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On March 24, 2006, Buck Owens told his band he was too tired to perform, until a family from Oregon stopped him in the parking lot. For ten years, the 76-year-old pioneer of the Bakersfield Sound had kept a steady routine at his Crystal Palace in Bakersfield, California. Even after throat cancer surgery in 1993, a bout with pneumonia in 1997, and a mild stroke in 2004, he still took the stage almost every Friday and Saturday night with The Buckaroos. That Friday evening, after eating his usual chicken-fried steak dinner at the venue, he felt worn out and told bandleader Jim Shaw he was going home early. As Owens reached his car, a family approached him and said they had driven all the way from Oregon just to see him play live. Owens told them to go inside and find their seats. Moments later, while The Buckaroos were on stage getting ready to announce his absence, Owens appeared in the wings and slipped his red, white, and blue Telecaster over his shoulder. He stayed under the lights for nearly an hour. From the microphone, he told the crowd that if folks could drive all that way from Oregon, the least he could do was stay and sing for them. He worked through “Act Naturally,” “Love’s Gonna Live Here,” and “Tiger by the Tail” before finishing the night with “Big in Vegas.” After taking his bow, Owens drove himself back to his ranch. Around 4:30 the next morning, March 25, 2006, he passed away in his sleep from a heart attack, just hours after turning around in a Bakersfield parking lot so one family would not go home disappointed.

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When Buck Owens opened the doors to his Crystal Palace in October 1996, he had a simple reason for spending two years and millions of dollars building a 550-seat music hall off Highway 99 in Bakersfield: he was tired of the road, and he figured if he built the right room, the fans could come to him instead.

For the next ten years, they came from all over the country, right up to the Friday night of March 24, 2006, when a family from Oregon stopped the 76-year-old singer in his own parking lot just as he was heading home early.

Owens had started construction on the venue in 1994 at 2800 Buck Owens Boulevard, constantly revising the blueprints until the building became part Western dance hall, part steakhouse, and part museum. Inside, he filled glass cases with his tailored Nudie suits, gold records, and vintage guitars, and he hung his white 1972 Pontiac convertible—complete with steer horns and revolvers mounted on the hood—right above the bar. Outside on the property, he later helped rescue and relocate the historic Bakersfield arch that had once spanned Union Avenue.

Rather than treating the hall as a monument to the past, Owens turned it into his regular Friday and Saturday night stage. Alongside keyboardist and bandleader Jim Shaw, who had played in The Buckaroos since 1970, and longtime bassist Doyle Curtsinger, who joined in 1969, Owens kept a weekly schedule that brought the raw, twin-guitar Bakersfield Sound to diners sitting just feet from the bandstand.

Those ten years at the Crystal Palace were not easy on him physically. Owens had already undergone surgery for throat cancer in 1993, and during his decade hosting weekend crowds in Bakersfield, he fought through pneumonia in 1997 and a mild stroke in 2004 that temporarily kept him off the stage.

Even as his voice grew raspier and his doctors advised him to slow down, the weekend sets with The Buckaroos remained the anchor of his week. On most Friday nights, before stepping under the stage lights, he sat down inside the restaurant for his usual dinner of chicken-fried steak, chatting with staff and greeting visitors who had driven down through the Central Valley.

He followed that exact routine on Friday, March 24, 2006. After finishing his meal, however, Owens told Jim Shaw that he felt unusually worn out and did not think he had a show in him that evening. He asked the band to play the set without him and walked out toward the parking lot to drive back to his ranch.

He was near his car when a family walked up and introduced themselves. They told him they had made the long drive down from Oregon for one reason: to see Buck Owens play live at the Crystal Palace.

Owens did not tell them he was sick or ask them to come back another weekend. He simply told the family to head inside and find their seats.

Inside the hall, The Buckaroos were already on stage preparing to tell the audience that their boss had gone home for the night. Before Shaw could make the announcement, Owens walked out into the wings and lifted his trademark red, white, and blue Fender Telecaster over his shoulder.

Addressing the crowd from the microphone, Owens joked about his raspy voice and explained that if people were willing to drive all the way from Oregon to hear him, the least he could do was stay and sing for them.

For nearly an hour, he traded banter with the band and worked through the songs that had put Bakersfield on the map, including “Act Naturally,” “Love’s Gonna Live Here,” and “I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail,” before closing his portion of the night with “Big in Vegas”.

When the set ended, Owens put down his guitar, said goodnight to his bandmates, and drove himself home. Around 4:30 the next morning, March 25, 2006, he died in his sleep from a heart attack. He had built the Crystal Palace so he would never have to travel again, and he spent his last hours on earth turning around in its parking lot so a family of travelers would not have to drive home empty-handed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6-wKFK4sQM

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