Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys

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Randall Franks performs with Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys in Dahlonega in 1984.

Appalachian Entertainer/Fiddler Randall Franks has the distinction of being one of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys working alongside Wayne Lewis, Tater Tate and Blake Williams. As of 2024, he is considered the youngest of the living members of the band contributing to the legacy of the Bluegrass Music, Country Music, Rock and Roll Music and Songwriter halls of fame member.

For his contributions to the legacy of Bill Monroe, Randall Franks was honored or recognized by the Grand Ole Opry; Bluegrass Unlimited; The State of Kentucky; The International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame and Museum at Monroe’s Centennial Celebration with also an exhibit inclusion; and Bluegrass Music Profiles.

In 1987, The Grand Ole Opry – Hal Durham, Grand Ole Opry General Manager & Country Music Hall of Famer E. Bud Wendell, Gaylord Entertainment Vice President, and Bluegrass Unlimited – Bluegrass Hall of Fame Member Pete Kuykendall, editor and general manager, honored Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys.

Monroe Enterprises – Bill Monroe was aware of every Blue Grass Boy honored in this effort and fiddler/bassist Randall “Randy” Franks received award #173.

The award stated: “Since 1939 Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys have set the standards for aspiring musicians around the globe. On this, the occasion of Bill Monroe’s 75th birthday, September 13, 1987, Bluegrass Unlimited and the Grand Ole Opry proudly honor Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys for their contribution to the American way of life through music.”

Project Coordinator: Blue Grass Boy Doug Hutchens; Design by Fred Huffman; Award Design Medals

Randall “Randy” Franks was honored in 1987 by the Grand Ole Opry and Bluegrass Unlimited for his contributions to American music as one of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys.

 

“Without Bill Monroe, (Randall Franks) would have not had a music career in Nashville and would have never performed as a guest artist for the Grand Ole Opry,” Franks said. “He along with Jim & Jesse McReynold s were my greatest advocates, cheerleaders and door-openers in country music.”

Randall has written extensively and in greater depth about Bill Monroe in his book series Encouragers. In fact, he is featured in chapters in all three volumes of the collection including “Bill Monroe: A $1,000,000 Magical Mandolin,” “Bill Monroe: Stepping into Kenny Baker’s Shoes,” “Bill Monroe: Don’t Cry in Your Crush,” “A Moment with Doc Watson and Bill Monroe,”  “Being Brought into Focus by Bill Monroe,” and “Bill Monroe – The Hall of Fame Dance” available at www.RandallFranks.com/store .

Radio May Find Two New Releases “Back Up and Push” and “The Road to Columbus” of Randall with Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys on “The American’s Creed” album at https://airplaydirect.com/RandallFranksTheAmericansCreed/ 

“The American’s Creed” album is available on ITunes and other download outlets :  https://music.apple.com/us/album/the-americans-creed/1743671704

Downloads of the two recordings benefit the Pearl and Floyd Franks Appalachian Music Scholarship from the Share America Foundation, Inc.

Below is an interview that Randall Franks shared in 2008 for the former magazine Bluegrass Music Profiles:

Randall Franks Question and Answer for Bluegrass Music Profiles May 2008

Let me preface this interview with the following:

Randall Franks and Bill Monroe in 1984

I am proud to talk about my thoughts about the iconic performer Bill Monroe, although, I think there are many more worthy Blue Grass Boys more deserving of this level of discussion about his artistry. My tenure as a Blue Grass Boy was short for the reasons revealed below, but my friendship with him during our association was a true blessing to me and my late parents Floyd and Pearl. So my comments are not to lift up my association with him but rather simply to remember someone who along side other artists such as Jim and Jesse and the Virginia Boys, The Lewis Family, Jeff and Sheri Easter, Doodle and the Golden River Grass, and The Marksmen that helped place in motion a series of God’s door openings to allow me to reach NBC and CBS as an series actor and to bless my music career with top selling musical releases and various awards.

1) What did you know and think about Bill Monroe before you met him?

First, I knew the sound of his music from the records I had bought; as a child I looked forward to whenever I could catch his appearances on Hee Haw or various specials on the three majors networks. I learned about some of the Monroe lore about various topics from the Georgia and Tennessee bluegrassers that I was exposed to growing up such as stories about Monroe’s relationships with former band members such a Flatt and Scruggs and Jimmy Martin, his musical successes, frustrations and sometimes unchanging attitudes.

2) How and when did you meet him?

Bill Monroe greets fans at Scottsboro, Ala. in 1983. (Randall Franks Media)

As a fan, I first met him when he went to Scottsboro, Ala. to cut a live album in Cathedral Caverns in Alabama. My late father and my friend and mandolin teacher Eugene Akers along with another member of my band The Peachtree Pickers made the trip to see the recording and have an opportunity to be part of that bit of Bluegrass history. Although I don’t think the project as a whole was ever released, it was a fun day and it only solidified my awe of Monroe.

3) Tell me how you heard about an opening and how you auditioned for the group?

I didn’t audition for the Blue Grass Boys. I had met Monroe as a musician in Jekyll Island, Ga. while appearing at an event with Josh Graves. After coming off stage, Monroe was back in a small dressing room where all the performers kept cases. The musicians all played a number with Mr. Monroe, because he had out his mandolin and was tuning up. They all put away their instruments and went away. Mr. Monroe came up to me and asked ‘Do you know how to play ‘Katy Hill’.’ I replied ‘Yes, sir.’ And proceeded to play. He looked at me and shook his head ‘That’s not the way you should play it, you should do it like this.” Showing me the first section and then waiting for me to mimic him. So that is how our relationship officially began, teacher to student. After that tune I looked around and realized we were the only one in the room and the lesson continued with only brief interruptions as acts moved in and out as they went on and off stage for about three hours.

