Music is about community. And as I write this, a member of our community — our music family — is very sick. He and his family could use all our love, prayers, healing thoughts or whatever you believe in right now.

 

A lot of people may not even know Larry Bowers' name. They may just know him as “The Dancing Cowboy.” We in the blues family call him Cowboy Larry. Right now he’s really, really sick. HearNebraska.org’s Andrew Norman, also one of my music community friends as well as colleagues, asked me if I’d write a little about Cowboy and why he is so special to everyone.

 

I said I’d try, because Cowboy deserves us to sing his praises. He’s a good man. One of the best I know. He loves music. That’s how we met. He's always the first man on the dance floor, and as our friend Conrad Good wrote, "Look up 'smooth' in Webster's and you will see a smiling Larry Bowers with a two-day beard, that ever present bottle of Budweiser and his hat cocked just ever so slightly on the sly" gliding around the dance floor.

 

By trade, well, he’s a retired school teacher. He taught behaviorally disordered kids in Omaha Public Schools for many years, once telling me that kids often came to his classroom as the last stop before they might end up in jail or on the streets. And he worked hard to make a difference for those kids and families. I remember when I first learned about that side of him I was a little surprised, but it is a big part of who he is. His teacher friends, they call themselves "The Gang" and know him as "Bow," and they love him, too.

 

Everybody loves Cowboy Larry. He has a big heart. The biggest you’ll find. He loves people. He is always willing to help.

 

His friend Lynda Grubbs wrote me: "He is a sounding board to me and many others. We would sit at his house by the fire and listen to music and talk. Of course, listening to all his stories, too. He is a very sentimental person. That is why he would tell so many stories. He taught me, without him knowing, not to judge a book by its cover. The first time I saw him was at the 18th Amendment and he was dancing by himself with his forefinger stuck in the neck of his Budweiser bottle. Once we met him, he became lifetime friends instantly."

 

I can add to that, that the first time I met Cowboy we were both doing our side-of-the-stage dance at the old 18th Amendment at 96th and L. He and I would later laugh about how I was a little bit shy of this rough-and-tumble looking guy, often nursing a couple of beers at a time. But we have become family. And it didn't take long. Lynda's right: Cowboy taught many of us you can't judge a book by its cover. Inside his wild exterior is the biggest heart you can find. He'd give someone the shirt off his back, and I think somebody's probably got a story about that, too. I can't tell everyone's stories here, I know, but I want to give you a sense of why he's important to us. Why he's family. Who he is behind the gliding dance floor cowboy spreading dance floor wax at the start of a show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cowboy Larry always has a good story. He’s always ready to have fun. The Blues Society family has a long-standing good one about a New Year’s Eve at the Holiday Inn Convention Center where Cowboy showed up at the after-party in his boxer shorts. I think he was impersonating the New Year's baby, but I'm not sure. I know he’s definitely not afraid to be outrageous.

 

He can also be a mother hen who was known to hang out at McKenna’s in order to make sure that a friend’s daughter who was waitressing there was safe late at night. That friend, Beth Leonhardt, remembers: "Wall-flowers were not allowed — he kept an eye out in the midst of all the dancing and gathered in the shy ones, the quiet ones … the ones who were just a little awkward or self-conscious. And soon they were blooming in his attention and care and the music and the happiness from all around them — but he started it."

 

Like I said, Cowboy Larry is music family. We share a love of music and a lot of the same favorite artists. Back when Curtis Salgado first started playing this area, Cowboy followed him to three or four cities (Kansas City and Denver, I think) to see him play, finally landing in Salgado’s hometown of Portland, Ore. One of Cowboy’s favorite stories to remind me of is how finally, in Portland, Salgado looked at him and said, “Man, I’m happy to see you, but where in the hell do you live?”

 

When I let Salgado know about Cowboy's illness, he responded: "God Bless Larry The Dancing Cowboy, an Omaha Legend," followed by "you tell him I love him and I still don't know what the hell city he lives in."  Yep, running jokes are part of being Cowboy's family, too.

 

Cowboy also loves style and has a house full of amazing Western boots, hats and clothes. He doesn't go out if he’s not stylin’. Well, except for that boxer shorts incident. But even that was a style choice!

 

Lynda reminded me that Cowboy built a custom shelf all the way around his entire living room to display his boots. He would just take a pair down when he wanted to wear them. In his "retirement," besides music, he did a lot of woodworking and construction. He helped his friend Mark Grubbs with various jobs. Cowboy's Adirondack chairs and benches, made by hand, were an in-demand item at Blues Society fundraisers. He also made some pretty cool birdhouses out of beyond-repair cowboy boots and license plates.

 

As word of Cowboy’s illness spread, friends started swapping stories and sharing their prayers.

 

Larry Boehmer, founder of The Zoo Bar and longtime local musician, wrote me: "Larry Bowers is one of those staples of the Omaha music scene that really made playing there fun. I was fortunate to play Omaha venues from 1977-2008 and I think Larry was at most of those shows. As a musician, you always notice the folks that 'get it' … understand the music, appreciate it and enjoy it. Larry is one of those people … always dancing, grooving, smiling and supporting. I noticed at McKenna's, Larry would generally dance in front of the bass, which encouraged me to turn up the volume a little more. A kindred spirit that likes to feel the low notes as well as hear them. I love you, Larry. My thoughts are with you, my friend."

 

Omaha musician and member of The Filter Kings, Josh Dunwoody wrote: "That man always brought a feeling of 'home' to any crowd he was in. No matter what venue the show was at, watching him dance with his beer really let you know you were with your Omaha/Lincoln friends."

 

Lilly Broders, longtime staff member at Murphy’s/aka The New Lift and BarFly said Cowboy Larry is ‘"truly one of the finest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

 

Terry O'Halloran, longtime Omaha venue owner and president of the Blues Society of Omaha noted: "The saying of 'Dance like nobody's watchin'' could well have been inspired by the Dancing Cowboy."

 

 

Marq Manner said Cowboy is “my favorite person to have shared a dance floor with. He is one of us … who loves music and good people. He has always been one of the kinder souls I come across. Please keep one of Omaha’s biggest music supporters in your prayers and thoughts.”

 

I’ll second all of those thoughts.

 

Please hold Cowboy Larry, a beloved member of our family, in your thoughts and prayers, along with his family and friends. We all love you, Cowboy. We're all thinking of you and we all love you so much. We remember everything you've taught us, including the power of love.

 

* Photos by Conrad Good

* Have a story about or a message for Cowboy Larry? Please post it in the comments section.

 

B.J. Huchtemann has been writing about local music for more than 20 years. She pens a weekly column for The Reader called Hoodoo, focused primarily on the area's blues and roots music.