
For as long as I can recall, my brother wanted to be in a band. He didn’t have any particular musical talent and his singing voice was harsh & scratchy. Any nearby surface became his drum set where he would slap his hands on the countertop, the television or the dash of your car. His constant singing and drumming annoyed the hell out of my sisters and I, and we would endlessly beg him to stop.
In his early twenties he managed to hook up with some local bands, playing the tambourine or shaking some maracas in the background. He soon took up the harmonica, which added a whole other god awful layer of sound to the house. When he was home, we tended to go into our bedrooms and close the doors. He bounced around with a few of these local bands for awhile and then decided he wanted something bigger.
It was the seventies, the era of Arena Rock. Big name bands criss crossed the country selling out huge venues and my brother decided he wanted in. We lived in a town halfway between Dallas & Fort Worth and bands booked into the big arenas, able to sell out two shows back to back without having to change hotels or get back on the tour bus. My brother would either bum a ride or hitchhike to the arena the day of the show, Reunion Arena in Dallas or the Tarrant County Convention Center. There he would wait in the parking lot for the roadies to arrive. He would hang back for a while, out of sight, and then when they started moving heavy equipment, he would appear and offer to help. The crews were almost always understaffed, with half the roadies sleeping off last night’s partying, so they would gladly take him up on his offer.
He knew how to hook up the equipment, set up the sound board and check the lighting. He was often invited to hang out and was usually paid in booze and weed. He didn’t care, he just loved being a part of the scene. Over time, he worked with and sometimes played with, the likes of Bad Company, Thin Lizzy, Kansas, Aerosmith, Tom Petty and more. When he would tell us about it at home , my sisters and I would be like “Yeah, right…you played with the Allman Brothers” thinking that he was full of shit, but the lanyards carrying backstage passes gave some credit to his stories.
Once, when I was in high school, I came home to find a group of guys in my house playing pool in our den. Long hair, beards, tight tee shirts, motorcycle boots. My mother was in the kitchen making sandwiches for them. When my brother came into the kitchen I asked “What bunch of loser roadies did you bring home for Mother to feed ?” He replied “ Those losers are the members of Lynrd Skynrd”. I stuck my head over the stove and looked through the pass through window to take a closer look. Holy Shit ! That was Lynrd Skynrd in my den ! I ran as fast as I could to my bedroom where I started dialing everyone I knew.
At some point, my brother injured his back while moving the equipment and had to have surgery. With time his harmonica playing improved greatly, and he alternated between the arena gigs and a local cover band that played pretty consistently around town. The surgery did not cure his back issues, and over the years he had thirteen fully invasive back surgeries plus a couple of weird treatments in Mexico and Canada. Pain ruled his life and pain pills and alcohol took over. He was honest with his doctors, and his medical charts listed a litany of cigarettes, weed, cocaine, pills and copious amounts of alcohol.
He died in a nursing home at the age of 67, his body having succumbed to the abuse and dementia cruelly taking away his ability to function. I was the one who looked after him in recent years, taking him to doctors appointments, fighting with Social Security over his disability payments and rushing him to the emergency room every time he had run out of pain meds because he had taken too many before the prescriptions ran out. His condition rapidly declined in 2020, and because of the pandemic I was not allowed into the nursing home for months. When it was clear he was not going to live much longer, they allowed me in to visit one last time. I picked up one of the many harmonicas he had on his dresser and blew softly into it for awhile. His head turned towards me just a bit and I wondered if he appreciated the sound or was pissed that I was touching his harp. Unable to hold a memorial service due to the pandemic, time passed on without any kind of ceremony.
Last week I was in a store when I heard a Blues Traveler song on the sound system. Teras came streaming down my face without warning.















