At 78, Don Reid stood quietly at the edge of the old Virginia field where the county fair once echoed with laughter and gospel harmonies. The others were gone now — Harold, Lew, even Harold’s deep voice in the second verse. Only Phil Balsley remained, silent beside him, as they faced the empty stage set up not for a crowd, but for memory. There were no lights, no applause — just the wind and the faint rustle of corn nearby. As Don sang “More Than a Name on a Wall,” his voice trembled not with age, but with grief — not just for the mother who once wept for her son in Vietnam, but for the brothers he’d lost along the way. When the final line faded into the stillness, he looked toward the horizon and said softly, “We were singing for her… but today, I think we’re singing for ourselves.”
phil WHEN THE SONGS BECOME PRAYERS: Don Reid Returns to the Field Where the Statler Brothers Once Sang At 78 years…