Kris Kristofferson, the much-loved actor and country music singer-songwriter, passed away at his home in Maui on September 28.
Kris Kristofferson, the famous actor and country singer-songwriter, has passed away at the age of 88.
A representative said he was surrounded by his family and died “peacefully” at his home in Maui on Saturday, September 28.
In a statement shared with PEOPLE, his family said, “It is with heavy hearts that we share the news that our husband, father, and grandfather, Kris Kristofferson, passed away peacefully at home on Saturday. We feel so blessed to have had our time with him. Thank you for loving him all these years, and when you see a rainbow, know he’s smiling down at us all.”
Kris Kristofferson was born on June 22, 1936, in Brownsville, Texas. His parents were Mary Ann and Lars Henry Kristofferson, who was a Swedish immigrant and an Air Force general. Kris developed a love for country music early on and wrote his first song, “I Hate Your Ugly Face,” when he was just 11 years old. As a military kid, he moved a lot before his family settled in San Mateo, California, during his teenage years.
According to his website, Kris had two short stories published in Atlantic Monthly when he was 18. In 1954, he went to Pomona College in California, where he played football, boxed in Golden Gloves competitions, and was the sports editor for the school newspaper. He was even featured in Sports Illustrated’s “Faces in the Crowd” issue in 1958. After graduating with a degree in creative writing, he earned a Rhodes Scholarship and completed his master’s in English literature at Oxford University in 1960.
According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, after college, Kris Kristofferson’s parents encouraged him to join the military. He enlisted in the U.S. Army and, within five years, became a helicopter pilot and reached the rank of captain. While stationed in West Germany in the early 1960s, he continued writing songs and formed a band with other soldiers. After his service, he was offered a job teaching English at West Point military academy.
However, during a visit to Nashville, Tennessee, while on leave, he rediscovered his love for music. This led him to leave the Army in 1965 and pursue a career in music full-time. In a 2010 interview, Kris said, “I just fell in love with the music community there. The older musicians really supported the newcomers, and it was a very soulful time. It was the best decision I ever made.”
In Nashville, Kris Kristofferson worked as a night janitor at Columbia Studios while submitting songs he wrote, like “For the Good Times” and “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down.” “For the Good Times” was first recorded by Bill Nash in 1968, but it became a hit when Ray Price released his version in 1970. The song appeared on Kristofferson’s debut album and earned a Grammy nomination for Best Country Song in 1972. It was even covered by soul legend Al Green.
Kristofferson’s song “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down,” also from his first album, was picked up by Ray Stevens and Johnny Cash. Cash’s version became a hit, winning Song of the Year at the 1970 CMA Awards and reaching No. 1 on the country charts.
Another famous Kristofferson song, “Me and Bobby McGee,” co-written with Fred Foster, was released on Janis Joplin’s posthumous 1971 album Pearl. The song became a massive hit, reaching No. 1 on the pop charts and earning two Grammy nominations in 1972. That same year, Kristofferson won his first Grammy for Best Country Song for Sammi Smith’s version of “Help Me Make It Through the Night.”
Throughout the 1970s, Kristofferson released more albums and hits, including “Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again)” and “Why Me,” which earned two Grammy nominations. He also worked with his second wife, singer Rita Coolidge, on several albums, winning two Grammys for their duets “From the Bottle to the Bottom” and “Lover Please.”
In a 1970 New York Times article, Kristofferson was described as “a poet more than a musician,” admired for his ability to connect country, pop, and underground music.
Kristofferson also became a successful actor, appearing in films like Cisco Pike (1972), Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid (1973), and Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974). Despite having no acting experience, he felt confident about acting and took on roles based on his understanding of the characters.
His big break came with his role as a troubled rock star in the 1976 remake of A Star Is Born, alongside Barbra Streisand. This role won him a Golden Globe for Best Actor in 1977. He later became known for playing Whistler in the Blade trilogy with Wesley Snipes.
Music was always a big part of Kris Kristofferson’s life. He teamed up with Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson to form the country supergroup The Highwaymen. Their first album, Highwayman, and its title song topped the country charts in 1985. The group released two more albums: Highwayman 2 in 1990 and The Road Goes On Forever in 1995.
Throughout his long career, Kristofferson received many awards, including three Grammys and a lifetime achievement award from the Recording Academy in 2014. He was also nominated for an Oscar in 1985 for Best Original Song for the movie Songwriter, in which he starred with Willie Nelson. In 2004, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.
