WKSK LIVE Old Time and Bluegrass Radio Show

Yesterday, my 7-year-old daughter and I headed north up 221 to check out the WKSK LIVE Old Time Bluegrass Radio Show. We tuned into WKSK AM on the way there, and the crackle of AM 580 was just what I needed to get stoked. I wonder if my daughter knows the difference between a radio show and a podcast streaming through my iPhone. Turning off the radio and rolling down the windows to hear the same music we were just listening to is a pretty rare experience these days. I think that helped her make the connection.

Sassafras was the opening band and we caught their set. I came to learn Sassafras is well known in this community and they've shared the stage with Deep Gap's own Doc Watson in the past.

I grew up going to local bluegrass with my Dad. Mostly they were in garages. We'd set up lawn chairs in the driveway while the band stood in front of the garage. I'm from just off the mountain down in Lexington, NC so not Appalachia technically but there is a ton of cultural overlap with that part of the state.

These are my people. The salt-of-the-earth, church-going, family-oriented, traditional folks that you think of when you think about rural North Carolina. I grew up with them and I loved it. Forgot to bring chairs (of course) so we decided to share a picnic table with a couple from Gastonia who had driven in for the show. The misty mountain start to the day was making everyone a little chilly but that's also partly what made it feel like Appalachia. After a few songs from Sassafras we were already hungry for lunch and hit the concession stand. It was a gold mine. Hotdog plates, BBQ sandwiches and a crew of men standing around a smoker working the meat. And a handwritten menu which was mostly different combinations of hotdogs, chips and BBQ.

We got a couple dogs served on paper plates with plain Ruffles chips dumped in a pile. I asked for slaw on my hotdog but received a pile of slaw on the side with no forks in sight. It was perfect. Desserts were even better. You had two options. A brownie or an individual banana nut bread loaf, each served in a sandwich bag clearly prepared by volunteers. We had the banana nut bread, which was only lacking in that they apparently used walnut flavoring instead of actual walnuts. For drinks, a bottle of water or a soft drink. We normally avoid soda but when you are at a fiddle convention and the choice is RC Cola (no Cokes), you get the RC Cola. We did. It was perfect.

After lunch my daughter wanted to check out the "Kids Zone," which was comprised of 3 stations to make musical instruments. She, of course, made all three. A drum, a pan flute and a tambourine. Some of it was honestly pretty meticulous to build but it was a great option to make sure she stayed entertained. The youth competition had started while we ate lunch, so the whole time I was trying to help her construct these masterpieces, there was an announcer in the background…."And now number 125 on the fiddle playing Old Time Fiddle."

Each youth contestant was assigned a number for the judges to use for scoring. I wasn't sure what Old Time Fiddle was. I'm still not 100% sure but from what I could tell, old-time is an older, more communal style and bluegrass is a little faster with more individual spotlight. I'm honestly not sure I could tell you the difference audibly but now that I know the conceptual nuances I'll try to listen for it.

"Number 105 playing Ode to Joy." For what seemed like an hour there was a rotation of youth competitors standing in front of the crowd with just their fiddle and a microphone. It's impressive to see an 8-year-old playing the fiddle but it's even more impressive to watch them do it on a stage, alone. And in front of a crowd of people with judges there to critique them. Proud families were sitting everywhere in fold-out chairs with drink holders. Some went next level with pop-up tents and furniture. One guy was literally soloing a blow-up couch ("Number 117, fine job"…every 5 minutes) over his head and through the crowd.

As we walked to the car I saw a group of kids either warming up or playing for fun (or both) at the edge of the woods on a small slab of concrete in flower skirts and boots. There was a banjo, a fiddle and a mandolin. And you know what I didn't see? A phone. These kids were not made to be there. They wanted to be. This is who they are and it's who their parents are. And almost certainly who their grandparents are. This is heritage and tradition. They played together. They took turns flatfoot dancing and it warmed my heart. Like a dandelion pushing its way through the pavement, these traditional instruments and songs refuse to be choked out by the modern world. It is events like these that truly make it special to live in The High Country.

If you missed it this year, go ahead and pencil this one in for 2027.