Steve Ripley: Part 8 Facing Death

Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination 

and life to everything. 

– Plato

 

We often view artists as resilient beings leading extraordinarily inspired lives. This is especially true for musicians who have the ability to create beauty that goes beyond their own imagination and time. Their songs have the power to seep into our hearts and minds, allowing us to experience their artistic expression as if it were our own.

No one likes to contemplate their own mortality, especially a musician who is a vibrant, creative individual in the prime of life. And Ripley led a resilient, fulfilling life. Despite not being wealthy, he achieved financial stability. He formed and performed with his highly successful band, The Tractors. Ripley played a key role in developing and preserving Oklahoma music history. He held a deep love and appreciation for his family. He truly must not have expected his time had come. Unfortunately, throughout his life, Ripley harbored a genuine fear of needles. And that fear may have rushed his life.

Upon experiencing shoulder pain and declining health, he eventually visited his doctor and submitted to having blood work done, revealing an advanced case of prostate cancer. Despite trying various medications, none provided lasting relief. After a long day in the studio with Jarrod Gollihare, exhaustion would set in. The workdays grew shorter. Ripley’s foremost concern was leaving unfinished business – including the continued organization of Leon Russell’s archives, his own songwriting and recording, and nurturing new talent in the music industry. He also grappled with profound sadness at the thought of parting from his family, mournfully saying, “I know they will miss me, but I feel it’s switched around, like they’re going to be gone from me.”

In a candid and heartfelt interview with John Earling, Ripley stated that he did not want this specific part of his story to be made public while he was still alive. He explained that the interviews were for Voices of Oklahoma, a historical project. He mentioned that he was undergoing treatment and had good days and bad days but was ultimately not going to recover from the cancer. He wanted this information to be added to the record only after his death. Earling assured him that his wishes would be respected (and they were).

He reflected how many people struggle to afford cancer medications and treatments and felt grateful for having Medicare and good insurance. His treatment cost around ten to twelve thousand dollars a month, which was covered by insurance, and he considered himself very fortunate in that aspect.

Ripley was comfortable in his Baptist faith but was honest that he didn’t know what was coming. He confided to Earling that, “As soon as I turned loose, a long time ago, of God as a little, old, white-haired, long-bearded man sitting on a throne, then I turned loose of everything like that. So, I don’t know, I don’t pretend to know, but I also don’t believe anybody else knows.” He was at peace in not knowing.

Toward the end of 2018, Ripley began to slow down. The family was grateful for the opportunity to spend more time together. Charlene told me that “Steve worked until the very end. He got dressed every day and went into the studio to work on the Leon archives. I mean, every day. He didn’t lay in bed. He got up and tried to work. He might have been about to fall out of his chair but he was trying.” Jarrod would arrive and they would work together, mainly preserving Russell’s tapes.

 

December 13, 2018 – Working on the Leon Archives “There’s a lot of love in that room” – Charlene

 

I had a conversation with Angelene’s husband, Jonny Wright, who is a musician and television producer, about that period of time. He explained that he got to know the Ripley kids through Hanson. Ripley had been a great help to the Hanson over the years, and the kids formed a strong bond of friendship. While Wright and his brothers played cinematic rock, new wave, and synth-pop, he told me, “Steve was so supportive of us – I was surprised he approved of me. Steve would say, ‘I don’t get this (our music), but it sounds great.’ When they were moving out of The Church Studio to the Farm, he was packing up and said, ‘I don’t have the console or pro tools, but if you want to bring your gear into the big room, use my mics…’ He gave us the keys. We were the last band to record there.”

