sabinal, Corky Parker, and Donald “Don” Sweat, from Freeport, have told me this story numerous times.

I called Corky Parker and Don Sweat (April, 2026) to make sure I remembered the story accurately. I also discussed the details with Bob “Bullet” Naegelin and Thomas “Twig” Phillips.

These five spent more time at Garner in the summer of 1969 than I did, for I was working straight evenings, Monday through Friday, at Dow Chemical in Freeport. I was attempting to earn enough money to return for my sophomore year at Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University). My pay was $3.25 an hour as an Operating Engineer. I called myself a Sanitation Engineer. In other words, I was a janitor. $3.25, union scale, was over twice what I made driving a truck in San Marcos.

Dow Chemical gave me paid vacation in 1969: Easter, Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and Labor Day. I was at Garner for all four holidays in 1969. That schedule, no doubt, saved me by one day from being part of the 4th of July cabrito barbecue supper at the Concan roadside park.

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The only living eyewitness, possibly save one, to the actual goat rustling was Charles Gammill. On April 28, 2026, I spoke with him at length by phone. He, too, as mentioned, was from Freeport. He was also a neighbor of Sweat. Gammill has since read this story to confirm the facts.

Later, John “Johnny” Rodriguez’s first manager, Happy Shahan, took many of these sorted details and condensed them into a story for a press release. Once you read through the many twists and turns, you can understand why he streamlined the events. Now, grant it, no one realized that Rodriguez, especially him, would have to tell this story a thousand times for the next six decades.

Little did Shahan know that his press release would forever be considered the “Bible” for the start of Johnny’s career.

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The Eyewitness Accounts

The Facts

As the Garner dance ended on a hot summer night in July of 1969, Texas Parks and Wildlife Ranger Davenport made the rounds. He informed John Rodriguez, Charles Gammill, Corky Parker, Don Sweat, and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin that they needed to leave the park because they were unchaperoned.

Garner State Park had a daily curfew. The gates were locked during this curfew. Garner State Park Superintendent Mr. Kincaid was a “stickler” about the rules.

Ranger Davenport knew most of them, and they all knew the drill. He was always courteous, saying “I’m sorry,” then explaining he was only following the rules.

They caravan to a roadside park eight miles south of Garner. The roadside park was at the intersection of Hwy 83 and 127 at Concan.

There were no nearby corner convenience stores in those days. Nor did anyone have much money, even if there were a store.

But what there was was a dozen or so hungry teenagers at the roadside park, one of them being a Mexican with a talent for barbecuing cabrito (a young goat). Cabrito was a highly prized cuisine throughout South Texas. The chief that day was John “Juan” Rodriguez.

Not only was there no substantial food at the roadside park, but the next day was the 4th of July, to boot. A time to celebrate. How about a turkey?

Uvalde County Rio Grande wild turkeys thrive in the brushy, hidden terrain and mesquite thickets. But not near noisy traffic, especially with cars testing tires that could wake the dead. Tire testing by General Tire on Hwy 83 during this time could scare the hell out of you if you’re sleeping at the Concan roadside park.

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John Rodriguez from nearby Sabinal, Charles Gammill from Freeport, and another teenager who had a two-door red Pontiac GTO traveled north on Hwy 83 past the old Garner entrance, then east on FM 1050 toward Upopia, Texas. They wanted to get off the main highway to be more stealthy.

1966 Red Pontiac GTO. Not the actual car. It could go from 0 to 60 in around 6 seconds. It was a very fast car.

They failed to capture a deer on the side of the road. And, they almost flipped the Pontiac GTO while chasing the deer. But then Rodriguez spotted a goat just across a fence in a creek bed.

He yelled, ” Stop!” They stop at Cherry Creek on the Bob Davis Ranch, past the Frio River, east of where the Garner State Park entrance is today on FM 1050.

Before Charles Gammill and the driver (no one can remember his name) from Junction, Texas, could climb out of the car, Rodriguez had already bailed out, jumped the fence, and captured the goat. The Sabinal halfback was fast. Well, fast enough for a goat in a creek bed, but not a white-tailed deer.

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Charles Gammill told me how he became involved. “Randy, Corky pulled into my driveway in his brother’s Mustang, hopping out, saying, Let’s go to Garner. I ran into my house, grabbed some cut-offs. I stopped on my way out of the house and grabbed grape jelly, peanut butter, ketchup, mustard, and an old hickory butcher knife.”

Charles Gammill added: “As Johnny and I were driving off from the roadside park to locate wild game, a friend from Freeport named Big Shot, Joe Jackson was hollering we could use his grape jelly, ketchup, and mustard to make Coonass BBQ.” Coonass BBQ refers to Louisiana Cajun-style cooking.”

Gammill’s mother’s old hickory butcher knife was used to butcher the goat. Gammill had only been to Garner a couple of times, and now he’s involved in a possible felony, and his mother’s bloody knife is evidence of said crime. Such is why mothers get grey hair very young.

Waiting there with the BBQ pit fired up are friends Corky Parker, Don Sweat, Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, and assorted hay-hauling comrades. Thomas “Twig” Phillips said he had hitchhiked home to Northshore in Houston by then.

John Rodriguez burns the goat’s ears in the BBQ pit first, according to Corky. Angora goat brands are typically placed on the ears. With the evidence burned, let the barbecue buffet begin.

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Nick Finley’s Dad owned a ranch 20 miles south of Concan in Knippa, Texas, between Sabinal and Uvalde. Nick had a place to sleep and eat at their home. It would serve him well that night. I was asleep 30 miles to the north under the stars at the Hardwick Ranch. That, too, would serve me well that night.

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Nick Finley and a group of seven friends would haul hay in a horse trailer to Nick’s father’s barn. Each day, Nick’s father, who was also named Nick, would bring two sacks of groceries for them to eat. Finding your next meal was crucial. It was more important than meeting a pretty girl at Garner. That is, unless her mother would feed you.

It was also a common bond that brought everyone together as friends. Sharing food is a wonderful way to build lifelong friendships. These friendships have lasted to this day, although some are from Heaven.

John Rodriguez basted the cabrito on the grill at the Concan roadside park with grape jelly, mustard, and ketchup, according to John Rodriguez, Don Sweat, and Corky Parker.

Sometimes, ears of corn, watermelons, or assorted vegetables “borrowed” from nearby roadside farms were a side dish, but not that night. Everyone at the roadside park was welcome.

The traditional hay-hauling group included Nick Finley, John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, Donald Sweat, Thomas “Twig” Phillips, Joey Swansey (also from Freeport), and Lenny Moore from Victoria. And others from time to time.

Corky Parker told me he would go to the Kinkaid Hotel in Uvalde to receive a $20 wire transfer from his father back home as needed. If it had not arrived, the kind lady at the front desk would assure him with, “I’m sure it will arrive soon. It always does.”

Hauling hay was what many teenagers did in Texas to earn a few dollars. Billy Adams and I would haul 100 bales a day in Brazoria County after school for eight cents a bale, loaded in his father’s barn. With my $4.00, share I could buy a new pair of Wrangler jeans from our Sears, Roebuck catalog for $3.25. And sometimes Levi’s were on sale at our local department store. But in Uvalde County, the pay was not that high. John Rodriguez and friends were paid for a day’s work, with two bags of groceries to be shared by eight hungry teenagers. But no one complained.

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Two Weeks Before, John Rodriguez, Charles Gammill, and the owner of the red Pontiac GTO stole that Goat

Two weeks before John Rodriguez and his friends barbecued their goat at the roadside park in Concan, another group of about 15 teenagers stole a goat and hung it from a tree at the original Garner entrance on US Highway 83, which was no longer in use.

Thus began the domino effect, which led to an unbelievable chain of events and the future stardom of one of the early goat rustlers.

The original Garner State Park entrance on US Highway 83. Today, the entrance is on FM 1050. This is the old, closed entrance where the group hung a goat in a tree. Not exactly the most secluded place to do so. The law was sure to stop and make sure the underage teenagers were not drinking alcohol, not to mention trespassing.

Why all the fuss over stealing livestock in Texas? A quote from the famed Houston criminal defense lawyer of yesteryear will explain.

“I’m often asked why there is such a great variation among sentences imposed by Texas judges. I can only quote the Texas judge who was asked why a killer sometimes doesn’t even get indicted and a cattle thief can get ten years. The judge answered: “A lot of fellows ought to be shot, but we don’t have any cows that need stealing.” —Texas defense attorney Percy Foreman

The Utopia Constable J.R. Jackson located John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, Don Sweat, and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin at the Garner State Park Pavilion at the nightly dance. He informed them one by one as he strolled around the dance floor that Sheriff Kenneth Kelley wanted to talk to them the next morning, Thursday, July 3, at 8:00 am sharp, at his office in Uvalde. They were pertified, wondering why. And why all four of them?

The Garner State Park Pavilion. You could buy hot dogs, burritos, chalupas, ice cream, and popsicles for a quarter at the pavilion’s grill. If you knew someone with a quarter, you could. When burritos went to 50 cents, I was devastated. Few could afford the T-bone for $1.75.

Corky Parker informed Constable J.R. Jackson that he was headed home to Freeport the next morning and would be unable to visit with the sheriff. Perhaps some other time.

The Constable’s response was that a judge would issue a warrant for his arrest if he did not appear posthaste at the Uvalde County Sheriff’s office at 8:00 am the next morning. He also said, “We know you are currently living in Clute, not Freeport.” That brought his attention to the seriousness of the matter.

The four of them hopped into Corky’s brother’s 1966 teal Mustang 289 early the next morning and drove to the High Sheriff Kenneth Kelley’s office.

Not the same Mustang, but you get the idea. It was a hot car.

As Corky put the Mustang’s 4-speed manual transmission into high gear, they all agreed, saying over and over as Corky drove, “Don’t admit to nothing.” They had no clue why all four of them had caught Sheriff Kelly’s attention.

There, Sheriff Kelley interviewed them one by one in his office, with John Rodriguez being the last.

