So one thing that music does for me is give me a platform to tell my story and express my emotions....
I'm a firm believer that everyone has a story to tell...and I've always wanted the platform to be able to give to others so that they may be able to share their stories/share their poems/randomly spurt out thoughts/type jibberish all with the theme of OVERCOMING and PERSERVERANCE :) ain't nothing like an inspirational story!
SO without furthur adu, I would like to open the floor up to a close friend of mine, Erin Lawler:
My brother, Craig, was always a bit of an old soul. While most guys his age listened to Nirvana or Stone Temple Pilots, he was jamming to Coltrane, Clapton, and Charlie Parker. His instrument of choice: a harmonica. I was late in my teens when I first realized his penchant for this overlooked instrument. My sisters and I confronted him one evening after seeing him driving around our small, Oklahoma college town with something held to his mouth. Believing he was smoking, we staged an ‘intervention’ fearing for his lung capacity and health. (In college and living off-campus, he could have picked up any ol’ bad habit. Habit, yes, but never did we suspect). Thoroughly annoyed with our concern, he exclaimed with a tone as if it should have been obvious, “I was playing my harmonica!”
So began our introduction and intimate ‘conversation’ with the harmonica (or “harp” as he called it) and its ‘melodious’ music. Craig wasn’t a born musical prodigy, but he had the will and the desire to master the harp and to truly feel the music. He was seldom without his harmonicas (plural) or the desire to discuss the latest chords he was learning and “check this out” opportunities complete with his distinct eye-widening/stare and tap of his toe as he demoed. The bang of his harmonica on his thigh to clear the spit became as generic and expected as breathing. Though the sisters and I weren’t overtly impressed, deep down inside we were. Our expressions were a mixture of “are you effing serious?” and “hey, that’s neat!” Regardless, he persisted.
In truth, he had been quietly studying under one of the local legends in blues music and harmonica playing – Watermelon Slim – and was excelling rapidly. Not fully appreciating where this was going for him, the sisters and I would plead for less cacophony with Craig’s “kazoo” when he was practicing his scales or at least for him to take a break and free up the bathroom (good acoustics, apparently).
As time passed and the siblings moved to separate states/countries, what was once an annoyance became a hallmark of our get togethers. Spontaneous sing-alongs and happy birthday songs were not complete if not accompanied by his harmonica. My sisters and I would often see him coming back from a walk with that mysterious “something” held close to his mouth. We’d smile or roll our eyes lovingly; no longer was the first assumption smoking. After many years of frustration, practice and commitment to improvement – his music was no longer cacophonous but melodic,
confident, purposeful. He was a harmonica player.
In Denver where he lived, he refined his art while practicing law. He was called “The Blues Lawyer", though more a bluesman at heart than a lawyer. He was as generous in his profession as in his passion, taking on pro-bono cases while also frequenting local blues bars for the latest scene. It wasn’t long before he landed a regular gig with jammers and recorded a demo CD from one of their jam sessions. Friends, colleagues and his lucky sisters “in for the weekend” would experience his performances – a man seemingly unassuming and laid back, now commanding attention with his harmonica and voice.
That was Craig: half part talent, half part personality and altogether a little over the top. Watermelon Slim, Craig’s mentor and now award-winning blues musician had this to say: "Craig, is as you say a terrific young man, and is my greatest student on the harp. [He] met me and the band at a gig we do once in awhile... He showed me some of what Jason Ricci had shown him about overblowing, making a diatonic harp into a chromatic one. I couldn’t play a note of it, and threw my good hat. The student had outrun the professor, and in a fraction of the time it took me... But that’s just what a brilliant fellow Craig is. I will be playing a rare gig tonight, and I will be dedicating it to him. We talked about getting him down to the BMA Awards ceremony May 8, where I’m nominated for a bunch of awards. If I have to, I will fly him in myself…”
I may never truly understand, but, through the three of them – ‘Slim, Ricci, and Craig, I do. For Craig, years of work; years of passion; perhaps a seemingly unnatural talent to one remarked upon by one of the greatest; perhaps not knowing one’s circle of influence. If you were to Google either Watermelon Slim or Jason Nicci’s names together with Craig’s, you might find tour dates, award accolades, tributes, or dedications. You might also feel that I’m bragging of my brother. I am.
Craig died of metastatic kidney cancer 2 years ago at the young age of 32, three short months after my mother died of brain cancer at the young age of 65. His battle was 7 months; hers 11. (See www.thelawlerfamily.org for more information on their lives/fight). I’d like to think that his musical ambition and pizzazz came, in part, from my mom's ever quick with an off-pitch song and dippy hip shake disposition. Through each of their battles, music, imagination, humor, “art”, and the zest for life was alive and present – even when diaphragms weakened, lung capacities lessened and passions were more entertained in thought rather than in action. My sisters and I would sing randomly and off-key to both of them—my mom had greater appreciation for our “art”. She’d stare, smiling, either memorized at our love for her or our profound ability to butcher a song (she taught us well). Craig was always, at first, a critical audience stating “all ya’al are off key” before finally joining in himself. Guess he finally got the point. It’s more for the heart than it is for the ears.
Though too sick to travel, Craig was alive to hear Slim win his Blues Music Foundation BMA awards and to receive the album Slim dedicated to him. And he was alive to experience a tribute concert from his profoundly talented idol, Jason Ricci, who titled a song after Craig, “Holler for Craig Lawler”. Craig was also alive to experience the passing of our mom, Mary, a dynamic, loving and accomplished woman who found her way to the computer to research cures for his cancer before hers. Like my mom, Craig may have never known or considered his “realm of influence” in life, or may have considered it small. Both were vast and meaningful; fortunately, they were able to bare witness before passing. Craig’s realm – for an unassuming and kind
harmonica playing blues lawyer from Oklahoma – reached around the world.
Craig was never a "signed artist", but he lived his life artfully.
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| Along with the harmonica, Craig also played the guitar |
Perhaps this is a charge to all.
...to focus not on what will become,
but on becoming.
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Thank you SO MUCH to Erin and her family for allowing me the opportunity to share their story and their brother Craig's artistry YOU ALL are APPRECIATED :) much LOVE much RESPECT and much SUPPORT! This story is truly an inspiration, wish you all the absolute BEST in your endevours and may God bless you and your family as you continue to carry on the legacy, your strength is admirable!
God Bless,
Reesa Renee
