When Don Williams died on September 8, 2017, the obituaries listed the numbers that made him a legend: 17 No. 1 country hits, 45 Top Ten records, a CMA Male Vocalist of the Year award, a place in the Country Music Hall of Fame. But the most remarkable number came at the very end of those notices. Don Williams was survived by his wife of 57 years, the former Joy Bucher, and their two sons, Gary and Timmy.

He was 78. His publicist said he died following a short illness, and the cause was emphysema. The man known around the world as country music’s “Gentle Giant” passed away in Mobile, Alabama, the same way he had lived most of his life: out of the spotlight, close to home.

A Marriage That Came Before the Music

Don and Joy were married on April 10, 1960. He was just 20 years old, a young man from the Texas Gulf Coast who had grown up in Portland, across the bay from Corpus Christi. There were no hit records yet. To support Joy and their boys, he worked a string of odd jobs.

Music came in fits and starts. In the 1960s he sang with the folk-pop trio the Pozo-Seco Singers, who scored six pop chart records. When the group broke up in 1969, Don tried life outside music for a while before heading to Nashville for one more try. In 1971 he signed as a songwriter with “Cowboy” Jack Clement, and within a few years his warm baritone was all over country radio.

From 1974 to 1991, he had at least one major hit every single year. “I Believe in You,” “Tulsa Time,” “You’re My Best Friend,” “Good Ole Boys Like Me.” Fifty-six of his records reached the charts.

The Star Who Kept Fame Outside the Front Door

For all that success, Don Williams never let the business take over his family. According to the Country Music Hall of Fame, he stayed away from music industry parties, gave very few interviews, and deliberately kept his touring schedule limited so he could spend time on his farm with his family.

He was honest about how little the trappings of stardom meant to him. The only kind of “superstar” talk he was comfortable with, he once explained, was hearing that his music had helped someone through a hard stretch of life. As for special treatment and fuss:

“I never have been too big on that.”

That same quiet carried onto the stage. Standing six feet one inch tall, Don performed seated on a stool with his guitar, letting the songs do the work. Even when the Country Music Hall of Fame inducted him in 2010, he was not there to soak it in. He missed the ceremony with bronchitis.

Time to Hang Up the Hat

Don had stepped away from touring once before, in 2006, only to return in 2010. But in early February 2016, he had to postpone his tour for an unexpected hip replacement. On March 1, 2016, at age 76, he made the decision final and canceled all of his remaining shows.

“It’s time to hang my hat up and enjoy some quiet time at home.”

He thanked his fans, his friends and his family for their love and support. Then he went home to Joy.

Eighteen Months of Quiet

That quiet time lasted about a year and a half. In May 2017, a tribute album called Gentle Giants: The Songs of Don Williams arrived, with artists like Garth Brooks, Alison Krauss and Chris Stapleton singing his songs. A few months later, he was gone.

Kyle Young, CEO of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, said Don’s music would always be a balm in troublesome times.

A Hat on a Chair, Under a Single Light

Two years after his death, from October 31 to November 2, 2019, the Nashville Symphony honored Don with three nights of concerts at the Schermerhorn Symphony Center, curated by lifelong fan Keith Urban. Don’s original touring band played along with his isolated vocals from old concert footage on a giant screen.

And on the stage sat his cowboy hat, resting on a chair much like the one he used in his later years, with one light shining down on it. When “You’re My Best Friend” came around, the recorded Don held back on the last verse, and the whole hall sang it up to him.

It was a fitting picture of the man: no spectacle, no speech, just a hat, a chair, and a song about the kind of love he kept at home for 57 years.

Do you have a Don Williams song that takes you back to someone you love?