Thank Your Lucky Stars

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Webster describes a star as a celestial body with twinkling points of light. The wise men of old followed a star to the baby Jesus. Centuries ago, sailors learned to navigate themselves around the world by the stars.
Today, many look at people who have reached a certain status in their field as stars.
Do we look at these people as twinkling points of light? I imagine some do. Many stars use their celebrity to accomplish great works of charity.
The late Danny Thomas and his St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital is a wonderful example. Now, many years after Mr. Thomas left us, his work lives on in the children they help each and every day.
I have been blessed to know many stars in my life. People who I have admired. People who have been guides to me in the darkest of night, or the brightest of day.
First and foremost, one of the greatest stars I have ever come to know is Jesus. His light has lead millions now for 2000 years. For this Georgia boy, he is always there to lean on, or to guide me through whatever comes my way.
My parents were stars to me. No matter what they faced, the great depression, war, meeting the needs of my brothers and I, they were always there doing what had to be done.
Many teachers were stars to me. At any given point in my schooling, I can find one teacher who stood out in giving me more than what was required. They would make whatever I wanted seem important. No matter how dumb the question was, they made it seem intelligent. One teacher in particular, because of his love of music, changed the direction of my life. Dr. Donald Grisier brought the fiddle into my life and set the stage for God to open so many doors.
My first employer, Joe Wyche, ran the local Dairy Queen near where I grew up outside Atlanta. He and the managers, David and Ed, gave me a chance to earn a little money. I was able to learn responsibility and how to deal with customers. Thanks to their guidance, I soon became one of the youngest managers in the Dairy Queen system. But before that I could make the best cone curl in the business. All the people I worked with there were stars to me.
Now I have mentioned parents, teachers and a restaurateur as being stars. Now I’ll mention a couple of people who you may consider to be popular stars.
When I was still in my teens, Bill Monroe, the father of bluegrass music, took interest in this young fiddler. He spent many hours sharing his music with me. Grand Ole Opry stars Jim & Jesse also become huge advocates and mentors in my life. They were my guides, my teachers, my friends and some of the highest stars in the musical heavens to me.
Carroll O’Connor, TV’s “Archie Bunker” and “Chief Gillespie,” and Alan Autry, TV’s “Bubba,” both took an interest in me as a person and in my work. They took the time, along with many producers like Walt Dornisch, directors like Peter Salim, Larry Hagman and Leo Penn and other actors to encourage me, teach me and give me opportunities to go where a boy from Georgia could not even imagine — on “In the Heat of the Night.” These and so many others are stars to me from that period in my life.
So many stars touch our lives every day. To me a star can be anyone who does what they do well. Then they share that God-given talent with others. They may be a good cook, a great mechanic, a successful salesperson, an inspiring clergyman, a visionary statesman or a cone-maker. They are all stars to me. Why don’t you take a look at the stars in your life? and let them know that your life is better because their light is shining on you. Is your light shining on those around you? If so, you can be a star too.

Animals are Christians too — aren’t they?

