My guess is that none of you knew Pearl Parrish. A Wyoming resident, Pearl was a master of old-timey country songs and Western songs and real-as-real-could-be honky tonk songs. She knew probably 2,000 songs, she once told me, and I don't doubt it for a minute.

Pearl grew up in Collinsville, Oklahoma, the same town my mother grew up in and she was my Mom's age. But the two never knew each other. Pearl was born almost blind and lost what remaining sight she had, save for a tiny sliver of light and vision in one eye, by the time she was 12. She wanted more than anything to go to school, she loved learning, but there wasn't any way a girl back then in the early 1930s could do that. So she dropped out of school and she started learning a few songs.

Defying her parents, she married a musician when she was 13 and began traveling with him on the backroads of Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico -- throughout the West and Southwest, singing in bars and on radio shows. Singing throughout the Great Depression, living in their car much of the time, with their guitars and, too often, his love of whiskey. They had a great old time, she said, and she sparkled when she told her stories, so I believed her. But he drank and was an ugly drunk, and she eventually left him.

But she kept on singing. Kept on learning songs and sharing songs and best of all sharing herself. And that was a gift indeed, for Pearl had the kindest heart and the merriest disposition of anyone I've met, in spite of the hardships life had handed her.

Pearl never could read music, couldn't even see the words. Her vast library of songs and keys and who she "got this song off of" were all stored in her beautiful brain and her big, kind heart. I am so sorry I didn't spend more time with her, learning her songs, letting her know what an inspiration and a star she was in my firmament. I'd like her to know I finally learned that F chord, but that, in spite of her encouragement, I still don't think I'll ever be able to bar. I believe that we often get more than one mother in this world, and Pearl was one of mine, singing a kind of music of which my own mother would never approve.

I met her when she was turning 80. That was three years ago. I remember the twinkle in her sightless eyes as she adopted a flirty, adorable expression to sing "Let's Go Spend Your Money, Honey," or "Hey, Good Lookin'." Pearl was just plain cute, even in her 80s. I stood backstage with her several times as we competed in the female vocal category of various old-time country music and old-time fiddle shows. I always wanted to win, but always hoped more that Pearl would.

Pearl passed away last week. I am blessed to have known her. I wish you all could have.

I'm sorry she had to go, but I know the Angel Band has a new member now, and she'll keep them busy, sure enough. Lord knows she's got a whole lot of pickin' and singin' to share with them.

WyoWoman