SUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN
Kris Kristofferson, from the music picture Born On The Rez (2018)
September 29, 2024 | Robby Romero
Well, I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of a rallying cry for Standing Rock; it was Kris Kristofferson, playing on the reel-to-reel singing "Mní Wičóni; Water is Life." As I looked out over the valley of the Red Willow people, the pastel-painted desert slowly began to shapeshift into snow-capped majestic mountains of the Inca. In the village, nestled below the sacred peaks, I saw a minstrel wrangler amidst lights, cameras, and Panavision film cans filled with Peruvian marching powder. The balladeer slung his guitar over his shoulder, and his whiskey voice sang these words:
“Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose; Nothin’ ain’t worth nothin’, but it’s free; Feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues; Feelin’ good was good enough for me; Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.”
A memory of a scene from Dennis Hopper's “The Last Movie,” shot nearly a year before the world would become familiar with the posthumous No. 1 hit by Janis Joplin and those poetic veritable lyrics. All those years ago…this was my introduction to Kris Kristofferson.
Kris Kristofferson / John Buck Wilkin / Dennis Hopper, from the motion picture THE LAST MOVIE (1971)
Indeed, “Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down" has news that a highwayman has traveled on. My heart and prayers go out to Lisa, his children, family, and friends. I offer my deepest and most sincere condolences.
Kris was not just a Brownsville, Texas-born talent, but a rare gem. He was a Rhodes Scholar, writer, and movie star with natural, raw sex appeal. His soul-stirring abilities have left an indelible mark, and his departure has left a void no other can fill.
I remember Kris at a gig in Albuquerque in the ‘70s. Much like his film debut in "The Last Movie," his storytelling charisma captivated the audience, as it had so many others. The meeting solidified my admiration for the artistry of this guitar-slinging country outlaw.
Kris’ influence on music, from the soul-stirring "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down" to the soul-searching "Why Me," is a testament to the depth and honesty of his songwriting. The timeless "For the Good Times" to the heartfelt "Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I'll Ever Do Again)," and of course, the iconic “Me and Bobby McGee” and the profound "The Pilgrim: Chapter 33" run deep and will continue to inspire generations to come.
We spent time together again on Peckinpah's 1978 trucker movie set, based on C. W. McCall's 1975 country hit "Convoy." Coming off films like “Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid” and “A Star Is Born,” Kris was a superstar songster. Throughout the filming, Peckinpah had "The Silver Toung Devil and I" on repeat playing in his trailer.
One night in Hollywood in the '80s, Hopper and I went to see the Highwayman at the Universal Amphitheatre. Before the show, we went up to a suite in the hotel. Hopper knocked on the door, and a deep voice said, "Come on in, we're watching the Super Bowl." In the room were Kris Kristofferson, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson, to which Hopper responded, "Watching the Super Bowl...This is the "f word" Super Bowl, man!"
In tandem with his numerous career accolades and inductions, Kris demonstrated remarkable courage by using his talent and celebrity to champion the causes and concerns of the people. At a Free Leonard Peltier concert in Costa Mesa's Pacific Amphitheatre, surrounded by the FBI, he bravely volunteered to read a statement from Dennis Banks, the leader and co-founder of the American Indian Movement, who was unable to attend. A few years later, we found ourselves on the same lineup for a benefit concert at the National Congress of American Indians in Oklahoma and again at the Sacred Run concert and rally at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., advocating for Peltier's Freedom. His steadfast support and actions at these events were powerful and unwavering, as was his solidarity and commitment to justice.
The “Born On The Rez” session at Capitol Records, produced by Don Was, recorded by Edward Cherney, and executive produced by Laila Nabulsi, was a heartwarming reunion. With Dennis Banks and Bobby Neuwirth among the friends, musicians, and water protectors jamming in Studio A at Hollywood’s landmark Tower, the affair was filled with love, music, and the joy of coming together to create something beautiful for the movement. The record would be Banks', Neuwirth’s, and Kristofferson's last recording session, marking a poignant end to a chapter of their lives.
I've been on a few tours in my time, but this Celebration of Life Tour is hard. An Onondaga Faithkeeper once told me I would experience the loss of my closest friends and confidants, the wisdomkeepers, and the players I travel the red road with before I experience the same with my peers. Like Peckinpah, Kris's music is on repeat play, continuing to be a source of solace and comfort, a reminder of his enduring legacy.
“Yesterday is dead and gone, And tomorrow’s out of sight, And it’s sad to be alone; Help me make it through the night.”