by Bobby Akart
Colton’s passion was music. It was in his blood. His ancestor, Captain Thomas Ryman, built the Union Gospel Tabernacle in Nashville in the late eighteen hundreds, but it wasn’t until his death in 1904 that the building became known as Ryman Auditorium.
In 1925, an insurance company installed a radio station in the auditorium that had been designed to replace the traditional revival tent used by his friend Reverend Sam Jones. WSM, which stood for We Shield Millions—the company’s motto—started a tradition of country music in Nashville beginning with the Grand Ole Opry and continuing with the concerts of the biggest stars of today. The rest was history.
Jones continued with the tour of AT&T Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys since 2008. “Last year, we enjoyed playing at Wembley Stadium in London, but it was a logistical nightmare for team operations. On a personal basis, and speaking for the Dallas Cowboys, we would very much like a team in London. It has cachet. It has an air about it of international competition. It would be good for the league.”
And good for your wallet, I suspect. Colton might not understand the finer points of football, but he understood the intricacies of the entertainment business. Jerry Jones was a master of entertainment, and the NFL was his playing field. Colton was honored to be in the game.
At thirty-nine, Colton had reached the top echelons of the entertainment and media business. Born in Austin, Texas, and with the Ryman blood flowing through his veins, he longed for a country music career. Music became his life, but he quickly learned that opportunities for guitar-pickin’ cowboys were slim and talent was abundant.
Colton discovered he had a genetic disposition toward business. When the Ryman family migrated from Chattanooga, Tennessee to the hill country of Central Texas along with Davy Crockett in 1835, they became known as traders and merchants. From Fort Worth to Austin, the Ryman name became synonymous with cattle and oil. He learned the art of business and negotiation from his daddy, who learned from his daddy before him.
The summer before he started college at SMU in Dallas, he hung out around the music venues of the Dallas metroplex. From the White Elephant Saloon and Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth to Adair’s in Dallas, Colton enjoyed the sights and sounds of country music.
The day he announced his decision to forego his education at SMU for the entertainment and media management curriculum at UCLA, his momma cried. She wasn’t ready to lose her only son to the real world yet. At SMU, she could have kept an eye on Colton and protected him. But his daddy was proud of his decision. Colton was a born negotiator and was pursuing his passion, just like the Rymans before him.
Jones took Colton’s client by the arm and led him onto the field as the practice session began to break up. Kenny Chesney had already signed as the lead performer for the upcoming Super Bowl hosted by Dallas, and the rest of the talent was being lined up. His client, Eric Church, was working his way up the Billboard charts as one of the top country artists in the nation. Securing a position in the Super Bowl halftime show would be a huge boost for his popularity and a monumental leap for Colton’s career.
As managing partner of United Talent’s Nashville office, he was already one of the most respected figures in the business. But after the most watched television program in history featured two decades of rap and rock performances, this was a rare opportunity for him to insert his country stock into the biggest spectacle in television entertainment—the Super Bowl.
“Whadya think, Colton?” asked Church. “You think we can pack this house?”
“Dang straight!” replied Colton.
“I think they wanna bring in Keith to do ‘Raise ’Em Up’ with me. How the heck am I gonna keep my feet on the ground for the next five months?”
“That’s my job, buddy,” replied Colton, trying to control his own emotional high. Who’s gonna keep my feet on the ground?
Church approached Colton and spoke quietly. “What kinda numbers we talkin’, Mr. Agent?”
“We’ll go over that in the morning, hoss,” replied Colton. “You’ve gotta gig tonight and I don’t need you distracted. I have another meeting with the NFL folks tomorrow before you and I can talk.”
Colton didn’t have the heart to tell Church that his paycheck from the NFL and CBS was a big fat ZERO. The Super Bowl Halftime Show was the biggest platform in the world to promote yourself as an artist. The performers did not get paid. The NFL covered the expenses and production costs, which could run upwards of twenty million dollars. The benefit to Church, and others like him, would come following the Super Bowl as he released his new album and kicked off his eighth concert tour. Ticket sales and music downloads would increase significantly, resulting in the well-earned payoff.
Jones stopped the procession and pointed toward the video board over their heads. “This is the world’s largest HD video display,” said Jones. The massive sixty-yard side display stretched across most of the field. He continued. “There are two hundred thousand tons of concert rigging up there. The capabilities of Cowboys stadium will make this the greatest, most talked about halftime show in history.”
“We’d be honored to be a part of it, Mr. Jones,” said Colton. Colton looked at the inner workings of the stadium. Wires and electronics traversed the structure. I’d hate to see their electric bill.
Chapter 3
36 Hours
11:11 a.m., September 7
Davidson Academy
Nashville, Tennessee
Alexis Ryman was settling into her sophomore year at Davidson Academy. As a freshman last year, she’d participated in most school activities available to her, but the lesson curriculum was a giant leap from middle school. Alex found herself studying for the first time and followed her interests from childhood, which included science, golf, and to a much lesser extent, cute boys.
