Randall Franks’s A Zippedy Doodle Day : Down Yonder Too

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A Zippedy Doodle Day : American Folk Songs

2026 Vocal Event of the Year Nominee

– The Josie Music Awards

AirPlay Direct Global Americana Single Charts April #6 & May #13!

Down Yonder Too

A Skillet Licker Centennial

Preserving the “Soul” of Appalachia
The arrangement is a dizzying, delightful mix of fiddle, harmonica, banjo, jug, and rich vocal harmonies. It captures that “Skillet Lickers” spirit—unrefined, rowdy, and technically brilliant—while layering in contemporary performances that breathe fresh air into the timeless Georgia melody.
Christian Lamitschka  Country Music News International Magazine
A centennial worth celebrating just got its soundtrack… “Down Yonder Too” is joyful, deeply rooted, and built with real reverence for what came before it.  That Eric Alper

The FIRST SINGLE RELEASE 

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Press Release

Randall Franks Unveils Centennial Single “Down Yonder Too” from Upcoming Album ‘A Zippedy Doodle Day: American Folk Songs’

Historic Track Pairs Georgia’s Legendary Fiddle Bands with Star-Studded Guests to Celebrate 100 Years of The Skillet Lickers

“Down Yonder Too” Features Dom Flemons, Jim Lauderdale, Ketch Secor, and Paul Puckett

Award-winning bluegrass and Americana artist, actor, and producer Randall Franks announces the release of the new single, “Down Yonder Too,” the debut track from the forthcoming charity album A Zippedy Doodle Day: American Folk Songs. The single commemorates the 100th anniversary of The Skillet Lickers, Georgia’s pioneering fiddle band formed in 1926, while honoring the legacy of Doodle and the Golden River Grass, widely recognized as one of the last traditional fiddle bands of country music’s early era.

Founded by Gid Tanner and Riley Puckett, The Skillet Lickers’ legacy continues through the Tanner family, carried on today by third-generation member Phil Tanner and his son, fourth-generation member Russ Tanner, while a fresh interpretation of the multi-million-selling classic “Down Yonder” blends archival elements with contemporary performances, creating a vibrant collaboration that bridges generations of Appalachian music.

The track features an all-star lineup including Dom Flemons, Jim Lauderdale, Ketch Secor, and Paul Puckett, alongside Franks, and layered with fiddle, harmonica, banjo, jug, and rich vocal performances, “Down Yonder Too” honors traditional string band roots while bringing renewed energy to a timeless sound.

To view the video for “Down Yonder Too,” scroll to the bottom of the page.

“This project is about preserving the soul of Appalachian music and ensuring its future,” said Franks. “By uniting The Skillet Lickers’ groundbreaking spirit with Doodle’s infectious energy and these incredible guests, we’re celebrating 100 years of innovation in string band traditions. It’s ‘A Zippedy Doodle Day’ indeed—full of joy, history, and collaboration.”

The single also highlights the album’s broader mission to honor John “Doodle” Thrower (1929–1994) and his band, James Watson, Gene Daniell, Wesley Clackum, and Randall Franks, known for their spirited performances, humor, and appearances at major events including the 1982 World’s Fair, National Folk Festivals, and PBS specials. Proceeds from the album and its accompanying documentary will benefit the Share America Foundation, providing scholarships for aspiring Appalachian musicians, as well as the West Georgia Museum for historical preservation.

The full album features a wide range of contributors including Bruce Boxleitner, Gena Britt, Wyatt Ellis, Daniel Grindstaff, Marty Hays, Dale Houston, The Marksmen, Alex Miller, Lee Newton, Kody Norris, Ronnie & Justin Reno, Ralph Stanley II, Larry Stephenson, Derek Stone, Leroy Troy, and more, all donating their talents to support this charitable endeavor.

In celebration of the release, Franks and the Share America Foundation are launching the 5,000 Download Challenge, inviting fans to help fund Appalachian music scholarships by supporting the single on digital platforms.

An accompanying documentary, directed by Franks, will further explore the legacy of Doodle and the Golden River Grass through archival footage, interviews, and performances.

AirPlay Direct

“Down Yonder Too” is available to radio on AirPlay Direct at https://app.airplaydirect.com/music/RandallFranksAZippedyDoodleDay/.

 

