“My Pappy said, ‘Son, you’re gonna drive me to drinkin’, if you don’t quit drivin’ that Hot Rod Lincoln.’”
Remembering a rockabilly icon Doug Clark, Columnist
When a cowboy dies (and I’m talking about real-deal cowboys, here) it’s customary to paint a romanticized picture of the deceased cowpoke riding slowly off into the sunset astride a cherished pony. Not Charlie Ryan. In my mind he’s sitting behind the wheel of a souped-up, candy apple red Lincoln-powered Model A. There’s a white Stetson covering his head and a grin on his face. He’s got the pedal to the metal, too, burnin’ rubber all the way to those Pearly Gates.
That’s the way Charlie would have us remember him, too. The soft-spoken Spokane man who gave the world one of the best car songs ever written – “Hot Rod Lincoln” – passed away peacefully Saturday after a long struggle with heart failure. - story
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