Then Came Bronson.....

     Back in 1969, there was a television series about a lonesome vagabond who rode a motorcycle around the country and fought the establishment.  It was called “Then came Bronson…”  I don’t remember much about the series, but I do remember that everyone who knew Bronson Evans felt the stories were about him.  Even the name was right.

     Bronson Evans lived the kind of life that every man is capable of living, but few actually achieve.  Only very rare people have the courage to make the hard choices and live with the results as Bronson did.  He looked at every problem from the standpoint of “What is right?”  He followed with, “How do we get there from here?”  He did this in every aspect of life---business, home, family and social.

     Bronson lost a hard-fought battle with Cancer earlier this year.  Even in the depths of despair and pain, he retained his sense of humor.  He and his life-long friend, Hugh Ruggles, flew to a clinic in Germany in a last ditch effort to fight the disease.  On the plane home, Bronson was drugged and listless, hunkered down in his seat, only partially conscious most of the time.  As the plane started its final approach, the flight attendant passed from seat to seat, thanking her customers for flying the friendly skies.

    The attendant addressed Hugh, assuming Bronson was asleep.  “We want to thank you and your father so much for flying Delta and hope you will make your next trip with us.” She said.

    As she moved on down the aisle, Bronson, apparently not asleep, quietly murmured, “If you ever tell a soul about this, Hugh, I’ll break your damn legs!”

     I’ll remember Bronson—I’ll remember the Barbeque Cook offs, the motorcycle trips, the Fish Fries, the Saturday morning breakfasts at Hill Country Café.   I’ll remember the quiet intelligence and the quirky sense of humor.  And I’ll think of that lonesome motorcycle rider, crossing the graceful Bixby Creek Bridge on the Pacific Coast Highway, all by himself…..

                                                                       Bronson Evans

      Melvin Bronson Evans passed away on January 30, 2012 at his home on the Guadalupe River in Hunt, Texas, with his wife and children at his bedside.  He was sixty eight years old.

     Bronson was born on January 7, 1944, the only child of the late Melvin and Catherine Evans.    He grew up with an innate sense of honesty and a built-in dislike for authority.  Because of this, his young life was a constant adventure and he “pushed the envelope” in everything he did.  These traits only intensified as he matured.

     After graduation from Midwestern State University, he accepted a position with Campbell’s Soup Company.  Even though he was an incredibly hard worker, he was psychologically unable to play “corporate games.”  He realized, early on, that he would always have to be self-employed.  Bronson opened a series of bars and restaurants in Wichita Falls and then Houston, eventually culminating in the Abby Inn Restaurant and Bar, an establishment still remembered by many who lived in Houston during the seventies.

     Bronson met, courted, and married a beautiful and free-spirited young lady, Karen Laws, during this period.  The marriage surprised many of his friends, but it endured and resulted in two children, the loves of their lives, Phillip Bronson Evans and Catherine Elizabeth (Libby) Evans.  These children added a whole new dimension to Bronson’s life and brought undreamed-of happiness.  He worked at being a dad with the same focus and intensity he demonstrated in everything else he pursued.  He was a fantastic father and was absolutely devoted to his family.  He showered them with unconditional love.

     Before the children, Bronson and Karen dabbled in various bar and restaurant businesses in Houston and Austin, including the Texas Opry House in Austin.  Finally, they decided the restaurant/bar business was too unstable and returned to Houston to open the first six locations of Sound Warehouse.

     Inevitably, Bronson chose to leave the corporate environment and go into something he could control, without outside interference or meddling.  Working from a small, rented house in the Spring Branch area of Houston, he established what would become the very successful American Student Travel Company.  When the company was purchased by a competitor, the Evans’ retired and moved to Hunt, Texas, where they designed and built a home at the confluence of the North and South Guadalupe Rivers.

     Bronson had fun throughout his life and loved his family, his friends, and fly fishing, in that order. He lived in Wichita Falls, Dallas, Austin, and Houston before moving to the Hill Country.  He joked that he “had all the friends he wanted”, but he made new friends wherever he went.  It was his nature, just like the unbelievable energy and innate honesty.  His range of friends included Hippies in Austin and Republicans in Hunt.  He valued those friends equally and was loyal to them to a fault.  Even the Republicans.

     Even though Bronson was an only child, in addition to his immediate family, he leaves behind five “brothers” who will cherish his memory: Bobby Schaaf, Johnny Stafford, Terry Worrell, Tommy Johnson, and Hugh Ruggles.

     I wrote this obit for Bronson, and will forever be grateful to his family for allowing me to do it.  It was not easy to do anything for Bronson---he did things for others, but felt uneasy if others did anything for him.  He was special, but people passed him on the streets and never knew.  Those of us who did know will always remember.