Born on this day in suburban Philadelphia, singer and songwriter Jim Croce (1943–1973) carried a wide smile and wrote lyrics with aching honesty, clever wit, and remarkable beauty.

“People just want to hear good-time music,” Croce once said, though his songs often held something deeper, a tenderness that lingered long after the melody faded.

His tragic death in a plane crash in Natchitoches, Louisiana, came just as he had achieved enormous pop success, leaving the world with the ache of what might have been.

Fame took its time with Croce. Before breaking through with You Don’t Mess Around with Jim, he earned a psychology degree and worked a patchwork of jobs: coffeehouse singer, camp counselor, construction worker, truck driver, and remedial teacher.

Those lived experiences helped inspire songs rich with character and compassion, including the chart-topping Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.

“The jobs I’ve had attract characters,” Croce once said. And he gave those characters dignity, humor, and heart.

His music blended folk and rock with a gentle, unmistakably honest joy. These were songs meant to be sung together.

Asked how he would describe himself, Croce answered simply, “I’m just me, plain folk, just like everyone else.” His humility made him that much more special. A keen observer who sang with a big smile, his lyrics lightened and celebrated the human spirit.

His friend Don McLean said, “He was someone worth admiring because of his essential goodness. I miss him and think of him often.”