In the year 2000, Chris LeDoux was diagnosed with a rare form of liver disease that led to an urgent transplant. The story of his recovery made national headlines, with fans cheering as he returned to the rodeo stage just six months later. What the public didn’t know—what even some close friends and crew members never learned—is that Chris was hiding another battle.
Shortly after the transplant, Chris discovered a tumor growing near his ribs. Doctors urged him to begin aggressive chemotherapy. But LeDoux, the tough-as-nails rodeo champion and country singer, quietly refused.
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hooked up to a machine,” he reportedly told his wife, Peggy. “If this is how it ends, I want to go out riding, not lying in a hospital bed.”
That single decision—brave, heartbreaking, and undeniably true to who Chris was—shocked those closest to him when it came to light years later.
His son, Ned LeDoux, would later say: “Dad didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want fans coming to shows out of pity. He wanted to be remembered doing what he loved—singing and riding.”
Chris continued performing until his final year, never once showing weakness in public. Behind closed doors, however, he faced pain, fatigue, and the slow progression of an illness he chose not to fight with medicine—but with willpower.
When he passed away in 2005, it was not with regret, but with resolve.
Today, fans celebrate the cowboy spirit of a man who chose to ride off into the sunset on his own terms.
Well, I was sittin’ in a coffee shop, just havin’ a cup to pass the time Swappin’ Rodeo stories, with this ol’ cowboy friend of mine When some motorcycle riders started snickerin’ in the back They started pokin’ fun at my friends hat
And one ol’ boy said, “Hey, Tex, where’d you park your horse?” My friend just pulled his hat down low, but they couldn’t be ignored One husky fella said, “I think I’ll just rip that hat right off your head” That’s when my friend turned around, and this is what he said
“You’ll ride a black tornado ‘cross the western sky You’ll rope an ol’ blue northern, and milk it ’til it’s dry Bulldog the Mississippi and pin its ears down flat Long before you take this cowboy’s hat”
He said, “Partner, now this ol’ hat it’s better left alone You see, it used to be my daddy’s, but last year he passed on My nephew skinned the rattler that makes up this ol’ hat band But back in ’69, he died in Vietnam”
“Now the eagle feather was given to me by an Indian friend of mine But someone ran him down somewhere around that Arizona line And a real special lady gave me this hat pin But I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again”
“You’ll ride a black tornado ‘cross the western sky You’ll rope an ol’ blue northern, and milk it ’til it’s dry Bulldog the Mississippi, pin its ears down flat Long before you take this cowboy’s hat”
“Now if your leather jacket means to you what this ol’ hat means to me Then I guess we understand each other, and we’ll just let it be But if you still think it’s funny, my back’s against the wall But if you touch my hat, you gotta fight us all”
Right then I caught a little sadness in that gang leader’s eyes He turned back to the others, and they all just shuffled on outside But when my friend turned back towards me, I noticed his ol’ hat brim Well, it was turned up, in a big ol’ Texas grin
You’ll ride a black tornado ‘cross the western sky You’ll rope an ol’ blue northern, and milk it ’til it’s dry Bulldog the Mississippi, pin its ears down flat Long before you take this cowboy’s hat
You’ll ride a black tornado ‘cross the western sky You’ll rope an ol’ blue northern, and milk it ’til it’s dry Bulldog the Mississippi, pin its ears down flat Long before you take this cowboy’s hat
You’ll ride a black tornado ‘cross the western sky You’ll rope an ol’ blue northern, and milk it ’til it’s dry