THE SINGLE

About the history of Down Yonder

The uniqueness of the American Folk Songbook lies in its ability to incorporate tunes from every facet of the American experience and re-imagine them into new settings where the songs seem to have always been there. “Down Yonder” was a tune that permeated from fiddler to fiddler and musician to musician, starting as vaudeville number penned by Tin Pan Alley songwriter L. Wolfe Gilbert. It was introduced in 1921 at the Orpheum Theater in New Orleans and recorded early on with vocals by the Peerless Quartet and Ernest Hare & Billy Jones. It became an instrumental staple in the early fiddle bands of Appalachia and the South, such as the Scottdale String Band and Gid Tanner & His Skillet Lickers. Gordon Tanner’s 1934 performance with his father Gid and the Skillet Lickers became a million-seller, earning gold disc status and cementing the tune’s place in country music history. Ragtime pianist Del Wood gave it a newfound audience in 1951; her lively honky-tonk instrumental spent 25 weeks on the Billboard pop charts, peaking at #4, and sold over a million copies, earning her widespread fame and a long-running spot on the Grand Ole Opry. Bluegrass, folk, and country musicians continue to foster the tune, sharing it in recordings, jam sessions, and concerts to this day. Adding to its rich story for the Skillet Lickers Centennial, a fresh chapter unfolds with “Down Yonder Too”—a new version by Doodle and the Golden River Grass featuring The Skillet Lickers (with Paul Puckett), Dom Flemons, Randall Franks, Jim Lauderdale, and Ketch Secor. This collaborative recording includes brand-new lyrics penned by Franks and performed by Randall and Jim, blending the tune’s timeless spirit with contemporary voices to honor the legacy while raising funds for Appalachian music scholarships through the charity album A Zippedy Doodle Day : American Folk Songs.

01) – Doodle and the Golden River Grass & Randall Franks – Down Yonder Too (4:22)

Featuring The Skillet Lickers with Paul Puckett, Dom Flemons, Jim Lauderdale, and Ketch Secor

Share America Foundation, Inc. – Crimson Records

Featured Perfomers:

The Skillet Lickers : Vocals,

(Phil Tanner – Guitar and Russ Tanner – Fiddle)

Dom Flemons : Jug

Randall Franks : Vocals, Fiddle

Jim Lauderdale : Vocals

Paul Puckett : Guitar

Ketch Secor : Fiddle

Doodle and the Golden River Grass:

Doodle Thrower: Harmonica and Vocals

James Watson: Clawhammer Banjo

Gene Daniell: Acoustic Bass

Wesley Clackum: Acoustic Guitar and Vocals

Randall Franks: Fiddle

About Doodle and the Golden River Grass

Doodle and the Golden River Grass was an Appalachian folk and fiddle band formed in 1963 in Tallapoosa, Georgia, celebrated for their upbeat square dance tunes, comedy, and appearances at events like the 1982 World’s Fair and PBS specials. Led by John “Doodle” Thrower (1929-1994) on harmonica, the band featured members such as James Watson (1935-2017) on clawhammer banjo, C.J. Clackum on guitar, Wesley Clackum on guitar and mandolin, Gene Daniell on bass, Lynn Elliott on guitar, Steve Hesterlee on banjo, and fiddlers including Seals Hicks, Bill Kee, Paul Wallace, Jerry Wesley, and Randall Franks.

Their music was released on 17 albums and were described by folklorist Alan Lomax as “mountain music in overdrive,” preserving Georgia’s fiddle band tradition. No dedicated website exists, but they are featured extensively on www.randallfranks.com/A-Zippedy-Doodle-Day/ .

About Randall Franks

Randall Franks is an award-winning bluegrass, Americana, and country musician, fiddler, actor, and philanthropist best known for his role as Officer Randy Goode on the TV series In the Heat of the Night. With a career spanning over 48 years, he has released 26 albums, and been inducted into multiple music halls of fame and is honored as an International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame and Museum Legend. Franks is dedicated to preserving Appalachian musical heritage through his work with the Share America Foundation, supporting scholarships for young musicians. Website: www.randallfranks.com.

About The Skillet Lickers

The Skillet Lickers are a groundbreaking old-time string band formed in 1926 in Georgia, renowned for their energetic recordings and influence on early country music, including hits like “Down Yonder.” The original 1926 members included Gid Tanner (fiddle and vocals), Riley Puckett (guitar and vocals), Clayton McMichen (fiddle), and Fate Norris (banjo and harmonica), with later additions such as Bert Layne (fiddle), Lowe Stokes (fiddle), and Ted Hawkins (mandolin). The band’s legacy spans generations, and current members include Phil Tanner, Russ Tanner (both fiddlers and descendants of Gid Tanner), Joel Aderhold, Brian Stephens, and Brian Morgan who continue performing traditional string band music. The group is planning many special events marking its Centennial Year.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/skilletlickers

 

Phil Tanner (Third Generation Skillet Licker, grandson of Gid Tanner)

Phil Tanner

“I think there were a lot of the same qualities in both bands – The Skillet Lickers and Doodle and the Golden River Grass. A lot of rambunctious, joyful music that wanted to make people want to dance and laugh and have a good time. One thing I remember about Doodle is he gave a lot of recognition to my grandfather – Gid. He said he was a big influence on his style. It may have been because my grandfather was a comedian more or less – an entertainer. Doodle was just that. He was an entertainer.”

Russ Tanner

Russ Tanner (Fourth Generation Skillet Licker, whose grandfather Gordon fiddled Down Yonder on the multi million seller from 1934)

“What made (The Skillet Lickers) stand out is a lot of times you had two, maybe three fiddles in there. They just had a different approach from a lot of folks you listened to. With two or three fiddles, they played pretty free and wild and open. You got the impression they were all around the mic having a great time. They really were.”

