When I was asked if I wanted to write a story about Charlie Daniels, I immediately answered, “YES!
I was shocked and hurt when I heard that Charlie passed. So many have been dying. As the tears flowed I thought about the man. He was a giant of a man, especially to this 5’1” photographer. He always made me feel special.
We never talked politics because he knew we didn’t agree, but I always felt he loved me anyway, and I hope I made him feel the same.
I could go on, but then I saw something called “The Soapbox” that was written by Charlie Daniels, Jr. I read Part 1 and realized that I could never write anything as heartfelt and beautiful as Charlie’s own son wrote. So, I called and asked if I could use that. Charlie, Jr. said yes.
I miss you already, Charlie, and hope that you rest in peace!

Posted on 07.11.2020
The Best There’s Ever Been Part 1 – Soapbox, Jr.
As I sit here, it’s Saturday morning/afternoon, July 11, 2020, the day after we laid my father to rest.
I think it goes without saying that this has been the worst week of my life, bar none. The man I’ve known for 55 years, who, along with my mom, have always been there for me is gone.
We’re still shell-shocked.
I know he’s only gone in the physical sense, I have no doubt that at 9:52 AM on Monday morning on July 6th, dad heard “Well done, my good and faithful servant,” and I know that I will see him again.
The emotional roller coaster this week has been overwhelming. It started at 5:45 AM when mom called me crying and said that I needed to get up to their house right now, that dad was sick. My first thoughts were that somehow – despite not having hugged my parents in over 4 months, and any time I had to be in close proximity to them I was masked – dad had gotten infected with COVID-19.
I quickly drove up to the house and found mom and dad on the upstairs porch and dad was slumped over in his chair, I asked him if he could breathe, he nodded and tried to say yes, but it was obvious that he was very weak.
I called 911, and while I was on the phone with them, mom called dad’s cardiologist, and rather than COVID-19, he told mom that he thought he was having a stroke which I relayed to the 911 operator.
The EMTs arrived and got him to the ambulance, and mom stayed at the house. There was some confusion about if we could ride in the back, or not, and I just wanted to be able to get out and get anything if dad needed it.
Dad’s longtime manager, David Corlew, met me at the gate, and he followed me as I hugged the bumper of the ambulance all the way to Summit Medical Center in Hermitage.
We arrived and then someone came out to talk with David and I about dad’s condition.
It wasn’t good. He told us that dad had a massive stroke, and that because of the blood thinner he was on he wasn’t clotting.
Dad had a stroke in 2010 while snowmobiling in Colorado, but made an almost complete recovery, with just a little lingering neuropathy in his fingers on his left hand. But he was still able to perform over 100 dates a year.
He was a machine. I’ve always said that I hope I have half of his energy when I get to be his age.
But back to the present.
He was prescribed a blood thinner as part of his treatment, and it probably kept him from having another stroke for 10 years, that and his pacemaker. In December of 2018, he had cardiac catheter ablation surgery to improve his heart rhythm, which increased his energy even more.
But unfortunately, the blood thinner is what did him in this time. Because his blood wasn’t clotting, the blood kept pouring into his brain stem.
We asked if there was anything, ANYTHING that could be done. He said they could try to reverse the effects of the blood thinner and see if they could stop the bleeding.
But by the time the meds kicked in, they weren’t getting any brain activity.
Mom had already been summoned, and we said our goodbyes.
He was the strongest man I’ve ever known. The best father, the best boss, the best friend I could ever ask for.
My mom and I miss him terribly.
…A couple of things of interest:
First of all, the CDB social media accounts will stay active, and we’re going to keep tweeting some of Charlie’s daily tweets, a scripture, “Never Forget 9/11,” “Benghazi ain’t going away,” “22 VETERANS COMMIT SUICIDE EVERY DAY!!,” and more. I know he would want us to keep that going.
We still have anniversaries, birthdays, new merchandise and music to offer, the Volunteer Jam will morph into a tribute show. I’m hoping to get some input into some remixed/remastered classic CDB albums, and some vault material for future releases and dad just finished a novel, which we’re going to try to edit and get it ready to be shopped.
So, this isn’t the end, it’s just a new direction for everyone, but dad’s music will survive long after his passing. We will keep his legacy alive, and do our best to extend it and keep it going for future generations of fans.
My mom and I would like to say thank you for all the thoughts and prayers over the past week, and we have needed every one of them, and even more, if possible.

This week, I’ve heard a lot of people say that dad was “The best there’s ever been.” And I have to agree, he was, and I don’t mean fiddle players.
What do you think?
Pray for our troops, our police, our country and the peace of Jerusalem.
God Bless America.
— Charlie Daniels, Jr.

