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The Cowboy And His Guitar (standard:westerns, 1839 words)
Author: Joan (Michalke) RitcheyAdded: Jun 25 2008Views/Reads: 3348/2456Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
About a Cowboy and his guitar. The song he wrote and a surprise ending.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

facing two six-foot plus police officers (they estimated to be) in 
their early twenties.  Officer Ted Marsh introduced himself and his 
partner, John Case and then said, “Mr. & Mrs. Hobson, we are sorry to 
have to tell you that your son Jerry has been in a fatal auto accident 
in Colorado.”  Neither Jeffrey nor Pamela Hobson was coherent enough to 
hear or understand the next messages put to them by Officer Marsh.  
There was a ringing in their ears and the room began to spin.  It 
seemed as though they were in a fog, both of them experiencing the same 
reaction as the officer continued -- “he probably didn't see the 
semi-truck coming when he crossed over the yellow line into its path.  
His car was totaled.  We understand his belongings in the trunk were 
taken to the local police station.  They will be returned to you.”  
Officer Case reached to grab the arm of Pamela Hobson as she began to 
fall.  He led her to the couch while Officer Marsh stood beside Jeffrey 
Hobson.  Officer Case asked if there was someone they could call, but 
they shook their heads in unison. 

A silence filled the room and then the parents, holding tightly to each
other, began sobbing uncontrollably.  The officers stayed with them for 
another twenty minutes and then, the two strapping policemen, with 
downcast eyes and slumping shoulders, let themselves out the front 
door.  They made it to their police car as the tears spilled over onto 
their checks.  They were remembering football and baseball games, 
school dances and talent show assemblies with their fellow classmate, 
Jerry. 

The tic-tock, tic-tock, tic-tock of the clock on the mantel sounded
louder than normal and the minutes that followed seemed like hours 
before Jeffrey Hobson became cognizant enough to remember -- Jerry's 
two partners were set to leave on the 7:00 pm plane out of the Portland 
Airport for Nashville, Tennessee.  He reached for the phone and dialed 
the home of Larry Colson.  There was a silence on the other end of the 
line after Jeffrey Hobson related the tragic news.  Larry said, “Mr. 
Hobson, I'll go by and pick up Steve and the two of us will come over 
right away!” 

Jeffrey and Pamela Hobson, in their late 50's, dressed and put on a pot
of coffee.  Food was no option. 

Larry and Steve arrived fifteen minutes later.  They had decided on the
drive over that they wanted to help.  They wanted to escort the body of 
their friend back to Lincoln City from Colorado.  The Hobson's were 
thankful for their offer.  Steve took over and made the phone call to 
the airport.   They could catch an emergency flight at 1:00 pm that 
afternoon to Denver.  The accident had occurred just north of the city 
in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.  Officer Marsh had left his 
card with the Hobson's, so Steve called and asked his help in getting 
in touch with the authorities in Colorado to prepare the necessary 
paperwork for the return to Portland.  The officer also arranged for a 
hearse to meet them in Portland and transport the three of them to 
Lincoln City.  Everything went as planned.   They arrived at the Hobson 
home the following afternoon, after having escorted Jerry's coffin to 
the local mortuary. 

Together with Larry and Steve, the Hobson's planned the memorial service
for their son, Jerry and early the following morning all of Jerry's 
belongings were delivered to the Hobson home -- among them, Jerry's 
unscratched case and Alvarez guitar. 

The memorial service was held in the auditorium Jerry's high school.  An
onstage video screen told the story through family photographs of 
Jerry's youth.  The service ended with a DVD of the three boys playing 
at their concert held in Portland, just eight months prior. 

The Hobson's had a tough time living in their home in Lincoln City after
the death of their son.  They left his room unchanged, an open guitar 
case displaying his Alvarez sat on the comforter in the middle of his 
bed. 

Two years later, they moved from Lincoln City.  Pamela Hobson had a
sister and her husband, their two daughters and two sons living in 
Flagstaff, Arizona.  They made the move to Flagstaff to be near their 
teenage nieces and nephews. 

Shortly after their move, a fire broke out in the nearby forested area. 
One of the homes was completely destroyed, including the contents.  A 
newspaper article related the story of the 20-year old son of Mr. & 
Mrs. Jackson and how he entered the burning home to retrieve their pet 
German Shepard dog.  After making sure Max was safe, the boy re-entered 
the home to get his guitar.  The room was engulfed in flames.  The 
guitar already burned beyond repair.  A fireman entered the home and 
helped the coughing boy from the burning house.  Robert Jackson was 
taken to the hospital with burns over twenty percent of his body. 

When the Hobson's read the article, they knew what Jerry would have
wished.  Mounting the stairs to the hospital and taking the elevator up 
to the fourth floor, they approached Room #4106.  Mr. and Mrs. Jackson 
were at the bedside of their son Bobby, who was covered with gauze 
bandages.  Luckily his face had managed to sustain only a few small 
burns.  The Hobson's told the story of their son and his success with 
his small western band and how proud they were of him and his talent.  
“It would be our pleasure if you would accept this Alvarez guitar, in 
memory of our son, Jerry”, said Jeffrey Hobson.  He opened the guitar 
case that had been sealed shut for the past several years, revealing 
the beautiful Alvarez.   For an instant the aroma of the rosewood and 
Western cedar replaced the pungent antiseptic hospital and burned skin 
smells.  A tear-streaked Bobby thanked the Hobson's.  The two mothers 
hugged each other as the fathers shook hands.  Then, Jeffrey and Pamela 
left the room and made their way out of the hospital, smiling through 
their tears. 

While on a trip to Branson, Missouri, a couple years later, the Hobson's
attended an on-stage variety show.  The show featured guest appearances 
by some of the more popular western singers of that year. 

The finale to the show was introduced to the audience as “a newcomer to
the country music scene”.  Please, the emcee said, “put your hands 
together for our surprise guest singer, Bobby Jackson”.  The Hobson's 
could not believe their eyes when Bobby appeared on stage carrying the 
Alvarez guitar. 

Wearing a cowboy hat and boots, feeling at home in his Wrangler jeans
and western shirt, Bobby Jackson took the stage, unaware that the 
Hobson's were in the audience.  Taking the mike, he explained that he 
had intended to sing one of the songs from his newly released CD, but 
last evening while rehearsing, a song kept playing over and over in his 
mind.  I call it, “A Happy Cowboy”.  He attached his Alvarez Guitar to 
his shoulder strap and played: 

I am a happy cowboy. 

I love to rope and ride. 

I carry with me always, 

My guitar by my side. 

I am a happy cowboy. 

Nothing would I change. 

With my guitar and my song . . . 

I'm in Heaven on the range. 


   


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