Custer's Full Backstory
Written 7/17/26
A (not so) short summary of Custer's life and career, both the ups and the downs
!!! Content warning: !!!
Contains discussions of alcoholism and cancer
Early Life (1933-1952)
Born on May 23rd, 1933 to Wilbur and Ruby Buckley, Custer Buckley lived in his Texas small town for only two years. His once-wealthy parents dealt in moonshine during the prohibition but had quickly lost nearly everything due to the national depression. They took Custer and what little valuables they had left and moved to a large industrial city in England. Just to stay on their feet, Wilbur would work two to three factory jobs at a time while Ruby took up most of the parenting.
This arrangement didn't seem to bother Custer too much. He grew up to be a rather quiet child. In fact, he had some speech difficulties at first, not speaking at all for a long time and then merely saying a few words in clipped, looping sentences. The longer he went to school, though, the faster he grew out of it. In the company of his English peers, he adopted an English accent save for the occasional American-sounding word or southern phrase picked up from his parents.
Ruby and Wilbur always wanted to stay close to their roots in spite of the busyness of their lives, so when Custer began to take an interest in Western films and American country music, they encouraged him by letting him get records, nicer button-ups, and cowboy hats, money sink that it was. And in 1948, Custer got his first acoustic guitar at the age of 15 and would practice day in and day out. It was in those sessions that he felt like he truly belonged. At school, on the other hand, he often felt out of place. He never had any close friends at school, let alone a girlfriend. Knowing this, his parents sometimes worried that the guitar was a distraction for him yet couldn't bring themselves to pull him away from his one passion.
A few years into learning the instrument, Custer hesitantly began to busk along the canal or in city parks, once again encouraged by his mother who sometimes tagged along for moral support. On one of the rare days that he was by himself, though, an older man in a suit approached him and offered him a gig at a new club in town that was seeking a variety of musical acts. Although performing on a real stage was nerve-wracking at first, seeing the crowd cheer for him when his couple of songs were over was a feeling like no other. Among the other musicians there, he became quite popular for his flawless guitar playing and seemingly authentic country singing that contrasted with his youthful face. During the few times they were able to talk to him, quiet and eager to run home as he was, they always encouraged him to make a record. But how did one do that?
Finally, a group came to the club that had all of the answers. They were part of a record label hoping to grow their country catelog. It was 1952 and Custer was only 19, but the sooner they could get started, the better. And so, Custer's nights at the club were over. He now spent his days in a recording studio, playing a mix of covers and his own original songs alongside an ever-rotating group of older musicians. The label wanted to lean as hard as possible on Custer's Texan roots, making him play up an only half-fake accent and dress in cowboy gear for the cover photoshoot. In December of that year, his debut album, "Buckley Coyote," was released. It was undoubtedly an experiment for the company and a little rough around the edges. Unfortunately, it had even less success than they had expected and Custer was almost dropped as quickly as he was picked up. That was, until he released his first single, an extra track called "Tulip Belle", and became an star overnight.
The Country Years (1952-1961)
Before Ruby and Wilbur knew it, their son was whisked away on a national tour during which he was to visit them now and then and send them letters detailing his travels. Along with playing at bigger and bigger clubs and performance halls for longer periods of time, he recorded more singles and albums at a variety of studios. In 1954, he released "Texas Man". Then in 1955, "Custer Buckley's 15 Country Favorites", a cover album intended by his label to bring him more radio play, was released. He was adored by crowds, appearing in magazines, and shaking hands with many of the very musicians who inspired him. But there was still a place across the ocean that he had his eyes set on.
To promote his highly successful fourth album of originals to an American audience, the label flew him across the Atlantic in the summer of 1957. Interviewers and audiences alike took a keen interest in him as an unusual, 24 year-old "English country singer" and sometimes their questions took on a more confused air than an admiring one. Nonetheless, Custer received an overwhelming applause at every show. It was easily his favorite part of his whole career- more than the nice hotels, more than the food, more than getting to see his country of origin. He thrived off of what the public had to say about him and it was often reported that when he wasn't practicing, he was pouring over fanmail and magazines, hanging onto every little word of praise.