He then invited me to Nashville where I visited him at the farm and at the Opry. I shared some volunteer hours helping to build, set up displays for the creation of the first Bill Monroe Bluegrass Hall of Fame on Music Valley Drive. I performed with the Blue Grass Boys as a guest at its opening, then at Bill’s birthday celebration.

Randall’s 1984 debut for the Grand Ole Opry was featured in Music City News.

In October, Bill invited me to bring my band the Peachtree Pickers to appear on the Early Bird Bluegrass Show for the Grand Ole Opry in October of 1984. We did. It was just a few days later that Kenny departed the group just prior to their going to Japan.

Sue Lewis (Blue Grass Boy Wayne Lewis’s wife) made me aware of Kenny’s departure. Bill and his secretary Betty McInturff were searching for a replacement as they were departing for Japan. My name was discussed and I received the call, but too late for the overseas trip. (I didn’t have a passport.) I joined them on their return to the states.

4) Tell me about your first rehearsals and your first shows as a Blue Grass Boy. What were the typical comments he’d give you about your playing?

I didn’t have a first rehearsal. I walked on the bus in Yakima, Washington. Monroe asked me if I knew most of his numbers. I told him I knew several but was not greatly familiar with his regular set list. Kenny kicked off many of the tunes; this was an area that had me concerned. He said ‘Well why don’t you play the big fiddle tonight and we will let Tater play the little fiddle.’

Randall Franks plays bass as a Blue Grass Boy.

Since I had done little more than hold a bass, this made my stress level increase immensely. Tater gave me a fifteen-minute bass lesson, taped up my fingers and the next thing I knew I was on stage as a Blue Grass Boy for my first 75-minute show. Some of the biggest advice about playing bass was he told me to smile and look like I’m having a good time. I smiled a lot because I did have a good time; although I am sure, my contribution drove my fellow Blue Grass Boys crazy as I tried to keep up with them with an instrument on which I had just a passing knowledge. Those 75 minutes flew by and I was in a musical heaven. I was a Blue Grass Boy. As the tour continued, Tater and I would swap instruments back and forth.

5) Where did you meet for road dates and what were the traveling conditions like? Where were you living?

I flew from Atlanta to meet Bill in Washington and rode his bus from there until we returned to Nashville. Traveling conditions were fine — a bunk in a bus and motel rooms. Otherwise, I drove to meet them at various shows from Atlanta.

Randall Franks on stage with Blake Williams, Bill Monroe and Tater Tate in Seattle, Wash. 1984  (Photo courtesy of Barry Brower)

6)  What did Bill usually do during travel and can you tell me a story about something unique you witnessed?

I don’t know how unique it is but he often sat in his recliner playing solitaire or gin rummy. I often would sit and play with him. He also would like to sit in the jumper sit at the front of the bus and I would sit down on the stair by him at night. We along with the bus driver would talk about a myriad of subjects, often about his experiences on the road, with various people, sometimes simply singing hymns such as “Farther Along.”

7) Did you write any songs with Bill? If so, what were they and how did they come together?

I did not share any writing credits with him. (However, we do share some shared arrangements on my released performances with the Blue Grass Boys)

8) Did you witness Bill writing or practicing/ How did he usually do this?

Bill Monroe listens to Randall’s band in 1984 while sporting a belt buckle, Randall had specially made for him.

Bill was constantly creating tunes and songs in his head. Any time he put the old mandolin in his hands inevitably a new tune would come out.

9) What songs do you remember him writing while you were a member?

“Jekyll Island” was one that sticks in my mind. That was another one that he taught me early on. There were several others through the years I heard him work on, many of which he recorded in his last instrumental session that I attended.

10)  What projects and songs did you record on/Where and when were these done and what was the atmosphere like?

Although I did have the honor of sitting next to Mr. Monroe throughout one of his final recording sessions, I never recorded in the studio with him, however, thanks to James Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys of my period, Wayne Lewis, Blake Williams and the late Tater Tate, a few of the live performances that I did with Bill featuring me on fiddle (are available on a) special project for our Share America Foundation, Inc. to help raise monies for our Pearl and Floyd Franks Scholarship Fund, named for my late parents, helping young people continuing the traditional music of Appalachia. (The songs released this year are Back Up and Push,” and “Road to Columbus,” and another may be released soon.)

11) Who were the other band members at the time and what members joined and quit before you left?

Mr. Bill was trying different things to fill needs at the time — basic core Wayne Lewis, Blake Williams and the late Tater Tate; he also had Joe Stuart and Roger Aycock (bass) come in on different appearances. Seems like I recall Dale Morris coming in following me.

12) What were your favorite songs to perform live?

I enjoyed performing “Sweet Blue Eyed Darling,” “Old, Old House,” “Blue Moon of Kentucky” and “Bluegrass Breakdown.”

13) What was your relationship with Bill like when not on the road and did you spend much free time with him at his home?

As an artist, Randall Franks appears for the Grand Ole Opry in 1985 alongside Ralph Stanley, Wilma Lee Cooper and Bill Monroe.