She promised herself she’d never become a twit, which was Alex’s designation for teenage girls who gained the attention of boys by acting ditzy, silly, and foolish. Her love of golf taught her that practice made perfect, as the old saying went. The more these girls practiced being a twit, the better they would become at it.
Besides, she proudly inherited her mother’s good looks although Alex would never aspire to be a debutante like her mom. Alex was not shy, but she was not interested in fighting the wars that accompanied the world of high society. Her family didn’t live like that, and she had no interest in it.
Unlike most of her girlfriends, Alex had an aptitude for math and science. She was not a geek per se, although her tall, lanky frame did make her appear clumsy to some. One of her friends commented that she resembled Jamie Lee Curtis, who played Laurie Strode in the movie Halloween. Alex wasn’t sure if she was being insulted or not, so she watched the movie scene where Laurie strolled down the sidewalk in her flowered skirt, carrying her schoolbooks. Okay, maybe she did walk a little pigeon-toed.
As teenaged girls went, Alex was a model daughter and an honor high school student. Her grades were perfect, never a hint of trouble, and she shunned the advances of the boys who had a single purpose on their mind—sex. At fifteen, she was fully aware of the games they played, and she wouldn’t fall victim to their overtures. Dates were fine and curfews were met. If you didn’t like the rules, move along to someone else.
Mr. Stark, her astronomy teacher, began to write on the blackboard, causing the class to get ready for the lecture. Davidson Academy was one of the finest private schools in Nashville. Its admission requirements were stringent, and the academics were designed to prepare its students for college. High schools in the Metro Nashville system focused on conformity to rules and a set curriculum. Davidson fostered independent thinking. From her middle school days there through the present, she was taught to be an independent thinker. Students were encouraged to challenge conventional wisdom and learn how to think and not what to think.
As he finished, Stark set the chalk in the tray and pointed to the blackboard—Solar Sleuths. “For the first four weeks of this semester, we’ve covered the basics of ast
ronomy and the physics of the universe,” said Stark. Then he channeled his sci-fi hero and continued, “Adventure, excitement, a Jedi craves not these things.”
The class laughed as one of the guys recognized the quote and chimed in, “But, Master Yoda, it is the lightsaber which excites me most!”
Stark continued to play along. “Young Jedis, you must unlearn what you have learned.”
“Yeah!” shouted one.
“Alright!” added another.
“Okay, calm down, y’all.” Stark moved to restore order. “I didn’t mean that literally. The universe is vast. We needed to get an overview under your belt before we start to talk about specifics. Today, young skulls full of mush, I will turn you into Jedi Solar Sleuths.”
This piqued Alex’s interest and she sat up in her seat. Stark wrote the word SUN on the board and circled it several times.
Alex was puzzled. Their homework assignment had nothing to do with the sun.
“It all begins here,” he started. “Without the sun, there is no life on earth. Without the sun’s heat and light, the earth would be a lifeless, enormous ice ball. The sun’s energy warms our seas, stirs our atmosphere, generates our weather patterns, and provides the photosynthesis to grow green plant life, which is vital to produce oxygen and food on our planet.”
Alex agreed. Naturally, it was fun to speculate on the topic of are we alone? One of the first books she read was Contact by Carl Sagan. She lay in bed at night, imagining herself as Ellie, and Jodie Foster, who played the character in the movie. Her imagination would wander to the massive power the sun held, and what would happen if it burned out. The risk of not using sunscreen was minor in comparison to the sun suddenly going dark.
Her mind drifted until Stark brought her back into the classroom with a question. “Alex, what causes an aurora?”
She sat up in her chair and replied, “An aurora is also called the northern lights. Sometimes the sun shoots out particles of energy that collide with our upper atmosphere. The result is a beautiful mix of colors near the earth’s poles.”
“Good start,” he said. “Auroras are produced when the earth’s magnetosphere is disturbed by the solar winds filled with highly charged electrons and protons.”
A hand shot up from the back of the room. “Mr. Stark, why don’t we see the aurora borealis where we live?”
“Good question,” he replied. “Who would like to take a stab at that one?”
No one immediately answered, so Alex raised her hand.
“Okay, Alex,” he said. “Obviously you’re ready to be a solar sleuth. Why don’t we see the aurora here?”
“For the aurora to extend this far south, the solar flare causing it would have to be very strong,” she replied. “It could happen, but I don’t think it’s occurred in recent history.”
“Very good, and you’re right,” praised Stark. “It hasn’t happened since we’ve been around, but it has happened before.” He turned to the blackboard and wrote 1859, then circled it.
“In 1859, the great geomagnetic storm, as they called it, hit the earth. There weren’t sophisticated instruments to record the magnitude of the solar flare that enveloped our northern hemisphere, but the auroras were so widespread and extraordinarily bright that they were seen as far south as Cuba and Hawaii.”
“So there is hope for us, right?” asked one of the students.
“Actually, let’s not hope for a repeat of the Carrington Event, as it’s now called,” replied Stark. “There were no electronics in 1859, but the telegraph operators certainly experienced the power of the sun. From coast to coast, telegraph wires exploded in sparks and the operators received electric shocks.”
Alex raised her hand after contemplating the enormity of what Stark just said. “What would happen if a solar flare like that hit our planet today?”