 

 

 

About Dom Flemons

Dom Flemons, dubbed “The American Songster,” is a multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and music historian specializing in old-time folk, Piedmont blues, and African-American musical traditions, with expertise on banjo, guitar, harmonica, bones, quills, and more. A founding member of the Grammy-winning Carolina Chocolate Drops, he has released solo albums like Black Cowboys (a Smithsonian artifact) and earned multiple Grammy and Emmy nominations for his scholarly and performative work preserving American roots music.

Flemons is also an actor, podcaster, and slam poet. Website: www.theamericansongster.com.

Dom Flemons (GRAMMY Winner)

“When playing “Down Yonder” I decided to add the sound of the stone mason jug to

Dom Flemons

the occasion. While at times it has been seen as a novelty, the jug draws upon a vibrant tradition that spans from the early African American jug bands that emerged in the early 20th going up the Mississippi River from Memphis and Kentucky up to Cincinnati, Illinois and Iowa to numerous mountain music and country and western groups from all over the South. Jug bands have also survived up to the present through the jug bands of the sixties who would take it into the rock ‘n’ roll era and beyond. A tune like “Down Yonder” gives plenty of space for the sound the jug to “fall in” and join the free form polyphonic syncopation and improvisation that defines the type of string band music that folks have loved for generations. When I heard Phil Tanner of the Skillet Lickers say, “Let’s Go Down Yonder”, I dug in my heels and let ‘er go. Thanks so much to Randall Franks for having me be a part of those wonderful and I hope everyone will enjoy the good cheer created by Doodle and the band! “

About Jim Lauderdale

Jim Lauderdale is a prolific Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and musician in country, bluegrass, and Americana, with over 31 studio albums released since 1986 and songwriting credits for artists like George Strait and Patty Loveless. Born in North Carolina, he has been a key figure in the Americana music scene, hosting the Americana Music Awards and blending roots influences in his work. Lauderdale’s career highlights include collaborations across genres and a reputation as “Mr. Americana.” Website: www.jimlauderdalemusic.com.

Jim Lauderdale (Two-time GRAMMY Winner)

Jim Lauderdale

Jim Lauderdale said he was really impressed by the music of Doodle and the Golden River Grass and the unique harmonica stylings of Doodle – “It is really hard to play that single note harmonica style and Doodle could really Ace it.”

“This old timey style is really going back to the roots. I guess first popularized on the Bristol sessions and today it still influences so many people,” Jim Lauderdale said. “You can see where bluegrass came from which led to so many other things. It’s a real honor to be part of this project. This kind of music needs to stay out there – vibrant and alive and I think this is going to help that.”

 

About Paul Puckett

Paul Puckett is a country musician who performed on banjo and guitar beginning in the late 1960s. Paul Puckett and the Dixie Blues opened for artists such as Loretta Lynn, Conway Twitty, Jerry Lee Lewis. Merle Haggard, Roy Drusky, the Osborne Brothers, and Hank Williams, Jr. While serving in the U.S. Army, Paul and his wife Joni Puckett performed on the Ed Sullivan Show Armed Forces Music Festival with Roy Clark and Jeannie C. Riley, and made appearances with Country Gentlemen and others.

He found success with his band for many years in hotels and restaurants in

Virginia, Washington, D.C., Maryland and Georgia, often partnering with his wife and talents such as Speedy Price. Oftentimes his shows included regular celebrity attendees such as

actors Robert Goulet, Ken Berry, Donald O’Connor, athlete Pete Rose and producer Hal Needham.

Musician Jack Eubanks produced his 1974 album “Riders in the Sky” on TAD Records including musicians Willie Rainsford, Leo Jackson and D.J. Fontana. Paul is recognized for his contributions to the genre and was inducted into the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame in 2007. He performed on the initial Atlanta Country Hall of Fame Awards presenting Riley Puckett’s induction to his widow Blanche.

Paul Puckett (Country Singer)

Paul Puckett said growing up in Georgia as a musical Puckett always led to questions about Skillet Licker star Riley Puckett.

“Riley Puckett was one of the very early stars of country music who started in 1922 on WSB radio, he said. “Riley, Gid Tanner, Fiddlin’ John Carson were some outstanding members of the music world. I have been interested in Georgia fiddle music ever since the early 1960s when bluegrass festivals were beginning in the South.”

He added one of his greatest honors was inducting Riley into the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame and presenting the honor to his widow – Blanche in 1982.

About Ketch Secor

Ketch Secor is a Grammy-winning singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist best known as the founder and front man of Old Crow Medicine Show since 1998, co-writing hits like the double-platinum “Wagon Wheel” and helping pioneer the Americana revival. His work spans high-energy performances blending folk, bluegrass, and country, and he is also a children’s author, music educator, and advocate for arts programs. Secor was inducted into the Grand Ole Opry with his band in 2013. Website: www.ketchsecor.com (band website: www.crowmedicine.com).

