A few years ago I watched a close friend and colleague become trapped in his failing body that finally stopped his heart at the age of 56. We mourned his loss to ALS and wondered why such a good heart lost its beat. Because of his obviously swift decline we knew Dave’s days were numbered on this life plain. His wife was anxious to have me wheel her husband around Frontier Park for a day at the rodeo – Cheyenne Frontier Days – realizing there would not be another opportunity. We rolled into the “ready” area where the rough stock riders hang out. Dave had met bareback riders Kelly Timberman and Scott Montague previously but those young men had not seen him for awhile. He could not really speak. Kelly and Scott’s eyes glistened as they signed Dave’s straw hat. They stayed with us for a trek up to the press deck and posed for pictures with Dave. I went over to the corner and turned to the wall, gulped back a burst of grief, and returned to take Dave to the car.
We drove a short distance to the backyard of our boss, Diane Shober. She was hosting her annual party and Dave was the guest of honor. Earlier in the week she’d asked me if I knew any musicians who might play for the event. Since the gravity of the situation was inescapable I knew of only one person who could handle it with the necessary grace, and talent. Brenn Hill lives in Utah so it’s not like he had to drive from the other side of town. He packed his wife and kids in the car and hauled across Wyoming to sing and play for Dave. There were many tears when we dedicated Brenn’s song “Call You Cowboy” to Dave. A short while later I walked over to Dave, knelt down, looked in his eyes and said “Hey there Cowboy.” From somewhere deep within Dave ushered a discernable “Thank you Chuck.” Dave’s arm is around the back of my head in the picture that leads this column. He passed away a month after that party. Some years have passed but Dave Troyanek’s friendship and Brenn Hill’s act of kindness won’t ever be forgotten. He did not charge for performing for Dave. He announced to the folks gathered there that “any friend of Chuck Coon’s is a friend of mine.” Yesterday Brenn’s manager called from Nashville and gave me some really sad news I want to share in hopes a few of you might be willing – if able – to help the Hill family. Brenn’s son Briggs was diagnosed with brain and spinal cancer last November 11th. A massive brain tumor was removed the next day. He spent more than a month in the hospital and is now home facing numerous treatments and challenges.
If life had given me the privilege of children I’d be more than proud to call Brenn Hill my son. He is a shining example of the Cowboy Creed. He believes God will help his family in this their time of greatest need. It is my hope you might be able to extend your kindness to this wonderfully Western family. My guess is if you are reading this you already know of Brenn’s music. He speaks from his heart. He boldly and publicly touts the heritage of American (and Canadian) agriculture. The three R’s – rodeo, ranching and roundups – are at the forefront of almost all Brenn’s songs. His wife would really like him to consider crooning a love ballad now and then. It is time for us to offer sustenance to this family in need. The amount of your donation doesn’t matter. The thoughts and prayers do. You can click here to find Brenn and help Briggs: www.myspace.com/brennhill and www.teambriggs.org
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