The thing I remember most from that night is how completely dumbfounded and awestruck we all were when Johnny and the rest of them walked into the room. Cash came up to the stage to compliment us on a song we had just played, and I invited them all up to play a few. They ended up onstage with us for a half hour or so, and the thing is that we were just so completely overwhelmed to be up there with them that we couldn't play a lick. I mean, we were awful. Every bit of music we ever knew went immediately and irretrievably out of our heads, and I swear to this day that Johnny was at least eight feet tall. We were all as giddy as schoolkids for days.

And they were all just as kind, sweet, and nice as they could be, Duvall and Cruise included, but June was maybe the nicest of all of them. She seemed to understand how completely bedazzled we were by them and acted almost motherly towards us. She was as country as they come, too - she reminded me of my own mother in that, really.

She lived a long, full, and remarkable life, and as the woman who tamed one of the wildest of them all, she will always be remembered right beside the Man in Black, as she deserves to be. Not, as she says, walking behind, but as she truly was: at his side, one of the strong supports that helped to prop him up when he needed it, and lifted him higher than he would have been without her. I know that Johnny's heart is broken by her departure, even as he must be gladdened by the memory of the years he had with her; and I wish him strength, the same kind of strength she gave him in his darkest hours. May she rest easy.