But in early September, just before he was set to return home, he at last played in Houston, a few hours away from where he was born. A TV personality named Charlotte "Lady" Gamble put the whole thing together, and he was honored, if a bit nervous, to meet her after the show for a special celebrity-to-celebrity chat. Little did he know, Lady Gamble had a bit of a reputation among the music industry. Whether or not it was the label's intention, she got Custer alone backstage while the crew were cleaning up. She slowly enticed him to ride back to her temporary trailer. But did Custer actually feel anything when they kissed? She was older, more experienced, taller than him, blonde... the type of women most men would die for, he thought. It would be stupid to say no to her.
While lying in bed after the deed, however, he couldn't shake off the feeling of dirtiness. He couldn't live with it- this nakedness, this sudden obligation towards her. He was still so young. But when he turned towards her to confess that he couldn't be in a relationship with her, he was met with a harsh laugh.
"You really thought I wanted more than this from you? You must really think you're somethin', huh. Well, you were small, anyway." Custer left the trailer shortly before the dawn, and although no verbal agreement was made, neither talked about the event or ever again to each other. It was sure to ruin their reputations. He returned to England shortly after and continued to make a few more hit albums. He even returned to America for another tour after the success of the first.
But as the '60s inched closer, Custer's popularity began to fade. His last solo record, "Believe Me", was released in 1961 to little fanfare and lukewarm criticism. He was noticeably unhappy with his music and even his genre by extension. During his rotations around the recording studios and clubs, he couldn't help but notice the sudden success of so-called "beat groups". When his label soon held a meeting with him on whether or not he should be dropped, he desperately brought up this observation. To his surprise, they liked the idea. Really liked it.
The Low Point (1961-1967)
After a few weeks, Custer's label connected him with an up-and-coming group named The Poppyseeds. The other members were all aged 18 to 21 while Custer was pushing 30. He wasn't exactly a baby-faced celebrity anymore and had only a cursory understanding of beat music. Knowing this, the other Poppyseeds treated their new recruit with contempt. Was this really the best lead guitarist they could get? A wannabe American who barely spoke and played too slow? They recorded alongside him begrudgingly, releasing an album and a few singles in 1962.
When they toured, Custer played in the shadows. The crowds danced more, but they were clearly uninterested. The lyrics didn't mean anything. It was all just fast to be fast. Custer held onto the obscure group, though, scared of being left without a label and thus forgotten completely. But when he came in for the very first recording session for their third album in 1964, he was greeted by a teen already laying down the lead guitar track. His mind had already connected the dots before the lead singer forced the news down. Custer was being replaced. They didn't need him anymore- nobody did. It was about time that he stopped keeping out the new blood and moved on from music.
The blow hit Custer hard. As soon as he returned to his London apartment, he pulled out a bottle of alcohol that he'd been given as a gift by one of the more sympathetic producers. That was when the drinking began.
As the Poppyseeds, frustrated with their lack of success following their third album's release, eventually disbanded altogether, Custer landed a basic factory job where nobody would see or recognize him... if they even could recognize him. He always drank alone and woke up most mornings with a hangover. His parents, living a bit more comfortably but still in the same small apartment a few hours north, stopped receiving updates from him and constantly hoped for a surprise visit that never came. Their expectations for him had been so high. He couldn't stand to see them disappointed with him. And so he continued to work, drink, and work again, the days and weeks and months becoming a never-ending loop as the beat groups turned psychedelic and the music strange.
Then came one of the rare nights in 1967 that Custer went to a bar to drink. He was 34 and already had deep wrinkles framed by his longer hair. He was sure that nobody would pay attention to him as long as he avoided the crowd. But early into the night, a young American man with dark sideburns, a cleft chin, and broad shoulders sat beside him, obviously there to celebrate something rather than mourn. Upon catching a glimpse of Custer's face, he let out a sudden gasp.
"No way... You're him! Custer Buckley! What are you doing 'ere? Oh man, I can't even begin to tell you how much of an inspiration..." and so on. At first, Custer was a little annoyed, not least when the man kept mentioning nostalgia and childhood as if he were a hundred years old. But praise was praise and a secret smile began to creep upon his lips before long. The man introduced himself as Ray Richards, the manager of a new group called Fire Magnolia. A manager, huh? He'd never heard of this weird group but the job title sure sounded important. Then Ray, in an impulsiveness that was already characteristic of him, offered to connect Custer with the band. They could even do a couple of jam sessions together- they'd get along great. But this Custer declined. He already knew what it was like trying to play in a band. It wasn't for him, and perhaps neither was music by extension anymore. Ray insisted, however, and soon gave him his name and address in case Custer changed his mind.
