Merle Haggard: Our Valley has lost its truest voice

The Bee eulogized Merle Haggard with a well-done piece from the Bakersfield Californian after he died Wednesday – his 79th birthday. We weren’t alone. Newspapers and magazines from the Nashville Tennessean to The New York Times to Rolling Stone did similar stories, recalling a man who changed country music, gave it an edge and gave voice to the misery, joys and frustrations of the “working man.”

All mentioned his hardscrabble life in Bakersfield, living in a converted boxcar, growing up without a dad, his scrapes with the law. None mentioned our corner of the Valley. They should have.

Two decades ago, The Bee’s Roger Hoskins got to know Haggard well, collecting stories, anecdotes and insights from the singer’s many summers spent in Riverbank, Hughson, Modesto – all around here. They talked about Haggard’s renegade politics, his thoughts on legalizing marijuana, spirituality and life on the road. Rereading Hoskins’ stories, it was no surprise that Haggard asked to live out his last few days aboard his tour bus.

Haggard talked a lot about Stanislaus County. He recounted bucking hay in Hughson nearly every summer. He spoke of following the fruit crops each harvest season.

“Swamping grapes,” he said, was the hardest work. “Each cutter had a lug (or box) he’d drop the grapes in. I’d wade into the sand to pick up the box, wade through the sand to carry it to the truck. Then I’d wade back for more. If you swamped grapes, you knew the meaning of work.”

He told Hoskins: “I love Modesto and Riverbank. It’s my childhood. From the time I was 9, when my father died, my mom would follow the fruit for work. I would spend every summer in Riverbank with a wonderful aunt and uncle, Aunt Willie and Uncle Escar. I learned to milk cows here and pick peaches and cut grapes.”

In his early teens, Haggard would hop a freight train on a whim and ride it north just for a visit. Then he’d go to the “Riverbank Clubhouse” to hear The Maddox Brothers and Rose. “They were billed as the most colorful band in the world. They dressed so outlandish, flashy and sequins and all. It was more like rock ’n’ roll than country.”

Norman Burke became a lifelong friend, and his sister a sweetheart. “(Norman) was like a brother to me. We had great times together,” said Haggard, who recalled fishing at (old) Melones, Exchequer Lake, down along Dry Creek and on the Stanislaus River.

Burke couldn’t forget, either: “I just loved it when he showed up to visit my sister Lillian. It was not with my mom’s best wishes. Mom would worry about Flossie (Merle’s mother). She’d want to … send him back to Bakersfield, but my dad would get out his guitar. He’d say ‘Naw, let’s play some music.’ ”

As a guitar player, he’d go into Modesto bars where, if he hadn’t been with the band, he wouldn’t have been allowed through the door. Haggard’s first paid gig was on Crows Landing Road.

Always, there was music. “I just loved to listen to Chester Smith and KLOC and KTRB,” Haggard said.

As he was becoming famous, as the 38 No. 1 hits started hitting the charts, the Grammys and CMA awards started accumulating, Haggard never forgot. He returned frequently, even writing a song about a woman he met in a Modesto bar. He played for the Ceres High Booster Club in 1972, the county fair in 1980 and 1986. Sometimes he’d adjourn to a nearby bar and the show would go on. He played at Stanislaus State, the State Theater, at Oakwood Lake, at Centre Plaza and the Gallo Center. He kept coming back.

Why? Because this was his home almost as much as Bakersfield. It flavored his life; it helped shape his music.

Like the rest of the nation, we will miss his voice. A voice we recognize as one of our own.

This story was originally published April 9, 2016 at 5:31 AM with the headline "Merle Haggard: Our Valley has lost its truest voice."