When Sheriff Kelly walked out with his arm around John, he said, “You two can go home; he’s staying with us.” The Sheriff explained that Corky and Donald were not from that area; therefore, they did not realize the importance of Angora goat ranching to the local economy. Brazoria County was cow country, not goat country.

Sheriff Kelly called Corky and Donald “city boys” from Freeport. But John Rodriguez from Sabinal and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin from Hondo were “local boys” who knew better.

Before Sheriff Kelly could explain Naegelin’s fate, Rodriguez ended the discussion by taking the blame. “I did it, I admit it, I was alone, so ya’ll can all head home.”

Rodriguez was held in the Uvalde jail because he owed $250 for a prior public drinking charge. He had no money for the fine, so he was to serve several days’ time. 

Time enough to sort out the felony goat incident, which included a holiday weekend. On Tuesday, July 8, 1969, Rodriguez’s bond was set at $25,000. John Rodriguez remained incarcerated in the Uvalde County Jail.

The charge was Larceny. The offense description was “Theft of Goat.”

Below is the submitted records request to the Uvalde County Jail.

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Joaquin Jackson clarified in his book, One Ranger: A Memoir, that Johnny Rodriguez was in jail for an unpaid fine, not for stealing and barbecuing a goat.

The question remains: why, then, on Tuesday, July 8, 1969, was Rodriguez’s bond set at $25,000? Once again, the charge was Larceny. The offense description was “Theft of Goat.” As noted in the letter above, the original arrest report is missing. What is clear is that the larceny issue, “Theft of Goat,” soon disappeared.

I suspect no Uvalde County rancher ever intended to send a local teenager to prison. They were more likely just to want the goat rustling to stop. I later met the Bob Davis family. They were a kind and gracious Christian family. Not the type of folks that would ever seek vengeance.

The influence of legendary Texas Ranger Joaquin Jackson on the matter is a no-brainer. I knew him, too. Johnny and I once deer-hunted with Joaquin and a Mexican Texas Ranger, who told Johnny that he was telling everyone he was his brother.

As Joaquin walked through the South Texas mesquite with us, on a huge ranch near Brackettville, grinding deer antlers to mimic two bucks drawing other deer within range of his rifle, I thought this is the most imitated human I’d ever known. And that included my Dad, Jake Willis, which is saying something.

Joaquin Jackson’s sterling silver pistol grips on his Colt Commander Model 1911 carried gold images of Montezuma’s profile. When Joaquin Jackson died in 2016, it left a hole in Texas’s cowboy soul.

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When I began researching my 4th Great-Grandfather Joseph Willis (1758-1854) for his biography in 1979, I spent over two decades using library loans and reading microfilm before I wrote the book. Today, much is online. But I still spend over 80% of my time researching before I type my first paragraph.

As a novelist, I’ve learned to write stories rather than list boring facts and dates. If someone wants that, there is always Wikipedia, although it is often inaccurate. And with AI, it’s never accurate.

Shelby Foote (1916–2005) believed that novelists make superior historians because they focus on narrative, character, and truth rather than merely gathering facts.

I agree with the esteemed Civil War historian. And by far, his interviews in Ken Burns’s “The Civil War” are my favorites. Dare I say Ken Burns researched his masterpiece for over five years?

With all that said, I still need to include several dates to have an accurate timeline of these events.

I’ve attached a letter that contains an arrest date, July 8, 1969, which I have never seen published in the past 57 years.

I would much rather write than research, but it’s a task that still must be done. I owe that to my late friend of six decades, Johnny “John” Rodriguez, as I write his story.

And yes, his biography is still scheduled for release on July 4, 2026.

As the song says, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” And I didn’t stutter. Google it.

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Two local boys: John Rodriguez (Sabinal), Debbie (Sabinal), and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin (Hondo), 1968. The girl was from Sabinal, too.

Sheriff Kelly read a list of dates to John Rodriguez, Corky Parker, Donald Sweat, and Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, detailing when and where goats had previously been stolen. The Bob Davis Ranch was not the only victim.

He also said that the group arrested two weeks earlier by Utopia Constable J.R. Jackson had been interrogated. They were asked how they knew where to locate a goat to slaughter. They were not from that area.

We all know the drill from TV. “If you tell us the truth, you can go free.” The question two weeks later became who threw John Rodriguez and his cohorts under “the proverbial bus” to save their hide.

Could it have been Chucky Hall from Freeport, or Jimmy Moore from Angleton? Doubtful since the “snitch” could only recall nicknames and a Mexican kid who sang around Garner. Hall and Moore from Brazoria County were friends with the entire group under suspicion.

A couple of others, according to Sheriff Kelly, said, “A Mexican kid who sings around Garner told them. He was with guys with nicknames like Sweat, Corky, and Bullet.” It didn’t take long for the Sheriff’s Department, led by Utopia Constable J.R. Jackson, to figure out who the nicknames belonged to and “connect the dots.” And the Mexican kid that sings around Garner” was a slam dunk.

No one remembered Charles Gammill, from Freeport. Charles Gammill told me he figured it was because he did not have an easy-to-remember nickname. And he was not a Garner “regular.” Nevertheless, his name was never mentioned by Constable J.R. Jackson and Sheriff Kelly. Gammill had “dodged the bullet.”

Bob “Bullet” Naegelin, soon after the goat incident, joined the United States Marine Corps. He served in Vietnam and became a Marine Corps Master Sergeant. He retired in 1990.

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Throughout his life, John would say to me, “Colonel, it doesn’t take me long to examine a horseshoe.” He took the blame. All of it. If he hadn’t, I suspect they would have discovered Charles Gammill’s involvement, not to mention the driver of the red Pontiac GTO that legendary night.

Texas Ranger Joaquin Jackson had heard the teenager John Rodriguez sing around Garner State Park.

What if Joaquin could get him a job at Alamo Village, where John Wayne filmed The Alamo? Perhaps he could sing there in the Shoot ‘ Em Up skits as a cowboy singer. John dreamed of being a cowboy. Juaquin Jackson was friends with the owner.

Perhaps Rodriguez could even drive a stagecoach and sing in the Mexican Cantina at Alamo Village, a tourist attraction. The same one in the movie. It didn’t pay much, but it was far better than jail for goat rustling. One thing was for sure: he would need a better job than singing for free around Garner to get probation, or even better, have the charges dismissed, which later occurred.

Joaquin drove John Rodriguez to meet the owner of Alamo Village, Happy Shahan.

In my mind, the true story is better than Happy Shahan’s press release, although no one would have printed it, for it is too complicated and too long a story for an unknown singer.

In fairness to Happy, no one knew Johnny Rodriguez would have six number-one hits within the next four years of the goat-rustling. Imagine having to back that press release thousands of times in interviews. Surely it would fade away. It didn’t. And every time Johnny tried to amend it, people were offended, saying, “He lied.”

No Mexican in country music history had that many hits. In fact, no Mexican had a top 10 hit in country music history before then. When Johnny Rodriguez’s first 15 singles all became top ten hits, there was no going back on the “goat story.” If he had, that’s all that would have been discussed, not his music.

He would eventually say to his fans and interviewers, “I can’t remember. Ask Corky Parker, he knows.” Well, my friends, I have taken Johnny’s advice. Corky has read and edited this story. So has Bob “Bullet” Naegelin and Donald “Don” Sweat.

And so had Thomas “Twig” Phillips and Glen Harwick.

And so has Charles Gammill, the only witness to the actual goat thief, along with John Rodriguez, except for the driver of the red Pontiac GTO, who was never seen again.

I’ve wondered what the parents of the driver of the red Pontiac GTO thought if they discovered all that blood in the trunk of that car. And perhaps even read about the felony arrest in the newspaper. Like mothers, fathers get grey hair too soon.

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Over the past six decades, hundreds have claimed to have been with Johnny Rodriguez during his arrest for goat rustling. If everyone who said they had been there were there, the Uvalde jail could not have held them. Perhaps not even the Garner State Park Pavilion.

There were four brought in for questioning: John Rodriguez, from Sabinal; Bob “Bullet” Naegelin from Hondo; Corky Parker; and Donald “Don” Sweat, from Freeport. That’s all, folks. As Johnny would often say, “Case settled.”

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My cousin, Jerry Kennedy, signed Johnny Rodriguez to Mercury Records. Yes, yet another cousin. I have written that story too. Go figure. Here is a link to Jerry Kennedy’s story: https://randywillisbooks.com/jerry-kennedy-music/

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B.J. Thomas

Johnny Rodriguez was not the first to sing at Garner State Park. B.J. Thomas and Roy Head did a decade before. B.J. Thomas and the Triumphs’ Garner State Park was released in 1964. I first heard this record at Nick Finley’s father’s ranch in Knippa. No, I wasn’t hauling hay.

The lyrics begin with:

In the western part of Texas
90 miles from of San Antone
There’s a place I go each summer
When I get the urge to roam

I stand out on the highway
If I couldn’t catch a ride I’d walk
To Garner State Park
Let’s go to Garner State Park
Come on along to Garner State Park

Where the prettiest girls in Texas.

B.J. Thomas told me “Billy and Sue” was written at Garner State Park. It was a hit in 1966. I later booked B.J. for several gigs.

Randy Willis, Kimarie, and BJ Thomas

Randy Willis, Kimarie, and BJ Thomas

Garner State Park in the Texas Hill Country, known for the crystal clear Frio River, was paradise to me. The frigid waters are overshadowed by Old Baldy, a limestone bluff over 1,800 feet tall.

Each night, we would take our lawn chairs to the dance floor at the Garner Pavilion. We watched young and old dance the “Garner Whip,” Texas two-step, waltzes, and an occasional jitterbug. Everyone danced to the jukebox’s music from huge speakers in a giant oak tree.

During the day, our group would attempt to sharpen our skills with the Garner Whip between swimming breaks in the Frio to cool off. It was a necessary requirement to romance a pretty girl that night on the dance floor. I was tall and clumsy and never mastered dancing.

Juan Raoul Davis Rodriguez did. He also had the charm of a movie star. I was a hayseed cowboy on my best day.