It didn't take very long. Just as he was getting up to leave a few hours later, most of the bar already empty by then, a song came on the radio that stood out from the rest of the weird vague drabble that they played those days. It had a clever chord progression like he'd never heard before, moving lyrics, a simple but powerful solo. Maybe it was the drink getting to his head, but when the jockey announced the name Fire Magnolia, he knew he had to talk to Ray as soon as possible.
The Return (1967-1973)
Ray, of course, was happy to see him coming back, dressed a little more like his old self at that. He could tell that Custer was getting older and hadn't had the best of days lately. Perhaps that's what made him so inclined to give him something to do. Despite his hesitance and relative aloofness upon meeting the band, he connected especially well with another American named Jesse Kinsman. They had come from the same rural area, Jesse arriving to England a few months before joining Fire Magnolia, and bonded excitedly over many of the sayings and traditions that they had heard from their parents.
Over the second half of 1967, Custer handed over two songs that he had written during his hiatus and helped write two more specifically to fit the band's unique sound. He recorded solos, backing vocals, and even one lead vocal during the verses of a song. When taking photos for the cover, Jesse and Ray insisted that Custer was included. The final album, released in 1968, was Fire Magnolia's third and most successful album. Custer joined them on a brief international tour and the experience instantly reinvigorated his love for the crowd.
Although most of the group had begun to like Custer, there was a tiny part of them that knew his stay was temporary. They could see it in the way that he never gave much about himself away, preferred to practice and write alone, and let them make all the decisions on the songs the moment his suggestions were turned down. He was a solo musician through and through. Nevertheless, Jesse continued to be close friends with him after his departure. The two of them and keyboardist Roy had become something of a trio during his days with the band, going to clubs together and getting up to mischief. But while Jesse easily became Custer's closest buddy, Jesse had many other friends that he'd known for longer. Many times, Custer would be in the mood to talk for hours only for Jesse to be rushing somewhere else after five minutes. Such was the nature of Custer's one deep friendship.
Jesse and Ray helped a bit on Custer's first solo album in almost a decade, but all of the songs were originals by him. Some psychedelic influences from Fire Magnolia carried over in the album's sound, but it was otherwise a slower folk album heavy on acoustic and piano with sometimes a woodwind. Halfway through, he was signed under a completely new and more trustworthy label referred to him by Ray and the self-titled "Custer Buckley" was released in May of 1969. It had a decent number of curious sales, some positive reviews, nothing special. But this was only the beginning of Custer's musical peak.
Also with the help of Jesse and Ray, he was able to obtain some of the profits of his old '50s career that his original label had been hoarding for years. At least, it was enough profits to put a down payment on a small, somewhat worn-down house out in the English countryside where he could almost live out his cowboy fantasies. Granted, the land was too small for horses and a simple glance towards the neat cobblestone road could break the spell. But when he wasn't practicing, he could fix up the house and the quiet field was alive with musical inspiration. The rooms were soon filled with old western memorabilia and a large collection of Mexican turtle bobbleheads. Combining traditional studio recordings with ones from his work-in-progress home studio, he released his second album in 1971 entitled "Jackalope". Although it started with the slow and acoustic-driven "Riding The Rods", many of the other songs had a heavier feel. He was beginning to pin down a sound inspired by the "Southern rock" groups coming out. This was a new Custer Buckley. He wasn't some cute country singer anymore.
Just the same, he grew a beard and let his hair go longer. It was beginning to thin in the front but nothing severe yet. He played a decent number of shows around England, having more freedom from his label to spread the dates out as he pleased. It was during one of these gaps at home that he met a dog wandering around his property. It was a scruffy albeit charming gray mutt and when he managed to catch up with the elderly neighbors who owned it, they explained that they were moving to the city and needed someone to take the dog off their hands. Custer didn't hesitate. The dog was named Horseshoe and they quickly became glued to each other. He even took him on tour, just leaving him alone for a few hours chained backstage or in a truck until he was done with the show.
