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The first memory I have of hanging out with my uncle's band (which I’m sure had a name, but I just thought of them as the band) was the night before Super Bowl I.

They were playing the Elks club in our hometown of Pueblo, Colorado. I remember helping pack up the car, guitars, amps, and other assorted stuff that I knew very little about at the time (PA systems, microphones, cables), all that roadie stuff that you find out later is the tough part of the music business. But when you’re like, 9 years old, you don’t think about that. If you have to pick up an amp, you just pick it up. Later, you think, man, if I have to pick up one more amp…….

During one of the band breaks that night, my uncle (officially Cloys, but Billy to me) turned on his amp (probably down to 1 or 2) and let me play around on his Chet Atkins Gretsch®. I knew a chord or two and I played them both for the whole break. I was hooked. I remember people sitting watching me probably sound awful, but I thought, “this is just really fun…” Didn’t seem like it was work at all.

They did both kinds of music that were popular at the Elks and Eagles lodges and VFW posts (country and western). Uncle Billy was one of the best guitar players I think I’ve ever heard. He knew the secret (when you should play, and when you shouldn’t play) and of course, when you do play, give it everything you’ve got.

That got me hooked to point that I just had to have a guitar so I could play, which my parents graciously spent some hard earned cash on. Then came the lessons…..which promptly made me decide I really didn’t want to do this after all. I had (and still have) the discipline of a 7-week-old puppy and lessons just seemed to get in the way of playing songs.

If I only knew then what I know now. So, for about 2 years the guitar went in the closet. I’d still go hang out with my Uncle's band on occasion, play a song or two during the breaks, dance (though no one would believe that now) and generally have a good time with them. Still thinking, this could be fun, if it wasn’t for the lessons and learning and stuff.

I think I was about 12 when I decided to pick up the guitar again. I bought a Mel Bay chord book (which I think I still have) and started learning chords. It’s now 1968 or 1969 and you’ve just GOT to have an acoustic guitar. The electric I had was replaced with a really cheap, but really cool looking acoustic and I started playing every chord in the book. I wrote my first song at 12 or 13. It was bloody awful, I can still play it, but I won’t.

My best friend (still today), Chuck Kattnig and I decided we’d be the next CSN and started writing songs together and learning the songs of the day, CCR, America, Simon and Garfunkel etc. We thought we were pretty good until someone asked us to play at a party they were having. Everyone ended up in another room away from the musicians. Can’t say that I blame them.

But, I persisted. Kept going to my uncle’s gigs, playing during the breaks, even got to play a song with the whole band every now and again. One of my favorite memories was a high school dance that hired the band to play. It was way down on the Colorado and New Mexico border. When the two types of music that the band knew weren’t going over too well, my uncle asked if I’d play a few songs with the band that might be more recognizable to the audience.

So, let’s see, the band knew Bad Moon Risin’ and Wipeout and Who’ll Stop the Rain and After Midnight and so did I. So we played the hell out of those four songs until people started dancing and having a good time. Then the real band came back and did a whole bunch of upbeat stuff and kept the audience dancing the rest of the night.

I remember sharing a drink of whiskey with the band at the end of the night (OK, I was under age, don’t tell anyone). We toasted our good fortune that the night didn’t turn out as bad as it started. Then a four-hour drive back home, starting at 1 a.m. and unload the truck and get to bed at 7 a.m. and sleep all day. This was not a bad life at all.

But, life goes on and I went off to college and while I kept playing and writing, I wasn’t doing much with any of it. I wrote a song called Colorado Line when I was 18 or 19 and on a trip back home went to visit my uncle and played it for him. He got out his guitar and as I remember it, my cousin (his daughter) Sherry got her bass and we played the song a few times together.

It is, as well as I remember, the only song of mine that my uncle ever played with me. I remember him saying that he “never expected to hear a song like that from me.” He actually liked it. It just made me want to do more and get better.

I have done much with music since then; had lots of really good experiences, played with top-notch players, played in coveted venues, but none matches that evening in my uncle’s living room.

He did not live much longer after that, but my music still has its roots there in that country and western Elks lodge band and especially its lead guitar player that I wish I’d have learned more from.

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