And occasionally, touch football games and an excursion or two to Old Mexico. Swinging off the rope swings into the Frio far below was our greatest risk. Or hiking up Old Baldy. Or an occasional sandwich from a girl’s Mama’s camp.

Little did I realize how much this park would play a role in my life. And most of all, the many friendships that have lasted to this day.

My son Josh dropped from the rope swing into the Frio River a generation later.

The Frio River is overshadowed by Old Baldy. Garner State Park.

The second of three Garner State Park entrances.

Bob “Bullet” Naegelin on the far left. Randy Willis, in the blue shirt, is leaning over, touching his shoe. John Rodriguez with the guitar.

Easter 1969. Garner State Park Pavilion. In two months, the 4th of July will be celebrated & Johnny Rodriguez will be in jail. Photo: Johnny Rodriguez, Randy Willis, Scott Cummings, Grady Dansby, Dennis Billings, and John Levee. All of us were from Brazoria County except Rodriguez.

Dancing the Garner Whip to the jukebox was the way to meet girls. I was over 6′ 5′ 1/2 and could not dance a lick. I once walked a girl to her mother’s camp after the dance ended. I decided it was now or never and leaned over in the pitch dark to kiss her goodnight. I missed her mouth and kissed her on the nose. I never walked another girl to their camp.

Don Sweat is seated to the far right.

Nick Finley. RIP, my friend.

My cousin, Don Sweat, was teaching Joe Howard the Garner Whip. He did this in a Garner screen shelter for the dance that night. Easter, 1969.

And yes, there were many young women from Brazosport. Karen Murphy from Freeport is to the far right.

A group from Garner at Dr. M. Warren Hardwick’s Ranch. I’m in my Angleton High School #76 football jersey. I could not afford a camera, much less the cost of developing film, but Dr. Hardwick’s son, Glen, could. The downside is that he appears in only a few of these photos because he was always the one who took them. Oh well, being poor has its benefits.

Friendships that have lasted a lifetime: I took the first photo in the Frio River below the Garner State Park Pavilion. Dennis Billings (second from the left). The two girls are Janet Blalock and her sister Jackie Blalock in the curlers, no doubt for the dance that night. 4th of July, 1970. Below: Johnny and I with Janet (left) and Jackie (right) in December of 1994 at the Broken Spoke in Austin. It was my Birthday Party.

Don Sweet and I were at the Garner Pavilion. We had just finished a swim in the Frio River. The river ran just a few yards below.

Yes, Garner had its legends. Nick Finley, behind Don Sweat and me, was one of them. Sadly, Nick died in 2018. On Sunday, May 20, a memorial service was held at the Garner State Park Pavilion. There was a church service, storytelling, and music. Nick’s Garner friends and family gathered at the Garner State Park Pavilion for a time of remembrance, a church service, and a last dance. I’ve been told more than once that he requested his ashes be spread on the Garner State Park dance floor. Texas Parks and Wildlife refused that request. I am not sure of the validity of that story. But what I am sure of everyone loved Nick Finley.

Beverly Rieger and Kays Evans were from Freeport. Billy and I were from Angleton, 30 minutes to the north of Freeport. Cappy Muchowich and Charles Gammill, below, were also from Freeport. Corky Parker and Don Sweat (not in the photos) were also from Freeport.

John Rodriguez would often visit with our group in Freeport, Texas. Cappy Muchowich’s parents’ home in Freeport was the party’s location in the photo above? Below is another photo of John, with Cappy and Charles Gammill, who would soon join John in stealing a goat. Sadly, Cappy Muchowich died in 1975 at age 24.

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Once we began making a decent living, Mrs. Crosby’s in Acuña was Johnny’s and my favorite place to eat in Old Mexico. Mrs. Crosby was a dear friend of ours.

“Ma Crosby,” as she was known, personally greeted every patron. She was protective of us. Once, when my date took two shots of tequila in a row, Ma Crosby approached her. “Honey, you need to slow down; you have not eaten yet,” she said.

My date assured her she was fine as she passed out for a few minutes.

Ma Crosby opened the restaurant in 1915. It was super clean and had the best Mexican Food on the border. We once called her in advance to see if we could have Queliteas with stuffed quail. “No hay problema,” she said.

Many celebrities dined at the famed restaurant, which closed in 1983. The restaurant is mentioned in George Strait’s 1981 song Blame It on Mexico. George, too, swam at Garner State Park.

George Strait asked the writer of All My Ex’s Live in Texas if he could change “Brazos River” to “Frio River” in the song. George sang it as: “I remember that old Frio River, where I learned to swim.”

Sanger D. “Whitey” Shafer, the writer, was born in Whitney, Texas, near Waco. The Brazos River flows through there.

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John Rodriguez. The photo was not taken on the day we met.

As mentioned above, John, now known as Johnny, and I met as teenagers at Garner State Park. I had heard he could sing, so I asked to meet him.

In his memoir, Johnny Rodriguez, Desperado, in Chapter 3, titled “Garner State Park,” our first encounter is recorded. I should add parenthetically that I have never read the book, although I’ve been mailed a dozen copies. In other words, I cannot validate the book’s accuracy, but this page is “spot on.”

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After all, I had booked B.J. Thomas once and only once at the time. He played at my high school prom in Angleton. This was after hearing him several times at the Brazoria County Fairgrounds on Saturday night.

When Johnny strolled up with a guitar, I was sitting on a Garner State Park bench. He said, “I’m John Rodriguez,” and smiled.

“I hear you can sing. Do you mind singing one for me?” I said.

John lifted his guitar and sang a Marty Robbins hit, “You Gave Me a Mountain.”

“Yep, you can sing,” I said. “I met a girl whose mother will feed us. Want to join me?” None of us had much more than a few coins. Meeting a girl at Garner whose mama would feed us was a necessity for survival. If her daughter were pretty, that was the “icing on the cake.” Such was Ma Barker’s daughter.

This is a photo of a legendary mother’s camp at Garner, “Ma Barker.” Front left in orange is her beautiful daughter, Denise Barker. John and I both had a crush on her. In fact, every dude at Garner did. Not sure whether John and I received a sandwich that day, but I did manage to take this photo. I keep up with Denise from afar on Facebook these days. Garner was all about family, friends, and fun.

Twenty-five years later, John and I would return to the Bob Davis Ranch. Larry Holden with Country Weekly had set up the reunion. When I told Johnny about the invitation, he said, “Do you think they’re still mad?”

I smiled. “Do you know how many goats they’ve sold because of the publicity?

He always responded to me when a definitive point was made. “Case settled, Colonel,” he would say. Colonel, after Colonel Tom Parker, was the nickname he gave me after I negotiated a deal he said I would never be able to land. I called him “Boy Wonder,” after his first #1 record.

Johnny Rodriquez & Randy Willis, 25 years later at the Bob Davis Ranch

Johnny Rodriquez & Randy Willis, 25 years later, at the Bob Davis Ranch with the Davis descendants. And a few weeks later, I produced the Garner State Park Homecoming Concert for Texas Parks & Wildlife. It was the first of three.

After the Garner State Park celebration for the 75th Anniversary of Texas Parks & Wildlife, I produced the event the next year. Here are a few more posters and newspaper articles from the two events.

Texas Parks & Wildlife produced this video for the above event.

Producer and Videographer Karen Loke. Texas Parks & Wildlife.

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It was not all healthy. It was at the height of the Vietnam War. Psychedelic drugs became popular with a few of our so-called hippie friends. But not us. My friend Diane Gray did get involved. I loved Diane, although we never dated.

She was a kind and gentle soul. Note the peace sign in the photo. She was the first person I knew who did that. And yes, it symbolized opposition to the Vietnam War and later became associated with Peace and Love. It was the perfect symbol for her. It should have been for all of us.

Her father was a medical doctor and friends with Glen Hardwick’s father, Dr. Hardwick. Dr. Gray owned a home on the San Bernard River in Brazoria County.

Diane invited Glen Hardwick and me to watch the first moon landing there on July 20, 1969. Just three months later, her boyfriend, Joey Swansey, from Freeport, took this photo.

Sadly, a few years later, Diane took her own life. Joey Swansey’s brother, Jackie Swansey, died in a tragic accident in the army. Two friends gone too soon.

Diane Gray’s screened shelter at Garner State Park. None of us could afford such opulence. We were packed into her shelter to escape the rain.

That’s me on the far left and Glen Hardwick in the center with his arm around the girl. Why does that not surprise me?

Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico by Johnny Rodriguez

We didn’t always ride our thumb to Mexico, as Johnny later wrote. Sometimes we rode in an automobile to Ciudad Acuna, located on the Rio Grande border across from Del Rio.

Headed to Ciudad Acuna in Old Mexico. Johnny Rodriguez is on the far left. Glen Hardwick, 4th from the left. Don Sweat, top right. I took the photo. The next photo was taken once we arrived in Mexico.

Donald Sweat is in the sunglasses, the third from the left. We were just kids. Can you imagine how dangerous this would be today? Johnny and I were taking the photos.

Will you hire my friend?

After meeting John Rodriguez, I tried to convince my friend Johnny Lyons to let him open for his band. Johnny was 16. Lyons’ band was the Country Nu-Notes in San Marcos. They were the best-known country band in the San Marcos area. They held that title until another aspiring singer, George Strait, rocketed to fame. Lyons, Strait, and I were all on the campus of the “Harward of the South,” Southwest Texas State University, known as Texas State University today.

“No Mexican is ever going to be accepted in country music.” —Johnny Lyons

Lyons said, “No Mexican is ever going to be accepted in country music.” Years later, I hired Lyons to open for Johnny Rodriguez numerous times. We would use his band to back Rodriguez, too. I’d throw in a young whippersnapper like Keith Gattis to draw a different demographic. And an array of other artists.

None of this upset Rodriguez. Later, his first manager, Happy Shahan, tried to rename him Johnny Rogers. No, it wasn’t because Happy liked Roy Rogers, as Johnny attempted to cover for Happy.

