James Vernon Taylor

Daughter Tamela, her husband Nicholas and I went to a concert over Charleston Way.

James Vernon Taylor, singer, songwriter, six-time Grammy winner, over 100 million albums sold worldwide, a career spanning five decades, was putting on An Evening with James Taylor and His All-Star Band Tour. And we had tickets.

The concert would be at Credit One Stadium over on Daniel Island, noted for its exclusivity, pricey real estate and definitely challenging one-way streets and boulevards.

Our hotel was the Hampton Inn on Daniel Island. We parked my car. We used Uber and Lyft.

Our drivers were Russian, Venezuelan, Filipino and one from California who kept getting lost.

Tamela had bought concert tickets for my birthday present: Section 315, Row Q, Seats 17, 18 and 19. Nosebleed territory. Didn’t care. As long as their sound system worked, I was a happy camper. No worries.

Through luck and craziness, don’t ask me, we never got near those seats, and somehow or other, we managed to be seated in the 11th row, orchestra, center right.

This was an open-air arena, seating 10,000 souls, with a covered roof over the band. Not too hot, not too cold and not a raindrop in sight.

Most concerts have those super-large TV screens here and there. Not this night.

There was one enormous screen in front of the bandstand, up and over where James sat and sang.

Now, if you were a stranger to James’ talents and were expecting some sort of glorious tenor or whatever, nope.

James has a gravelly voice. He sing-talks his way through songs that tell a story.

A modern-day troubadour.

His collection of guitars is amazing. Stage crew members would bring one out, take the one just used and walk offstage with it. This happened over and over.

There are backup musicians. They sing mostly in thirds, if you know what that means. His son Henry stands tall by his side, has his voice, his heir perhaps.

James, alone and sometimes with his musicians, sang and we listened to “Whenever You’re Ready,” “Rainy Day Man,” “T-Bone,” “Shower the People,” which is one of my very most favorites, “Handy Man” and “Steamroller.”

Then there was Set 2 with “Country Road,” “Copperline,” “Carolina in My Mind,” which made the evening perfect, “Fire and Rain” and another of my favorites, “Your Smiling Face.”

For an encore, he gave us “Shed a Little Light” and “How Sweet It Is,” a Marvin Gaye cover, and how can you listen to that and not sing along?

We wouldn’t let him go.

We sat, all 10,000 of us, and listened as he sang, singing softly along, not loud, mind you, and when he stopped, we’d stand and whistle and cheer and whoop and holler until he would sing again.

He sang and sang, and his crew was right there with him, and bless him, he did one encore after another.

Until, finally, at long last, the lights went up, the breakdown crew came out, and it was time for us to go.And we did.

We were at the tail end of the herd as they filed out of the amphitheater.

Tamela called the Uber. Um, what was the name of the street? Uber said they would pick us up at No. 185. We walked across the street. Looked. 182.

Maybe we missed them on the stadium side. Walked back across.

Nope. No numbers. One more time. Walked back across. People were standing on the sidewalk watching these three dummies go back and forth across the street.

Finally, at long last, our Uber showed up. And you know which one it was, don’t you?

And it took us a while to get to our hotel.

Annelore Harrell’s journey is a tapestry woven with experiences and extraordinary accomplishments. Annelore is a testament to living with passion, resilience, and an unquenchable thirst for adventure.