Chase Walker

Chase Walker started his life in Wiesbaden, Germany, the son of an United States Air Force, up from the ranks officer...6 months later he was in a suburb of Paris, France, and didn't get to the States until 7th grade. Prattville, Alabama, was heaven on earth and the beginning of the Americanization of a kid who lusted for all things USA. "New Kid in Town" was the mantra for the next few years, moving from school to school and town to town in the Southeast. Baseball, football and basketball took up the sprouting jock's time and pretty soon, he went on to the University of Maryland and the ROTC program, destined to get his pilot's wings. That all came to a screaching halt with the introduction of a bit of lead into his right knee from a dropped pistol in his sophmore year. Mom and Dad had spent the better part of 19 years grooming Chase for a seat in an F-14. He didn't really know what the hell to do with a permanent limp, described as "unfit for Boy Scouts" by the military Docs. He took a stab at the business world and found out he'd probably wouldn't have been very well suited to a military career, given his serious inability to deal with authority. He packed up his guitar and hit the road with no purpose other than to "make it big". Chase ran into one good luck charm after another and wound up in Austin, Texas, just about the time Jerry Jeff, Willie, Waylon, Tom Paul and some of the other "outlaws" were starting to make a splash in country music. A fellow by the name of Alan Damron sort of took Chase under his wing and that's what he always called his grad school. Pickin' with those guys after work, three or four nights a week, was the best education a rookie could get. Damron had philosophies he shared with Walker and they became gospel. "There's an ear for every tune." "If you can't get the crowd, you got few choices. Bring out your biggest hammer and play your heart out...if that don't get 'em, either pack up or be the most expensive juke box in town." Chase spent a few years as an expensive juke box and got lucky one night in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He was invited to play a coffeehouse gig at the local college. The kids paid to get in, listened to every song and laughed at every joke. You could've heard a pin drop between breaths. There weren't many saloons left in Walker's life after that night. He started writing his own material, playing more and more colleges and even opened for a few "big" name artists. After beating his head against the wall in L.A. and Nashville for 10 years, he decided the best reason to quit is because it feels so damned good when you stop. There are a lot of places and people left out of this little story...hell, there might be another book in here somewhere. Gettin' close to the end now, anyway. Chase met the love of his life in Memphis, they moved to the mountains of North Carolina and after 17 years of a great friendship, they're raising 2 kids where God goes on vacation. Back in '98, Chase met Dean Russell and the friendship that started brought Bayou Savage to print and audio. Dean and Chase are kindred spirits, of a sort, with different paths to the same goal. They've shared stages, music, more than a bottle or two of good wine and now these books. Walker hopes the two of them can make as many people smile with the books as they did with their music. It's a helluva lot more fun to write a couple hundred pages to a story than to try and fit it all into the three minute novels Nashville's lookin' for...guarantee. Look forward to meeting y'all one day....take care.