His mental health greatly boosted now, he also finally got back in touch with his parents. They accepted him with open arms when he invited them over one day, Horseshoe running circles around the couch they occupied. "You can tell us anything," they said to him again and again. For a week or two each month, they stayed in a small guest bedroom that Custer had fixed up, and it seemed more and more like they were planning to abandon their old decaying apartment. Although it helped to have someone watch Horseshoe while he was off recording, he liked having his silence at home to write and practice. He was putting special thought into his third album, wanting to make something harder, catchier, and more sophisticated than anything he had ever made.
In The Wake (1973-1980)
Then came 1973, and Custer released his biggest album to date: the incredibly famous "Head To Toe." Featuring heavier, faster songs than his previous two albums, "Head To Toe" instantly became a country rock classic, its title track sitting at the top of the charts for several weeks. Several musicians, including Jesse, called in to congratulate him. Dozens of television programs invited him for performances or interviews. He also launched a more expansive tour with a firmly-established backing band nicknamed his "Turtles". Each show was characterized by passionate applause to a mix of songs across his three recent albums alongside one or two '50s songs remade in his new style for nostalgia's sake.
As for the interviews, however, he was a little harder to pin down. From the beginning, his speech problems would reawaken when he felt nervous, resulting in meandering, off-topic answers to questions. He also never delved much into his life and inner feelings. In the '50s, the public had a perception of him being cute and shy. This changed as he grew older. Suddenly he was described as aloof and avoidant. Still, audiences couldn't help but smile when, during an outdoor interview, he kept getting distracted playing with Horseshoe.
Work on his fourth album was quickly under way. At this time, he also had enough money to afford his parents a new home that, unlike his own, was fully furnished and located in a nice neighborhood an hour away. He frequently brought them along on his travels, often just his mother due to his father's occasional health issues. There was another heartwarming interview with her sitting beside him, arm wrapped across his back, helping him answer some of the questions on his early life.
His next album was released in 1975 and titled "Country Star". It had a bit more of a pop feel to it and didn't succeed as well as "Head To Toe", but the slightly funk-influenced "Last Night Alone" sold well as a single. Custer was now 42 and donned a thick mustache above a goatee, the back of his thinning hair going way past his shoulders. His outfits became more elaborate- white embroidered suits, deerskin two-pieces with fringe, rhinestone-studded jackets. Near the tail end of the promotional tour, he had a chance encounter with his old friend Jesse Kinsman. After a long night of catching up and going out on the town, Jesse insisted that Custer joined Fire Magnolia again, if just for another album. Eventually, in too good of a mood to continue declining, Custer agreed to the deal. He was a successful country rock musician, and Fire Magnolia was an almost as successful progressive rock band. What could go wrong?
The band had undergone some lineup changes since he had left. Their manager Ray had been replaced by a bearded man named Todd Yancy and Roy replaced by the young and eccentric Clover Hill. But where problems arose was actually in how Custer himself had changed. In 1968, he was at a low point, distrustful of his own ideas and willing to take any feedback necessary to get back on top. By the mid-'70s, however, he thought he had everything figured out. The critics said so, the fans said so... any idea of his was sure to succeed. Before even entering the meeting room for the first time, he had it all planned out in his head. Fire Magnolia was going to go country. He was going to write all of the songs, or at least direct them. It was going to be a hit.
Although he didn't get quite the level of creative control that he wanted, it was certainly close. While some of the members let his attitude slide, older members such as Jesse's own wife Maggie openly complained about Custer's lofty ideas. Jesse tried his best to mediate the situation, supporting Custer and the other members equally and with an awkward smile. But the work was exhausting. Where Jesse originally saw an opportunity for Custer to repay the group for what they did for his career, Custer clearly saw another favor from Fire Magnolia.
The group wasn't able to revise the album much before it had to be released in 1977 to meet the anticipated deadline. The result was a somewhat disjointed mix of reluctant progressive rock songs and essentially Custer Buckley songs with a hint of Fire Magnolia. It wasn't received very well critically or financially. They did a few shows across England afterward, but seeing the lukewarm reaction to their newest songs, they began to fall back more and more upon their older music while Custer receded into the back of the band. It was an especially big blow for the solo musician who received the brunt of the harsh criticism for the album's sound. Jesse did what he could to fight accusations of Custer "taking the band over", stating in some interviews that he had nothing but good intentions. It was clear, however, that their partnership was done.