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When there was no place among people for Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem, the animals made room for the birth of Jesus in a stable. Donkeys and horses were probably among the first to look upon the Son of God.
Isn’t it only appropriate that there be a place for them in the Kingdom of God? I am reminded of an old farmer, Jebadiah Cross who had worked his fields side by side with his old gray mule named Flossie for many years. When Flossie died, he called the Presbyterian preacher to come and do the funeral for his Flossie.
Upon arrival, the elderly preacher stepped down from the buggy, dusted his long black overcoat, and straightened his black stovepipe hat. He prepared himself for comforting the family. He was shocked when Jebediah led him to the barn and he discovered the dearly departed Flossie was only a mule. He popped on his hat, said there was no way he would ever preside over a service for a mule and sped towards his carriage.
So Jebadiah called on the new Methodist minister. Just in his twenties, he had arrived from seminary to serve an established congregation. This was to be his first funeral. Nervously, the young man came out to visit Jebadiah. After discovering that Flossie was not a member of the family, the minister had to break the news that he could not do it because he was worried about how his new congregation might react.
Finally, he called a Baptist pastor. The pastor arrived in a Ford Model T. It almost sighed with relief when the middle-aged well-fed pastor stepped to the ground. Again, Jebediah led the clergy through the house and then back into the barn where Flossie lay in state. He concurred with his fellow clergymen that he couldn’t lead a funeral service for a mule.
As the pastor headed for the barn door, Jebadiah looked down at his faithful companion, stroked her mane and said, “Well, Flossie, I guess I’ll just have to keep that $10 for the preacher.”
The Baptist pastor turned and said, “You should have told me Flossie was a Baptist.”
Animals are sometimes better friends than most folks are. Cats, dogs, fish and birds can all make differences in our lives.
Some folks are cat people — I am not a cat person. Not that I have anything against them. It is just when I am around them I sneeze, itch, scratch, turn blue and eventually die. But if there is a cat anywhere to be found, nine chances out of 10, it is rubbing up against my leg.
When I look at a potential date, one of my first questions is: “Do you like pets?” If they have a dog, I know that I am safe — well sort of. Some of them can leave a permanent impression. I have one of those on my right leg. Boy, old Bugar sure could bite.
Ever since I was a little boy, I have been a dog person. You can do so much more with a dog.
What can cats do anyway? They lay around the house and eat. That is a man’s job isn’t it? Might explain why so many women have cats instead of men. Most women probably want only one animal laying around the house anyway; at least cats don’t talk back.
But dogs, they can hunt, play Frisbee, scare off bad guys. I remember one of my first dogs when I was little, Brutis. I couldn’t have been more than three-feet tall. He was six feet if he was an inch. I am not kidding. He could stand on his hind legs and look my dad in his eyes.
Often my dad would say after supper, “Why don’t you go out and play with Brutis.”
Play with Brutis? That dog played with me. I was like a big, squeaky toy for him.
He had this little game he would play — let’s see how many times we can knock Randall to the ground. He was a good trainer; eventually I learned how to play dead.
I will say this: Brutis was a cultured dog. He had the finest taste in clothing. One time he felt that I was not dressed quite right, he held me down and tore every stitch of clothes off me.
I think it was his way of saying, “My mommy dresses me funny.”
My mother did not care for his fashion advice and he was soon on his way to destination unknown.
I sort of envision him on the defensive line of the Bulldogs. He sure knew how to tackle.
From the comedy story “Animals are Christians Too — Aren’t They?” by Randall Franks, used by permission of Peach Picked Publishing.

Chicken in the country and a Tennessee Moon

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Great Country Moments is a special internet production of Springer Mountain Farms® that in January will feature episodes with Janie Fricke, Oak Ridge Boys, Rex Allen Jr., Mark Chesnutt, Bill Anderson, Jeannie Seely, Confederate Railroad, Charley Pride and Ronnie McDowell. The program is available online at www.greatcountrymoments.com.
Through the one-of-a-kind story segments, the featured country stars will take viewers through some of the best times of their career and reveal emotional, exciting, and memorable moments that fans have never heard first-hand. Along with the videos will be trivia questions that viewers can answer to enter a contest to win a variety of prizes. A grand prize of a free freezer full of chicken will be given away to one lucky winner who participates in the trivia contest.
The “Great Country Moments” series features a new video being released each week. The recipe segments will reveal the artist’s favorite homemade recipes using Springer Mountain Farms® chicken, along with a written recipe that will be available to viewers. Some of the stars featured in the series include Charlie Daniels, The Oak Ridge Boys, Tanya Tucker, Ronnie McDowell, Deborah Allen, Jimmy Fortune and many more.
“Springer Mountain Farms enjoys many wonderful partnerships with the country music community. Great Country Moments is another great outlet to feature some of country music’s finest with an added bonus, their favorite chicken recipe! We have created a living cookbook that fans and Springer Mountain Farms® chicken lovers can follow along with. I can’t wait to try the recipes out in my kitchen!” said Gus Arrendale, President of Springer Mountain Farms.
On the bluegrass front, check out the new Pinecastle release Jan. 17 from Ray Cardwell called Tennessee Moon
Tennessee Moon has a clear New Grass influence in producer Pat Flynn. However, with nine out of twelve tunes written by Cardwell, the album is his own take on that classic sound.
“I feel my music is based upon the traditional style of bluegrass and old timey music my parents raised me on, and the collection of musical experiences I’ve had in my journey through life, Cardwell said. “My songwriting is a direct reflection of new ideas balanced with the traditions of the past.”
Flynn also adds his talents on guitar and harmony vocals to the album along with fellow New Grass Revival alum John Cowan lending tenor and harmony vocals on many of the tracks. Cardwell has already built a touring band of incredible musicians to take his music on the road as Ray Cardwell & Tennessee Moon.
Ray honed his musical chops playing in The Cardwell family bluegrass band in the late 1970’s. In the ‘80s he spent time playing rock and reggae before moving to Nashville in the ‘90s to be a member of the bluegrass band, the New Tradition. He returned to his home state of Missouri a few years later to raise a family while teaching vocal and instrumental ensembles. Along the way he has had experience with an eclectic mix of musical genres from bluegrass and Americana to musical theater and Motown. Now living in Nashville,  Cardwell has returned to his musical roots while blending in his varied influences to create a style all his own. For more information, visit RayCardwell.com.

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? 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, it’s not just the job of Washington, Atlanta, Chattanooga, the guy next door, it’s 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.

