It seems absurd that Ray Charles has died. It seemed like he was one who would always be around.

Charles, who seemed like three or four musicians rolled into one, died on June 11 at age 73. They called him “genius” because he could play you some soul, blues, jazz, rock, big-band style and even country on his piano or Hammond organ. His screaming, raspy voice could bring tears to your eyes. For more than 40 years, we bought his 45s, then LPs, then cassettes and finally CDs. If you wanted to get a party started, Mr. Charles was your man.

He had 32 different songs on the charts and hit number one with “Georgia” in 1960, “Hit the Road, Jack” in 1961 and “I Can’t Stop Loving You” in 1962.

It was the raucous “What’d I Say” that was the huge hit in 1959 that brought him his crossover success. But I always remembered his rendition of “Outskirts of Town” from about the same time.

I don’t know how many times (usually alone in the car) that I threw my head back and sang at the top of my lungs: “You said before we met, that your life was awful tame. But when I took you to a night club, the whole band knew your name.”

Charles had an absurdly tragic life, which seemed to fuel that gravelly voice. He was born dirt poor in Albany, Ga., in 1930. At age 5, while he still had sight, he watched his brother drown. By the time Charles was 7, he had lost his sight to glaucoma. Both parents died by the time he reached 15.

Luckily, there was a piano handy that Charles started playing at age 3. As a charity student, he studied classical music on the piano and clarinet. He started playing professionally with dance bands in Florida. By 1950, Charles had his own band, which was much too close to the smooth Nat King Cole. Charles had to find his own style, and did he ever.

You never missed Ray when he came through town. On the stage, Charles was always accompanied by the terminally slinky Raylettes, who would sing high harmony to contrast Charles’ moans and screams.

It was said at his passing that Charles was a phenomenon with women. He had 12 children. He could meet a woman, sing her a few lines from her favorite song, then disappear for the night with her. It’s no wonder. I knew a few guys that would have gone off with him.

For the music that became the background to our lives, we ignored the drug arrests at various airports. He struggled with a heroin addiction for 20 years and made more than one trip to rehabilitation. No matter how bad it got, there always was the music.

He told the Associated Press, “I’ve known times where I’ve felt terrible, but once I got on the stage and the band starts with the music, I don’t know why, but it’s like you have pain and you take an aspirin and you don’t feel it no more.”

Charles will be remembered for his appearance in the movie “The Blues Brothers.” Some say he stole the show, once again. Then he appeared in Pepsi ads, singing jingles, but he was always cool. Who else could have stepped over into country music in 1960 and kept his rock and blues fans? He was always cool.

You can play any of his songs now and they are as good as ever.

Charles told the Washington Post in 1983, “Music has been around for a long time and there’s going to be music long after Ray Charles is dead. I just want to make my mark.”

Mission accomplished, Mr. Charles.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.