Ketch Secor

Ketch Secor of the Old Crow Medicine Show (Grand Ole Opry Star and GRAMMY Winner)

“I just love Georgia fiddle music. It’s the best especially those great fiddlers from The Skillet Lickers and all that great North Georgia long bow style. There’s nothing finer – old Gid Tanner, Fate Norris and all the rest.”

Songwriters: Randall Franks Publisher & PRO: Peach Picked Publishing/BMI

See The Video

On YouTube

On Rumble

 

About Share America Foundation, Inc.
The Share America Foundation, Inc., founded in 2006 by Randall Franks, is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving Appalachian musical heritage and supporting young artists through scholarships and educational programs. It’s board members include Chairman Gary Knowles, Vice Chairman John Brinsfield, Secretary James Pelt, Vice President Jerry Robinson, Sr. and President Randall Franks

For more, visit www.shareamericafoundation.org.

We will share details of other classic folk songs as each is completed. Stay tuned for updates on this growing American Songbook contribution at A Zippedy Doodle Day!

Thank you to 2911 Media and Scott Sexton for being a great part of this adventure in American Music

From A Century of Strings: Randall Franks and an All-Star Cast Bridge Generations on “Down Yonder Too” By Christian Lamitschka for Country Music News International Magazine
Preserving the “Soul” of Appalachia
The arrangement is a dizzying, delightful mix of fiddle, harmonica, banjo, jug, and rich vocal harmonies. It captures that “Skillet Lickers” spirit—unrefined, rowdy, and technically brilliant—while layering in contemporary performances that breathe fresh air into the timeless Georgia melody.
This project is about much more than just a catchy fiddle tune. It is the centerpiece of a broader mission to honor the memory of John “Doodle” Thrower (1929–1994). Doodle and his band were staples of American folk culture, appearing everywhere from PBS specials to the 1982 World’s Fair.
“Down Yonder Too” is a rare piece of media that succeeds as both entertainment and education. It’s rowdy, it’s sentimental, and it’s deeply rooted in the red clay of Georgia. For anyone who appreciates the history of the fiddle or the grit of traditional string bands, this track is an essential listen.

With their help these are some of the international outlets spreading the word that we’ve learned about:

No man is an island: The lasting effect of friends

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John Donne wrote, centuries ago, “No man is an island.”

Sometimes I catch myself living as though I were one anyway.

If we are lucky we surround ourselves with family, friends, and acquaintances. Yet how often do we truly belong to one another? Some of us seldom leave the self-imposed exile of our personal islands long enough to share a sunset, a walk on the beach, or the sight of a kite snapping in the sea breeze.

When I stand before the mirror, the man looking back at me is no longer the little boy who once stood there. I wonder: Did the choices I made widen his world, or did they simply add another layer of sand to the shoreline of his isolation? Have I built bridges to the mainland, or have I merely reinforced the water around me?

Life has a way of answering that question when we least expect it. A note arrives, a memory surfaces, a few words on a screen remind us that Donne was right: no matter how isolated we try to become, we remain part of the main.

Years ago the connections came by letter and long phone calls. Today our islands come equipped with an umbilical cord called the internet. I can scroll through the status updates of hundreds of “friends” without ever speaking to a soul. The illusion of connection is effortless — and sometimes genuinely helpful. Not long ago a childhood friend posted a simple message wishing to right some old, perceived wrongs and wipe the slate clean. In minutes we were talking again after decades of silence.

So the technology can build bridges. But it can also keep us staring at screens instead of looking into one another’s faces. We trade handshakes for heart emojis, shared laughter for shared posts. That is a tremendous loss.

In the end, friends — real, present, flesh-and-blood friends — are what pull us off our islands and onto the continent Donne described. Their lasting effect is not measured in likes or follows. It is measured in the simple, irreplaceable moments when we stand together on the same patch of sand, watching the same kite dance against the sky.

Read more from Randall Franks in his Encouragers book series.

Frankly Speaking : Thoughts on This and That

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ORDER TODAY!

Step onto a sunlit Southern porch and settle into a rocking chair overlooking misty Georgia mountains at golden sunrise.
In Frankly Speaking: Thoughts on This and That, Randall Franks — one of America’s favorite TV cops (“Officer Randy Goode” from In the Heat of the Night) and beloved country entertainer — shares warm, encouraging columns on life’s simple joys, fading traditions, family bonds, civility, faith, and modern wonders.
With Southern charm, gentle humor, and timeless wisdom drawn from his Appalachian roots and star-studded career, these reflective essays remind us to slow down, lift burdens, cherish memories, and find hope in the everyday. Beautifully illustrated and paired with inspiring scriptures, this collection is perfect for anyone seeking wholesome inspiration, nostalgia, and heartfelt encouragement.

The 204-page soft-cover includes 53 columns, 31 personal photos (many never seen before), 21 original Americana illustrations, and 31 Bible scriptures (KJV).

 

Order other books at Randall Franks Store 

Learn more about Randall’s writings at Author 

What’s Next? A Question Fuels a Lifetime of Achievement

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I can still remember standing in the doorway of the kitchen as a young boy, watching my mother tackle one business project after another from the kitchen table which served as he desk. She moved with purpose and quiet intensity—papers spread across the table, phone pressed to her ear, always thinking several steps ahead. The moment she completed one task, she would barely pause before saying with renewed energy, “What’s Next?”