Even as a youth, I always felt Bill treated me somewhat as an equal possibly because I was leading my own band. We were always friends and when I’d come to Nashville, he’d take me out to eat or to an area music venue and when he came to Georgia, I would do the same. I visited the farm on several occasions and felt it to be a special look at someone I really admired.

14) Did you have any other chores or responsibilities?

While working on the road, I helped keep up with the mandolin and often carried it around. I also would make sure Bill had what he needed when we went to eat or he ate in his motel room.

15) What did you learn from Bill Monroe?

In short, perseverance. He was an overcomer, no matter what he faced in his career or personal life, he came back giving it his best with the attitude that only the best will happen to those who are steadfast, honest and who treats his friends with dignity.

16) Can you give me a story about him or tell something people may not know about him?

When Bill was in a major car accident in the 1950s that sidelined him for a while. As he lay injured following the accident at the edge of the highway and out of it, he could feel a passerby not there offering him aid but working to pull whatever rings he was wearing from his fingers.

17) How, when and why did you leave the group?

Surprisingly, it was years after my departure from the group that I knew what brought about my leaving.

I had completed the cross-country tour and was making various appearances with Monroe as part of his winter shows. We were at Norman Adams’ and Tony Anderson’s Myrtle Beach, S.C. show that Thanksgiving. My parents had made the trip in with me to see me appear with Bill. He and they went out to dinner together without me.

I found out years later that my future as a Blue Grass Boy was the point of discussion. Bill told my parents he wanted me to work for him; they told him they wanted me to finish college. I was the first in my family on both sides at the time to start that endeavor and they wanted me to see it through.

Floyd and Pearl Franks with Bill Monroe backstage at Myrtle Beach, SC in 1984

After some discussion, they agreed and when classes started back after winter break guess who was on campus. Years later after my father’s death, mother and I were back stage at the Opry after my own star was rising. Monroe came over placed his hand on my shoulder and commented to mom, ‘I guess we did a good job in getting him a good education.’ Mother agreed, he gave me a little pat on the back and he moved along. She then told me the story. She also added the fact that he told them if I ever wanted to come back to the Blue Grass Boys after school, he wanted me back. Of course, I did come back many times as a guest appearing on stage with most of the other remaining band members at events during his last years.

18) What was Bill’s reaction and what was your last performance and last days as a BGB like?

In response to the above discussion, Bill just quietly let me know he would be looking at other fiddlers. (Myrtle Beach) was that except I also attribute to my stint with the group an appearance at the High School Auditorium in Sparta, Tenn. It was essentially as a back up fiddler for lack of better description that Bill asked me to join them in case he needed me. Tater and I both played at that show. Joe Stuart played bass.

19) Did you ever regret leaving? Did you see Bill many times after that?

Randall Franks fiddles with Bill Monroe at Bill Monroe Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame.

Did I regret leaving?  I was devastated at the time. I was a teenager sitting in our bluegrass equivalent of the first chair of the New York Philharmonic. It was initially hard to come down from being on stage and going back to my own youth band but the experience elevated my reception in the regional bluegrass community and helped our group gain more opportunities and me more fiddling engagements with other artists. Bill (and the Grand Ole Opry) also brought my group, whomever I was working with and wanted to bring back to perform for the Opry bluegrass shows several times.

20) How do you look back on that phase of your life and career?

I was learning, soaking up anything and everything I could. I was definitely not deserving of the opportunity afforded but ever so glad that God allowed our musical careers to become one for a while.

21) How did you feel when he passed away?

This 1989 photo by Ronald Stuckey is in the room where Monroe originally took an interest in the musical talents of Franks at Jekyll Island, Ga. originally in 1983. Of course, Bill had Randall join him on stage during his show.

While Bill was a man of few words, we shared many in our association. I feel there was times he didn’t always agree with the direction of my musical career especially during the time musically my sounds were becoming more country in orientation. The last time I spoke with him he said “I tell you man, there are not that many people like you and me anymore. Folks like us have got to stick together and be friends to one another.” I was in California pursuing acting opportunities when I heard of his stroke. I was working behind the scenes on “Grace Under Fire.” As soon as I returned South, I immediately went to Nashville and arranged to spend some time with him at the hospital where he was staying.

He could barely speak and was not the tower of strength that helped push me on the national stage, he was just my friend Bill, slowed by infirmities of his age. When I walked in and said my name, he looked up at me and with some effort brought out the syllables ‘Good Fiddler.’ I spent some time with him there just talking about the shared moments as he lay there listening with no response. I told him goodbye, placed my hand on his shoulder, and said “Mr. Bill, I will see you again soon. Thank you for all you did for me.”

I had to return again to Los Angeles, but had returned south when I heard of his death. I felt as if I had lost a father and a person who let his star shine on me for a while and thus gave me a chance to shine myself.

I was only able to make the service at the Ryman and wasn’t able to go to Rosine, although I wish I had.

I for the last time placed my hand on that hand as it laid still in the casket; the one that would often bring me to me knees as he shook mine. It was a hard goodbye and I have missed him ever since but I imagine not any less than anyone else who knew the Man.

22)  How do you sum up what you think of Bill Monroe now and what he means to you?