As Wright got to know Ripley even better after marrying Angelene, he said, “Steve had a sort of legendary aura about him, but he was so sweet and generous, self-deprecating.” Ripley dearly loved children, especially his own. He was thrilled when Mickey, his curly-haired grandson who resembled him, was born. “Steve and Mickey had a profound bond. Mickey held a deep affection for him. Even though Mickey was just one and a half years old when Steve passed away, he still has memories of him. Since Steve’s death, Mickey has been surrounded by photographs, videos, music, and home movies, ensuring that his memory has never faded. Angelene often spoke of the magical connection she shared with her dad, and now Mickey is experiencing it as well. Steve was such a loving grandpa, but his time was cut short, leaving a difficult void. Mickey and Charlene share an unbreakable bond, and we all feel Steve’s absence whenever Mickey reaches a milestone. Now we have our little girl, Stevie, and we’re surrounding her with memories of Grandpa. Family is the most important thing, and it’s remarkable that despite his ambitions, accomplishments, and success, family always took precedence. Steve truly lived by his own advice.”

Wright explained that Ripley “wrote a song called Mickey and Grandpa: A Day in the Life and created a simple guitar demo for it. In the control room, we listened intently as Steve danced with Mickey cradled in his arms. We sat in our chairs, fighting back tears. Instead of dwelling on his illness, we chose to cherish every moment we had together, fully aware that time was slipping away. I secretly recorded everything. Later, we told him just how much we loved it. The song is truly priceless. I can hardly believe we have it. And now Mickey is really into The Beatles. I mentioned to him that there’s part of a Beatles song in his song. We listened to it again and there’s a part where Steve says, ‘You’re going to love The Beatles, Mickey.'” Charlene made a video of Steve and Mickey to accompany the song.

Ripley had the recording in a simple state. He sent the first song demo to a few friends. Charlene said he wrote, “Here’s a little ditty I wrote for our grandson Mickey – and for the family. Just sort of framed out. It’s unlikely I’ll ever ‘finish it.” She would finished it with friends after his death; its significance now goes beyond its beginnings and is an Oklahoma musical treasure.

During a visit with Isaac Hanson, Ripley played the song and hummed along with the recording. The string portions were already in his mind. Ripley knew that David Campbell had collaborated with Hanson on their String Theory recording. Campbell was a conductor and composer who had arranged music for movies such as “Brokeback Mountain” and “North Country, and worked with artists like Beyoncé and Michael Jackson. He is also the musician Beck’s father.  Ripley asked what it might cost to have Campbell arrange strings on his song. Isaac inquired and Campbell agreed. Hanson and Campbell gifted his work to the Ripleys. Charlene said, “Steve was in his last days and Isaac brought it out to play for him, so  he got to hear it.”

Wright explained, “Around Christmas he was declining and went into hospice care there in the big room at the Farm. Angelene, Mickey and I moved there. Elvis and Paige, too. We just lived there.”  Charlene recalls that while they were gathered they “were grateful to celebrate Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and Steve’s birthday on January 1,” even though they knew his days were few. Charlene insisted that they carry on as normally as possible.

Wright told me, “the days went by, we began to compile something to share following his passing. I gathered information, anecdotes, and reflected on his achievements, coming to understand just how much there was to learn about him! Charlene reached out to Eddie Van Halen to let him know, and he issued a statement in response. She called family and close friends. The night he passed away we had a document outlining his life. We sent it out the following morning.” Ripley passed away during the evening of January 3, 2019.

On January 4, 2019, newspapers, radio, and online media, from Rolling Stone to websites around the world, reported the sad news. His friend, Jim Edwards wrote in Tulsa People, “Steve Ripley, long-time pillar of American rock and country music, died peacefully, surrounded by his family at their Land Run homestead between Pawnee and Glencoe. He was 69. News of his departure came suddenly to most, as he had disclosed his long battle with cancer only to a small group of family and friends. He was loved and admired by an array of colleagues, friends and fans—including musicians, sound innovators, recording artists, and producers from across America and beyond.”

 

From funeral program designed by Angelene Ripley

 

 

On February 5, 2019, a public tribute to Steve Ripley was held at what is now the downtown Battle Creek Church in Tulsa. The site was in close proximity to his beloved Church Studio. Although no formal announcements were made about the memorial service, the church was filled to capacity. Family, friends, musicians, fans, and even the medical team who cared for him during the final years of his life gathered in the sanctuary. 

