My Near Brush with Bluegrass

editor — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 19:03:59 -0700

Aunt Lena Dotson, Earl Dotson (the author's father), and Uncle Frank Dotson on Jim's Fork, near Grundy, Virginia,
c. 1930
Photo: Courtesy of
B.L. Dotson-Lewis

I can’t remember a life without bluegrass music. It came with living in the Appalachian Mountains -- part of our roots, the way I understand it -- but I was never confronted head on with this acoustic music until my father took it up.

My family moved west while I was still in high school, and it didn't seem a big deal that I would stay behind with my sister and finish school in West Virginia. I was around 15. Like most teenagers I was heavy into listening to popular rock 'n' roll.

When my father moved to the west coast he refused to give up his Appalachian citizenship. His roots were in Jim's Fork, Buchanan County, Virginia, and, later, Nicholas County, West Virginia. I have heard my father say that he wasn't looking for a Western culture, he loved Appalachia. What the West could provide for him were taller mountains, bigger game and a closer relationship with nature. Born and raised in Southwest Virginia, my father's love for everything Appalachian, including mountain music -- especially bluegrass -- never left his veins.

Good Music, Tall Tales in 'Mayberry County'

editor — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 06:10:26 -0700

Marty and Greg Faiers tune up.

Photo: B. L. Dotson-Lewis

I decided to beat the heat by beating it out of town on Saturday, June 7, 2008. I set my GPS for 231 W Lebanon Street, Mt. Airy, North Carolina, Veterans Memorial Stadium. I was heading up to Aunt Bea and Andy Griffith country to cool my heels and take in some bluegrass and old time music at the 37th Annual Bluegrass and Old Time Fiddlers Convention held annually the first weekend in June.

The traffic dwindled and slowed the farther I traveled towards the blue hills. I tuned in my radio to 98.1, Blue Ridge Country, listening to Kenny Roger’s “I Feel Sorry for Anybody Who isn’t Me Tonight,” and Dolly Parton’s “ Nine to Five.” I already felt better.

My GPS told me to turn right at the Galax/Mt. Airy exit and turn right I did. I sped past Mayberry Mall drove a few miles and turned right a couple more times until I heard my little machine tell me I was “arriving at destination on right.”

I didn’t know what to expect. This was my first time and my first day. I was not able to attend the opening day Friday. According to the poster advertising the event, Veterans’ Field holds 3,000 vehicles. It was nearly full. So, the exorbitant gas prices deterred the bluegrass and old time musicians and fans? Apparently not.

By B. L. Dotson-Lewis

My Near Brush with Bluegrass

Good Music, Tall Tales in 'Mayberry County'