He was strength personified. Someone that carried his own legacy and an industry into something he could have never even envision in his own youth. He was a man who gave of himself to those he cared about and held to strict philosophies and opinions that were a compass to his life. Did he have shortcomings, sure. Did he make decisions that some questioned, sure. We all do. But what he shared with me is his later life is that he knew Jesus came to clean the slate. He was one of my musical fathers. Because he and others took an interest in me, I do my best to take an interest in young people wishing to continue what we do. That is an honor I owe not only my parents but also all those who helped me along the way including Mr. Monroe.

End of Interview

“I think this photo by Donna Tracy above sums up our friendship, in 1991, I took my co-stars from TV’s “In the Heat of the Night” Alan Autry and David Hart to appear with me on the Grand Ole Opry. Look how Bill greeted us. He was so glad to see the tremendous success that one of his Blue Grass Boys was having on network TV as an actor,” Franks said.

Randall Franks appears with Bill Monroe with a stage full of Bluegrass Legends for the Grand Ole Opry in 1992. (Photo: Alan L. Mayor)

Randall has appeared at Blue Grass Boys Reunions hosted by East Tennessee State University in Tennessee, by the IBMA Hall of Fame and Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky, and in North Carolina.

As historical accounts are written about Bill Monroe and members of the Blue Grass Boys, Randall wanted to make sure that his legacy in the history of the band was solidified by the only remaining officer and staff member of Monroe Enterprises, so he asked James Monroe to attest about his place in Bill Monroe’s legacy and the Blue Grass Boys’ history. James Monroe gave the following statement:

To Whom It May Concern:

     My father Bill Monroe became aware of the talents of Georgia fiddler Randall “Randy” Franks in 1983 and began teaching him

James Monroe and Randall Franks backstage at Grand Ole Opry Bluegrass Show in 1996. (Photo: Randall Franks Media/Donna Tracy)

tunes on the fiddle, and in 1984 he began inviting Randy to come a make appearances with the Blue Grass Boys.

     His first appearance was at the Grand Opening Celebration of Bill Monroe’s Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame on June 4, 1984 in Nashville, Tenn. We had included a picture of his band – The Peachtree Pickers in the museum of the Hall of Fame.

     Dad had him come to the Dahlonega Bluegrass Festival in June 1984 to have him appear with the Blue Grass Boys alongside Kenny Baker. He was included to play among other Blue Grass Boys at dad’s birthday celebration at the hall of fame in September 1984.

Pearl Franks presents Randall with his honor from the State of Kentucky recognizing his role as one of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys in 2002.

Dad then had him bring his band – The Peachtree Pickers to appear at the Grand Ole Opry Birthday Celebration at the Early Bird Bluegrass Show on October 9, 1984. Which he continued to do either at the Birthday Celebration or at Fan Fair with his band or other Grand Ole Opry acts backing him until my father’s passing in 1996.

     When Kenny Baker left the Blue Grass Boys at the Jemison Bluegrass Festival, dad was leaving for a Japan tour. Our office reached out to Randy to see if he could do the tour, but he did not have a passport. Despite this, dad had Betty hire him as a Blue Grass Boy in mid October and we arranged for him to join the band upon their return to the United States. He flew from Atlanta, Ga. to Yakima, Wash. on Oct. 29, 1984. He stayed over night and met the band – dad, Blake Williams, Wayne Lewis and Tater Tate upon their arrival at the Capitol Theatre. They did one 7:30 p.m. show. The band then moved to Portland, Oregon doing an 8:30 p.m. show at the Starry Night; then to Seattle, Wash. for an 8 p.m. appearance on Thursday, Nov. 1 at the Jane Adams Auditorium for the Seattle Folklore Society. The band then traveled to Colorado doing shows at the Arvada Center in Arvada, Colo. at 8 p.m. on Nov. 2 and 3. The band moved on to Fort Collins, Colo. for a 7 p.m. show at the Cow Palace on Nov. 4. After traveling for three days to The Ark in Ann Arbor, Mich. they did 7:30 and 9:30 p.m. shows on Nov. 7. The band returned to Nashville, Tenn. and Randy returned to his classes in Atlanta. Dad had him come and appear with the

Randall “Randy” Franks

Blue Grass Boys in Sparta, Tenn. on Nov. 18 and at the South Carolina State Bluegrass Festival in Myrtle Beach on November 23. While I was not there during the discussion, I understand that dad had dinner with Randy’s parents, Floyd and Pearl at Myrtle Beach and talked with them about him staying with the Blue Grass Boys, they wanted him to finish school first, and

asked dad to allow him to come back in the future once that was done if a spot was open then, and for dad not make Randy the offer. They all agreed.

     As dad continued to try future fiddlers, he did have Randy make some appearances in 1985 and guest appearances for years to come. Randy played both fiddle and bass as a Blue Grass Boy. My dad was proud of one of his Blue Grass Boys in future years achieving network television stardom as an actor on “In the Heat of the Night.” The Grand Ole Opry and Bluegrass Unlimited presented him with one of the Blue Grass Boys buckles. The state of Kentucky made him a Kentucky Colonel for his work as a Blue Grass Boy and the International Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame honored Randy alongside me and the other Blue Grass Boys in 2011 as a Bluegrass Legend at my father’s centennial celebration.

     Though some historians may try to look back upon history and change reality based on their own criteria, to Bill Monroe, and to me, Randall “Randy” Franks was, is, and will always be a Blue Grass Boy. He will always be part of the legacy of Bill Monroe.

James Monroe

Oct. 23/’23

Randall Franks is honored at the Bill Monroe Centennial Celebration at the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2011 for his contributions as a Blue Grass Boy to the legacy of Bill Monroe by emcee and fellow Blue Grass Boy Blake Williams.

