An older man in a brown jacket smiles while holding a guitar. Text on the image reads "Glen Campbell Adiós" against a green, leafy background.

A year later, Galveston still remembers Glen Campbell


By Forest Riggs

There are songs and then there are songs. With time and popularity, some become iconic and an integral part of popular culture. When young songwriter Jimmy Webb penned “Galvestonâ€, he never dreamed that it would become a hit for one of his boyhood idols, Glen Campbell, and a song that would someday be listed in Billboard magazine’s top 100 songs of all times. Due to the overwhelming response when the song was released on Campbell’s 1969 album, it was destined for greatness and would become the official anthem of the city for which the lyrics recognize and vividly call to mind, Galveston Island.

Glen Travis Campbell, born April 22, 1936, was the seventh son in a sharecropping family of 12 children. Poor and with only their strong faith in God and a love for music,  John Wesley and Carrie Dell Campbell had no idea that their seventh son would become so famous and someday be considered a national treasure. In 1930s’ southwest Arkansas, it was hard to see beyond red dust and rows of cotton waiting to be picked. The family loved music, as did most during that time, so it was not uncommon to gather and sing, especially hymns, as Daddy Campbell was also a Baptist preacher. When his nephew was around age eight, an uncle gave the young Campbell a guitar and, as they say, the rest is history.

Webb, a prolific songwriter, had already written several songs that became huge hits—long before he connected with idol Glen Campbell. Friends connected him to Campbell, who had already made a name for himself in solo recordings and work with several bands including the Beach Boys. Webb and Campbell were very different and did not always see eye-to-eye; there were many disagreements and ideas about lyrics and how a particular song should be sung. Even with “Galvestonâ€, Campbell insisted on changing some words and adding his own style to the song.

The song over the years has not been without controversy. Released during the Vietnam era and into an America riddled with protests and demonstrations, it quickly became an anti-Vietnam protest song. The lyrics describe a young man, having left his beloved Galveston for battle, reminisces about his home and the beautiful girl he left behind. He longs for his Galveston, the sea waves crashing, birds in the sun and his dark-haired love. All this while the “cannons are flashing†around him. There has been great discussion about the story of the song since its 1969 release. A long-running myth, states the song is not about Vietnam at all, but rather the Spanish-American war in 1898. Webb himself let this belief almost become fact; however in the last decade or so, he has clarified it was definitely written with the Vietnam “war†in mind. A young man, leaving everything to go fight in a strange land, only clinging to his memory of home and a girl. Webb says the word “cannons†led many to place the time way before the late 1960s and modern warfare. He insists in recent interviews it was not a protest song, just a song about what it says: home, love and being far away. Regardless of the battle, the poignant ballad struck home with Americans in the turmoil of an unwanted battle in foreign lands. It was a hit.

I cannot say that at 12 or 13 that I was oblivious to Vietnam; it was everywhere. Nightly the news gave grave statistics and even the loss of a cousin, made it real and closer to home. That summer, my Galveston summer, was filled with salty sunburns, fishing and riding my spider bike with a banana seat along the Seawall and darting under the arches at Hill’s Seafood (now Saltgrass Steak House). Those days and nights were magical for me, a kid staying with his grandparents in a big, old house on P½ Street. To this day, Galveston reminds me of those days of freedom, fun and my adventures on the beautiful island I loved.

Glen Campbell was America’s handsome, baby-faced boy and he was all over the music charts, television and movie screens, hit after hit. I think for us southeastern Texans and Galvestonians, the song became more than just a song on the radio. To this day, it transcends time and evokes feelings and memories trapped in an era of confusion and self-exploration, coupled with sunshine and waves.

A million-dollar moment

In the early 1970s, me and my girlfriend Connie (yes, “girlfriend!†It was long ago) went on an adventure. My family had a huge farm just outside Prescott, Arkansas and I had a new, 1970 Ford pickup with a gun rack! I spent most holidays and summers deer hunting, planting or hauling hay in Prescott, at the farm. One day I asked Connie if she’d like to go look for Glen Campbell in Delight, over in Pike County. His family home and his father’s little Baptist church was actually in a small community called Billstown, just outside Delight on a red dirt road. Connie and I arrived in the little town, in front of a small, white church with a sign, “Rev. J.W. Campbell, Pastor†hanging from a post in front of the door. Eureka! We had found the Campbells.

Across the street was an old, white, farmhouse with several teenagers hanging around out front. Within a few seconds, they walked over to my blue truck. “Hi…what y’all doin’ out here?†they asked.

“We are looking for Glen Campbell. Read he was from here,†I said.

“Well, he is and we are all his cousins—first cousins,†they replied.

I told them we were from Texas, down near Galveston and always wanted to meet Glen Campbell and talk about the song “Galvestonâ€.

“Glen ain’t here now, but his momma a daddy are. Wanna meet ’em?†one of the teenagers asked.

“You bet!†We said. “Wow!â€

In a few minutes I was inside a kitchen that smelled of pears being canned and shaking the damp hands of Carrie Dell and Rev. Campbell. They were excited that someone from Galveston had “come all this way just to meet us.â€

It was a million-dollar moment. Rev. Campbell said he was working on something “out back†but we were welcome to stay there in the kitchen. Looking like a cross between an apple doll and her son Glen, Carried Dell was so warm and loving—you could just feel it. She asked about Galveston, what it was like and if there were really dolphins that “jumped along the ferry.â€

I did my best to “represent†and the visit was spectacular. The cousins—Virgil in particular, who looked like a studly Lil ’Abner—was very interested in our life and life outside “this dumb country town.†We all clicked and remained “pen-pals†for many years after.

I asked Carrie Dell about her son and how she felt about all the mess and headlines that reported his entanglements with Bobby Gentry, Tanya Tucker, drugs, etc. She just smiled and with sparkling eyes said, “My boy knows God and God knows him; he’ll be fine.â€

We spent several hours with the Campbell Clan and treasured every minute of it. Later, I would see Glen Campbell in some movie or hear a song on the radio and smile in my heart, knowing that his sweet mamma and I, in a kitchen filled with the aroma of cooking pears, had spent time together and hugged upon parting as if were one of her own.

The final farewell

Campbell’s career was monumental, spanning over 50 years with 70 albums, 45 million records sold and numerous awards and recognitions. He crossed all genres of the entertainment industry.

In the end, it was the black envelope of Alzheimer’s that took out the Arkansas troubadour, a battle he made public in 2012. The world watched as the cotton-picker from Delight, slowly faded away. With his loving family at his side, he went on tour, sang his songs, at times forgot his family, was lost, but never missed a beat with his guitar or songs. It was his internal language. On July 12, 2012, on his farewell tour, Campbell stood on the stage of Galveston’s 1894 Grand Opera House and brought the crowd to tears with “Galvestonâ€, for the last time.

Leaving a huge legacy in music and film work, the dimpled, pretty boy from Delight, Arkansas will live on for the ages. “Galveston†will always conjure its strong feelings and impassioned memories for all that knew it, lived it and loved it.

Thank you, Mr. Campbell. I hope you always hear the “sea waves crashing.â€

Forest Riggs, a resident of Galveston is no stranger to the adventures of life. A former educator and business owner, he enjoys Island life and all that comes with it. He says he is a “raconteur with a quixotic, gypsy spirit.†Forest has written for several newspapers and magazines as well as other writing pursuits, including a novel and collection of short stories. Editor’s note: This column is a reprint of a previous column.

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