In many respects, that simple question has shaped my entire life and career. I finish one task, complete one project, or reach a significant goal, then almost immediately refocus my attention on whatever challenge or opportunity lies ahead.

By moving steadily from endeavor to endeavor while always keeping our eyes fixed forward, we can achieve far more than we ever thought possible. Success becomes less a final destination and more a series of stepping stones leading to something greater.

Many people, however, choose to rest upon the completion of their objectives. They spend days, weeks, or even longer looking back, reliving and recounting their victories. Celebration and gratitude are healthy and necessary—but only if they remain a moment, not a lifestyle. It’s remarkably easy to let past successes quietly erode our forward momentum. We become emotionally attached to the ways we’ve always done things, much like a runner who keeps glancing back at the competitors instead of focusing on the finish line ahead. Markets evolve. Technology advances. Customer needs and expectations shift. Without the discipline to keep asking “What’s Next?”, it’s all too easy to become stagnant.

What’s Next?

The answer might be: I need to honestly re-evaluate why the latest project did not surpass the success of an earlier one. What lessons went unlearned? Where did complacency creep in? This kind of fearless reflection turns yesterday’s results into tomorrow’s fuel.

What’s Next?

The answer might be: I should chart a bold new path—one that brings us closer to achieving a goal we never even dared to imagine possible. One that stretches our capabilities and inspires everyone around us.

What’s Next?

The answer might be: I simply need to pause each evening and ask myself the same question my mother lived by, then take one small step in that direction.

God grants each of us the ability to imagine it, the will to strive toward it, and the hope to achieve it. The real question is whether we will have the courage to keep asking, even when the path feels uncertain.

I pray that your “it”—whatever goal or calling stirs in your heart right now—enlightens, emboldens, and uplifts the world, and that it gives fresh courage to all of us who continue to wonder, “What’s Next?”

Read more about Randall’s life in Encouragers I, II, and III.

Beneath Leaves: Finding Renewal When Worry Piles High

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There are seasons in life when worries, sorrows, fears, and quiet depressions gather like autumn leaves drifting from the branches. One by one they fall— a health scare, a strained relationship, financial strain, the ache of loneliness, or simply the relentless news of the world—until they form a thick, damp blanket over the ground. The roots that once fed our soul, drawing nourishment from faith, friendship, purpose, and simple joys, lie hidden beneath. In that shadowed place, it becomes hard to see daylight, harder still to believe spring will ever return.

Even the markers of renewal can feel distant or mocking. Easter arrives with its promise of resurrection and families gathering around tables laden with ham, dyed eggs, and laughter. Spring unfurls tender green shoots and birdsong. For many, these are moments of uplift. Yet for others, they add another layer to the pile: the contrast between outward celebration and inward heaviness only presses the leaves down more tightly. The beauty meant to heal can sometimes underscore how far we feel from blooming ourselves.

I wish the remedy were as straightforward as stepping into sunshine and saying, “It’s a beautiful day—grab a rake, clear the debris, and let the flowers push through.” In truth, I’ve tried that approach more times than I can count. A brisk walk, a forced smile, a playlist of upbeat songs—sometimes they shift the mood for an hour or two. But when the weight has settled long enough, the potential beneath begins to wither. The soul’s tender shoots, starved of light and air, curl inward. What was once vibrant growth risks becoming brittle and dry.

In my own lowest seasons, I’ve learned there is no quick sweep of the rake that suffices. Instead, the way forward is to reach deeper—down through the layers, straight to the roots themselves.

For me, those roots are twofold. First, the living Word of God, which has been the steady food of my spirit since I first opened a Bible as a youth. When sadness clouds everything, I don’t always feel like reading, but I do it anyway—sometimes just a single Psalm, or a few verses from Isaiah promising that God gives strength to the weary. I read slowly, letting the words sink in like rain after drought. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Those aren’t abstract platitudes when you’re buried; they become oxygen.

The second root is people—the ones who care about me, and the ones who need care. Isolation feeds the pile; connection scatters it.

I remember one November a few years back when grief over a family loss had me retreating inward for weeks. The leaves felt suffocating. One Saturday, almost on autopilot, I answered a call from a friend who was in the hospital. I thought he might need someone to talk with so I went, to listen and pass the time. We talked for hours—mostly him talking, me listening.

Driving home that night, something shifted. My own sorrow hadn’t vanished, but it occupied less space. In the mirror of his pain, mine looked smaller—not diminished in importance, but placed in perspective. Helping him didn’t erase my burden; it redistributed the weight. I breathed more easily, as though a few leaves had been lifted away.

That pattern has repeated itself since. When worry permeates every moment, threatening to steal my breath, I step toward someone else’s need. A phone call to check on an elderly friend. Volunteering at the food pantry. Listening to an acquaintance who’s struggling. Each small act of reaching out reminds me I’m not alone in the hole—and sometimes, in joining others to dig, I find my own hands pulling me upward.

