Willie Nelson, visibly frail but determined, made his way to the front of the chapel. He clutched Trigger in one hand, his weathered hat pressed to his chest. Soft light filtered through the stained glass behind him. “This wasn’t mine to sing,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. “It was his.” A hush fell over the room.
The Song Was His Only Goodbye: Willie Nelson’s Heartbreaking Tribute in a Texas Chapel The ninety-one years weigh on Willie…