 

 

Randall Franks poses along with his Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame exhibit which also included his Blue Grass Boys hat.

Randall’s Blue Grass Boy hat on display at Bluegrass Music Museum in Owensboro.

 

Here is another  webpage referencing his work as a Blue Grass Boy: https://doodah.net/bgb/RandallRandyFranks.html

Randall Franks is an actor. entertainer and journalist. He serves as president of the Share America Foundation, Inc. a Georgia 501-C3 that works to preserve the traditional music of Appalachia by encouraging youth through the Pearl and Floyd Franks Scholarship. For more information, visit  www.ShareAmericaFoundation.org or write P.O. Box 42 Tunnel Hill, Ga. 30755.

The ground is turned

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The spring brings such a joy as it comes time to run my feet through the dirt of the garden.

This year took a bit more effort for me as my tiller was finding every reason not to run this year.

I had endured that last winter and turned the rows by hand. Sadly, it wasn’t as good as I hoped it might be.

It took my brother and I to give it a good tune up a couple of weeks back and it still had a hidden issue neither of us could find. It’s amazing how a small engine with only so many working parts could give one such a time.

A fellow gardening friend – Pete – thankfully had the tinkering abilities to get it going. Maybe it was the magic touch.

A warm day and a couple pulls on the engine and I was off tilling the garden giving it a solid treatment.

After letting the fertilizer sink in a couple of days, I was ready to plant.

I rotated my normal vegetables – cucumbers, yellow and zucchini squash, potatoes, green beans, corn, bell peppers, corn and tomatoes and added a few new to try out this year – spinach, lettuce, onions, cantaloupe and a couple of herbs – basil and thyme.

I learned many of my early gardening from my Grandpa Jesse and my mom and dad. It’s amazing what a little hard work, well cultivated soil, good seeds and some watering can provide.

When I was a child, my mother put up in jars so many vegetables from what we grew in our small garden. We often had food throughout the winter. With each passing year as a kid, I took great joy in seeing a greater yield in what we were doing.

Since I returned to the effort about three years back, unfortunately, I have not seen the return of those childhood yields. Perhaps I have forgotten a few of those early lessons which gave me such a childhood advantage. Or simply, my soil is so much poorer in where I garden today compared with what I had built up over time as a youth.

It seems I can manage a pretty good crop of cucumbers, squash and peppers, as those are what I have pickled, frozen and eaten the most through the winter from my efforts.

With the rising costs of food, that we all are seeing in the stores, I have high hopes that I will be able to be more effective this season in my endeavor.

I even tried a few experimental watermelon in a place I don’t normally plant. As they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

In any event feeling the fresh-tilled soil between my toes reminds me such of walking behind my grandfather as his plowed.

It’s not exactly the same, but I can almost see his Bib overalls legs up ahead of me as I look along the ground. I can hear his booming voice as he calls out for me to bring the seeds and walk behind him placing them just the right distance apart.

Then months later, I remember looking up at the corn so high above me head with the bean vines running up each one.

My seeds are in the ground, the watering will bring on what comes next and hopefully in a few months, all of my efforts will yield some great eats.

I hope you are taking the time to plant some food wherever you are. Even if its just a few plants on a patio. Every little bit helps and we all need all the help we can get these days.

When life is rough, play golf

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I was standing in the teeing area trying to figure out the best approach to get my ball where I wanted it to go.

Once I settled on an approach, I pulled my driver, set the tee and my ball.

As the old joke goes, I addressed the ball – “Hello ball.”

I gave a practice swing to make sure I had the right form. I didn’t but I never have. But I keep trying to do so.

I pulled back my driver and brought it down to hit the ball just right. I love the sound when it hits just right and off into the sky the ball flies. I look trying to follow the ball and it veers from center headed towards the rough on the left side of the fairway.

My plan and swing had failed to propel me in line with the hole. Was it my swing? Maybe the wind? Could it have been my driver?

In all seriousness, it was all these things, they all played a part in where the ball flew and landed.

The greatest not mentioned was my skill as a golfer, which I am the first to say is non-existent beyond having an outstanding grip on the club. After that its all down hill.

I have however hit a few good drives and quite a few outstanding putts along the way. Though I have frustrated some very good golfers making the score go the wrong way for the team.

Why do people spend so much time chasing a little golf egg around this long green pasture where gophers left holes and people stuck flags in them so people wouldn’t step in them?

Well perhaps its our present-day self reaching back to the inner history of our spirit which remembers the endless days of our ancestors roaming through nature in search of game to put on the table to survive. Since many no longer fulfill that activity, golfing provides an alternative mechanism to sustain that internal feeling. We even call it shooting a round of golf.

I wish I could say I have learned some lessons that I could impart to you about my times on the back nine, but unfortunately, other than avoiding the alligators when golfing in Florida, I’ve got nothing.

However, I have learned that many business deals are shaped on the course, so perhaps that is a lesson. If you are young man in a profession that is made in the deals then be sure you can play a round of golf.

Can I convey a life lesson – enjoy your time on this earth. If you like being outside, find a pastime that will fill your soul with the warmth of happiness that refills your engine. Golf is it for some, for others its hiking, others gardening, others …. the list is endless. Find those that uplift you and press on, just watch out for those not watching out for you. Fore!!!