New promise

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A new year brings the promise of starting over. Many folks see it as a point to make a resolution to complete or change things in their life. Perhaps coming out of the Christmas season gives them hope to make their lives better.
In reality, each new day brings us the chance to improve our lives. We can start that landscaping project we always wanted to do. We can visit with people we care about for whom we never seem to find the time. Remember that long list of repairs on the “Honey do” list for quite a while. Maybe you can get them done.
We do not need special days like new year’s to re-create ourselves.
Life is an experience in constant growth and learning. When we stop such growth we are stuck in a rut. I once heard a wise man say a rut is the closest thing to a grave.
Now I’m not advocating you go out and buy a Ferrari and spend a $1,000 for a luxurious day at a Palm Springs spa. We all have to live within our means and meet our responsibilities, that is what being an adult is all about. There are people depending on us.
Limits of budget and responsibility do not preclude people from improving themselves and learning throughout life.
It may be as simple as getting up off the couch and taking a leisurely walk with your love ones around the block; turning off the television and reading a good book to your children; finding out more about the community you live in and as a family enjoying all the sites, sounds, and activities including entertainment, politics, clubs, volunteer organizations and church activities.
Surprise the people in your life with something they would not expect you do. Do something that you generally depend on another family member or employee to do. Give them a break, a day or an hour or two off to do something they enjoy while you look after their responsibilities.
A new year’s resolution to lose weight, quit smoking or take better care of yourself are important worthy goals for anyone who truly wishes to attain them.
Sometimes it is the simple things which really make a difference in life. What will be remembered by those we encounter? Have we really done our very best with every task today?
Life can grow on you if you let it but the funny thing is it helps to be a participant. After you grow up though, you have to be your own coach and cheerleader, otherwise, you won’t know when to get off the sidelines and get in the game.
What’s great is God put us in the driver’s seat it is up to us however to drive the car.

The new stove for Christmas

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The family had already gathered in the valley below the Gravelly Spur for an unbelievable feast of ham garnished with pineapple, green beans in a dish surrounded by little pearl onions, mashed potatoes and gravy, and dandelion greens seasoned with just the right amount of pepper and fresh churned butter.
The dinner was topped off with one of Grandma Kitty’s pumpkin pies.
She carefully prepared each item in her cast iron pots over the open flames of the hearth. She never complained about all the work that was involved in keeping the fire stoked and having to keep such close tabs on each item to make sure they were just right.
The days following Thanksgiving always meant there would be some leftovers for the family to enjoy in a variety of creations that she would lovingly craft to give the family the illusion that they were not eating the same dishes each meal.
For years, she toiled to make the three meals a day for her ever-growing family. One day when the family went to town that summer, Grandpa Bill noticed her lingering in Ollison’s General Store around a catalog with pictures of some new wood cooking stoves.
Although she never said a word, he saw in her eyes the desire she had for a wrought iron Home Comfort stove.
He decided then and there that she would have one. So he made an arrangement with Mr. Ollison to buy the stove, paying a bit at a time through the rest of the year to have it arrive just before Christmas.
Grandpa Bill had managed to keep the purchase a secret from the entire family. He even arranged for everyone to be gone to visit Cousin Winfrey Small so that when Mr. Ollison arrived in his wagon on Dec. 23, with a tarp covering the contents, no one could see.
Mr. Ollison and Grandpa Bill unloaded the stove and set it in the kitchen. He had worked all morning preparing the stove pipe so he could get it hooked up and have it ready when she returned.
He was making the last adjustment as he heard the wagon pull up in the yard. He quickly pulled a bit of red ribbon into a bow and set it in the middle of the stove. He sat down quietly at the table with his newspaper in his hand as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
As the kids rushed into the house, they did not even notice the large stove in the kitchen until Grandma Kitty dropped the pail she was carrying with her Christmas cookies inside. She stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, her hand over her mouth, holding back a flood of tears as she saw the stove.
The sound of the pail hitting the floor brought all the kids to the kitchen, and they began hovering around the stove.
Pearl said, “Did Santa come early?”
Grandpa Bill said, “Yes, he said he would be back in a couple of days, but he thought your mother might like to have her present early.”
Grandma Kitty had moved quietly to her kitchen chair, sitting down slowly, never taking her eyes off the stove except to wipe away the tears of joy flowing down her cheek.
Pearl said, “Why are you so sad about getting a present?”
“I’m not sad dear, I am just so happy I could not help crying,” she said.
“So you like the new stove?” she asked.
“I have never gotten a better present from Santa in my life,” she said.
She rose and gave Grandpa Bill a big hug.
“Thank you for telling Santa what I wanted,” she said.
“If he could, he would give you so much more,” he said.
“I have everything I need right here,” she said, as she gathered all her children close and hugged them tightly.