After Custer returned to his solo career, he would release a few noticeably confused singles. Country rock was beginning to fall out of fashion in the disco takeover, and the Fire Magnolia situation left him disillusioned with the genre. His singles hinted at a hesitant shift towards a poppier sound. His performances continued to sell a decent amount of tickets. But early into 1980, two tragedies would happen back-to-back. First was the tragic passing of his father after a long history of health issues. Then, not even a month later, Horseshoe died of old age. Custer took a break from music in order to mourn, staying briefly with Ruby. She could easily read in him that he needed alone time, however. Upon returning home, he tried to cope in solitude with just a couple drinks once a week. Then once a week became twice a week. And twice a week became nearly every night. He found himself wrapped in the same cycle that he'd been in during the mid-'60s and could see himself getting out of it due to some outside miracle like Ray. But that miracle never came and his habits worsened.
The Lower Point (1980-1987)
Years came and went. Custer's Turtles drifted apart to join other backing bands. Fire Magnolia's new manager quit and the group fell into a hiatus of their own. Disco "died" and synth took over while the world largely forgot about Custer Buckley. Since guitar really was his only passion, he spent most of his days in front of the television with a drink while his instruments collected dust. He lost a lot of weight and almost all of his hair.
Then one night in another one of his drunken slumbers, he was awoken by a music program on TV featuring Jesse performing one of his new solo songs on an acoustic guitar. He looked as young as ever and the bluesy sound was equally timeless. Custer cried, not from the song's moving lyrics, but from the bitter pain of being so utterly left behind and forgotten by the friends that he had made or thought he had made.
When he got up the next afternoon, Jesse's song humming like a vague dream, he knew that something had to be done. He did it once, and he could do it again. It was time for a comeback.
Tracking down a company that agreed with the idea wasn't easy, however. Some of them took one look at his disheveled appearance and shut the door. He began to create a new image and plan his sound, but instead of taking Jesse's simple, true-to-the-heart direction, he wanted to go hip. It was the formula that worked for him, after all. So he shaved his face save for a graying mustache. He covered the shaggy remains of his hair with a flashy blond wig reminiscent of a glam rock musician. He partnered with some younger musicians including two synth players to record demos. Finally, in 1982, he got a deal with a newer, smaller record company desperate for any pre-established name it could get.
For a while, Custer seemed to be on the mend, his eagerness to make the album briefly distracting him from his urge to drink. But the other musicians and producers could tell better than he could that he was rusty. He was almost 50 and yet his voice sounded much older after years of straining it for his harder country rock songs. Not to mention that his guitar solos were sloppy at best. They tried to get the album out as fast as possible, anyway, and "Buckle Up" was completed at the tail end of '82. The cover featured Custer in his new look at the wheel of a spaceship, turning around to grin for the camera, and accompanied by a Shetland sheepdog co-pilot owned by one of the producers. The sound itself was equally tacky and poorly mixed- completely different from his previous records but in a bad way. Upon release, the critics said as much and sales were rapidly dropping after the initial wave of curious buyers. In a panic, Custer released a single two months later that hopped on the promotional video trend. He performed a vast number of shows through 1983. The ridicule only shifted to target his new look and the one thing he could think to do was keep trying. He studied the trends more, pouring over new fashion magazines and listening to synthy pop music until his head ached.
By the turn of 1984, he quickly fell into drinking again. It was shortly after the release of his second album that Jesse invited him over. Jesse! After 7 years! Custer tried to make himself up as much as possible, donning his wig again and preparing Jesse a gift in the form of a fringe jacket from deep in his closet that was always too big for him. Upon entering, however, the first thing he saw was Jesse's son Mason. He leaned down and introduced himself with a smile to which the little boy began crying and ran to his dad.
When the two musicians were able to catch up, Jesse quickly pointed out the smell of liquor lingering on Custer's clothes even though he hadn't drank in two days. Then he suggested that Custer dropped the wig and wore a hat instead. Needless to say the meeting was awkward in spite of the gift. It didn't help when Custer accidentally let himself rant about the state of the music industry. When he left, his embarrassing stumbles kept looping in his head. But the image that stuck with him the most was Mason. It suddenly struck him that he had no family aside from his mother. No wife, no children, no legacy. The audience was his only lover but even it had turned against him.