Tarry a little longer

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I recently sat in the pew for a funeral listening to the preachers and speakers as they focused on the amazing life of a friend, colleague and co-author – the late Ringgold Mayor Joe Barger.

We spent nearly a year working weekly creating his autobiography – Testing the Metal of Life.

One line from the speakers really stuck with me shared by speaker Gary Knowles – he closed with the line tarry a little longer, when speaking about how he regretted not spending a little more time with the deceased when he passed by seeing him working out in his yard.

That stuck with me – everyday our lives take us by people’s houses. We see folks on the street, in the store or around town. Sometimes its people we see often, sometimes its an unusual crossing of paths.

What do you do? Do you wave and keep going? Do you stop and make small talk? Do you really greet an old friend and spend some time, maybe ask them to join you for lunch or coffee?

A few minutes can tell us a lot about other people’s circumstances. With the seasons of life, people move into and out of our lives and we lose touch.

They stay with us in mind as we last left them. As the years pass we picture them as we last saw them, so we can sometimes be surprised by what we find if they pop up unexpected.

Do or did they mean something in your life?

Are they older? Are they your age?

If you think about it, we all have people in our lives of all ages, from all phases, that we wish we could have spent a few more minutes with, when they were gone.

Just a few more words, another afternoon fishing, a ballgame, a dance, time around the kitchen table sharing stories, a walk in the woods, just sitting and not saying anything could have meant the world to any of us when we look down into their closed eyes in a casket.

In short, the message to all of us is clear, if someone’s means something to you, don’t hurry, don’t rush, just tarry a little longer. You never know when it might be the last time you see them.

Sometimes a statement is just that

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Conversations have always been a two-way street.
One person says something, another returns. Many times these moments pass in full agreement with both parties who are speaking totally in agreement on the topic.
Just the same, in a moment total agreement might turn on a dime and become a disagreement.
Where do these come from? Is it buried in the conversation? Is it the opinion expressed by one of the participants?  Is it a misunderstanding?
We have all experienced such. Sometimes they come up out of nowhere. Sometimes they are carefully crafted with selected words to entice just such a reaction.
Some folks enjoy creating strife or conflict. They draw a pleasure out of participating within the verbal joust between competitors.
I think sometimes especially among men who are not friends, there is almost a sense that conflict is how we are suppose to interact. After all we are trained that from childhood. Compete and come out on top in whatever our endeavor – sports, business, war, or even choosing a mate. There is nothing wrong with this thinking. It has stood the test of time to be a way to bring up the men we need to build and protect our society.
I am sad to say though, I am seeing fewer and fewer who are able to meet those expectations.
No matter the situation though, the ability to carry on civil conversations without coming to a disagreement is one that must be a constant effort of every man.
In a time when our country seems to be divided on many issues, perhaps all men and women need to reflect upon those that have come before and their sacrifices to America.
We are all Americans, we must not allow people to divide us into groups who disagree and fight with one another over petty issues. I recently saw a man’s testimony on social media saying that what is important is keeping our America a float and not allow it to sink under the weight of what is being done to us by those in positions of power.
We can battle over this way is right or that way is right. What I see is those we have put in charge don’t know the way and we are following them blindly into a dead end alley.
What will be our fate in that alley? I don’t know, I just hope that once we are there, we realize we are all there together and must work together, converse together to figure out how we might get out of there together as Americans.

Riding the pinto home

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If we are to realize what is before us, sometimes we must look back.
One of my fascinations since I was first handed the keys to my first car, a Ford Pinto, I looked out from the driveway thinking, I now have the freedom to go anywhere the road takes me.
Of course, that was a little over stated in my 17-year-old mind. There was a little thing like, how do I pay for gas, insurance, tires. I had to get to work on time. I have a project due at school. I guess this means I need a parking pass at High School now.
So, freedom wasn’t really free.
Despite those limitations, I still did have the ability to go places on my own.
While the vehicle bought at auction was not the hottest ride on the teenage scene and it certainly was not going to bring about the potential of any dates.
Four wheels and an engine were much better than pedaling or being driven by a parent.
Whenever I was able to reach the outskirts of the suburban life my parent’s had built outside Atlanta back towards the Appalachian hills of home, I always breathed a little easier. The green fields and the mountains made me feel better.
As the blacktops turned to gravel or dirt, its amazing how those changes made my heart grow the desire to just sit on top of a mountain and look off into the distance.
Of course, where our folks came from, you didn’t just sit on anyone’s mountain.
When you turned up a road before long everybody knew you were there and headed his or her way.
They knew if you friend, foe, kin or a lost stranger and soon had you sized up.
Friends and kin would see folks waving. If the road was a one lane and you met another, one of you would back up until the other could pass.
That of course gave an opportunity to pass the time of day, find out how their mom and them were, how’s the fishing, if anyone was sick back up that way.
The visit might even get you an invite to dinner, or a suggestion about a neighbor needing help with some chores.
If you were foe, needless to say, the waves would turn into leering stern looks depending on how much of a foe.
Strangers were given grace to a point until they realized when they got to the end of the road, they were either at someone’s house or someone’s closed gate. Then a bit of stern kindness “Neighbor, where are you trying to get to? – Who are going to see there? – Well, let me tell you how to get there.”
As soon as they wave you out of sight, they are burning up the phone lines to check on whomever you mentioned to let them know.
No matter the experience, the country road, the mountains, the streams uplifted my spirits and strengthened my being.
While the years are long gone from those days with the Ford Pinto, I still point my vehicle towards those old familiar mountain paths. More are paved, folks don’t take the time with each other they once did, but the underlying caring still remains. The pleasant encounters, the laughing with old friends, the occasional pickin’ and grinnin’ still remain and bring me smiles of the heart! That’s something we all need. You may not find yours where I find mine, but you should look just the same until you do.
So, get on your pinto and ride man, ride.

