THE WILSON FAIRCHILD BAND PLAYS “MOMMA TRIED”
When Wil Reid and Langdon Reid, the duo better known as Wilson Fairchild, step onto a stage, they carry more than guitars and microphones. They carry history. As sons of Harold Reid and Don Reid of the Statler Brothers, their voices and their presence are steeped in the golden age of country and gospel harmony. And on a recent night, that heritage shone brightest when they delivered one of country music’s most enduring classics: Merle Haggard’s “Momma Tried.”
The moment began simply. A few opening chords strummed on an acoustic guitar. A steel guitar humming softly in the background. Then Wil’s voice cut through, rich and true, carrying the timeless line that has echoed across honky-tonks and festival grounds for more than half a century. From the very first lyric, the audience recognized what was coming and leaned in. By the time Langdon’s harmony joined, the song had already become a shared memory, connecting generations in a single refrain.
“Momma tried, Momma tried, Momma tried to raise me better…”
Written and recorded by Merle Haggard in 1968, “Momma Tried” is more than just a country hit. It is a confession, a testimony of regret, and a tribute to the enduring love of a mother whose prayers couldn’t keep her son from straying. Haggard, who spent time in San Quentin Prison before turning his life toward music, wrote it out of his own story. That authenticity turned the song into an anthem of rebellion and redemption — one of the defining works of the Bakersfield Sound and of Haggard’s storied career.
For Wilson Fairchild, singing “Momma Tried” is not an exercise in nostalgia but an act of respect. Raised in Staunton, Virginia, in the shadow of their fathers’ legendary careers, Wil and Langdon understand the responsibility of carrying forward country’s deepest traditions. They grew up backstage, watching the Statler Brothers sing gospel classics like “How Great Thou Art” and country standards like “Do You Know You Are My Sunshine.” Those experiences taught them not only how to perform but how to honor a song’s story.
That respect was evident as they moved through Haggard’s verses. They didn’t try to reinvent the wheel. There were no flashy arrangements or forced dramatics. Instead, they delivered the song the way Haggard himself might have wanted — straight, honest, and with the kind of conviction that makes a crowd pause.
The audience responded in kind. Some sang along quietly, mouthing the words as if remembering their own mothers. Others clapped their hands to the rhythm, moved by the simplicity of the performance. A few wiped away tears. It was a reminder that “Momma Tried” isn’t just Merle’s story; it is a universal one, speaking to anyone who has known failure, regret, or the unconditional love of a parent who never gave up.
As the chorus rang out one final time, the room seemed to swell with more than music. It carried echoes — of Merle Haggard on stages past, of the Statler Brothers harmonizing in their prime, of Sunday mornings and Saturday nights in small towns where country music wasn’t just entertainment but a way of life.
When the last note faded, the applause came not as a roar but as something warmer — the kind of heartfelt ovation given when people feel they’ve been part of something real. Wil and Langdon tipped their hats, smiled humbly, and nodded in quiet gratitude. For them, the moment was not about showing off their talent. It was about serving the song, carrying forward a story that will outlive them, as it has already outlived its author.
That is the beauty of Wilson Fairchild. They are not merely performers chasing trends or chart positions. They are heirs to a tradition — men who understand that the strength of country music lies in its honesty, its simplicity, and its roots. By singing “Momma Tried,” they proved that true country music doesn’t fade. It lives in the stories, in the harmonies, in the hearts of those who gather to listen.
And on that night, with two voices rising in reverence and a crowd joining in the chorus, Merle Haggard’s song lived again. Not just as a hit from the past, but as a prayer, a memory, and a reminder that the greatest music is not bound by time.