Although Custer continued to make music, the whole process was soured by his bitter envy of Jesse. More and more often, he began to show up to the studio drunk, even with a bottle in hand, grumbling incoherently and snapping at producers before being dragged out to record another day. The songs were completed at a snail's pace. In three years, one more album and a few singles would be released. The public became bored with hating Custer Buckley and shows were being cancelled left and right due to low ticket sales.
Then, one night in 1987, Custer felt he had reached a dead end. He had tried everything to save his career, to make people love him again. It was no use. Left at home with nothing else to do, he drunk through an entire bottle straight, and then another. He quickly lost count and, upon noticing his now empty stash (at least he thought it was empty), he started his most prized vintage pickup and started driving. Driving to where? He couldn't remember. He just wanted to get away from everything. Away from the critics, away from the booing crowds, away from the thoughts of Jesse having everything that he did not.
The world became a dark blur through the windows of his car and suddenly the ground beneath his wheels vanished. He was careening down a short cliff separating the road from a copse of trees on someone's property. The truck tore through the branches, tumbling down a forested hill for what felt like hours until finally coming to a stop at the bank of a creek. Custer crawled out of the door and onto the ground, scratched up but otherwise uninjured. On the other hand, the same car in which he once drove to wildly successful shows, laughing with Horseshoe or Ruby, was destroyed.
He didn't remember much about that night. Some way or another, he crawled all the way back home and woke up at the end of a trail of mud and leaves on his already cluttered living room floor. Someone was knocking on the door. He stumbled to his feet in a panic, trying to find somewhere to hide amidst the aching of his body and head.
Now where did he hide that key? Of course, under the ceramic turtle statue. Ruby burst into the messy house, furiously shouting his name. She had just received the news that morning- witnesses seeing an iconic pickup driving wildly off of a cliff, the totaled vehicle found at the bottom of a ditch. She could tell by the trail of mud that he had returned home, thank God, and she was determined to put her foot down at last.
"Custer. Zacchaeus. Buckley. I've had enough, y'hear? I'm not gonna sit back and let you ruin your life anymore." In a scene that would be thought of as comical a few years later, she dragged him out of his bedroom while scolding him for everything from the state of his house and appearance to the lack of phone calls. He kept trying to protest, promising that he'd get better, that he wouldn't buy any more drinks, that the car was the last mistake. But she wouldn't budge. She was sending him straight to rehab. And so paused his music career again for the next several years.
The Recovery (1987-1991)
Custer spent his first few months of rehab in a large institution in England. Somewhere the story got out about his crash, but Ruby refused to give many details aside from the fact that Custer was fine and merely taking a break. She blamed the public, to a certain degree, for the health of her son. But it was also important that she expressed his fault in the matter so that he would be encouraged to recover.
Eventually Custer's country house was sold off. Ruby stashed away all of his instruments and collectables in her house while he was sent away to a rented cabin out in rural Texas. For a few more months, he was placed under a number of restrictions. He didn't have a car; Ruby gave him money to pay a man to deliver his groceries. And he was only allowed to walk so far from his property- a rule that he broke a handful of times just to find that there was nothing for miles and return home.
Although he knew he had let his alcoholism get to a very bad state, he initially thought Ruby's measures to be extreme. He had learned his lesson when he totaled his truck. She didn't need to treat him like a baby when he was 54 and had seen way more of the world. But in those quiet Texas mornings when the sun would rise over the plain and sprinkle the clean wooden furniture with dust, he realized that this was the get-away he needed. Ruby sent him things in the mail- puzzles, books, VHS tapes of old westerns, seed packets, and letters about her little happenings. He wrote back in much shorter letters, not having much to write other than that he was getting better and missed her.
Finally, in 1989, she paid him a visit and stayed at his house for a while. He had planted flowers around the yard and taught himself to cook. The surfaces of the tables were brightly colored by the puzzles that he had completed. Ruby smiled as she watched him. He seemed so much happier than he had in years.
Yet one day while she was helping him rinse the dishes after lunch, he let out a gasp of pain and kneeled over the counter, holding his stomach. Then, two nights in a row, she awoke to him groaning across the hall, tossing and turning in his bed. It was just a simple stomach bug, he said. It would go away soon. But she didn't want to take any chances. They went to a hospital in the nearest city, had multiple doctors inspect him, paid for pricey tests. In a few weeks, they received the news that Custer had late stage pancreatic cancer. He must've had it for a few years, in fact, in order for it to become this severe. He could receive treatment but the cost would be steep and there was no telling how effective it would be at this point.