The colors of things yet to be seen

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As I drove through the mountains last fall looking at bright yellows, deep reds and variety of greens and browns, I felt a warmness coming over me beckoning back to my childhood riding in the back seat of my parents blue 1964 Chevy Malibu as we made our way through the mountains heading to who knows where.

The adventure of travel was something that we all enjoyed, trying to find something we had not seen, something that would be an experience we could share throughout our memories.
I don’t know what it was that made those trips through the hills and hollers in full color that drew me into a sense of security while yet being awed by the change of the seasons enveloping us.
As we drove I would watch the leaves whisk around in our wake as the car sped through the countryside, often as we would unexpectedly swoop over a hill I would feel my stomach jump like being on a roller coaster.
If we travelled into the night and the temperature began to drop, I was allowed to curl up in the floorboard near the heater vent and I would drift off to sleep until my father scooped me up in his arms and took me into our destination for a night’s rest. Today, I know that is something children will never experience and probably for safety reasons for the best.
We would roll through small town after small town sometimes stopping for a visit, sometimes not, but eventually our journey would take us to somewhere we had never been before.
In a way, I guess in the modern sense this was the pioneering blood deep within our spirits that inspired the need to see something new. Unlike a generation before when travel meant horses, wagons or even train trips, if you could afford it, we were blessed with affordable gasoline and the advantage and freedom of travel by automobile as far as the roads could take us.
Unlike our forbearers, we weren’t the first to see a thing unseen by previous frontiersman, but still there was a sense of the unknown especially for me as a child.
I guess that has never left me, even as I pour over faded photos of those trips, sights that are now just a memory, I still feel that exhilaration, I see the sights through the window of that Malibu.
Even today with the higher cost of gas and travel, I still feel an excitement when I slip behind the wheel and head off to some place I have never been before. The same is true for spring and summer excursions across the country. Although after years of travel as an entertainer, I have to travel much farther away to see those unknowns but I still seek the sights.
As you travel, I hope you and your family and friends, find new sights, make new memories, and are blessed with the beauty of America byways!

 

 

Seeing Faith

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Seeing Faith is Randall’s Summer 2024 book release

“In “Seeing Faith,” actor/Entertainer Randall Franks, “Officer Randy Goode” from TV’s “In the Heat of the Night,” shares experiences and stories that reflect how he has seen God working in his life and in the lives of others. Franks has shared the gospel in song along with his testimony from stages and pulpits across the United States and Canada. Many of the messages reflect his walk through the world of entertainment in acting and music, while some of the stories reach back to his Appalachian roots. Through these stories and reflections, Franks and his pastoral partners provide an opportunity for readers to study the Bible and reflect upon their life experience with 31 lessons that inspire self improvement and ultimately a closer walk with Jesus Christ.”

Seeing Faith is a 30-day devotional study in which Randall shares 31 of his messages.

To these have been added pastoral studies with scriptures and questions. Seven pastors join Randall on this project.

The book will be a great study for any Sunday School class, prayer group or Bible study

The price will be $16 plus $5 shipping.



Seeing Faith

Autograph? Please Provide Name?


Group orders will be available at a discount, so please e-mail
rfrankscatoosa@gmail.com for cost orders of 3 or more with special shipping rates.
A portion of funds raised from the book will benefit the Share America Foundation, Inc. and its Appalachian musical scholarships.

If you are an Amazon customer and prefer ordering there, you will find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Seeing-Faith…/dp/0984910891

 

Reaching back to push forward

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Life is something that we should cherish with every passing breath. Often times we do not appreciate the simplest things like the feel of cool breeze on a hot summer day; the taste of a fresh glass of homemade lemonade so cold that the outside of the glass drips; the deep red color of a vine-ripened tomato as its thinly sliced for a tomato sandwich slightly smeared with JFG mayonnaise.

This morning I have pondered along with some of my fellow writers what common ground there is between the generations of Americans that now bind us as a people. At one time it was our country’s deep agricultural heritage, the connection to the soil and what through sweat and hard work it could provide for both the sustenance and financial gain of the family.

Generations of Americans even those that lived in the cities, depended upon family farms to provide what our country needed to survive. In my lifetime, we have seen much of farming shift to larger business concerns and there has been a generation, possibly two, of individuals which have no close connection to the land, they didn’t grow up on the farm or even spend days helping their grandparents haul hay, cut okra, pick tomatoes or pull corn.

So what does this mean for the future of our country, for the preservation of our lifestyle and the heritage of our communities? Are we destined to one-day build museums dedicated to the preservation of subdivisions? What values of history are we giving the current generation? Will they look back at a tractor and ask, “What’s that?”

With generations of Americans who have little or no practical daily connection to the land, how will they sustain themselves in an emergency such as the upcoming worldwide medical pandemic that is being heralded by the media? What happens when milk can no longer be sent from the far off mega-farms of the west? I bet there aren’t many households that have shelves lined with canned goods enough to get the family through to the next growing season, as was our ancestors’ custom. What will happen to a generation with no food because there will be no way to move it from place to place?

