Merle Haggard died yesterday (April 6) at the age of 79.

When I first sat down to write this piece, I started by looking at the very beginning of Haggard’s long, storied history, concentrating specifically on events that took place solely because of his existence in the world.

Now, some of you may not know this, but not only was Haggard the Keeper of Keys and Grounds, but he was also solely responsible for bringing Harry to Hogwarts.

What’s that? That’s Hagrid I’m thinking of? Well, shit, that’s a damn shame because I just spent a ton of time doing research on Aragog and Buckbeak.

In all seriousness though, Merle Haggard was one of country music’s last great surviving artists. And I’m not talking about this contemporary pop country bullshit that quite literally is the same song remade over and over and over again.

Merle Haggard was a godfather of what I like to refer to as old, shit-kicker country which, let’s be honest, is the only type of country music that matters.

Brad Paisley? More like Brad Droplet-Shaped-Vegetable-Motif-Of-Persian-Origin! (You’re gonna have to Google that one if you don’t get it.) And don’t even get me started on Dierks Bentley. Not even his own parents know how to pronounce his ridiculous fucking name.

Haggard, who died yesterday on what was his 79^th birthday (Ten points for sticking the landing, Merle!), was one of an elite group of country music royalty, and he left us with 49 studio albums, 38 #1 hits, and these 5 important facts:

True Country Legends Are an Endangered Species

Johnny Cash is dead. Patsy Cline is dead. Hank Williams is dead. Of course, Hank Williams, Jr. is still alive, but he’s just a drunk idiot who keeps asking if we’re ready for some football.

I am not ready for some football, Hank Williams, Jr. Fuck off already!

Save for a tiny (and ever-dwindling) group of living greats, it’s safe to say these legends are quickly going the way of the Raphus cucullatus (again, Google), and that Haggard’s passing is a huge loss for both fans of his music and the institution of country music as a whole.

To be read: Dear God, please don’t take Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton or Loretta Lynn just yet.

The Purist of Art is Often Born Out of the Purist of Tragedy

Great country music rises like a phoenix from the gutter, and nobody knew that better than Haggard.

He was born to a poor family during the Great Depression, and their first home was a converted boxcar located just off the tracks in Bakersfield, CA. When he was eight years old, Haggard’s father died of a brain hemorrhage. Five years later, he was sent to live in a juvenile detention center, and eight years after that he was sent to San Quentin after attempting to escape from jail following a roadhouse robbery. He had five wives, battled drug and alcohol addiction most his life, and battled lung cancer in 2008.

All of this is to say that Haggard had plenty life experience to pull from when it came to creating music, and because of that—because of all of these horrible life experiences that the average person wouldn’t survive—we have this wonderful music.

If that’s not poetic tragedy, I don’t know what is.

Any Man Can Turn His Life Around

Haggard spent a little over two years at San Quentin, and during that time he was hatching a plan to break out with some fellow inmates. But before the plan came to fruition, something amazing happened: Johnny Cash came to play for the inmates, and Haggard decided to join the prison band because he was inspired by Cash’s visit.

At this point, Haggard made a conscious decision to turn his life around, and he backed out of the escape plan. One of his accomplices—a fellow inmate nicknamed “Rabbit”—went ahead with the plan without Haggard and ended up shooting a cop in the process. “Rabbit” was returned to San Quentin for execution. Haggard, on the other hand, kept his nose clean and head above water and was paroled a little over a year later.

Most people would’ve given up on Haggard long before he cleaned up his act. Luckily, Haggard never gave up on himself.

Art Can Change Over Time

In 1969, Haggard released what would arguably become his most popular song: “Okie From Muskogee”

At the time, Haggard described the song as a rallying cry against the draft card-burning hippies of San Francisco, saying that it reflected the patriotic pride of those living in Middle America who didn’t do drugs. Because, you know, it’s hard to score drugs in Des Moines.

But in the years that followed, Haggard’s explanation of the song’s meaning continuously changed. At one point, he explained that the song was a political statement in support of conservative values. In 2001, he referred to the song as humorous satire, and that it documented "the uneducated that lived in America at the time.”

This is to say that it appears that even Haggard himself was trying to figure out what his music meant to him as the years went by. And honestly, that’s exactly as it should be, because good art changes over time, continuing to push concepts, boundaries, and dialogue.

Whether Haggard ever actually believed any of that stuff is irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is his willingness to evolve over the decades as both an artist and a human being.

Billy Joel Is Full of Shit

Only the good die young, huh? I’m calling bullshit.

While I definitely hope to live past 79, it’s not like Haggard died at 29 (like Hank Williams) or 30 (like Patsy Cline). Though even if he had, odds are he still would’ve lived more in those years than most others would have if they were given twice the time.

We’ll never know if Haggard had more music in him to give us, but I’m grateful for the time he was given and the music he left behind for us.

Because to me, that’s way fucking cooler than getting Harry into Hogwarts.