Jerry Kennedy, the head of Mercury Records in Nashville, and Tom T. Hall put an end to that but kept the first name, Johnny. In fairness to Happy Shahan, Charlie Pride’s label, RCA, kept his race hidden until he had two hits. I know, that’s impossible to imagine today.

In this video, Johnny Lyons tells a sanitized version of that story.

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I have worked with many performers over the decades. Ego could be an issue at times, but never with Johnny Rodriguez. A case in point is when I decided to book two Texas “rising stars” to open for him. I bought several large ads. When they hit the newspapers, I got a call from both opening acts. One complained because the other’s name was listed first. The other said their name was too small.

When Johnny called to ask when he should arrive for sound check, I mentioned the two complaints. He said, “I don’t care, Colonel, if you mention me at all. All I care about is getting paid.” I got his jest and never mentioned a problem again before a show.

I might add, I never had an issue with any marquee name. Only with those who had been told they were going to be the next Patsy Cline or George Strait, or whose parents, best friend, girlfriend, or boyfriend was a fan.

I booked an act to play in San Antonio. Soon, I got a call from the artist’s parents.

“Did you see what Wiley Alexander with San Antonio-Express News wrote about our daughter?” They went on to explain how lucky I was to be booking her. When they added, “I needed to be sure and read the article,” I finally got a word in edgewise.

“I dont need to, I wrote it,” which was the truth for most promoters. I’m so glad I never had to deal with anything like that with Johnny Rodriguez.

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These were two opening acts I never had an issue with. They were good friends, too. All three are in Heaven now. On this night, Johnny Rodriguez said to Keith Gattis, “I should to be opening for you. You’re the star, now.” Keith rejected Johnny’s gracious offer, but I did give Keith co-billing. When I discovered how popular he was, I gave Keith top billing on the second poster. Johnny never complained.

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Randy Willis (center) and friend Glen Hardwick from Angleton HS on the right. Glen took the photo below.

Johnny Rodriguez with the guitar and Randy Willis in the blue shirt, leaning over and touching his shoe. ca: 1966

Johnny Rodriguez and Randy Willis Easter 1969. Garner State Park near Concan, Texas. The pavilion dance floor overlooks the Frio River.

Johnny Rodriguez, Randy Willis, unknown, Grady Dansby, Dennis Billings, and John Levee. Garner State Park. Easter 1969. Garner State Park near Concan, Texas. The pavilion dance floor overlooks the Frio River.

The 75th Anniversary of Texas Parks & Wildlife

We returned to Garner State Park for the 75th Anniversary of Texas Parks and Wildlife, when Governor George W. Bush asked me to produce the event. I created a pickin’ party for Texas Parks and Wildlife’s major sponsors the night before the event. Here are two videos, posters, and articles about the celebration. I used my friend Coach Darrell Royal’s protocol for the pickin’ party. He was not available to attend this event.

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Larry Holden with Country Weekly in Nashville called me. He wanted to write an article on the event. County Weekly wanted to recreate our first meeting. I sat on the same Garner State Park picnic table when Johnny came walking up with a guitar 25 years before.

Larry Holden had another request for Johnny and me. He wanted us to return to the Bob Davis Ranch near Garner. That was where the infamous goat-stealing caper took place three decades earlier. When I asked Johnny, he said, “What if they’re still mad?” I assured him there was no telling how many goats they sold from that story.

Here is a brief video from that day. Johnny is laughing because I yelled to the goats, “Run, he killed your grandma.”

A Streetcar Named Desire

Tennessee Williams wrote A Streetcar Named Desire. For a novel, I researched “The Desire Line” at the height of streetcar use in New Orleans. We all ride that streetcar―some never get off. ― Randy Willis

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On March 2, 1974, Dolly Parton and Johnny Rodriguez performed at Louisiana State University (LSU) in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was a package show which also featured Billy “Crash” Craddock.

Dolly’s first number-one hit, Joshua, was in February 1971, followed by Coat of Many Colors later that year.

On the day of their show at LSU, Dolly’s song Jolene peaked at number one! Four months before, Johnny’s song Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico reached number one. It was his second number-one single.

Both were produced by Jerry Kennedy, the head of Mercury Records. Jerry Kennedy is my cousin. I’ve written much about him. Here is a link to one of those articles: Jerry Kennedy – Randy Willis: Short Stories & Biographies

The week before, Johnny called me to see if I could meet him in Baton Rouge. I lived near Wimberley, Texas. I recently rented a small red-brick house on Belmont Avenue for $150 per month. It was within walking distance of City Park and not far from LSU. I rented it to study for my MBA and be near my grandmother in Forest Hill, Louisiana. She was in poor health.

When Johnny and I arrived at LSU for a soundcheck, Dolly’s bus soon arrived. Dolly and her best friend since childhood and personal assistant, Judy Ogle, dropped by Johnny’s bus. A local country music disc jockey knocked on the bus door within minutes. “May I have a brief interview?” he asked. He hit “pay dirt” with Dolly onboard.

We watched as he looked around the bus’s main cabin. We were unsure of his focus because he was cross-eyed. When he left the bus, no one said a word. Johnny finally broke the silence. “He certainly has a face for radio.”

“Johnny, bless his heart, we should pay to have that corrected,” Dolly said.

“I don’t have that much money,” Johnny replied.

The evening started with two hayseed cowboys from South Texas. They were joined by two much more sensitive and classy young women from East Tennessee. It was the perfect “cocktail” for fun on a grand scale. The one thing we had in common was we all had been “dirt poor” not many months hence.

We hung out until after Billy “Crash” Craddock set, and Johnny’s road manager, Phil Jones, said, “It’s showtime, Johnny.”

During Johnny’s set, Dolly said, “Come on, Randy; I want to show you my new bus decorated with butterfly wallpaper.” Dolly loved butterflies. In her autobiography, Dolly says she was fascinated with anything that flew as a child. Butterflies were her favorite. Even today, they are her go-to design on stage.

Between sets, I asked Dolly and Judy if they would like to go with Johnny and me to Mardi Gras. Johnny and I had planned the trip the week before. “It would be a great way to celebrate your number one, Jolene, too!” I said. Dolly and Judy loved the idea.

We stopped by my place near the LSU campus on our way to the French Quarter in New Orleans. We needed to change clothes, so we began the 90-minute trip. We stopped at a 7-Eleven on Perkins Road today, known as the Country Corner. We bought a bottle of wine to start the celebration.

On the way to New Orleans, I played an 8-track demo of a tune titled “Louisiana 1927” by Randy Newman. Neither had heard of Randy Newman. I was a fan.

Johnny said, “That gives me an idea for a song.” Newman’s song was sad about the devastating 1927 Mississippi River flood. However, it’s a powerful song. I sometimes listen to it on YouTube today. My grandmother often spoke of the devastation caused by the 1927 Red River flood in Alexandria, Louisiana. Johnny decided to write a light-hearted song about Louisiana.

On the way to New Orleans, Dolly asked if we would like to ride on her bus the next day. She was going to Alexandria to perform. She and Johnny might even co-write a song. She added that she had agreed to visit a children’s hospital, and perhaps Johnny might like to go too. So, of course, he said, “Sure!” In Nashville, they say, “It all begins with a song.” We had no idea what that would soon entail.

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I pointed to several famous sites as we arrived in New Orleans around midnight. The first was A Streetcar Named Desire, which inspired Tennessee Williams’ masterpiece of the same name.

I wanted to write a novel about my ancestors in Louisiana. Because of Tennessee Williams’ writings, I researched “The Desire Line” at the height of streetcar use in New Orleans. The route ran down Royal Street and through the French Quarter. It continued to Desire Street and returned to Canal Street.

Canal Street has three lanes of traffic in both directions, with a pair of streetcar tracks in the center. It is one of the boundaries of the French Quarter and terminates at the Mississippi River. Walking to the French Quarter, Dolly asked me, “How tall are you?”

“Six-five,” I said.

“I thought so; my husband Carl is tall like you. I’m five-three.”

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Tom T. Hall and Bobby Bare saw Johnny sing at Alamo Village near Brackettville, Texas, encouraging him to try Nashville.

My cousin Jerry Kennedy was Mercury Records’ Vice President of A&R for Country Music. Jerry was the head of Mercury Records in Nashville. I was fetched up as a boy in Longleaf, Louisiana. I knew several of Jerry’s aunts and cousins. Jerry was born in Shreveport. We are descendants of Rev. Joseph Willis, a Baptist preacher who swam the Mississippi River on a mule in 1798 to enter the Louisiana Territory. He was the first Protestant preacher West of the Mississippi River.

Jerry Kennedy was Vice President of A&R for Country Music at Mercury Records. Johnny arrived in Nashville with $14 and a guitar in a plastic bag. Tom T. Hall gave him a job fronting his band when he discovered he was down to six bucks.

Tom T. and Johnny dropped by Mercury. Tom T. had business with Jerry. While Jerry and Tom T. visited in another room, Roy Dea asked Johnny to sing some songs.

Johnny sang two cover tunes. He performed Don Gibson’s I Can’t Stop Loving You. He also sang a song by Merle Haggard. Johnny then sang If I Had Left It Up To You. Merle Haggard was Johnny’s and my favorite singer.

Roy Dea was impressed with Johnny’s bilingual rendition of I Can’t Stop Loving You in English and Spanish. Roy said he had never heard a country artist do that. He signed Johnny on the spot. Jerry and Roy produced all of Johnny’s Mercury sides.

Ken Burns’s film COUNTRY MUSIC aired on PBS in 2019. I Can’t Stop Loving You, produced by Jerry Kennedy, was the song they chose for the episode that showcased Johnny.

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Neither Dolly nor Johnny had ever been to New Orleans and were curious about where we would celebrate.

We were like tourists as we drove by the above-ground tombs and mausoleums. “Does Marie Laveau’s ghost hang out there?” Johnny asked. He’d heard from his friend Bobby Bare. Bobby Bare planned to release a song about the Louisiana voodoo practitioner in a few months.