During the worst period in this country’s history, the Great Depression, even the poorest farmer, who was not devastated by natural disaster, had some amount of food to eat. Thousands of people who lived in the cities were able to receive food in soup lines because many farmers were able to keep working the land and caring people were willing to help those in need. They all had a connection to the land.

If our state, our county, our community was totally cut off from the outside world could we survive? Do we have a plan in place to feed and meet the needs of our population? Could we create the items needed for day to day life? Do we have the people who have the knowledge to do that?

While I’ll say that I believe that many leaders have considered the possibility, I do not think that we have a plan in place that could keep our state or county functioning on its own. It will take a joint effort at a local level, community to community, neighbor to neighbor, to see that each family or person makes it through in such a situation.

Will America ever face some catastrophe that will throw us backwards in time wishing that we had a few acres to plant potatoes and a milk cow to provide some milk and a horse to ride to town? I don’t know but even if it didn’t, it probably wouldn’t hurt if everybody knew how to dig taters, which part of the cow the milk comes from and how to get it to come out and just how do you get the key in a horse’s ignition and more important where are the brakes on one of them things. Just kidding, of course I know where the brakes are.

Do I have the answers as to what the future will be like, of course not, that is only in the Hands of God. Do I have a hope as to what I would like it to be? I certainly do.

I see an America that is covered with strong communities of caring and loving individuals who give their neighbors a helping hand when its needed. They go out of their way to help pick up a man when he is down, brush him off and help him along life’s road.

I see an America where greed and crime is something that exists only in the minds of creative novelists and film directors instead of the eyes our fellow man. I see an America where you make choices that are good for all the people not just a chosen few. I see an America where when a leader actually stands up and says something he or she actually believes rather than what the public wants to hear. Where his or her words of inspiration can actually mobilize this country towards a common good of creating a world that will be something our future generations can build from rather than have to pay for.

I see an America where each community is capable of standing on its own using the talents of its citizenry and the abilities of its businesses and industries no matter what the country as a whole may have to withstand in its future.

My friends the future of America is up to each one of us, its not just the job of Washington, Atlanta, Chattanooga, the guy next door, its not just the job of the woman down the street, it takes each of us working every single day improving our community as a whole by stepping outside our comfort zones and reaching out to make a difference.

It is up to us to have our own lives prepared for emergencies and to work with our local leaders to make sure that plans are in place. It is only through preparation that we as individuals or communities can reach out and help others, secure in the knowledge that our own families and communities are safe and adequate supplies are available to meet the needs at home.

Will this generation and those that follow be less because they are further removed from America’s roots? I think as long as our society continues to head in the same direction, each generation will make their way into the brave new world but it’s the what ifs that sometime worry me and make me thankful that God is in control. But even with God’s control He expects all of us to do our part. Perhaps getting closer to and understanding the role that the land plays in our lives and making sure that that role never vanishes might be one way we can improve our little corner of the world.

Learning to be a host

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     The sun swept across the dark wood floor forming a light spot in the shape of a heart that I noticed as my mother buzzed around the room with dishes in her hand setting the table.
On the kitchen stove, pans were gurgling as meatballs simmered in a sauce, angel hair pasta boiled with a hint of basil filling the air.
The evening was close at hand and she was expecting the neighbors over for a light spaghetti dinner and an evening of cards and conversation.
In the fall prior to election, the conversation often leaned more to political strategies of mustering the neighbors and friends to get out and campaign or vote for one of the candidates my mother was sold upon, After election, the dialogue kept to local gossip and plans for the holidays.
For me an evening such as this meant I would be relegated to the children’s table for supper and the other children and I would be occupying us in another room with a board game of some nature.
While I didn’t mind these evenings generally. Unfortunately, often times my mother’s friends had an abundance of female children. While I guess that wasn’t unfortunate to them, for me, that meant in addition to being relegated to eating with them at the children’s table and minding my manners, I would have to mind my manners all evening as we played. With the girls, there was no running like wild Indians, no rough housing, we played civilized games such as Go Fish, Monopoly, Operation, Life or whichever board game suited my guest’s fancies.
Cheating was out of the question in these circumstances. I was the host; I had to make sure everyone was following the rules including me. This action sometimes got me into some very heated discussions with my guests. I realized that sometimes girls were not the frills and lace I was led to believe as some of them would get right mean when they didn’t get their way.
If it had been a guy, we could have settled our differences with a short wrestling match or a few exchanged fists, with the victor getting their way in the disagreement and the game continued. You couldn’t do that with the girls. They might have won and then I would have never heard the end of it. Of course, I am kidding, I was taught not to fight with a girl, even though a few of them needed a whoopin’, I would have to leave that to their folks.
Now that is not to say a girl didn’t hit me a couple of times in these engagements. They did and then they would escape to the safety of the living room where the adults were engaged in civilized pursuits.
Did I ever do the same, well, let’s just say, I usually found a way to get even by pulling a return prank of some description.
After all it was my job to see all the kids had a good time. If one was acting out of line, thee best way to accomplish a good time were to bring the askew kid back into plum with the rest of us. Sometimes that took some creative comeupens.
Despite whether my guests were female or male, I did always enjoy these times when I was asked to entertain. It was an opportunity to learn some of the basic expectations for treating friends in your home,
So friends, have you taught your children and grandchildren how to be a host. Not just a friend but also a host in their home.
Depending on your customs and traditions, such a skill can lay the groundwork for opportunities in which they will serve both in their lives and at work.