"Conquer! The Power of Perseverance: Don't Quit Before The Miracle Happens"

“February 22nd was a Thursday in 2018. The phone rang. It was a call informing me that one of the key figures in life, was in the ICU. Within a matter of minutes, I was headed that way.

A few months earlier, an unrelated surgery had been scheduled. Under the advice of a doctor, Mr. P. ceased taking a supplement, which he had taken for twenty years, causing his blood to clot.

In December of 2017, B started feeling bad on stage, during a performance at a legendary Blues Establishment in Austin, Texas. He finished the show without a hitch, even making the drive back to Big D.

The following day however, was different story. Connected and constantly in contact, I reached out to see how the show went. Hearing his voice garbled and unintelligible was very concerning. “BP, are you okay?” was inquired. Thoughts that raced through the mind were “I have never known him to use drugs" and “To my knowledge is not on any medication, nor has any underlying conditions which may be causing this behavior.” After a few more minutes of consultation, it was urgently recommended that he needed to get somewhere, with a quickness. He was rushed to an ER, where a blood clot was confirmed. Obviously, more testing was going to be required but for the interim, the Doctors put him on blood thinners and other meds to prevent a recurrence.

There were back-to-back concerts on the books in January. The show must go on. He suited up, showed up and showed out.

Back to Where The Story Started….

In early February, it was determined stent surgery was mandatory. The “Routine” procedure was completed the morning of February 22nd. After the surgery, he was wheeled into recovery and ultimately to a room. A few hours later, the stent failed, sounding warning alarms and alerts. All hands were on deck as they rushed him to the operating room. But it was too late. He suffered two more strokes and died on the operating table.

During resuscitation attempts, Divine Intervened and his Higher Power brought him back. When he told us the story later; much later, his only recall was the Doctors exclaiming “Mr. P., we brought you back.” Calling to mind his experience, he grins: “You guys are good, but you’re not that good.”

The damage was done. Arriving at the intensive care unit, he laid there. The man whom I love so much, was unable to stand, walk or hold a fork. The man, who since 1957, had forged an entire career with his voice and vocal cords, was unable to speak.  It was devastating.

As feeling people, Laughing and Crying are two phenomenal releases that we highly recommend. We cry when we’re happy, we cry when we’re sad. We cry when we are joyful, grateful, Spiritual, in fear, in empathy, with grief and in sympathy. (To name a few) I cry when whatever and wherever emotion hits the spirit. I have been berated and gossiped on about it. I don’t care. I wanted to cry so bad at his bedside, but I didn’t. “That’s not going to help him.” I thought. So, I spoke and offered Intentions.

It's not what happens or happened to you, It's what you do after what has happened....

A couple weeks after the incident, we sat in his room. Continuing to Love, Encourage, Lift and Support, he turned, looked me straight in the eyes and spoke his first words, at least in my presence. He muttered an inaudible from his lips “Coh, uhn Cuh”. “What did you say, B?” He raised his shaky left arm, fist clenched to the best of his ability, and with more emphasis said “Con cuh cuh.” “Did you say Conquer, B?” I excitedly asked. Again, “Con cuh.” Astonished and thrilled, I declared “With that attitude, my Brother, you will Conquer.

Guides and Catalysts....

By the following Sunday, he had been relocated to a rehabilitation center. Stopping by after lunch, his verbal communication was improving, but obviously there was a journey ahead. Stuttering, stumbling and mumbling, it was clear that the brain was sending the signals faster, than the thoughts could be converted to spoken words. He had yet to begin speech therapy. A thought hit me: Music Cures. A line from The Young Rascals 1967 smash hit entered my consciousness. So, I belted out “Groovin.” Without hesitation, BP looked over and like a songbird, almost perfectly sang back the next line “On a Sunday Afternoon.” “You’re going to be alright, Brother!” I assured him.

One Day at a Time, One Minute at a Time, One Step at a Time….

Thursday came, along with a final visit to the rehab, as it was almost time for him to head home. Using a walker, we took a slow stroll around the facility. We boarded an elevator to the ground floor and back up again. He was ready to lay back down, when I suggested that we Conquer one more hallway. “Okay,” BP agreed.

As we progressed down the long hall, we began to hear the faint sounds of a piano. Visible was an open door, with Luminance. Approaching the room, we realized it was the Chapel. Arriving at the door, the beautiful sound of Traditional Church Hymns struck us. We discreetly entered the Chapel and took a seat in one of the pews, near the back. The lady seated at the Steinway, undoubtedly noticed us and played a couple more songs. She stopped, came off the bench and approached us. We explained the situation, as she compassionately listened. She offered her Prayers and asked if we had a request. “Yes” said B. “Amazing Grace.” She returned to the piano and began playing one of his all-time favorites. With our eyes fixed on her and her instrument, the tears began to flow. We cried together as the Healing process continued. Grounded in that Moment, the hymn was a Catalyst.

Belief + Trust, Coupled with Action = Faith….

By April of that year, BP had progressed to the point where he could communicate fairly well. We were contacted by The City of Waxahachie, TX. They wanted BP to perform in their fine city at a Historic venue, where Will Rogers once performed. The festival was a year out. I immediately reached out to Mr. P. With an overwhelming and understandable amount of doubt, he stuttered “D d don’t b b book the gih gig.” I confidently replied “I’m booking the gig, Sir.” “N n no, d d don’t b b book th the gih gig.” With Belief and Trust, I replied, “Oh, I am booking the gig.” And I did.

The show must go on…. again

In the twelve months that followed, he continued to Conquer. Speech and physical therapy started, as soon as he returned home. We put him behind a microphone and worked with memory recall of the songs he wrote, produced and had performed for over fifty years. He picked up his beloved Guitar, Ruby and began working. Full band rehearsals followed and on April 25th, 2019, a mere 16 months after dying in the OR, Mr. P. returned to the big stage. As the Friday night headliner, BP absolutely nailed it! And yes, I cried on stage as we played. Later that year was another triumphant return to the big stage at a major Blues festival, on Labor Day weekend.

Keeping a Sense of Humor is Indispensable: "I'm like Mel Tillis; I stutter sometimes when talking, but Sing great." --BP

Don’t Quit before the Miracle Happens.”

--Bart Andrew Kudlicki 5/3/24