He always drove West with the Night wearing a pearl snap shirts, 501 Levis, ML Leddy cowboy boots with mule ears, and a Silver Belly Stetson Hat. He smelled of cigarettes and Old Spice, and always wore a silk scarf around his neck.
A guitar pickin,’ truck drivin,’ airplane flyin,’ cowboy gentleman. That was my Gramp. He had a band in the 50’s with his best friend “The Country Two” and loved to sing, play the guitar and piano. He owned a trucking company and hauled refrigerated goods back from the west coast regularly. I remember how excited I was to see the orange lights on top of his Kenworth from miles away coming down the country road. We couldn’t wait for him to arrive to eat supper with us before he started a big trip “out west”.
I have such fond memories of him. When he gave me my first guitar, I stuck it in the back of the closet and asked for a saxophone instead. Spoiled rotten? Yes! Granny always said they made more payments on guitars than on trucks, and they owned a trucking company! But Gramp loved his guitars. His favorite was a 1957 Les Paul but all I noticed as a kid was the purple velvet case (My favorite color). I recently found a vintage J200 Gibson that I know he would have loved. He must have been smiling down when I found that gem!
I dedicated my first album Gone Fishin’ to my Gramp, and I am so proud of the song Wyatt Easterling and I wrote for him. “West with the Night” is a melancholy ballad that depicts my “cowboy gentleman” to a T. I’m so proud to sing it, and have such vivid memories of him in my mind to share with the world. I hope this touches the hearts of my listeners reminding them of days gone by and memories we all hold dear about our loved ones.
West With The Night
He flew an old airplane and could land on a dime
A long haul trucker most of the time
He wore pearl snap shirts, a white Stetson hat
He was a maverick and a saint
He’d come flying in Sunday’s and circle the house
All of us kids would come scrambling out
We’d run to the field and watch him sailing in
Oh the stories ‘n the trinkets from the places he’d been
Then it was up to the clouds and away he would go
Or kicking up dust in his truck down the road
Coming or going he was always a sight
Riding into the sunset…West with the Night
A flat top Gibson never far from his side
A black saddle with silver whenever he’d ride
You could say that Gramps was one of a kind
The silent type ‘til he spoke his mind
Then it was up to the clouds and away he would go
Or kicking up dust in his truck down the road
Coming or going he was always a sight
Riding into the sunset…West with the Night
He stood ten feet tall in everyone’s eyes
A cowboy gentleman – his way of life
Then it was up to the clouds and away he would go
Or kicking up dust in his truck down the road
Coming or going he was always a sight
Riding into the sunset… West with the Night
A great tribute to my Dad also known as Gramps to his grandchildren…we all miss him as he really was a kind, caring and amazing man