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Jay Milner, Dallas club owner Geno McCoslin, and Willie Nelson at Milner's 1973 birthday party.
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Nelson came to the rescue, offering Milner occasional jobs. Milner became the entertainer's unofficial publicist and designed and wrote concert programs when Nelson began holding annual Fourth of July picnics. "We just got to be friends," Milner said. "Next thing I know I was doing the programs. He would call up and say, 'You ready for a payday?' "

His alliance with Nelson meant more partying and long stays in Austin. During those stays he began sharing a rented house in downtown Austin with Susan Streit, another West Texan who had moved to Austin to work for a state senator. One night, a well-oiled Jerry Jeff Walker came busting into the house, telling Milner he wanted to use their piano to work on a song. Susan was just getting out of the shower, and she had a towel wrapped around her. "He looked at her and said, 'My God, you look like an angel,'" Milner said. Walker was an ornery, hard-drinking roustabout -- wild even by Maddog standards. He would later marry Susan. Ironically, the crazed Walker eventually became the best husband and father of all the Maddogs, Milner said.

Susan Walker, who would be "best person" at Jay and Gail Milner's wedding years later, recalled those days of rooming with Milner as heady and strenuous. "Willie slept many nights on the couch; he and Jay were good buds at that time," she said. "Those were wonderful, wonderful days and nights. Every singer-songwriter that came to town ended up at that house on Ninth and Rio Grande (streets). Talk about some great guitar pulls."

Ever since Milner was a boy, he had risen early in the morning. He could never break that habit, even when he was partying all night, and so he would go long periods with little sleep. "I remember him always coming back from Austin and collapsing for a week," said Carter Milner, now 42 and living in Arlington. "He was up 24 hours a day when he was hanging out with people down there, and he was wiped out when he would come back to Fort Worth."

Carter Milner's popularity soared in high school when word spread that her dad was a friend of Nelson, who was becoming a folk hero to area youths. "I'd grown up with my dad, and it was normal to have famous authors around," she said. "But when he got into the Willie stuff, it was really cool. I remember I had a lot of boyfriends all of a sudden."

Backstage doors were open to Carter and her friends. "I'd be there with all my friends and Willie would say, 'Hi Carter,' and my friends would go, 'Ahhhh,' " she said. Her father limited her access. "I kept her away from all those pickers," Jay Milner said. "I didn't want her involved."

Milner had been approaching collapse before he met Nelson. By 1976, he was barely hanging onto his sanity when Nelson and a mutual acquaintance came up with an idea -- put on a concert, raise money, and start a magazine focusing on progressive country music. They chose Milner to write and edit the magazine, and they would all be stockholders.

A depleted Milner tried to pass, but didn't want to disappoint Nelson. The Texas Music Magazine Concert, featuring Nelson, Walker, Wier, Steve Fromholz and others, was held at SMU and raised more than $60,000. Milner stocked up on diet pills, wrote the magazine without an editorial staff, sold ads, and did most everything himself.

A crash loomed.


He was afraid to contemplate his future and the prospect of reflecting on the past was horrendous. With his yesterdays and tomorrows unthinkable, he managed to sustain himself in the Now any way he could, chemicals and sex being his best bets so far. ... He had tried, several times, to let go, to slip on down into madness, figuring he would then at least be cared for and no longer pushed. ... But he had not been able to let go. ... No, he clung to his sanity like an exhausted mountain climber clinging to a crumbling crevice in the rock, fingers bleeding but still hanging on.

-- From an unpublished novel


Texas Music's first cover featured longhaired and grizzled Willie Nelson and sold well. The stars got plenty of press, but so did more obscure artists, such as Billy Joe Shaver and Guy Clark. The monthly magazine was a hit, and artists were eager to be featured. Susan Walker recalled traveling to Los Angeles during that time and seeing the magazine "on every coffee table." Jerry Jeff Walker was on the second cover and Fromholz on the third.

A fourth issue would never hit the streets.

Milner was on a shoestring budget and paid a small wage to a young woman to assist in the office. When Hank Williams' widow, Audrey, submitted a story written in longhand, Milner asked his assistant to type it for him. The woman rewrote the story, adding many of her own fantasized anecdotes unbeknownst to Milner. Audrey Williams was outraged when the story appeared. "She nearly sued us," Milner said. "It turned out the secretary was stoned. She was nice and I liked her, but I don't know where she came up with all that stuff she put in that story."

Fort Worth businessman and rancher Steve Murrin offered Milner free office space in the Stockyards, and Milner returned the favor by getting Nelson to hold a benefit concert to raise money for the Stockyards. Milner wrote stories under different names to obscure the fact that he was the magazine's sole staff writer.

Milner was never a savvy businessman and could barely handle his personal finances, so the mutual friend who initially pitched the magazine idea was put in charge of accounting. Checks written on the magazine's account soon began to mysteriously bounce. A fourth issue, featuring soulful singer Tracy Nelson on the cover, had been printed, but the printer was threatening to destroy all copies unless payment was received.

The bank confirmed the obvious -- Texas Music had a zero balance. The friend and the money were gone. An embarrassed Milner called Nelson to explain, but Nelson shrugged and said they would hold another concert, raise money, pay off the magazine's debts, and get back on track. But Milner balked. He was exhausted. He was also angered by their friend's apparent theft of the magazine's money and asked Nelson whether they should file criminal charges. Nelson had been robbed many times by conmen, promoters, acquaintances, and hangers-on. "They got families to feed, too," was Nelson's stock reply. No charges were filed. NEXT »

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