Custer and Ruby quickly gathered his things and flew back to England where he would live in her house while he was periodically treated at a hospital there. The last remnants of his hair were finally shaved off. He was prescribed strong medication to help with the pain. As was his way, he didn't voice said pain often. At the start, he did what he always did when he received bad news: close himself off and ruminate alone. But as he thought back to the events of his life, he remembered everything that his parents had done for him. Be it success or failure, their support remained underneath it all. All of the sudden, his envy for Jesse's family began to wane and even seem silly.
So one quiet afternoon while Ruby was looking out over the garden with a cup of tea, Custer walked over and hugged her, telling her everything that was on his mind. Not just the good things that he thought she wanted to hear. But his struggles and his questions. How much longer was he going to live for? Was he ready to die now and leave nothing behind, nothing to show for but a failed music career? Ruby took his face in her hands. "Chucky, you've done so much for me- for your daddy, too. Do you have any idea how happy you've made us just by being here?"
Then she told him about his birth, how Wilbur couldn't get her to the hospital on time and they almost lost the baby. She named him after her own maiden name so that she would never forget her family who, like her husband's, were long gone by the time they went to America. But a tiny part of her always knew that the line might end with Custer. What mattered more was that he lived a happy life, free from the hardships that she and Wilbur went through. She realized only now that hardships are everywhere.
Then Custer pulled away and noticed one of his guitars in the corner of the room- his original acoustic, worn but still playable. He picked it up, tuned it a little, sat down in front of Ruby, and began to play for the first time in over two years.
Custer's Last Stand (1991-1995)
Custer wouldn't return to the public until 1991. By that point, his condition had leveled for now thanks to the treatment but could get worse at any point. Either way, though, he saw no use in keeping his diagnosis a secret for any longer.
He expected a few people to be sad, of course. What surprised him was the sheer volume. Magazines in both England and America began to put him on the front page, reminiscing over his '50s and '70s music and wishing him a recovery. Eventually Jesse called in and set up a time to meet him. Custer got to see Jesse's wife Maggie again (who still had slightly mixed feelings towards him) and their three children. Now a preteen, Mason was much less scared of him and mostly wondered why Jesse was so excited about this old bald man with a cowboy hat. "Are you, like... my new grandpa or something?" he asked to which the duo laughed.
It was then that Jesse suggested they make an album together, and remembering the last time that they had done exactly that as well as the failure of his '80s music since which he'd lost his voice more, he was quick to insist that he was done with music. He just wanted to live a quiet life with his mother now. The more he thought it over since that day, though, the more he missed playing with Jesse, guitars face-to-face. Even Ruby, upon hearing about it, encouraged him to do whatever made him happy, nevermind what audiences would think. And so, like every time before, he changed his mind and came running back to Jesse.
Recording began in October, and with Ruby's words ringing in his mind, he decided to go for a soft folksy sound reminiscent of the very first solo albums he made from 1969 to 1971. This also matched well with the folkier music that Jesse was making at the time and the two compiled a number of songs that Custer had written over the years but never recorded alongside a slower track off of Head To Toe dedicated to Ruby. The process was rough, however. He struggled to get a perfect vocal take, was still a little rusty on guitar, and sessions were sometimes interrupted by his extreme bouts of stomach pain that the medication could only do so much for. His doctors advised him to take frequent breaks from physical exertion, even standing up. Jesse helped the best he could, learning the signs for when Custer was in pain but didn't want to admit it and putting down his own temporary guitar tracks for when playing became too much. He didn't mind that the recording sessions were often short and sporadic. After all, it gave him more time to raise his kids and work on his own musical projects.
When Custer wasn't in the studio, he spent almost all of his time with his mother. She listened to old records with him, watched movies with him, and helped find all sorts of other activities that didn't push his body too much. He also began to do a lot of interviews around this time, too, revealing more about his career, inspirations, and feelings than he ever had before. Somehow, the diagnosis made him feel less shy around the audiences and cameras. Everything had an almost dream-like quality. Even for the brief moment in early 1993 that he seemed to be on the mend, a hidden part of his brain must've known that his time was limited.