Posted on 07.17.2020

The Best There’s Ever Been, Part 2 – Soapbox, Jr.
Once again, I want to say thank you for all the love poured out for my dad, my mom and me. It’s going to be hard to adjust to life without him, and thank you for all the prayers. We need each and every one of them.
I wanted to pick up the story at the hospital after dad took his last breath.
Most of the CDB family, business office staff, the band, crew and dear friends joined us at Summit Medical Center’s ER.
Everyone said tearful goodbyes to the man who kept most of the people there employed for many decades, some of them as many as 45-47 years.
Then some of the hospital staff and the hospital
chaplain talked to us about doing a Patriots Honor Walk for dad when they were ready to take him to the hearse and then to the funeral home.
The Patriots Honor Walk is miltary-themed, and it is the civilian equivalent to the military Honor Walk as the hospital staff lines the hallways as the recently deceased is taken out of the doors. I wanted to stress to the hospital staff, that although dad loved our military, he did not serve.
I asked dad about that a number of years ago when some online trolls had called him a draft dodger. The truth of the matter is that he failed his physical due to his poor eyesight when he got his number called. Dad wore thick glasses when I was a child – which he attributed to a high fever he had at an early age – and contact lenses on stage when he performed until Dr. Ming Wang was able to perform LASIK and corneal implants in 2013. He wasn’t able to have the operation sooner because he also had astigmatism, and Dr. Wang kept advising him to wait until the procedure was perfected.
So, that being said, I wanted to let the staff know that information, and they said the Patriots Honor Walk is similar, but for people who were passionate supporters of our country, and our military. One of the nurses on staff who served in the Navy brought an American flag and she draped it over my dad’s body, and the hospital chaplain handed out cards with a beautiful prayer he had written for us.
While I was letting friends of mine know what had happened, the honor walk was being organized, along with something else.
This is going to be difficult for me to put into words, and I’m already tearing up as I write it.
While the hospital was in Hermitage, TN, in Davidson County, members of the Mt. Juliet Police Department and the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department were organizing a procession from the hospital to the funeral home in Mt. Juliet.
When it was time, we walked with dad’s body on the gurney as it made its way to the hearse. All the ER staff who tended to dad, friends, employees, friends of ours in law enforcement and many others lined the hallway and outdoors as we got ready to leave for the funeral home.
Since I had driven myself that morning, I got in line behind the car that mom had been brought to the hospital in. Not only were there friends, and the CDB family in the motorcade, several of MJPD & Wilson County’s finest led the way, and at least two dozen Patriot Guard Riders bringing up the rear on their machines.
When we turned off I-40 onto Mt. Juliet Road, we started to see people gathered along the street. With just 45 minutes notice, people stepped out of their places of work, left their homes and in the middle of a pandemic, lined the streets of Mt. Juliet to pay their respects to my father who, despite having moved to Lebanon in 1979, still called Mt. Juliet home. A good friend of ours who had a lot of pull got the land “honorarily annexed” into Mt. Juliet.
But seeing the outpouring of love, the American flags waving, the people holding signs saying “We Love You, Charlie!” made me realize I had made a huge mistake.
I should’ve had someone else drive me.
The same tears that are flowing now were flowing even harder as I saw the town I grew up in and went to elementary school, junior high and high school come out to say goodbye to my father, and I was a wreck.
Those feelings continued right up to when we pulled into the funeral home as the Mt. Juliet Fire Department had the ladder extended on one of their trucks and an American flag hanging from it.
It was an overwhelming display of love, honor and respect. And it made me extremely proud to be his son.
My mom and I are still struggling, and we’ve got a lot to work through, but we want to say thank you for all the flowers, the donations to The Journey Home Project and mostly the prayers for us. They are much needed, and much appreciated.
I also wanted to say thank you to the ER staff at Summit Medical Center. The staff was kind, understanding and went out of the way to take care of dad, and my mom and me. You have no idea how much that meant to us.
I think I’ve got at least one other soapbox in me about the events of last week, and possibly more. Nobody wants to hear my opinion like they did dad’s, but I may try to find a few topics to at least get a few more “Charlie Daniels” soapboxes out there for the world, even if it’s from the newer model.
What do you think?
Pray for our troops, our police, our country and the peace of Jerusalem.
God Bless America.
— Charlie Daniels, Jr.

Charlie, Jr., Miss Hazel, David, Carolyn, Paula, Bebe, Angela, the CDB, and everyone else who I missed, my thoughts are with you and all I can say is, “That’s the way it’s done, Son!”
–Randi
Soapbox reprinted with permission from Charlie Daniels, Jr. Check out
www.Charliedaniels.com