Today I attended a funeral at the Fairy Baptist Church in Hico, Texas.
Of course, when I say "attended", I don't mean that I was in Hico today. Actually, I was sitting in the bed of my dad's pickup truck, eating a roast beef sandwich, looking out on the Southern California hillsides.
That is to say, during my lunch break at work, a beloved cowboy was being laid to rest in Texas and I was one of approximately 230 viewers on Facebook Live. Technology is cool like that.
I don't remember the first time I heard about Don Edwards-- it may have been from my longtime friends JR and Rose Sanders, as they introduced me to a lot of cowboy culture when I was a young musician. I think I may have crossed paths with Don Edwards at festivals maybe a sparse couple of times. I know I saw him many times at the Santa Cruz guitar booth at NAMM. One year I even shook his hand. I never formally met him or spent more than a couple seconds with him. But I never could miss the piercing blue eyes beneath his big white hat. When I was in the presence of Don Edwards, I always knew it. There's no mistaking Don Edwards.
This giant of a cowboy left behind a very long shadow this week, one that reaches even to people like me, who don't have inspiring, witty, or moving personal stories about him.
Today I heard from his church family. They fondly recall Christmas caroling with him. They recalled the Sunday morning singing and his fellowship on the weeks he wasn't traveling.
Today I heard from his children and grandchildren. They carry his torch into the future, lighting their way with his legacy. I heard them sing his signature song and read a poem they wrote in tribute to his impact on their lives.
Today I heard from his friends Red Steagall and Michael Martin Murphey. They were deeply influenced in their own careers by the unwavering artistry and genuine entertainment he offered.
And amidst the sorrow of losing a grandfather, a father, a husband, a saddle pal, a poet, a singer, a hero, and a friend, there was much joy. You see, as Pastor Bob Ray said during the service, how ever we remember Don at his best, he is currently even better than that.
Don Edwards carried the brand of Jesus on him. He was saved by the sacrifice of Christ's burial and resurrection and he was not afraid to share his faith with others.
"Hey Michael, I have great news," he once told his friend, Michael Martin Murphey, "last night I rededicated my life to Christ!"
"That's great news," his friend said.
"I have even better news...I'm a Baptist!"
Yes, friends, Don is at this very moment enjoying the mansion Jesus prepared just for him. And all his friends, family, fans, and folks like me can smile through our tears that we have the promise to see him again in that sweet by and by.
In the sweet meantime, we bid him adios, we tip our hat, and listen as one more coyote yips away underneath the western stars. I guess the whole point of me writing this is just this: you never realize who you influence. Don Edwards didn't know me from Adam. But I sure was moved by the impact he had on those who loved him.
To close, here are the lyrics to the song Michael Martin Murphey sang today, in that small Baptist church in Hico, Texas --a perfect send off in my opinion:
I wish that summer could last forever
That cold winds never would reach our door
I wish old partners could ride for ever
On summer ranges forever more
But snow must fall on summer ranges
Old friends must face the bitter wind
And someday when the season changes
On summer ranges we'll ride again
So may my farewell always warm you
And let the sun dance in your heart
May thoughts of parting never harm you
For true partners never part
But snow must fall on summer ranges
Old friends must face the bitter wind
And someday when the season changes
On summer ranges we'll ride again
And someday when the season changes
On summer ranges
We'll ride again
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