In 2013, Kristofferson shared his struggle with memory loss. At first, doctors thought he had Alzheimer’s, but it turned out to be Lyme disease, according to CBS News. His wife, Lisa Kristofferson, explained that once he got the right treatment, his condition improved quickly.
“He was on all these medications for things he didn’t have, and they had side effects,” Lisa told Rolling Stone in 2016. “But after treatment, he came back. There are still tough days, but some days he seems perfectly normal, and it’s easy to forget he’s even dealing with anything.”
After releasing his final studio album, The Cedar Creek Sessions, in 2016, Kris Kristofferson officially announced his retirement from music in 2021. He also shared that Morris Higham Management would be handling his estate.
Clint Higham, president of the management company, praised Kristofferson, saying, “He is the artist that every artist wants to be. If there were a Mount Rushmore for songwriters, Kris would be on it.”
When asked about the secret to life in a 2017 interview with Men’s Journal, Kristofferson said, “I once made a list of rules. It said: Tell the truth, sing with passion, work with laughter, and love with heart. That’s a good place to start.”
Kris Kristofferson is survived by his wife, Lisa, along with his eight children and seven grandchildren.
He was first married to Frances Beer, and they had two children: daughter Tracy, born in 1962, and son Kris, born in 1968. With his second wife, Rita Coolidge, he had a daughter named Casey in 1974. Kris and Lisa have five children together: Jesse (born in 1983), Jody (1985), John (1988), Kelly Marie (1990), and Blake (1994).
A poor boy assisted an elderly man in achieving his dream, unaware that his own life would be transformed the very next day
Most days after school, I would find something to do outside the trailer—anything to take my mind off things. But little did I know that at the age of 13, my life would change.
That day, I was tossing an old, deflated soccer ball at some bottles I’d set up like bowling pins. It wasn’t much, but it helped pass the time.
Then, out of nowhere, this shiny black SUV rolled up next to the trailer. The windows were tinted, and I stared at it for a second, wondering who on earth would come around here in something that fancy.
The door creaked open, and out stepped this old man, probably in his 70s or 80s, leaning on a cane but with a warm smile on his face. He waved.
“Hey there,” he said, slowly walking over. “Mind if I take a shot?” He pointed at the bottles I had lined up.
I blinked. “Uh, sure, I guess,” I said, not really sure what to make of him.
He chuckled. “Tell you what, let’s make it interesting. If I get a strike, I’ll ask you for a favor, and you can’t say no. But if I miss, I’ll hand you a hundred bucks. Deal?”
My eyes practically popped out of my head. A hundred bucks? I could almost hear the register in my brain ringing. “Deal,” I said quickly.
The man leaned down, picked up the deflated ball, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it. The thing rolled straight into the bottles, knocking every last one down. I stood there, jaw dropped. No way.
The old man laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “Looks like I won,” he said. “Now, for that favor.”
I swallowed, curious. “What do you want me to do?”
“Come fishing with me tomorrow at the old pond,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Fishing?” I scratched my head. That was it? Seemed like a strange request, but definitely not as bad as I thought it would be. “Uh, okay, I guess. Let me just ask my mom.”
He smiled and nodded. “I’ll wait.”
I jogged back into the trailer, opening the door quietly. Mom was asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling slowly. She’d had a long shift at the gas station the night before, and I didn’t want to wake her. I stood there for a moment, biting my lip.
“She won’t even know,” I muttered to myself. “I’ll be back before she notices.”
Decision made, I tiptoed back outside. “Alright, I’ll go,” I told the old man, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake.
“Great,” he said, smiling even wider. “We’ll meet tomorrow at dawn. Don’t be late.”
The next morning, the old man picked me up bright and early in his black SUV. We drove in silence at first, heading out of town. The place looked like no one had been there in years, the water was still, with tall grass growing around it. There wasn’t a single person in sight.
“Why here?” I asked, looking around as I grabbed the fishing rods he’d brought.
The old man smiled softly as he set up the gear. “This place… it means a lot to me,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
We cast our lines into the water and sat side by side. We didn’t talk much for a while. But after about an hour, with no bites on the line, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So… why did you want to come here to fish?” I asked, curious.
The old man glanced at me, his smile tinged with sadness. “Years ago, I used to come here with my son. He was about your age then.” His voice softened even more.