It’s counter intuitive: when you feel most trapped, the path to freedom often lies in helping set someone else free. The effort required to encourage, to serve, to show up replaces suffocating rumination with purposeful motion. Problems that loomed gigantic shrink when held next to another’s hardship. Kindness becomes the wind that scatters leaves.

Of course, this isn’t a cure-all. Some burdens require professional help—and seeking it is itself an act of courage and connection. Nor does reaching out magically dissolve every worry. But it does lighten the load enough to glimpse daylight again.

So if the pile feels heavy this season, don’t wait for the wind to do the work. Head to the shed—or the hardware store—and pick up that rake. Better yet, grab a shovel too. Start clearing space around you: a conversation, a kind deed, a verse that speaks directly to your heart. Root yourself deeper in God’s promises and in the lives of those around you.

In time, you may notice the first green shoots breaking through. Hope, fragile at first, begins to rise. Kindness takes root. Enthusiasm stirs. The very act of tending others’ gardens revives your own.

Spring always comes. Sometimes we just need to rake away what’s covering it—and in helping others uncover their light, we rediscover ours.

Read more of Randall’s work in Seeing Faith : A Devotional.

May Your Days Be Many and Your Painful Moments Few

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There are many times in my life when I have searched for the reason someone I care about becomes ill or suffers through a series of events.

I have sat by the bedside, watching tubes connected to a loved one’s body, and seen people struggle to find a new normal after a health crisis.

I have witnessed the emotional anguish when relationships and family issues inflict such pain that “suffering” is the only word that fits.

Often we look to God and cry, “Why? They are so good. They give in so many ways. Why do they have to suffer?”Then I remember: suffering is simply part of the human condition. It does not matter how good or how flawed we are. Suffering comes when it comes.Although our own choices can certainly bring self-inflicted pain, everyone receives a portion of hardship at some point — through heartache, illness, sudden accident, loss, or even the simplest of occurrences.The real question is how we handle it. Do we wallow in the suffering? Do we use it to evoke sympathy and feed a sense of entitlement?

We all carry a piece of the same heavy stone — the one life forces us to pound our days against until it yields pain. Some manage to lay it down and walk on. Others carry it with them every day.

Should we suffer gracefully? Is that even possible? I believe it is — for some. I have watched people endure devastating circumstances with the strength of steel, emerging stronger on the other side.I have also seen others face death with quiet dignity, trying to lighten the burden for those they leave behind.

Do my sufferings compare to yours? Never let yourself be drawn into that conversation. When someone is hurting, lift their load if you can, and encourage them to keep moving rather than measuring pain against pain. Hopefully they will not feel the need to pass their stone on to someone else.

Our calling is to uplift those who cross our path — but never to enable self-pity to swallow them whole.

Does God play a role in these experiences? Some blame Him when life turns cruel. Others reach for Him in the fiercest storm. For me, I can only say that when I seek Him in my darkest moments, He meets me with comfort in His perfect time.

The answer, if it is to be found at all, must be discovered within each of us as we walk through what life — and love — places before us.

I pray your days be many and your painful moments few.

Read more from Randall in Seeing Faith : A Devotional or other books in the store