Shortly after his 60th birthday, the cancer suddenly worsened. He was seen in public using a walker, and during his last television interview, he had to be helped onto the stage by two men. He looked older, scrawnier, his eyes a paler blue and cheeks sinking in. The old speech problems of his youth also appeared to come back as he responded to some of the questions with delayed, unrelated tangents and even zoned off a few times.
Recording was off the table. While two songs off of the album were released early as singles and received plenty of praise, the full album itself would not breathe the same air as Custer. He stayed in Ruby's house through 1994, lying in bed for almost the entire day and speaking less and less. His mind seemed to be somewhere else half of the time, trying to escape to a place where the pain couldn't find it. He was inevitably sent to a hospice in November where he held on for a few months and was constantly visited by Ruby. But one day in 1995, he began begging to return home in a hoarse voice. When Ruby saw this for herself, she took matters into her own hands and lifted him from the bed (which wasn't difficult). Ignoring the protests of the caretakers, she wheeled him out of the hospice and took him back to her house and the bedroom that he had occupied since his diagnosis. It was filled with his old western memorabilia, turtle bobbleheads, and photos of him and Horseshoe, him and Jesse, and him and Ruby. His old childhood blanket was folded at the foot of the bed, the floral quilts faded and torn. Custer said nothing. He didn't even smile when he saw her. His almost grey eyes seemed to see nothing and everything at the same time, and after Ruby left the room she began to cry.
On April 4th, 1995, a week after he was brought home, Custer Buckley passed away. In his last few hours, his mind seemed to come back for just a moment. It started with his hand in Ruby's giving a faint squeeze. Then his eyes met hers and a tiny smile began to form on his lips.
"Please, ma... Don't be..." He rasped, the words barely audible. Don't be what? Ruby wondered at first. Only later did she remember what she thought out loud: "Chucky, I could've done more. I'm so sorry."
The Years Following (1995-2003)
The music world had many ways of mourning the loss of such an iconic country and Southern rock musician. Long news segments looked back on his life and achievements, singers stopped in between their usual setlists to perform his songs in tribute, and everywhere his biggest hits spiked in radio play. While Ruby went private to be in mourning, Jesse made a public statement a few weeks after his death about the impact that Custer had on his life and music. Eventually in 1996, the long-awaited final Custer Buckley album was released and, a year later, Jesse and Ruby would partake in the making of a full-length TV documentary titled "Riding The Rods: The Custer Buckley Story" that featured interviews and never-before-seen footage and photography of Custer through the years. To this day, it's viewed as the definitive history of his life and career.
Custer would go on to be remembered not for his failures (copies of his '80s albums are, in fact, hard to come by) but for his success and influence upon the country rock genre. More importantly, though, he would be thought of as a complicated but passionate musician. Perhaps, the documentary admits, his emphasis on the validation of his audience was what led to his downfall. But it was when he was himself and opened up that he was happiest, contrary as it was to the quiet and reserved persona that he had created.
Ruby Buckley herself would pass away peacefully in her sleep in 2002. She lived to be 94. All of Custer's old possessions were handed off to various people who had worked with him, particularly Jesse who'd inherit most of his instruments and old demo tapes.
But there was still one loose end that nobody even knew existed. Somewhere in Texas, a nurse named Marcella would marry Hudson Finnegan and give birth to three children by 1986. She never knew her father, although her somewhat troubled mother Charlotte Hall worked as an accountant following some sort of television past that she knew little about. Charlotte passed away in 1993, taking any knowledge of Marcella's father with her.
That was, until 2003. The oldest son Graham Finnegan had a very troubled teen life stemming from a slew of pent-up frustration from not being the success that his family seemed to expect him to be. Often he ran away from them to spend time on the streets, even turning towards drugs and fighting. One day, however, he'd return to his family to see everyone shocked about some news. His mother had done some sort of test, and it turned out her father was a famous musician by the name of Custer Buckley.
At this time, Graham was close friends with a girl from school named Penny. She was technically his only real friend, but that wasn't the point. She'd recently joined a rock band with her boyfriend. Although Graham just knew bits and pieces about his grandfather and country music wasn't really his thing, it seemed like fate had landed in front of him. The answer to the question he'd been asking his whole life had suddenly become so clear. He was going to be a musician.