We parked on a side street off Canal Street. Then, we headed straight to Pat O’Brien’s in The Vieux Carré (French Quarter). Pat O’Brien’s is famous for its hurricane cocktail. They invented it. They are also known for their famous “dueling” pianos, where local entertainers take song requests. Their dueling piano bar was the first of its kind.

Randy Willis, Dolly Parton, and Johnny Rodriguez. Pat O’Briens, 1974

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
― Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire 

Our drinks were served in hurricane glasses shaped like hurricane lamps. After a drink, I approached one of the pianos and tipped the pianist. At the beginning of the next song, the player nodded at Dolly. He said, “This one is for you, compliments of the gentleman.” As he played Tennessee Waltz, Dolly got tears in her eyes.

Dolly then arose and tipped the pianist. He nodded at me and said, “This is from the beautiful lady.” Next, he played The Yellow Rose of Texas. Then, he played a few bars of The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You. We were like kids in a candy store.

We next headed down Bourbon Street to check out the legendary Al Hirt’s Club. The club and the famous Pete Fountains were both closed. It was very late. Johnny said this looked interesting, and it’s open. The sign read, “These famous people have walked through this door.” When the waitress at “The Famous Door” approached us, she asked Dolly, “Can I ask you a question? You look just like Dolly Parton.”

“No, but I’m always asked that,” Dolly replied.

The waitress turned to Johnny and asked, “Are you Johnny Rodriguez?”

“No, but I wish I had his money.” Today, many names adorn their door, but not theirs.

We figured we should head back to Baton Rouge to rest. We wanted to make it to the children’s hospital and Dolly’s gig in Alexandria without looking half-dead.

A homeless guy stopped us as we approached my car on a side street near Canal Street. “Mister, can I have a dollar?” he asked Johnny.

“Sure,” Johnny replied. As he pulled out a roll of bills, the homeless man grabbed the entire roll. He had a 20-yard jump on Johnny as he tried to duplicate his Sabinal High School halfback days. His cowboy boots were not designed for sprinting down Canal Street.

He tackled him 50 yards away. I ran 10 yards when I heard Dolly yell, “Randy, don’t leave us.” I stopped and returned to Dolly and Judy to ensure their safety. Tough job, I know. Johnny took back his roll of cash and tipped him 20. “I would have given you a hundred,” Johnny said.

We dropped Dolly and Judy off at their hotel. It was the Holiday Inn in Baton Rouge, on Airline Highway. The sun rose over the Mississippi River. Then, Johnny and I crashed at my house. That afternoon, we hopped on Dolly’s bus for the trip to Alexandria.

Dolly had mentioned the evening before that she had ended her seven-year partnership with Porter Wagoner only two weeks before.

Johnny picked up his guitar as we rolled down the highway towards Alexandria. He said, “Here’s one I’m going to release later this year.” I did not write it; he sang We’re Over. Johnny then said here’s another I thought of last night. “There’s a place next to my home state called Louisiana. That’s all I have so far.”

“These are two new songs I’m working on; Dolly said as she began to pick and sing the first song. Then, she added, “It’s not finished yet. I am writing it about Porter.” Johnny and I looked at each other transfixed as she sang part of I Will Always Love You. She followed that with Love is Like a Butterfly. Both songs were released that year.

About that time, Dolly’s Butterfly wallpaper began to spin for Johnny as he became “cross-eyed.” Unfortunately, he had too much to drink the night before. I was our designated driver; therefore, I only had two drinks and was bright-eyed and “bushy-tailed,” to quote Johnny.

Johnny soon discovered that his lack of restrictions would embarrass him. He felt dizzy and wanted to lie down. He dashed to the bathroom but did not make it past the hallway. Johnny threw up in Dolly’s bus hallway. I’ll never forget what Dolly said to Johnny, “I guess you didn’t like my song.”

Johnny then called his bus driver, Curtis Webb, via Dolly’s CB. “Breaker 1/9,” he mumbled, “Follow us to Dolly’s hotel.” That night, we all ate filé gumbo and jambalaya. We discussed what Hank Williams might have been experiencing when he wrote Jambalaya (On the Bayou).

Johnny was asked to judge a beauty pageant in Alexandria. He declined. He did not want one female to be happy while fifty were unhappy with him. So, we decided to go fishing.

The following day, Johnny and I rented a car. We headed to the small town of Longleaf, Louisiana, twenty miles away. It was the town where I was fetched up as a boy. As we walked the banks of Barber Creek, I remembered learning to swim there. Johnny mentioned the Frio River. He learned to swim in the Frio at Garner State Park. We debated over which one was the coldest. However, we agreed both were too cold to swim in February.

After stopping by a bait and tackle shop, we decided to fish Cocodrie Lake near Longleaf. Johnny discovered a St. Croix telescope fishing machine. He’d never heard of such a thing.

He also finished that lyric in our rented wooden flat-bottom boat: “They got beauty queens and fishing machines. Ate gumbo until my dish was clean. For a Texas boy, it was a bundle of joy, Louisiana.” Tom T. Hall taught him to write about his experiences. He named the ditty Louisiana. It, too, may be found on YouTube. Click on the video below and hear the results.

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Dolly’s wines hit the stores a few months ago. I noticed a display with samples at an HEB Grocery. I almost said, “I know her.” However, I was afraid they would think I was drunk. I would not get a sample. I hadn’t drunk in many years, but I could not resist finding out how it tasted. It’s not bad. Why does it not surprise me that she has butterflies on her outfit and the wine bottles?

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Dolly soon played Lake Charles. I drove to the show from Baton Rouge and sat in the stands with Dolly’s best friend, Judy Ogle. I remember the part of her performance the most was when Dolly sang “There is Power in the Blood.” It, too, may be found on YouTube.

Dolly and Johnny soon played The Texas Prison Rodeo in Huntsville, a week apart. As Johnny and I entered the staff entrance at the rodeo arena, I heard someone yell my name. It was a good friend from Angleton High School, Mike Blumberg. No, he was not a prisoner. Mike was a Field Lieutenant at the time at Ellis 1 Unit in Huntsville, where death row was. He would one day become Warden. Mike graduated from Sam Houston State University in Huntsville. He was in charge of escorting the prison rodeo contestants for two practices before each performance. That was the first time we had seen each other since high school.

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The Johnny Rodriguez Life Enrichment Center was a domestic non-profit corporation. It was formed on November 25, 1974, by J Edward “Ed” Low. Ed convinced Johnny to lend his name and time to this event.

The Johnny Rodriguez Life Enrichment Center Telethon. Corpus Christi, Texas. Tom T. Hall, Dolly Parton, Johnny Rodriguez, and Willie Nelson.

Private citizens started the enrichment center because the government could not subsidize handicapped youth in Southwest Texas.

The Johnny Rodriguez Life Enrichment Center benefited people with cerebral palsy. A TV telethon in Corpus Christi funded it. This event occurred from March 16 to 17, 1974, a month after our Mardi Gras trip. Johnny was the MC.

Johnny asked Dolly if she would play the fund-raising telethon. She agreed. So did Tom. T. Hall, Willie Nelson, Charlie Pride, and others.

It was a magical event benefiting the youth of Southwest Texas. And lasted for several years. It ended the year Ed Low disappeared with the money. What did not end was Johnny’s desire to help the less fortunate.

“For a Texas boy, it was a bundle of joy, Louisiana.” Johnny Rodriguez’s Louisiana. 

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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 bleached 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.

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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 ever 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.

And what do you think when someone starts a sentence with, “honestly?” Even if they’re telling the truth, you wonder if they are.

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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,” I respond, “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 answer 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, ran over, 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.

Johnny’s first gig apart from Tom. T. Hall was at the Farmer’s daughter in San Antonio. The venue was sold out. After gas, everyone’s per diem, motel room, and paying his bus driver and band, Johnny lost $400.

Once back in Nashville, Johnny mentioned the lost mentor and previous boss, Tom T. Hall.

“Welcome to show business,” Hall said.

Waylon Jennings advised Johnny to hire an accountant and a lawyer who specialized in the entertainment business. Jennings added, with tongue-in-cheek, “Preferably, two that don’t know each other.”

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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 a cover of 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.

B.J. was playing at Southwest Texas State University (now Texas State University) when I was a sophomore there in 1970. On March 11, 1970, the Grammy Awards were held. B.J. was nominated for Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head from the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It was nominated in three categories. After a party to which I was invited, B.J. was obviously disappointed when the song was lost in all three categories that night. It would become his “signature” song, though.

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 would go on to win five Grammy Awards in the Gospel category.

B.J. Thomas and his friend Roy Head hung out at Garner State Park before Johnny and me. 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 was a hero of ours. And always kind and polite.

Johnny and I had copies of B.J.’s 45 rpm vinyl Garner State Park.

One night over dinner with Coach Darrell Royal, B.J. and I got into a conversation about Garner State Park. B.J. said his song Billy and Sue was written at Garner. The song charted nationally in 1966. It was the song that brought B.J. Thomas and The Triumphs to our attention. B.J. loved Garner. He sang about Garner. He even co-wrote a hit there with band member Mark Charron at Garner.

But that was a goal that was far beyond our dreams. We just wanted to swim in the frigid Frio River. Dance the Whip at the Garner Pavilion. Hopefully, we would meet a girl whose mother would feed us. That was more important than even how pretty she was.

We also hoped to hitchhike to Ciudad Acuna. We planned to cross the Rio Grande from Del Rio. Our aim was to make it back in one piece. That almost did not happen one night when Johnny was arrested after we ate at Ma Crosby’s restaurant. Johnny had too much tequila and got into a fight. He was arrested and thrown into a Mexican jail.

The next morning, after he sobered up, he was released to my custody. Now, that was “the pot calling the kettle black.” After buying some Menudo on the streets, I realized it was a soup. I would not have eaten it with a gun to my head.

After gulping it down, Johnny said, “I will never be arrested in Mexico again. There was a dude eating rocks in my cell.”