The service was rich in heartfelt recognition, capturing the profound impact of his life, and providing a space for healing and collective remembrance within the Oklahoma music community. Bishop Carlton Pearson led the service. Dr. Bob Blackburn from OHS lovingly remembered, “Steve was well-known for his focus, his ability to achieve his goals, and his remarkable storytelling talent. He infused everything he did with compassion.”  In an emotional video montage honoring his father’s life, Elvis Ripley included a rendition of Steve Ripley’s own performance of “Knocking on Heavens Door.” The film ended with a standing ovation.

Isaac, Zac and Taylor Hanson delivered a powerful performance of Leon Russell and Ripley’s heart-wrenching song Ready to Cry. Isaac then introduced the next song, “Charlene asked to share the last thing he recorded and wrote. I first heard this song without warning, Steve just hits play and ‘Mickey and Grandpa: A Day in the Life’ filled the air. A few tears ended up in puddle in front of my chair because this is one of the sweetest songs I’ve ever heard.”

Long-time friend, Jim Edwards acknowledged Charlene as a benefactor and instigator in all that is great about Steve and the family. She was the expeditor of Steve’s bright ideas. “She once told me that ‘He asked me to marry him in a prayer and I thought we’d have a special life together but had no idea how special.”

The Red Dirt Rangers gave a passionate tribute. In 2004, following a tragic helicopter crash involving the Red Dirt Rangers in the Cimarron River, Steve and Charlene were the first to arrive at the hospital, finding accommodations for the families of the injured. “Just helping a friend,” as Ripley might say. Brad Piccolo described their relationship, “Steve made us feel important. He was willing to do anything to help us.” John Cooper emphasized Steve’s pivotal role in Red Dirt music, highlighting that he was part of the first red dirt band, Moses, which released Moses Live on Red Dirt Records in 1972. It included an original song called Oklahoma Blues, which became a blueprint for Red Dirt music.

Other tributes and reflections were given by Ripley’s bandmates and Jamie Oldaker read a moving message on behalf of veteran session drummer, Jim Keltner. The memorial ended with a John Fullbright-led When I Go Away (Levon Helm) with The Tractors bandmates, Jamie Oldaker on drums, Casey Van Beek on bass, along with Terry Ware on guitar and Daniel Walker on B3 organ. The vocals of the powerful and soulful Regina McCrary, Kristi Rose, and Fats Kaplin (also on mandolin) honored Ripley with a jubilant ballad that also conveyed a personal message in a story to his family. As usual, music was a means for Ripley and his family and friends to commemorate life and death.

All my kin who love me
All my friends who care
Look beyond the dark clouds
We’re gonna meet up there
When they lay me in the cold ground

Bow your heads and pray

And I’ll be bound for glory in the morning
When I go away
And then the sun’s gonna shine through the shadows
When I go away

 

While Ripley might not have known exactly what would come after death, his faith was born out in a text Angelene sent to Bishop Pearson, “Not sure how to put in words,” she wrote, “but I was thinking about how my dad was such a loving father that I never had any problem understanding a loving God.”

Following his cremation, Ripley’s family is constructing a stone memorial at Union Cemetery, which is close to the Ripley Farm. Ripley’s memory has endured, and his music still inspires others. His legacy lives on through the people he affected and the music he created with them. His story is a poignant reminder that kindness, generosity, and family are the most important things in life.

 

Don’t forget, family is what’s important. Tell your mama you love her. 

Kiss your babies. We’re all in this together. Bye-bye, kids.   

– Steve Ripley

Building a legacy demands faith, determination, and dedication. In my upcoming final piece on the life of Steve Ripley, we will delve into how his extraordinary legacy remains interwoven with the history of Oklahoma, how it continues to uplift musicians, and what is currently unfolding at the Ripley Farm Studio.





About Deborah McLaren

Deborah grew up in Tulsa and Is a huge fan of the Tulsa sound, Red Dirt music and all the musicians from here. She’s an author and loves writing stories for The Church Studio.

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