One of Texas’ greatest singer-songwriters honored in down-to-earth ceremony in hometown
Oct 30, 2025
www.deepertexas.substack.com
by Dave Dalton Thomas
I drove north on Interstate 35, right past Papa Joe’s in Lorena. You know, the place where Billy Joe Shaver shot that fellow in the face back in 2007. Then it was on into Waco, where Shaver moved back to stay in the mid-1990s, once his wife, Brenda, was diagnosed with cancer.
Exiting onto Highway 31, I went through Bellmead, where Shaver was a wild teenager, eventually dropping out of school in the 8th grade. Finally, I traveled back in time far enough to get to the beginning: Corsicana.
Corsicana is where Billy Joe first made the papers, dang near 77 years ago today. The Oct. 27, 1948 edition of the Corsicana Daily Sun reported that a 9-year-old Billy Joe and several other characters had been cast as Indians in a short school play. Shaver was born in Corsicana and lived there with his grandmother in near-poverty until she died when he was 12.
And Corsicana is now where a statue of the singer-songwriter stands. Right in front of the Palace Theatre along Sixth Avenue, Shaver’s denim-on-denim look has been cast in bronze. Sporting a big grin and a true-to-life mangled right hand, he’s reaching out to embrace fans, or Jesus, or trouble … or probably all three. The statue was unveiled on Oct. 28, the fifth anniversary of Shaver’s death, in an hourlong ceremony during sunset.
The ceremony was just right to honor Shaver. The Lord’s blessings were counted and recounted. Stories from old friends were carefully selected for appropriateness. Shaver’s songs were played. The crowd of more than a hundred featured a mix of extended Shaver family, older fans and wild-bearded musicians. Even the fact that expected speaker Dale Watson had forgotten to tell his manager about the event and ended up double-booked and unable to come … heck, that seemed like the kind of thing that would happen to Billy Joe.
When the statue was unveiled, Shaver’s sister, Patricia Shaver, slowly stepped forward to get a good look — and gently put out a hand to touch her brother in bronze.
Mark Watson, one of Shaver’s cousins, was the person who got the statue project moving and managed it to the end. Wearing all denim, Watson talked about the tumultuous journey of the statue, abstaining from calling anyone out, but hinting at a hard road. In the end, the funds were raised, the sculptor was hired, the statue was created and approved, and it was cast and sent to Corsicana.
It’s a very good statue. In a crazy world, it may not live forever, but it ought to.
Among the better speakers was longtime Shaver friend Ron Helm, a music publisher, producer and songwriter. He recounted how he was at a casino with Waylon Jennings when he asked a touchy question.
“I said, ‘Waylon, what do you really think of Billy Joe Shaver’?” he said. “Waylon stared at me for what seemed like five minutes and I thought I really touched a nerve. Then he said, ‘Ron, Billy Joe Shaver is who I’m supposed to be.’”
If Billy Joe could stir that self-reflection in someone as ornery as Waylon, he definitely had an aura about him.
Aura is kind of a fancy word for Billy Joe, though. Lanky Moore, of the band Diamondback that Shaver plucked from East Texas to travel the world with him, said it was more like a halo.
Moore said people would ask him what it was like on the road with Billy Joe.
“I would tell them, ‘well, he’s an angel,’” he said. “And they’d say, ‘Oh, I know, he’s just the sweetest guy.” And I’d tell ‘em, ‘No, you don’t understand. I’m not talking about that. I believe he’s an angel.’ I’ve watched animals and children run up to him. I watched him lay that hand missing fingers on top of a six-foot-five man’s head and reduced him down to his knees, crying. I never saw anybody have that effect on anybody in my life.”
Many pictures were taken after the speeches and the unveiling, but as the sun neared the horizon, the crowd started to move on to one of Corsicana’s local bars where the stories would no doubt get more interesting.
Not me, I’ve gotta head back to Austin. Back through Bellmead and Waco.
Got to resist that urge to stop at Papa Joe’s.
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