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RIP Kris Kristofferson (1936-2024)



What do you say about a man like Kris Kristofferson?  To even begin to try a description of his life, career and impact with the very language he mastered seems futile. Alas, I will try.  Because it is on my heart to do so and his humanity knew no bounds.


A true Renaissance man from Brownsville, TX, Kris lived a dozen lives in one.  And that was all before he turned 40.  The son of a military man, Kristofferson grew up on the coast of Texas with an Airmen’s discipline and a poetic soul.  The two sides were never at odds, rather they were complementary pieces of his intellect and artistic abilities. Just take a gander at his official biography for the rundown that still doesn't feel complete. “He was an Oxford scholar, a defensive back, a bartender, a Golden Gloves boxer, a gandy dancer, a forest-fighter, a road crew member, and an Army Ranger who flew helicopters. He was a peacenik, a revolutionary, an actor, a superstar, a Casanova, and a family man. He was almost a teacher at West Point, though he gave that up to become a Nashville songwriting bum.”


Most folks can only hope to master one of those things.  He mastered it all.  Plus, it didn’t hurt that he had charisma and charm seeping out of every fiber of his very being.  He owned rooms, screens and stages across the globe no matter who he was sharing the frame with. Quite possibly the most handsome and talented Texan to ever take his talents to the universe. For the purpose of this remembrance we will solely focus on the music.  Which is kind of like saying for the state of Texas we will only focus on it being large.


He took a circuitous route to songwriting.  He went to college, became a Rhodes Scholar, returned to the states, joined the Army, began flying helicopters and started a family. The Army assigned him to teach English at West Point.  He did that long enough to know that wasn’t the right spot for him.  He began soaking in Bob Dylan and investigating Nashville.  On a plane ride to Music City USA he met Cowboy Jack Clement, then he bumped into Tom T. Hall and some guy named Johnny Cash.  The encounters were fortuitous for his career, if not his marriage.

Soon, he became more enamored with chasing songwriting ghosts as opposed to raising a family.  Kris spent more time knocking around Nashville and famously being a janitor at a recording studio than just about anything else.  He immersed himself in the songwriting culture and set about writing songs that would get a knowing nod from his peers.  Commercial success be damned, he was seeking something greater.  When Hall heard his “From the Bottle to the Bottom”, he remarked to Kris, “that’s a good song.”  Kristofferson never looked back. 


By the time Cash cut “Sunday Morning Coming Down”, Kristofferson’s bonafides and street cred were starting to match the public’s taste.  Roger Miller first recorded “Me and Bobby McGee”, a song that Kris recorded at the behest of his label boss who somewhat jokingly asked him to write a song about his secretary named Bobby McKee.  Fellow Texas coast native and survivor, Janis Joplin heard the tune and cut it mere days before her death.  It would go on to become a signature tune posthumously and further cement Kristofferson’s legend.

And with that buzz, Kristofferson stepped behind the microphone himself for the first time.  Cranking out his own versions of his already classic songs and introducing the world to new songs that would become canon, notably “Help Me Make It Through the Night”. Soon enough the power of Kristofferson could not only be contained to a musical realm and he began his Hollywood dalliance. He didn’t let the movie business distract from his music business.  He cranked out ten albums over the next decade, toured the world and became one of the biggest stars on the planet.  Not bad for a guy who self admitted “I sing like a frog.”  The good news is, he didn’t write like one.


The song catalog of Kris Kristofferson is second to none.  He’s in the argument for greatest songwriter of all time.  He was a Highwayman.  A part of the country music Mt. Rushmore. ““Every time I look at a picture of Willie and me and John and Waylon, I find it amazing that they let the janitor in there,” Kristofferson once joked.


He challenged what country music could and should be.  He raised the bar on what a good song is.  He expanded horizons and expectations.  He made everyone after him try to measure up.  Just about everyone never could.  


“When I got started, I was one of the people hoping to bring respect to country music,” once said Kris Kristofferson.  Mission accomplished. Poet. Pilot. Teacher. Preacher. Pacifist. Army Ranger. A man at odds with the world and helping to explain it all at once.  A dozen lives of art, adventure, music, exploration and independence quietly came to an end on Maui on Sat September 28, 2024.   But, the impact Kris Kristofferson made will be felt forever.



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