Fort Worth, TX — The sky was overcast, the Texas air heavy with late-summer humidity. Kelly Clarkson’s voice trembled as she described it: “That road… I will never forget.”
It was the narrow stretch of asphalt leading to the quiet funeral home where her late husband, Brandon Blackstock, lay — the place she had to walk alone just one day after his unexpected passing.
Clarkson, 43, opened up during a recent interview, sharing for the first time the details of those final moments of farewell. What began as a solemn, silent walk of mourning became something she says “changed the air completely” — a moment that shifted the weight of her grief in a way she never saw coming.
A Private Loss Made Public
For years, Clarkson and Blackstock’s marriage had been a subject of public curiosity, weathering both professional collaborations and a very public divorce in 2022. But in the last year, the two had quietly reconnected, finding common ground as co-parents and friends.
When Blackstock — a respected music manager and producer — died suddenly from a cardiac event, Clarkson says she was “shaken to the core.”
“We were in such a good place,” she told People. “To lose him right when we’d come through the hardest part of our story… it was cruel.”
The Walk to Goodbye
On the morning of the private family visitation, Clarkson arrived in Fort Worth with her children. The plan was to walk from the small family chapel on the grounds to the main building of the funeral home — a short, tree-lined road she’d driven countless times in her youth, but never noticed.
“I thought I’d just keep my head down and get through it,” she recalled. “You prepare yourself for silence, for the sound of your own feet.”
The path was lined with old oaks, their branches creating a tunnel of shade. The air smelled faintly of rain on asphalt. Every step felt heavier than the last.
Then, the Sound
Halfway down the road, Clarkson says she heard something faint. At first, she thought it was the wind moving through the trees. Then she realized — it was music.
From somewhere up ahead, the unmistakable sound of a lone trumpet began to drift toward her. It was soft, warm, and achingly familiar: the opening notes of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
“I stopped walking,” Clarkson said. “I just froze. It was my favorite song as a kid, and it was one of the first I ever sang in public. Brandon knew that. My kids know that.”
An Unplanned Gift
When she rounded the bend, Clarkson saw an elderly man in a crisp white shirt and a black hat standing just outside the funeral home’s gates. He wasn’t part of the service. He wasn’t a hired musician.
“I didn’t know him,” Clarkson said. “He told me later he was a retired music teacher from the high school nearby. He saw the service on the marquee, and something just told him to bring his horn and play.”
The man, whose name was Harold Jenkins, said simply: “I figured it couldn’t hurt to send someone off with a song.”
The Change in the Air
Clarkson says that moment shifted something deep inside her.
“The heaviness didn’t go away — grief doesn’t work like that — but the air changed. It was like the music opened a little window and let light in. For those few minutes, I felt held.”
Her children, River and Remington, walked the rest of the way beside her, holding her hands. “I could hear them humming along,” she remembered, “and I thought: maybe that’s what Brandon would’ve wanted — music instead of silence.”
Why That Song
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” had been part of Clarkson’s life long before fame. Growing up in Burleson, Texas, she sang it in elementary school talent shows. Years later, she performed it in early auditions, long before American Idol made her a household name.
“It’s a song about longing for something better, about hope,” she said. “And when you lose someone, hope can feel really far away. But in that moment, I could touch it again.”
Honoring the Moment
After the service, Clarkson found Harold still standing by the gates. She hugged him and asked if he would be willing to come inside and play the same song as guests exited. He agreed without hesitation.
“It felt right to let everyone walk out to that melody,” she said. “It was like giving them a soft landing after a hard goodbye.”
A Legacy of Music
In the weeks since Blackstock’s passing, Clarkson says she’s leaned heavily on music — both her own and others’ — to navigate the waves of grief.
She’s been recording stripped-down versions of songs that remind her of him, including “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, which she performed privately in her home studio as a gift to their children.
“Music has always been my way of talking when I can’t find the words,” she said. “That day in Fort Worth reminded me it’s also how other people can talk to you — even strangers.”
The Man with the Horn
Harold Jenkins, now 78, says he’s played his trumpet at weddings, funerals, and school recitals for decades, but never for someone as famous as Kelly Clarkson.
“I didn’t think about who she was,” he said. “I just thought about someone losing someone they love, and how a song can make you feel less alone.”
When told that Clarkson now considers that moment one of the most important gifts of her life, Harold grew quiet. “Well,” he said, “then I reckon I did something right.”
Moving Forward
Clarkson is taking a break from touring to focus on her children and her talk show, but she hints that the experience has already inspired new music. “I’m writing again,” she admitted. “And some of those songs are about loss, but they’re also about the strange ways love shows up when you need it most.”
She says she’s considering dedicating a future performance of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” to Harold and to Brandon’s memory.
The Road Remains
When Clarkson thinks back to that walk, the details are sharper now: the smell of rain, the creak of her shoes, the way the trumpet echoed off the oaks.
“That road is still sad to me,” she said. “But it’s also where something beautiful happened. I can’t separate the two anymore.”
She paused, then added: “And maybe that’s what grief is — carrying the sorrow and the beauty in the same place.”
Leave a Reply