Introduction:
Friendship often grows in the most unexpected places, and for two young men at Jacksonville State University, it began in a classroom filled with rhythm. Long before success ever found them, one of them—Rhubarb—was already tapping beats on the desk, much to the professor’s frustration and everyone else’s amusement. Those simple moments of youthful spontaneity revealed something deeper: a natural musical talent that would later influence countless lives.
Their friendship strengthened over years, through chance encounters at small radio stations and various towns across the South. 
Before fame arrived, they knew each other simply as classmates, musicians, and dreamers. And perhaps that is why the bond endured—because it was built not on reputation, but on authenticity. “It’s nice to have friends that don’t like you just because of your fame,” one of them reflected. “Those are the ones that stay with you forever.”
As their paths unfolded, both found themselves drawn into meaningful work beyond entertainment. Through Rhubarb’s influence, involvement with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society grew into a heartfelt mission. What began as helping a friend blossomed into supporting thousands of families facing devastating challenges. In a world where hardship is inevitable, the belief that joy still has a place is powerful. As he said, “I don’t think God expects us to be sad all the time. You can help people—and still laugh, still celebrate life.”
This philosophy shined even during something as leisurely as a warm, sunny day on the golf course. Surrounded by three generations of a family team, they enjoyed honest competition, shared stories, and moments of gratitude. Despite the seriousness of the cause behind the event, joy remained at the center. Life, after all, does not pause for grief; it invites us to live fully while we can.
Creativity has always played a guiding role in this journey. Music, writing, and poetry remained lifelong passions—ones passed down from father to child. Inspired by evenings listening to poetry read aloud, he discovered a love for Edgar A. Guest and Robert Frost, treasures he later shared with his own children. Moments like teaching his daughter “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” revealed how artistic legacies transcend generations. These memories, he said, were gifts he wished he could share again with his late father.
Even now, between touring, writing books, and creating new music, he remains grounded in simple truths: people everywhere want the same things—love, family, and hope. Though the world often highlights the negative, events like charity tournaments remind us that kindness still inspires change, and that celebrating life is not just possible, but necessary.
In the end, his message is clear: Be creative. Be grateful. Laugh often. Help others. And cherish the people who knew you long before the world ever did.