It’s hard to write about someone who never asked for attention—because how do you properly honor a man who never demanded it, but absolutely deserved it?
Big E was a fixture in Lubbock. Like a telephone pole on the corner—you just expected him to be there. Solid. Familiar. Indestructible. I never thought to take many pictures or jot down memories because, honestly, he felt like someone who would always be around. Big, strong, and bulletproof—like a statue carved out of Texas steel.
What made Big E so magnetic is hard to put into words. My brother felt it too. Every time he flew in from Hawaii, he’d go see Big E before swinging by my house. And like clockwork, Big E would send a couple of his legendary wraps home with him—his own version of a Hawaiian Express delivery.
Some of my best memories at the Lone Star Amphitheater start with walking up the hill, catching the scent of barbecue smoke, and being greeted by a smile—and if I was lucky, a hug—from Ferlis. His presence was part of the show, the backstage pass you didn’t know you needed. That smoky aroma? It wasn’t just barbecue—it was Big E’s signature…