Willie Nelson, His Band and A Secret Love

Girls, take heart – and guys listen up -- when one reaches the ¾ century mark we still think about men – particularly the ones that got away and/or the ones with whom we never had a chance. I have a secret love like that – the never even had a chance kind. I’m not referring to someone like Robert Redford that one loves – or lusts – after but never meets. I not only met my Crush that got away but actually spent a bit of time with him many years ago – strictly platonic time.

I’m sure at the time he thought I was as dumb and green as duck doo – because I was. I was certainly in no way wise enough nor “with it” enough to travel in his circles. He was already pretty well known – even back then – and doubt he ever saw me as anything other than Steven Fromholz’ sister – everybody else did – just “Sis.”

Now, this guy isn’t someone most of you ladies would even consider romantically ‘cause he’s definitely not the type that mows the lawn every Saturday morning, washes the car every Saturday afternoon and has dinner each evening at eight -- definitely “unlikely to be domesticated.” He’s always had the reputation of coloring outside the lines. This guy already had a reputation as a bad ass in Texas before he ever became known to the general public. He didn’t make any bones about who and what he was then nor after he became famous.

I like a man that doesn’t run from, or lie about who he really is. If anyone remembers Jack Paladin the actor – well, this guy had that kind of rugged looks and charm – not handsome but damn sure worth a second look and I wasn’t the only one lookin’. I am the one that said (1) I’d never fall in love with a musician or (2) marry one. I kept the last part of that declaration (probably ‘cause this guy never gave me the chance) – the first part – not so much.

I first became aware of this man when I was probably 22-23 years old because my distant cousin (by marriage) was married to him. Yeah, Deedles was a relative – like a first cousin by marriage. She was divorced with a baby (about the age of my son – a year old) when I first met her. When I next saw her she, her son and her parents came to visit out the ranch one day and she had some photos of herself and her new husband. Lord, the minute I laid eyes on that man I thought he was the most interesting looking guy I’d ever seen (come on now self, thou shalt not covet thy cousin’s husband). Anyway over the next three years Deedles and I became friends and she’d come out to the ranch and our sons would play together.

Our kids might have been five or six when Deedles, having suffered terrible health problems for some years, passed away. My husband, Bill attended the funeral in Austin, Texas, alone as our son wasn’t well at that time so I didn’t accompany him. Bill came home from the funeral pushed totally out of shape! He said the only people at the funeral were a bunch of hippies. I didn’t ask any questions as my brother was a musician and definitely a part of that genre.

Fast forward quite a few years – Bill and I have divorced and I’m now managing my brother, Steven Fromholz’ music career and living in Austin, Texas. The first gig we had after I began wearing manager boots was in Las Vegas opening for Willie Nelson. Imagine my surprise when I discovered my long-time crush was a member of Willie’s band and had been for years – I didn’t know that! (But it explained Bill’s displeasure about the “hippies” that attended Deedles funeral. I found my dream guy (her husband) had been playing in Willie’s band for quite a few years before we went to Vegas so probably a lot of musician-types -- hippies? -- attended her funeral).

The minute we arrived at the Golden Nugget and had our stuff unloaded and our rooms secured; I made it a point to meet my secret crush, up close and personal. Steven introduced us and my dream guy was just as interesting in person as he was in the picture I’d drooled over all those years ago. We had a drink, visited a bit and I mentioned being related to Deedles. Tears sprang to his eyes although she’d passed away many years before and I’ll never forget what he said: “Well, you sure knew her because only family called her by that nickname.” I think Deedles was a kind of bridge between us from that moment on.

After finding I’d never gambled in my life; he offered to teach me and we left the bar and hit the casino. He bought a huge pile of chips, put them in front of me and proceeded to teach me to play Blackjack. We must have sat there an hour with me doing all the gambling and him just coaching me a bit here and there. We were also visiting about family again and I found out Deedles’ son – yeah, the one that played with my son when they were little – now drove the bus for Willie and the band. Seems after Deedles died my dream guy had raised her son by himself, quite obviously adored the (now) young man and considered him his own.

I was finally down to a very few chips and made the remark “Wow, I thought I was doing pretty good but look – I’m nearly out of chips.” He got a big hoot out of that and advised me, “Darlin’, these folks ain’t gonna come out here, build cities in the desert, keep all these lights burnin’, spend all that money and let you win!” I’ve never forgotten that advice.

We visited on several occasions after that as the Las Vegas law saw my dream guy differently than I did. He was considered a “police character” and the only way he was allowed in Vegas was if he didn’t leave the casino where he was working – so he wasn’t hard to find for them or me! We were booked for a week and when the gig was over he got on the bus with Willie and I loaded up with Steven and we went on down the road. In the ensuing years we’d occasionally cross paths at music affairs or gigs but never had more than a few seconds to hug and say a quick “hideee” then head out again.

A lot of years passed after that. I’d know what my dream guy was doing but didn’t see much of him. In 2003 Steven had a massive stroke and it was quite a while before he was able to work again. The first gig after the stroke -- Willie Nelson was the headliner. This was held at a famous Texas ranch and it had rained, was muddy, hot and humid. We didn’t see Willie or any of his folks before Steven went onstage. When he finished his part of the show and left the stage, Poodie, Willie’s road manager was standing at the bottom of the steps to tell him Willie was there and wanted Steven to come to the bus and visit. Steven and Will had been close for years and hadn’t seen each other since the stroke. I didn’t go.

Probably an hour passed before Steven returned, said he and Will had a good visit and he’d left as Willie was fixing to go onstage. While we were having this conversation someone walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and there was the one that got away. A lot older for sure – just like me -- but he still looked like a million dollars, dressed all in black with a 500X Stetson hat – black of course. He seemed happy, in good health and was having a big old time – and dammit, was as handsome as ever. This old heart pitty-patted as we hugged and all the usual amenities between old friends – no matter how brief. We caught up on family – I knew he had remarried – I was divorced – he was married, he was married, he was married (I kept reminding myself).

After Willie and the band came off stage we all visited briefly -- they were worn out from the heat, as were we, and left soon thereafter. I daydreamed all the way back to the motel but didn’t say a word to any of our little entourage. My dream crush might have a bad reputation, been a bit on the wrong side of the law, a real, live tough guy but he was undoubtedly the sweetest, kindest, most generous and loving guy to his friends one could ever meet. I would not, however, under any circumstances want to be his enemy.

I finally decided -- that last time I saw him at the ranch gig -- I was grown, divorced and could be secretly in love with whomever I chose – so, all these years that’s where it’s stayed -- and I’ll still be smitten when the last shovel full of dirt hits me square in the face!

Willie Nelson wrote a song some years back about the adventures he’s shared over 40+ years with the guy who used to be his manager, is now his drummer and always will be his best friend. When I hear that song I put myself in his (Willie’s) place and pretend the song’s about me and the guy with whom I never had a chance – nor did he ever have a clue I admired him from afar. Yep, me and Will got the same taste in people – just for different reasons.

The song’s called “Me and Paul” and I can damn well pretend it’s for me and Paul English if I want to! I think Will also wrote a song about “The Devil In A Sleeping Bag” for Paul – which will also remain conjecture for this old woman!

I've not seen Paul since that night at the ranch in 2003. I understand he suffered a mild stroke in 2010 but is once again on the road with Willie. I hope he's gonna be on the road for a long, long time. . .

Part of a Series of Articles entitled "In the Music Business You Dance Alone"

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