A QUIET REMEMBRANCE IN A VIRGINIA FIELD: At 78, Don Reid stood in silence at the edge of a Virginia field where, decades earlier, the Statler Brothers’ harmonies once filled the summer air. Beside him was Phil Balsley — the quiet anchor of the group — both men gazing at what had become less a venue and more a monument to memory. Harold Reid’s booming bass, Lew DeWitt’s tender tenor, and the countless songs that carried faith and family across America were now echoes. Don whispered, “We built something here. And it lasted.” His words were not prideful, but grateful — a recognition that the Statlers’ legacy was measured not only in awards but in the comfort and joy their music brought to millions. As the sun dipped low, the silence itself became their encore. In that quiet field, the harmony lived on — thinner now, but no less eternal.
Don Reid at 78: A Quiet Reflection in a Virginia Field At seventy-eight, Don Reid stood quietly at the edge…