Stark placed his hands in his pockets and walked through the classroom with his head down. He paused to look through the classroom’s windows at the extraordinarily warm September day.
“If such a powerful burst were to hit the earth today, the energy could zap satellites, fry computer systems, and knock out our power grids. We would be welcomed back to the nineteenth century.”
Chapter 4
35 Hours
Noon, September 7
Ryman Residence
Belle Meade, Tennessee
“Mom, I’m comin’ to Siesta Key where it’s nice and cool,” said Madison Ryman as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. With the cordless phone propped against her shoulder, she turned on the television, and the graphic underneath the image of Meteorologist Davis Nolan at WKRN said it all—RECORD HEAT. She read the closed-captioning while her mother spoke into the phone. One hundred five degrees … ties a record set in 1954 … no end in sight.
“Of course we will, Mom. I miss you too. Love you.” Madison exhaled and glanced into the backyard at the rippling, crystal clear water in the pool. No time today. She started separating the bags of supplies picked up from Party City. The informal get-together Friday night was intended to celebrate Colton’s Super Bowl success and would be attended by a couple of dozen friends, neighbors, and business associates. Bobby Bones, a longtime family friend and one of the top on-air talents at WSIX, would be there. He would provide a never-ending supply of humor.
Bones introduced Colton to Madison sixteen years ago during a music video shoot on Second Avenue. At the time, Madison was a graduate student at Lipscomb University, studying film and creative media. Before her dad passed away, he convinced her that being a debutante wouldn’t pay the bills. Once the cotillions were over, it was time to get serious about her future. Lipscomb University provided her an outstanding, faith-based local university that was well respected in her chosen field—digital entertainment.
She loved producing videos. At the age of sixteen, she produced an indie film titled Diary of a Deb, which gained her an Independent Spirit Award nomination. She was proud of her efforts and entered college with the goal of becoming a filmmaker.
During the music video shoot, she snuck away to have lunch with Colton, and they began dating. He was everything she sought in a man, besides his incredible good looks. He was caring and compassionate. He was always honest with her. Above all, he made her laugh.
They were married in a modest ceremony at First Baptist Church in downtown Nashville and immediately started a family. Colton’s career at United Talent was taking off, and she tried to continue her job as a creative director for Ruckus Films. For a while, Madison’s mother helped out with Alex, but after her mom moved to Siesta Key, Madison focused her life on the things that mattered most—Colton and Alex. She never regretted that decision.
Madison focused on raising their adorable daughter and providing the logistical support, as she liked to call it, for Colton’s social engagements. His position at United Talent required entertaining and social gatherings. At least once a month, Madison was organizing a get-together in their Belle Meade home.
Friday night, the center of attention would be on Colton rather than his more famous clients for a change. Her iPhone vibrated on the counter. It was a text from Colton.
C: Miss you!
She smiled as she responded.
M: Miss you more! Call after the concert tonight. Love!
That was all it took—a simple text to remind Madison of how much he missed her. She knew how busy Colton was, especially today, the biggest day of his career. Yet Colton was thinking of her.
The landscape service arrived and began their work. Despite the incredible heat, the primarily Hispanic crew got right to it, and the sounds of mowers could be heard immediately. It was just another day.
Chapter 5
32 Hours
3:00 p.m., September 7
Davidson Academy
Nashville, Tennessee
Madison wheeled the Chevy Suburban toward the circle drive in front of Davidson Academy and patiently waited as other parents picked up their kids. Alex had a golf match tha
t afternoon, and she needed a change of clothes and her clubs. There were plenty of other schools closer to their home in Belle Meade, but Madison was willing to sacrifice her time for the sake of the best college preparatory education Alex could receive.
She turned on her SiriusXM radio to channel 161, which had resumed the simulcast of WSIX in Nashville. After a moment, she opted for the news instead and found Shepherd Smith on Fox.
“Aurora watchers will be pleased over the next few nights as our sun heats up,” said Smith. “With record heat waves across the country, the last thing we need is a fired-up sun, right, Janice Dean?”
“That’s right, Shep,” said Dean, the Fox News meteorologist. “As you know, I was born in Toronto, Canada, and started my career in Ottawa. Seeing the northern lights was not out of the ordinary for us. In Canada, we would forecast the weather here on earth, but we would also provide our viewers a space weather forecast based upon solar activity. I bet you didn’t realize I wore so many hats, did you?”
“I did not,” replied Smith. “Folks, this is why they call her Janice Dean the Weather Queen.”
“And don’t you forget it, Shep. From what I’ve seen, this solar event should create some incredible light displays along our northern border states and well into Maine. That’s pretty rare, Shep, and is an indicator of the potential strength of the solar flares emanating from the sun right now.”
“Thank you, Janice. Keep us posted. In any event, not to worry, folks. The Canadians will get the pretty light show and we’ll get more blistering heat. Same old, same old.”
Alex tapped on the window. Madison was lost in thought and didn’t realize her daughter was there, causing her to jump a little. She fumbled for the lock switch and relocked the doors before finally unlocking them.