I said, “I’d rather eat rocks than the Menudo you just ate.”

“I grew up on that. It tasted good to me. You should try it,” he said. To this day, I haven’t. I can’t get past that image.

When Tom T. Hall suggested Johnny write about his personal experiences, Johnny wrote Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico.”

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. He was from Lake Jackson, only a few miles from Angleton, where I grew up. 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 reached as far as 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 lead 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 who was a General in the army. 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 she 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. He slid back over.

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. He is 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 what I told her.

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 rarely 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 joins us for dinner?” 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, “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 in both languages, English and Spanish. 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 talking 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. 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.

You Can Say That Again

In 1996, I negotiated a deal with HighTone Records for Johnny Rodriguez. Johnny was living at my Austin home at the time. Johnny had several demands.

The primary one was that his Mercury Records producers from his heyday would produce the CD. Jerry Kennedy and Roy Dea agreed and produced “You Can Say That Again.” All six of Johnny Rodriguez’s Billboard #1 records were produced by them.

HighTone had their requirements: the main one was that there would be no re-cords. They wanted Johnny to record songs by more contemporary songwriters. These included Lucinda Williams’s “Big Red Sun Blues.” Other songs were Dave Alvin’s “Every Night About This Time,” and Robert Earl Keen’s “Corpus Christi Bay.” HighTone was not only after the country genre but also the Americana genre.

Johnny opened a letter from Roy Dea. Roy Dea was in charge of production. We reviewed the production sheet over coffee at my home.

At the bottom, according to Johnny, were these typed words (see attached). They were to go on the CD: “To the memory of Happy Shahan, who did much for me. I shall miss him every day for the rest of my life.” Happy died earlier that year, and it was still on Johnny’s mind.

Now, that tribute to Happy Shahan was new to me. I had no clue he wanted those words on the CD. When I read it, I asked Johnny who else he was thankful for. I attached the first page of his list. He wrote this page himself. It is placed over the sheet detailing Roy Dea’s production. Note that he circled God. The additional pages are in my book. So don’t be discouraged if you’re not on the first page.

During the 1990s, Johnny and I would hang out at a country music nightclub called New West in Austin. We became good friends with their DJ, Lisa Byrd (see attached photo). Lisa played an LP of Johnny’s, “After the Rain,” until it wore out.

On the LP was a song entitled “Mexico Rain.” The song is a waltz. Their crowd loved to three-step to the music when Lisa gave the record a spin.

However, there was a problem: the LP, “After the Rain,” was beginning to skip. No longer could they play the album. It was before technology became available to convert vinyl albums to digital. Today, any twelve-year-old can do that. Perhaps younger.

I called Roy Dea. “Hey Roy, can you cut a side that was released on Epic on Johnny.

“I thought the contract said, ‘no re-records,” Roy said.

“I know, but they will never catch it. It was never singled.” I could tell he was hesitant.

I told Lisa Byrd, “No can do.”

That was true until the last day of production. Roy Dea called me, “Hey Randy, I got that song on the CD for you.”

I was pleased, so was Lisa. But during all of this I failed to mention any of it to Johnny. In his first interview, an astute reporter asked Johnny, “HighTone press release states, “You Can Say That Again.” would have all new music. But it has a song you recorded before, “Mexico Rain.”

Without missing a beat, Johnny responded: “I decided to make an exception.”

I never ceased to be amazed by how fast he could “think on his feet.” He saved my “behind” that day. And never asked me about the inclusion afterward.

During Lisa Byrd’s time as a DJ at New West, she became like a sister to Johnny and me. She hung out with us often. And she never tolerated, shall I say, any of our less-than-best behavior.

Lisa Byrd, Johnny Rodriguez, and Randy Willis. Johnny had just sang something funny.

Johnny and Lisa are on my back deck overlooking Wells Branch, which flows into Walnut Creek in Austin. Their last photo together. She would soon be dead.

In time, Lisa became very ill. While working at New West, she got headaches from the cigarette smoke. She took Tylenol and chased the tablets down with alcohol. There were no warning labels at that time advising against doing that.

In 2010, while sitting around a fire in my backyard with Johnny, I received a call from Lisa’s daughter. As providence would have it, Lisa had just died of liver disease. As Johnny and I looked at each other in disbelief, we both began to weep. She was only 47.

How strange it was that we were together and alone when we received the news of our friend’s death. Or was that the providence of the Lord? I think so.

Lisa, as many of my friends wanted to meet Willie. I never did that. But Lisa was like a sister to me. So, I invited her to the Ben Willie Darrell benefit for East Austin kids. Lisa brought two friends. Look at Willie’s smile. When Lisa was in a room, everyone smiled. I took this photo of Lisa at the Four Seasons Hotel, 98 Jacinto Boulevard, Austin, at her request.

Coach Royal, Johnny, and I with the legendary baseball player Johnny Bench. Four Seasons Hotel, Austin, Texas, The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic.

Four Seasons Hotel, Austin, Texas, The Ben Willie Darrell East Austin Youth Classic.

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As winter approached in 1996, I received a call from Mercury Records. They requested that I inform Johnny about their plan. They were re-releasing 11 of his bestselling songs in an album entitled “The Hits.” The date would be sometime in 1997.

When I told Johnny, he said, “Call them back and request a few advance copies. Mercury mailed a case with the traditional hole punch in advance promotional copies.

The remastered hits sounded great. I had planned for months for my three sons and me to ski during the Christmas holidays. And I had recently bought a new home and had not had time to buy a washer and dryer.

Before I left for my ski vacation, Johnny and I loaded up our clothes and headed to the nearest laundromat. As we parked, an elderly lady was having trouble opening the heavy entrance door.

Johnny jumped out of my car and ran to open the door for her. She said, “Aren’t you Johnny Rodriguez?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

“What are you doing in a laundromat?” she asked.

“My laundry ma’am.” He would often forget he was famous.

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My sons and I were in Colorado skiing. Around midnight, Johnny decided to crawl into my back deck hot tub in his underwear. When he decided it was time to return to the house, he discovered the back patio door was locked. He had unintentionally slammed it shut. His phone was inside. His only choice was to ask my neighbor if he could use her phone to call a locksmith.

Yes, you’ve got the scene right: Johnny Rodriguez knocking on the door of my elderly neighbor. He had never met her before. It was midnight, freezing, and he was soaked to the bone. Oh, I almost forgot to mention again, in his underwear.

She answered the door. He began to explain. She interrupted him, “I know who you are. I’ve been meaning to drop by. Thank you for feeding my cat.”

She owned a huge white Tomcat that hated me. But, loved Johnny. They had become close friends. The cat only seemed to let Johnny and his owner get close to him. I never knew anyone else to get close to that finicky cat.

A few days later, the case of albums came in from Mercury. Johnny called me in Colorado to let me know that the first CD he gave was to our neighbor. She asked him to autograph it and said, “I never told you this, I’m a fan.” She cherished that gift.

Yes, the first copy of “The Hits” was hand-delivered to our neighbor by Johnny, fully dressed this time. Thank God.

Humility and thankfulness were two of Johnny’s greatest attributes.

And there were the many birthdays of my three sons and grandchildren that Johnny would drive many miles to attend. 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 served as the Grand Marshal of 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.

June 17, 1994, was a Friday. The event was the Ben Crenshaw, Willie Nelson, Darrell Royal Youth Classic at the Woodlands Country Club near Houston. Two days of golf followed by two nights of music. It would be one of the most memorable weekends of my 60-year friendship with Johnny Rodriguez.

She Thinks I Still Care

The day before, we took a not-so-memorable drive from my home in Austin to the Woodlands. Coach Darrell Royal had two condos reserved for us.

During the drive, we followed our usual routine. We listened to music. We also listened to cassettes of Western novels, such as those by Louis L’Amour. And shall I dare add our “duets?” Our favorite singer since we were in our mid-teens was Merle Haggard. We had long since “enhanced” all of his songs, as well as those of Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Sr., and Marty Robbins, along with other unsuspecting “victims.”

On this drive, it was George Jones’ turn. The first song was She Thinks I Still Care.

For those that can’t remember the lyrics, the song begins: “She thinks I still care

“Just because I asked a friend about her
Just because I spoke her name somewhere
Just because I rang her number by mistake today
She thinks I still care”

I kicked it off, “Just because I cut her tires today, she thinks I still care.”

Johnny sang the second verse, “Just because I shot her boyfriend, she thinks I still care.”

I sang in the family key. “Just because I wrote for a good time call on the gas station’s wall, she thinks I still care.”

“Just because I cried when she wrote me: ‘if the phone doesn’t ring, you’ll know it’s me'” Johnny added.

By this time, Johnny added, “Don’t you realize I can’t get over you until you get out from under him.” I was thinking of a Grammy. I know, thank God it was a short drive.

Oh, about the most memorable night in our 60-year friendship. Keep reading.

Coach Darrell Royal called me. He invited Johnny Rodriguez once again to play in the annual Ben Crenshaw, Willie Nelson, Darrell Royal Youth Classic. This year it was held at the Woodlands Country Club near Houston.

After 18 holes of golf and dinner in the country club’s restaurant, many people gathered in the adjoining lobby. It was 30 minutes before Johnny was to perform in the main ballroom. They waited for his performance, watching on two big-screen TVs in the lobby. The New York Knicks took on the hometown Houston Rockets in Game 5 of the NBA Finals.

I called Johnny in his condo, “It’s showtime in 15 minutes, ‘Boy Wonder'” (the nickname I gave him when he got his first top ten hit, Pass Me By. My cousin Jerry Kennedy was the head of Mercury Records in Nashville. He signed Johnny to his first recording contract in 1972. I wrote an article about that and Jerry Kennedy at this link: Jerry Kennedy – Randy Willis Newsletter

Johnny later retaliated by calling me “Colonel” after Colonel Tom Parker. He did this when I got him paid for a gig that no other acts were paid for. It was no big deal. My concentration in Business Administration was in accounting in college.