Frontier Guardians : A Legacy of Patriot Sacrifice

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In the quiet hills of Ottway, Greene County, Tennessee, the small Malone Cemetery guards a powerful story of generational sacrifice. Here lie two Revolutionary-era veterans: John Joseph Malone Sr. (1724–1783) and his son, John Malone Jr. (1752–1823). Father and son, buried side by side, their graves mark not just a family plot, but a testament to the raw courage that secured America’s western frontier.
John Joseph Malone Sr.’s path to patriotism began in Somerset County, Maryland, where he was born and raised a family with wife Sarah Hart. As colonial tensions simmered, he saw early militia duty in Maryland: in 1757 or 1758, he served in Captain Thomas Norris’ Company, with payment delayed until 1767 (£1 10s for 30 days of attendance). Before long, the pull of western lands drew him southward. By 1774, records place him—and remarkably, his young adult son—in the thick of Lord Dunmore’s War, a brutal prelude to the Revolution.
Serving together in Captain David Looney’s Company of Virginia militia (from Fincastle County), the Malones helped defend settlers against Shawnee raids over the Ohio Valley. Their unit was assigned to guard the Clinch River frontier, patrolling under Lieutenants Daniel Boone, Gilbert Christian, and John Cox to protect settlements while the main Virginia forces engaged elsewhere.
Notably, John Sr.’s other sons, William (b. ~1759) and George (b. ~1760), also served in this conflict, contributing to the family’s collective defense efforts.
The broader war exploded on October 10, 1774, at the Battle of Point Pleasant—a thunderous clash at the confluence of the Ohio and Kanawha Rivers. In foggy dawn light, Chief Cornstalk’s 300–500 warriors attempted a surprise assault on Colonel Andrew Lewis’s 1,100 Virginians. What followed was a ferocious all-day fight: rifle fire cracking through the trees, warriors shouting war cries from concealed positions, militiamen holding lines in desperate hand-to-hand combat.Cornstalk himself rallied his men with the legendary cry, “Be strong! Be strong!” Yet the Virginians prevailed, though at grievous cost—75 killed and 140 wounded in what some called the bloodiest frontier battle against Native forces. The victory forced a treaty opening Kentucky to settlement and stoked revolutionary fires against British policies seen as favoring Native allies.
By the mid-1770s, the Malones had migrated to the Holston River settlements (future eastern Tennessee). In 1775, a John Malone (likely Sr. or Jr.) appeared in Captain George Matthews’ Company from Augusta County, Virginia, amid escalating patriot mobilizations.
In 1777, John Sr. joined fellow settlers in signing a bold petition affirming patriot loyalty and seeking North Carolina’s protection amid Tory and Cherokee threats. Throughout the Revolutionary War, his service shifted to vital local defense: scouting raids, guarding forts, and holding the volatile frontier where British-incited attacks nearly unraveled the southern cause.
Evoking the rugged riflemen of the 1770s backcountry—ordinary farmers like Malone, armed with long rifles and unyielding resolve.
Malone did not live to see final victory, dying in 1783—the year peace was signed—and resting in the cemetery that bears his name. His son, also a veteran, joined him decades later. Both received postwar land grants for their service.
Though not always listed in early official DAR rolls, their patriot status endures through grave markers, militia records (including those qualifying some descendants for modern SAR/DAR membership), and family tradition.
In an era of Yorktown glory, the Malones remind us: Liberty was won in forgotten riverbank battles and watchful frontier nights, often by fathers and sons standing together.
As America’s 250th anniversary nears, stories like this call us to remember the hidden heroes in our own family trees. Who fought unseen in yours?
Read more about his family in A Mountain Pearl : Appalachian Reminiscing and Recipes available at www.RandallFranks.com/Store .
John Joseph Malone, Sr. is the maternal sixth great grandfather of the author.

Loving Beyond Measure : Being There When It Matters Most

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Some of the most difficult times to watch are when someone we know is trying to be there for a loved one who is coming to the end of their journey. As I think back through the years, I remember watching my parents as they reached out to support friends or relatives in such times.

If the loved one was elsewhere, they would close up the business, and off they’d go for an undetermined amount of time to just be present. There to be called upon if needed for an extra pair of hands and legs to: run errands, do day-to-day tasks, cook, or just simply sit, talk, laugh, console, remember, and pray.

I saw my parents do this time and time again. I know they drew no financial benefit from what they were doing. Their only reward was in knowing they were serving Christ with their actions.

Sometimes their presence reached beyond the caregivers to the patient, and I know that brought peace over each of them when they knew they had comforted someone as they prepared to cross over.

As a small boy, I watched this routine many times as they said goodbye to former co-workers, neighbors, and friends from throughout their lives, and of course, relatives of every description who had impacted them. I vaguely remember one period in my childhood when I felt I was spending more time in hospitals and funeral homes than at school, but death comes at God’s appointment, not on our timetables.

I am now at a similar point in my life, as they were when they were saying goodbye to so many. So, I have become readily cognizant that, like my folks, many of those I know are being called—some old, some young—but it seems to happen more with every passing year. As I reflect on what I can I do to support their loved ones, I think back on the model that my parents gave me. I try to simply be present whenever possible to offer support and help them walk down the path I have already walked. I know that hope, comfort, and strength should be offered along the path, and I only pray that I can be an instrument to provide some aspect of these to all concerned along the final journey.

Most of us know someone who is facing this point in life. What are you doing to support them and their circle of caregivers? I encourage you to find some way to make a difference; you may be able to leave a message of love that changes a life forever and passes a legacy of love to your children as they see how you help others in a time of life we all must face.

Read more of Randall’s writings in Seeing Faith : A Devotional .

Dirt Road Wisdom: The Gift of Grandparental Grace

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THIS COLUMN MARKS THE OUR 25TH ANNIVERSARY IN SOUTHERN STYLE

“Thank you for all the years of allowing me to share my thoughts with you!” Randall Franks

