The Great Roger Miller Las Vegas Pawn Shop Shooting
by Maggie Van Ostrand
Roger Miller never slept. As his "roadie," it was my responsibility to sort of watch over him during the wee hours of the morning when he would wander the streets of the towns he performed in, looking for something, anything, to absorb his interest. Closest anyone ever came to keeping up with him, as far as I know, was Thumbs Carllile, Roger's brilliant guitarist. Kris Kristofferson once asked Thumbs "When does Roger sleep?" and Thumbs said, "Don't know. I've only been with him for three years."
I was with Roger one morning in a pawnshop about 3 or 4 a.m. , when he spotted an old Derringer in the glass showcase. "That loaded?" he asked the pawnbroker. "Nope," said the man, "It's imitation," as he took it out of the case and handed it over. Roger placed the tip of the barrel against the palm of his left hand and pulled the trigger with his right. BOOM!! Shot himself smack in the palm. Nonplussed at the big noise, gunpowder smell, and spurting blood, Roger calmly said, "This imitation bullet sure do hurt a lot."
Roger stared at his wounded hand, then said to the man, "Got something I kin catch this blood in? Better make it a shot glass."
We made a quick trip to the emergency hospital for help and for the next week or so onstage, Roger was physically unable to fiddle his closing number, "Orange Blossom Special." Instead, he entertained the audience with the story of the Las Vegas pawn shop shooting, topping it off with the removal of the wrappings on his injured hand. It was a real show stopper.
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