I was a “bean counter” on steroids. I was also a farm boy educated in “arithmetic” at the Harvard of the South. Dare I say, Southwest Texas State University, known today as Texas State University. The truth is, I saw several opening acts upset because they weren’t paid. Any hayseed cowboy, which I am, would have noticed.

I approached the venue’s owner and said, “I’m here to collect the balance of our money according to our contract.”

“I’ll will pay you out of the door at the end of the night,” he smiled. The venue was already standing room only.

“No problem, I totally understand.” I smiled back and turned to our band leader and said, “Load up, we are out of here.” The owner “miraculously” discovered the balance of our money in his safe. I later became good friends with him. In fairness to him, he spent a lot of money on advertising, which resulted in several bookings for us.

I did not learn any of this in college. I learned it from my dad, Jake Willis. He was a “horse trader” from the old school. You had to be shrewd to buy horses and mules, as well as cows and used farm equipment. Still do, especially so-called “kid horses.”

Daddy also taught me never to brag or gloat over a victory. One of my favorite sayings of his was, “If you give a man a headache, offer him an aspirin.” He believed in kindness. To this day, many of my friends are those I initially had issues with.

I never allowed a band member or roadie to tell Johnny about any problems beforehand. This was to keep him focused on the music. I would have to break my own rule at the Woodlands Country Club. It would be in front of two of my idols: Coach Darrell K Royal and Coach Bum Phillips.

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As I spoke with Coach Royal and Coach Phillips, one of the TVs suddenly switched to a scene in California. Within minutes, the Woodlands ballroom almost emptied into the lobby. O.J. Simpson was leading police on a wild chase in a white Bronco driven by his former teammate, Al Cowlings. Simpson had a gun to his head.

Johnny Rodriguez, Darrell Royal, Bum Phillips, and Randy Willis. The Woodland Country Club.

Coach Phillips said, “I use to coach Cowlings.”

Fifteen minutes passed. Johnny looked at me and said, “You don’t expect me to play Colonel, do you?”

I looked towards the ballroom and saw at least 200 people seated. I then looked at Coach Royal, who had a “the show must go on” look. I replied, “Your set is only five songs. Here’s your setlist.” Johnny looked at me. It was as if I had asked him to sing our new version of, She Thinks I Still Care.

We walked into the ballroom. Johnny sang each song in what appeared to be a new up-tempo version.

By then, all of the broadcast networks and CNN were carrying every bit of O.J. Simpson’s drama live. On NBC, the chase produced the most bizarre split-screen ever at The Woodlands. On one side of the screen, the Knicks and the hometown Rockets battled for NBA supremacy at Madison Square Garden.

On the other screen, the white Bronco inched down a Los Angeles freeway. O.J. Simpson still had a gun to his head. Hundreds of police followed in non-hot pursuit.

Some 95 million people watched the chase that night while Johnny sang “Pass Me By” and four other hits. The last being We’re Over, which should have been sung as Thank God We’re Over.

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Across America, people stood in large groups. They gathered in front of televisions in bars, restaurants, and other public places. They were gawking at the spectacle from highway overpasses. There were no cell phones in 1994 that could receive TV signals. The technology was decades away.

The world seemed to stop as Simpson held a gun to his head. How could this be? He was a beloved superstar.

The world seems to stop and watch as Simpson holds a gun to his head in this Ford Bronco. The current owner offered it for sale in 2024 for $ 1.5 million.

After Johnny’s set, he and I went to his bungalow and watched the new movie Tombstone. “O.J. once sat on stage at a concert of mine in Los Angeles. I met him, and he seemed like a nice guy,” Johnny said. That was all that was said about that drama as the movie began! We were both emotionally worn out.

My friend from college, Powers Boothe, played Curly Bill Brocius in Tombstone. Johnny had met him in 1987 on the set of the movie Extreme Prejudice. The protagonist in the film was Nick Nolte. His character was modeled after Texas Ranger Joaquin Jackson, who introduced Johnny to Happy Shahan.

Randy Willis and Powers Boothe. Austin at La Zona Rosa in 1997.

Johnny, Powers, and I would reunite in Austin at La Zona Rosa in 1997. Johnny was playing there. Our old friend Powers Boothe walked in with an array of talent. This included Dana Delany, Annabeth Gish, and a young actress I’d never heard of, Angelina Jolie. They were all in a TV Mini-series entitled True Women. The entourage would attend two more gigs I booked for Johnny. Dana was also in Tombstone.

We were both glad we did not disappoint Coach Royal or the folks who paid to hear the music. That money was used to benefit children in need.

I’ve often been asked who the most challenging act was Johnny ever followed. “Oh, that’s easy, O.J. Simpson.”

Two days later, on the drive home, we saw a sign. It advertised a fancy restaurant on IH 10. The sign read “Champagne brunch.” We looked at each other, and both said “Yes.” I exited the highway. Tequila would have been a more appropriate choice.

We listened to my new Gary P. Nunn album on the way home and marveled at how underrated he was. I decided to invite him to perform on a new TV show I was co-producing. We filmed two shows that day, one with Sonny Throckmorton and the other with Nunn.

Coach Royal said, “He will shoot himself.” Why did he believe that I didn’t ask, but I did know they knew each other? O.J. Simpson played football against the University of Texas while at the University of Southern California (USC). The year before, John Wayne was Coach Royal’s guest on the sidelines. Wayne, too, played football for USC.

John Wayne Backstory

Saturday, September 17, 1966. On this day, John Wayne was on the Texas Longhorns’ bench as a guest of Coach Darrell K Royal.

The following year, my friend James Street was a sophomore. He was not yet the starting quarterback for the University of Texas Longhorns.

Street, who watched as a sophomore from the sidelines, as O.J. Simpson rushed for 158 yards against the Longhorns on September 23, 1967. Simpson was arguably the best college running back at the time.

James told me, “As a kid from Longview, I was intimidated. I was a backup quarterback at Texas behind one of the best athletes I had ever seen, Bill Bradley. The guy could dunk a basketball with two hands.

“And seeing John Wayne seated on the Longhorn bench as a freshman, I felt somewhat overwhelmed at Texas.”

Two games into the 1968 season, Street took over as the starting quarterback. He led the Longhorns to an undefeated 20-0 record, including the 1969 National Championship. He never lost a game as a starting quarterback at the University of Texas. Yes, I believe his number 16 should be retired. That is after Arch Manning finishes his career at the University of Texas, since he wears the same number. James Street was one of the most charismatic, yet humble, persons I have ever known. One only needed to be around him for five minutes to realize he was a natural-born leader.

James was thoughtful, as this letter shows. RIP James.

James Street, Sammy Allred, Doug English, Randy Willis, Johnny Rodriguez, and Bob Cole. KVET Radio. Austin, Texas.

James Street and Randy Willis are pictured here. Randy is in a red shirt. They are with half of the customers at Matt’s El Rancho Mexican Restaurant in Austin.

I had to ask about Coach Royal’s friendship with Wayne. It was over dinner at Matt’s El Rancho. Coach Royal loved Mexican food, and I did too. After a couple of glasses of wine, he was relaxed. It was a good time to ask about John Wayne.

Coach Darrell Royal, a friend of Randy Willis, and Randy Willis. Eddie V’s Prime Seafood Restaurant, Austin, Texas

Wayne invited Coach Royal to the set of The Alamo during the filming of the movie in 1960. I had been told about this before by Happy Shahan, who owned the ranch where the movie set was built. The movie set was later known as Alamo Village in Brackettville, Texas. Johnny Rodriguez was discovered there a decade later. His first manager was Happy Shahan.

We all came together in 1972 at Cisco’s Mexican Restaurant in East Austin. Darrell Royal, Johnny Rodriguez, Happy Shahan, Willie Nelson, and I were present. Coach Royal invited an array of dignitaries to meet Johnny, including United States Representative J.J. Pickle. Johnny and I became lifelong friends with the legendary owner of Cisco’s, Rudy Cisneros. The restaurant was our favorite for breakfast in Austin.

I had never read or heard about the time when Coach Royal invited John Wayne to dinner, though. This occurred while he was in Austin during the weekend of the 1967 game.

Coach Royal said that he and John Wayne went to dinner at The Headliners Club. The club was then located at the Driskill Hotel. As they approached the Driskill, a man walked up to John Wayne and said, “You don’t look so tough. I am going to whip your a_______.”

Wayne explained to the man that the characters he played in the movies were not him.

Then, the man spat on John Wayne.

Coach Royal told me that John Wayne hit him with a right cross and knocked him down with one punch.

They helped the stunned man recover and asked if he needed a taxi. The man ran away.

Coach Royal asked Wayne, who had asked him to call him “Duke,” a question over dinner. “I thought you only did that in the movies.”

The Duke smiled.

Years ago, I joined the Headliners Club on the 21st floor of Chase Tower. At that time, I asked if they had ever heard that story. They had only two “old timers” on their staff who knew of the story. I later nominated Earl Campbell for membership at his request. This was our first lunch together at the Headliners Club. We would also host charity events there.

Randy Willis The Headliners Club

Randy Willis at The Headliners Club in Austin.

Randy Willis at The Headliners Club in Austin.

One of the reasons I love Texas. I last saw Lady Bird Johnson at the Headliners Club in Austin at an event that honored a couple people. I was one of them. As always, she was escorted by two Secret Service Agents. She was gracious and kind as always.

Lady Bird Johnson later had her book “Wildflowers Across America” hand-delivered to me at my home in Austin.

“For Randy Willis

“A hero for Children’s Hospital and for our family. Your wisdom and your grace are our blessings.

“With generations of gratitude.”

Lady Bird Johnson

Luci Baines Johnson (Her daughter)

Nicole Nugent Covert (Her Granddaughter)

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A few other photos from The Ben Willie Darrell at The Woodlands Country Club

Mike Sole, Danny Steagall (Red Steagall’s brother), Freddy Powers, Johnny Rodriguez and Randy Willis.

