Pages: 1 2 3 4 5

Fromholz and Jimmy Buffet.

"You don't work with Stephen, you work for Stephen, and that was very apparent," Fromholz said. "It was his way or the highway so I took the highway. There was a lot of fear around Stills, and I don't deal with fear -- ain't got time for that."

Next, Fromholz hooked up with Michael Nesmith, the former Monkees member who had started his own alt-country label called Countryside, in association with Elektra. They produced Fromholz' first solo album, How Long is the Road to Kentucky, and anticipated a hungry audience and large sales figures. Instead, a management turnover at Elektra ended the association with Countryside, and the album was never released. For Fromholz, it was another lesson about the music business.

At about that time, a music scene was developing in Austin. Rusty Wier and Jerry Jeff Walker were there, and then Nelson showed up in 1972. Fromholz arrived in 1974, shopped his songs, played gigs, and landed a recording deal with a major label, Capitol Records. Finally, his first solo album was released, the thoroughly enjoyable Rumor in My Own Time, which made him a minor star in the national Outlaw explosion. "Texas Trilogy" amazed everyone who heard it, although some radio stations wouldn't play a song that lasted almost 15 minutes. Then Nelson recorded "I'd Have to Be Crazy," and Fromholz had his first commercial hit, even though the song defied the norm with lines such as, "Been days when it pleased me to be on my knees following ants as they crawl 'cross the ground."

"It was too weird for Number 1," he said of the song that sat at Number 2 on the charts for weeks.

The Outlaw scene offered plenty of cocaine and excess but in a different way than Fromholz had found in Manassas. "The Austin scene was crazy but there was lots of love around and we were all friends," he said. "We kind of looked out for each other."

All these years later, they still do.

Worried friends began visiting Fromholz in the hospital within a few days of his stroke. At first, he was tired and distant. But the wily old personality quickly returned. Legendary songwriter Billy Joe Shaver entered the hospital room, unsure what to expect, and was relieved when Fromholz hollered, "Billy Joe, gimme three!" The reference was to Shaver's right hand, which is missing two fingers.

"He was up and moving and kicking and joking with the nurses," Shaver said. "He's tough. He was already up and exercising and trying to get himself well."

After a nine-day hospital stay, Fromholz went home to Sugar Land. He had an adverse reaction to some medicine, which caused excessive itching and scratching. He took it in stride, and, as usual, made it into a joke. When he was scratching and staring at the sky one day, his sister asked what he was looking at. Fromholz, wondering how many things could go wrong at one time, said, "I'm just waiting for the locusts."

As the weeks roll by, his motor skills continue to return. His days are filled with rehabilitation and rest. He rises at 10, eats a healthy breakfast with juice, Cheerios, and muffins. He responds to e-mails and runs errands. Playing guitar and talking are important elements of his rehab process. A long walk follows an afternoon nap. "The only real hard part has been the talking, you know, not getting in a hurry, pronouncing the words and getting them right," he said. "The physical stuff came back pretty quickly. I was real lucky, blessed by God almighty."

He makes regular trips to the VA hospital in Houston, and his time there has given him a new cause. He praises the doctors and the care he receives, but he has been concerned and touched by the plight of many disabled veterans.

"The VA does the best they can, but a lot of those guys have nothing, including legs," he said. "They deserve better; they deserve not to be forgotten. A lot of those guys gave all they could and more than they should have. They deserve help, and I'd like to bring some kind of consciousness into that. Some of those guys got no place to go and they'll be there until they die and they are ignored. I'd like to do concerts and raise money and take it there and give it to the guys individually, and say, 'Here's some money for you.' The VA doesn't give them spending money, and a lot of these guys are destitute."

He has tentative plans to return to the stage in limited engagements beginning in mid-August. He and Taylor will perform in Stephenville on Sept. 28, and he'll perform a set on Oct. 9 at Tommy Alverson's Family Gathering in Glen Rose. The following day he'll open for Willie Nelson at Beaumont Ranch. Until the August gig, he'll continue to rehab, recuperate, and pray that his stage debut will satisfy his fans and himself. Contemplating his return, Fromholz' conversation reveals many of the emotions he is feeling -- confidence, hope, doubt, and fear.

"I'll be back by then I think," he said. "If I don't feel sure, I won't go. I'm not going to embarrass myself by getting up in front of a bunch of folks and not being there. I've been here too long. I'll come back 100 percent, but that guy that was there before is gone. It's a total rebuilding process.

"Your ego, entertaining, getting up and working a stage -- it's confidence. It's always been very easy for me and now it's not. It's hard. And kind of scary," he said. "It's going to be different than it was -- I know that -- because I am different.

"A stroke will give you pause. It's a matter of getting back on the bicycle after a bad wreck. This was a bad wreck, but I feel like I'll come back and play again. I want to. But only time will tell, and that's a fact."

Surely there's a song or six in all of that, for the new version of Steve Fromholz.

« BACK

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5