“We were poor, just like you and your mother. Didn’t have much, but we always found time to come here. Funny thing is, we never caught a single fish, no matter how hard we tried.”
I looked at him. “Where’s your son now?”
He was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the water. I noticed his eyes filled with tears.
“He’s gone,” the old man finally said, his voice heavy. “He got sick. The doctors said he needed an urgent operation, but I didn’t have the money. I couldn’t save him.”
I felt my chest tighten. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, blinking back tears. “That’s when I promised myself I’d never be in that position again. I worked, I hustled, I built myself up so I’d never feel that helpless. But… I never had another child.”
I didn’t know what to say at first, but something inside me knew what he needed to hear. I stood up, walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Your son’s watching you from heaven,” I said softly. “And one day, he’ll see you catch that fish. You just can’t give up.”
He smiled at me, tears still in his eyes. “Thank you, Adam. You remind me so much of him.”
Just then, the float on one of our rods dipped suddenly into the water.
“Hey, the float!” I yelled.
The old man’s eyes widened, and we both grabbed the rod at the same time, pulling hard. But as we yanked, we both lost our balance, tumbling into the pond with a loud splash. I gasped as the cold water hit me, and the old man surfaced beside me, laughing like he hadn’t in years.
“Well, this is one way to catch a fish!” he cackled, struggling to hold onto the rod while I helped pull him up.
We finally managed to drag the rod back to shore, and to our surprise, attached to the end was the biggest fish I’d ever seen. The old man jumped to his feet, soaking wet but grinning like a kid.
“We did it!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in triumph. “We actually caught one!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, watching him dance around like he’d just won the lottery. We were soaked to the bone, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.
Later, he drove me back to the trailer. As we pulled up, he turned to me, his face soft and filled with gratitude.
“Thank you, Adam,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Today meant more to me than you’ll ever know.”
I smiled back. “Thanks for taking me fishing. It was fun.”
He reached out and patted my shoulder, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Take care, son. And don’t give up on those dreams.”
With that, he drove off, leaving me standing there with a strange warmth in my chest.
The next day, there was a knock on our trailer door. I opened it to see a man in a suit standing there, holding a package.
“Adam?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, eyeing the man suspiciously.
“I’m Mr. Johnson, Mr. Thompson’s assistant. He asked me to deliver this to you,” he said, handing over the package.
I opened it right there on the spot and inside was more money than I’d ever seen in my life. My jaw dropped. “W-what is this for?”
Mr. Johnson smiled kindly. “It’s for you and your mother. Enough to move into a proper house, and for her medical care—rehabilitation, so she can walk without pain. There’s also a provision for private tutors to help you prepare for college. Your education, including one of the best colleges in the country, will be fully covered.”
I couldn’t believe it. My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying. “But… why?”
“Mr. Thompson was very moved by you, Adam. He sees a lot of his own son in you. This is his way of saying thank you.”
Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded, overwhelmed by the kindness of a man who had once been a stranger but had now changed our lives forever.
Several months passed since that fishing trip. One afternoon, I came home to find a letter on the table, addressed to me. I recognized the handwriting instantly. My hands shook as I opened it.
“If you’re reading this,” the letter began, “then I’m already watching you from heaven with my son.”
I stopped, swallowing hard, and read on.
“The day after we went fishing, I had heart surgery. I didn’t survive, but that’s okay. Meeting you gave me more peace than I ever thought possible. You reminded me of my son and showed me there’s still joy in life, even after loss.
I’ve left you everything you need to succeed. Remember what you told me that day by the pond? You’ll catch that fish too—just don’t give up, right?”
I wiped a tear from my cheek, staring at the words. I could almost hear his voice again, and see him smiling next to me by the water.
Fifteen years later, I stood on the porch of the house I built for Mom, watching her laugh with my kids in the yard.
“You never gave up, Adam,” she said, catching my eye with a smile. “He’d be proud.”
“I think about him a lot,” I admitted, my voice soft. “I hope I’ve made him proud.”
“You have,” she said gently. “He gave you everything, and look at you now.”
I smiled, glancing at my own home next door. “It wasn’t just the money, Mom. It was the reminder to never give up. I’ll carry that with me forever.”
She squeezed my hand. “And he’s watching. I know it.”
I looked up at the sky, feeling that same calm warmth I’d felt all those years ago.
Leave a Reply