Bud Lee co-wrote Friends in Low Places made famous by Garth Brooks. The girl on the right was an FBI agent in training at the time. She was Johnny’s date. I had to ask, “Johnny, hopefully, she won’t be after Hannibal Lecter tonight.” We both loved the movie “The Silence of the Lambs.” She gave him an FBI t-shirt. He loved it because he loved cops.

Johnny and Lana’s wedding. I was Johnny’s best man.

Many of my friends have passed away. RIP and thanks for the memories, Coach Darrell K Royal, Coach Bum Phillips, and James Street. Thanks also to James White, Sammy Allred, and Freddy Powers. This year, we remember Johnny Rodriguez.

Doug English, Bethany Campbell, Randy Willis, Bum Phillips, and James Street.

The Headliners Club. Austin, Texas. A benefit for Azleway Children’s Homes.

Willie Nelson’s Luke, Texas

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 Coach Royal’s suggestion. 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 knocked the famous coach out. 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. There were no others after that. Only friendships. 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.

1440 Otter Creek Road Home

Johnny would later buy a home at 1440 Otter Creek Road in Brentwood. The two-acre lot was in the Brentwood suburb. Eddy Arnold moved to Brentwood in 1950 when it was out in the country. Arnold had a ranch there; he made a fortune selling land in Brentwood.

One morning, while Johnny was mowing his grass, Eddy drove by. When he spotted Johnny, he pulled into his driveway and said, “Hop in, I’ll buy you breakfast.” Johnny’s producer was Jerry Kennedy, the head of Mercury Records in Nashville. He also lived in Brentwood. Many other stars lived there, including Dolly Parton.

Johnny Rodriguez’s home at 1440 Otter Creek Road in Brentwood, Tennessee

Aerial view of Johnny Rodriguez’s home was at 1440 Otter Creek Road in Brentwood, Tennessee. See the Green Arrow. It was on 2-acres.

Johnny’s former fiancées, “almost wives, and the love of his life.”

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. But there was another. Not a family member, but the romantic love of his life. Now, grant you, he told numerous women he loved them, and perhaps he loved them all. But this one was different.

Respect

We all have loved someone but did not trust them. And therefore, did not respect them. During Johnny Rodriguez’s life, there was one he loved, trusted, and respected for over half a century. She was the romantic love of his life. And you probably never heard of her, because that’s the way she was and still is.

He adored Melanie Clark and trusted her with his taxes and finances until his death. Throughout the last half-century, Johnny Rodriguez asked Melanie Clark to marry him numerous times. She refused because of his addiction. Johnny wrote of her in his songs. Johnny’s respect for Melanie was unmatched.

I have seen photos of them that belong to her, but she will not let me post them. But I’m taking the unasked-for liberty of including a few photos of us three that belong to me.

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.

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. She has fought for royalties owed to him.

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.”

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.

The Summer of 1994

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________.”

During happier days with Rick Blackburn. The Cumberland River on Sept. 21, 1983, to celebrate the release of the new album, “For Every Rose,” by Johnny Rodriguez, center. Label chief Rick Blackburn, left, and producer Richie Albright, join Rodriguez on the bow of the Belle Carol riverboat. They show off their appropriate roses.

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.

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How I Wrote this Story: Research, Visit, and Have Fun!

“I first researched everything I could about my subject. Then, I like to visit the location around the time of year the event took place. This happens when I write a story for a novel or biography. It helps me capture the essence of the scene. I want to experience the colors of trees and flowers at that time of year. In this case, I ride my horse down the creek. Then, I climb the steep bluffs to find out how much noise we make and how my saddle horse responds. And finally, I reward myself with a dash of fun after a day or two of research. The latter keeps me from burning out.” Randy Willis

Example: Researching Texas Ranger Jack C. Hay for my novel Texas Wind

Every Western novel and movie I have read, watched, and written about is influenced by Texas Ranger Jack C. Hays. The Texas Rangers led to the creation of Colt’s six-shot revolver. It was a time when the Comanche controlled the Texas Hill Country that I live in today.

John Coffee “Jack” Hays is one of my heroes. He became legendary in June 1844 on the Pinta Trail during the Walker’s Creek Fight.

The fight had several names. It was known as the Battle of Pinta Trail Crossing. It was also referred to as the Battle of Cista’s Creek. Another name was the Battle of Sisters Creek.

The exact location was at today’s Sister Creek. It flows into the Guadalupe River next to Sisterdale Road (FM 1376). This spot is one mile south of present-day Sisterdale, Texas.

I smell the grass and watch the white-tailed deer drink from the creek. As I observe the breathtaking views, the story comes to life. Randy Willis

Get permission from the landowner. Saddle up. Trailer your cow ponies for a few hours. Hire a guide who works for the landowner (see the photo below). Then, you are ready to ride. Oh, I forgot to buy a pair of boots for my trusted friend as promised. I’ll make that later with dinner and music by Willie.

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The Texas Hill Country, with its rivers, animals, and scenery, is my sanctuary. It is my “City of Refuge”, as the Bible describes it. Here, I seek His face, His peace, His wisdom, and, yes, His joy!

Jack C. Hays led fourteen men from his ranger company on a scouting mission. They were searching for a Comanche war party led by Yellow Wolf. This group had recently been raiding Bexar County.

The “Houston Morning Star” characterized Walker’s Creek as “Unparalleled in this country for the gallantry displayed on both sides, its close and deadly struggle, and the triumphant success of the gallant partisan captain of the West.”

This fight marked the first time a company of rangers used Colt revolvers in combat. The Comanche participated in the battle. Later, he complained that the rangers “Had a shot for every finger on the hand.”

The Comanche were right. Hays was the first to use the Colt Paterson five-shot revolver. He quickly sent Samuel Walker to meet with Samuel Colt. Their meeting led to the design of the legendary Colt Walker six-shot revolver used in the Old West. I’m reminded of that every time John Wayne reaches for his six-shooter!

The next day, we drove an hour to Whitewater Amphitheater. It is near Canyon Lake and New Braunfels, Texas. We went there to celebrate our research. We also planned to see another hero perform, Willie Nelson, who lives in the Texas Hill Country.

Now, I’m ready to write the story. Excerpt from my novel Texas Wind

June 1, 1844, Pinta Trail Crossing on the Guadalupe River

The Texas Hill Country

The sounds of change brought glorious news that blew like trumpets from heaven. The first trumpet sounded like a story Theo Cormier had shared with Joseph in a letter.

Fifteen Texas Rangers left their headquarters in San Antonio. They were looking for a Comanche war party that was raiding and terrorizing the settlers. The Rangers traveled on the Pinta Trail as far as the Pedernales River without a trace of any Comanches.

After nine days, the Rangers decided to turn back and make camp at a crossing on the Guadalupe River. One Ranger saw a large band of Comanches after climbing a bee tree. “Must be a thousand of ‘em!” he yelled. Those fifteen rangers found what they’d been looking for…and then some.

Theo had ventured to San Antonio, looking for `employment. A couple of German immigrants hired him for protection. They explored the Pedernales River to find a place to start a settlement.

They told Theo they wanted to name the town after Prince Frederick of Prussia. One tried to call it Fritztown, and another suggested Fredericksburg. When they returned to the Pinta Trail, they heard guns firing like never before. Theo figured there must have been a hundred or so firing by the number of shots. He discovered the number to be only fifteen.

Theo told the immigrants to wait for him down the trail. “I got to know what kind of guns they’re usin’,” he said.

He managed to identify himself to the leader of the men and soon discovered they were Texas Rangers. Remembering our friend Jim Bowie, a former Ranger, Theo began to fire. The Ranger told him, ‘Your gun will be of little effect again’ ‘em. Use one of my five-shooters!’

Those Indians started yelling bad things in Spanish at the Rangers. They called them cowards and all sorts of things. The Rangers’ leader saw Yellow Wolf, who led the Comanches. The Ranger said something like, “Yellow Dog, son of a dog-mother, the Comanche liver is white!” That’s when the fighting really began picking up. Theo thought, Who is this man?

Theo began to shoot and soon discovered he was no match for that Ranger. Within five minutes, Theo was hit with an arrow. It knocked him to the ground, and he lay there, stunned. He lifted his head and could see the shaft of his demise sticking straight up in the air. He asked himself, “Why ain’t I dead?”

With a trembling hand, he reached inside his coat. There was no blood. As Theo sought to find his wound, he touched the bloody Bible in his coat’s pocket. He thought, I’ll be! It would seem this little Book has saved my life!

Backstory: Who was Jack C. Hays?

Captain Jack C. Hays—Legendary Texas Ranger. Hays built a reputation for fighting marauding Indians and Mexican bandits.

An Indian who switched sides and rode with Hays said the Indians called the young Ranger Captain “bravo too much.”

Rachel Jackson, Andrew Jackson’s wife, was his great-aunt. In 1836, at 19, Hays migrated to the Republic of Texas. Sam Houston appointed him to the Texas Rangers because he knew the Hays family from Tennessee. Jack Hays met with Sam Houston and delivered a letter of recommendation from his uncle, Andrew Jackson.

He moved to California during the 1849 gold rush. In 1850, he was elected sheriff of San Francisco County. Later, he became one of Oakland’s founders. The San Francisco 49ers football team was named after the 1849 gold rush.

The same holds true for my novels

I have researched and written a story for my “nonfiction novel,” Texas Wind while making it a fun adventure. Truman Capote claimed to have invented this genre with his book In Cold Blood in 1965. Yes, I know the term nonfiction novel is a misnomer to some.

Texas Wind depicts accurate historical figures and actual events. These are woven together with imaginary conversations using fiction’s storytelling techniques.

Texas Wind was inspired by true stories handed down by my ancestors.

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 may or may not be true, “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” illustrates 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 speaks to us in many ways. 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 of 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 past 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 me 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.

Cisco’s Restaurant in East Austin.

My life is but a footnote to the following Good News. —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 Luke 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, which 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’s 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

How did I come to know Christ?

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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I found this charred letter from my pastor, Dr. Ralph Smith, after my home burned in the Texas Hill Country. It was the encouragement I needed.

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

✯ Vaya con Dios ✯