As I stumbled along the dirt road, I would occasionally reach up and slip my hand into Grandpa Jesse‘s. When an independent streak struck, I would pull it back, managing my steps all on my own—at least for a few feet—before repeating the process once again.
No matter what I did, I could look up into his face and see a smile beaming back at me. What an amazing gift is the special bond that grows between a loving grandparent and a grandchild.
They can give so much love, and many—like mine—had the desire to share a lifetime of experience. I thank God that mine gave me the insights at a young age to listen and learn.
I think one of the greatest lessons shared with me was how to handle yourself when you realize you’ve wronged someone. It could be as simple as a misunderstanding or as serious as a downright disagreement.
From their example, I saw that one should admit a mistake and apologize to move the relationship forward. If you’re the injured party, take the first step: express your concerns and give the other person an easy opportunity to make amends.
If they choose not to, then you’ve done all you can to mend the fences.
Unfortunately, folks aren’t always in the same place at the same time.
Although Christianity teaches us to forgive, that’s an area where I’ve seen loved ones and friends struggle throughout my life.
I struggle with it myself. Oftentimes, I fall back on hardened lessons passed down through generations, rooted in centuries of tribal or clan conflicts and feuds.
I’ve watched loving, caring people—who would give you the shirt off their back—get up on their hind legs and growl when a situation involved an ancestral enemy, an ostracized family member, or a former friend.
While I received these lessons through oral stories, I’ve worked to distance myself from carrying such disputes into my own life. Some even go back beyond written records. They do add color to the stories I share, but for me, the feuds are long past.
As time passes in my life, I find I have to work harder not to add to the list with my own experiences.
It would be easy to simply write someone off—as was often the practice—and have no more to do with them once they’ve done you wrong and won’t apologize or admit a mistake.
But unless continuing that relationship is destructive, I’m striving to avoid falling into the footsteps left by my mountain highland kin through the centuries. That’s not to say there might not be a situation that calls for their approach, but I don’t know if I’m up for a good sword fight, pistols at ten paces, or gathering the clan for feudin’ anytime in the near future.
So, I think the approaches mentioned earlier might be best for all concerned. Of course, the other person does have to be concerned. If they’re not, they probably shouldn’t be that important to your life anyway.

Read more about Randall’s experiences in Appalachia in his books such as A Mountain Pearl, and Seeing Faith. Visit www.RandallFranks.com/Store

From Recess to Real Life: Childhood Friends Shaped My World

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I crowded into the MARTA bus headed toward downtown Atlanta. I grabbed a seat as the bus filled up. A Black woman in a gray dress and heels got on, and I noticed there was no available seat, so I rose and moved toward the back, giving her my seat. As I got situated near the rear door, I wrapped my arm around the bus rail and placed my feet appropriately to keep me steady as the bus stopped and started along the rest of the trip to Central City Park. As I stood there, I started looking at the man sitting near me and realized it was Mr. Olivares. He was heading to his job downtown. I had not seen him in years, and initially he did not recognize me.
I had grown tremendously since I used to run through his living room alongside his children who were near my age—Paul and Vivian.
I met Paul in about third grade after his family emigrated from South America. The family included at least two youths near my age and some older siblings as well. I don’t know what drew me to Paul initially.
Through most of my elementary school experience, all the students were white, despite going to school after integration and during a program referred to as M-to-M transfer, where the county would bus students to schools that were demographically different.
As best I recall, Paul was the first student from a different country or culture that I met—especially someone speaking a different language: Spanish.
We became fast friends and began playing together during recess at school. Soon, I started visiting his home and joining his family for dinner, and he would visit ours as well. I began learning enough Spanish to get by as I visited his home and spent time among his siblings.
I guess it was my parents’ open and caring attitude toward people—whom some Southern whites of that era may have viewed differently because of color, culture, or faith—that allowed me the freedom to reach out and not feel I was doing something out of the ordinary.
In fact, perhaps it was the early boundaries that my own parents had faced as they overcame the “hillbilly” stereotypes while migrating from Appalachia into the city and seeking acceptance in Atlanta society that helped them later form the attitudes that shaped me.
So the fact that Paul was from somewhere else never fazed me as a child; it just made our time together of greater interest to me.
At some point, I lost my friend Paul when his parents were able to move him from public school to private school.
I still remember the conversation when he asked me to see if my parents would consider moving me as well. We did discuss it, but my folks stuck with the public school route, so our diverging paths forced us to focus on new friendships. Sadly, I had no need to speak Spanish anymore until I reached my studies in high school, and by then, it was like starting over completely.
It would be a while before Dresden Elementary would see another student who was not white; the next family would be Chinese from Hong Kong. In my grade was Nin Chung Szeto, and once again, I found another friend. In this case, however, I didn’t learn Chinese, but in two years’ time, I certainly had an impact as I helped teach Nin Chung English. I am sure he was burdened by my Southern accent for years. Like Paul, his path also diverged as his family moved west. We kept in touch by letters for some time, but eventually the practice faded. Still, I knew that Nin Chung—by then, he had chosen the name John—was carving out his own future in America.
When the seat next to Mr. Olivares opened up, I sat down and reintroduced myself, explaining that I was on my way to classes at Georgia State University. He caught me up on Paul and Vivian. I asked him to pass my greetings to them, and Mr. Olivares and I would regularly exchange greetings as we both commuted. It would be years later, in a Winn-Dixie grocery line, when Paul and I would next meet. Now, both out of college and making our own lives, we were miles away from those young boys we had been when our friendship started. Though we said we would get together sometime, we were in different places and did not follow through.
While the paths that life had in store for Paul, John, and me were not ones that would keep us connected, for me those youthful experiences enriched my life and allowed me to continue expanding my opportunities to know more about the people I meet, whether from a world away or just down the street.
Find more stories from Randall’s youth experiences in his Encouragers Book Series www.RandallFranks.com/Store .