“The New Stove” is from Randall Franks’s “A Mountain Pearl: Appalachian Reminiscing and Recipes”

Doing nothing is an action, too

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Recently I was honored to share the pulpit for a home going celebration of one of my late mother’s friends. Van McFall was among the close-knit group of moms within the circle of my childhood that I remember well. The mothers were Pearl, Van, Mary Burgess and Nettie Fisher. They got into all kinds of adventures from taking jobs as police officers, and bus drivers. They engaged in the midst of every type of civic service from political campaigns, parent teacher associations, boy scouts, girl scouts and everything you could imagine. Their activities threw all of their children and their husbands into the mix together. While we were not related, we spent endless hours entertaining each other while our mothers spent time together. We shared family births, deaths, holidays, school milestones, first jobs – many of which were at the local Dairy Queen, and the passing of endless hours of our youth.

In my neighborhood, we had a great group of children and we all found our place in that larger group.

Getting to share a few childhood stories with her children after not seeing most of them in decades brought back some heartwarming memories. I was reminded of folks I had not thought of for years.

I remember fondly remember hours of play after completing my chores around the house. Of course, as I got older, I took on odd jobs like mowing neighbors’ yards to earn a little money.

We all would gather to play and race our bikes down suicide hill. Van’s son Joe recalled one of his attempts at doing an Evel Knievel type Snake River Canyon jump using his father Joe’s new picnic table as a ramp. With the aid of some other neighborhood boys setting the lighter fluid the table was soaked in a blaze, he rode full speed for takeoff. He jokingly said it did not end well as many of the neighborhood moms realized what was happening, they ran to overt it, but not in time to stop him. Now I was not among that group who had a hand in that adventure but needless to say I found myself in some others.

I’ve had two bikes in my life; my first bike was small and green and well suited me. When I got big enough to earn my own money, I did odd jobs to earn enough money to buy a 3-speed red English racer. I saved all year and it was a Christmas present for myself. Buying that bike meant a lot to me.

I shared in our recollections,

on one of our trips down suicide hill, the new racer decided it wanted to go one way and me another. The accident sent me flying through the handlebars and sliding down the pavement for 20 feet or more. That still hurts just thinking about it. I had sores all over me from that adventure.

My friends and I would get in our share of disagreements with each other. Those would lead usually to some hurt feelings and some rolling around on the ground till someone would say “Uncle.” We always seemed to come through it. There really were no children who caused trouble in my age bracket. A few older ones sometimes got into mischief, but we always managed to keep out of trouble.

Do not get me wrong, there were bullies. We were just blessed not to have them on our street, at least for very long. I remember when I was about seven there were two brothers who took great pleasure in picking fights with me. At least, it seemed that way at the time.

A boy my age named Chris Sands moved in. His parents had just divorced, and at that time it was not as usual as it is now. I’ll never forget one meeting with those brothers that had me at the bottom of a wrestling match that I just could not win. Chris was the new guy in the neighborhood, and saw that I was being unfairly targeted for this fight and stepped in to pull the other boys off me. From that moment on, he was my friend — that is until he later moved away, and I lost track of him.

While time has erased many of the memories of the time we spent together hanging out as kids, that one action by the new boy on the block sticks in my mind. He saw something that was not right, and he did something about it. Not knowing the social lay of the land and the dynamics of the neighborhood hierarchy, he stuck his neck out for me. That is bravery.

Now I’m not advocating fighting as a way to resolve issues for children or adults. I was taught that it takes much more courage to walk away than to actually fight. However, when they jump on you, there are just a few hurdles you have to get over before you can walk away.

It is hard to walk away when you are at the bottom of the pile

I learned a valuable lesson from Chris that day.

Folks often do not like to stick their neck out to help other people, but when someone does, it makes our community a better place.

While that was a childhood lesson which placed something within me. As I reflected back upon the relationship that those four ladies shared, I am reminded that they stuck their necks out for one another and each other’s family again and again. Doing everything in their powers to make life better for each other and subsequently all of us, even though it wasn’t as apparent to us children. There was always something more to do when there was a need.

A mountain elf

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The winds pounded upon the side of the house sitting in the shadow of Gravelly Spur Mountain and seeped beneath the cracks around the windows and doors letting the chill of winter in the walls warmed by the wood stacked and burning in the fireplace.

The sound of bells tinkled as they were pulled from a wood box which sat by the evergreen tree placed with love in the corner of the main room.

Pearl tied the small bells with yarn to the boughs. In a small pan, Grandma Kitty popped corn which would soon string into lengths to surround the tree from top to bottom.

“Well, that should be enough,” she said. “Everyone find a place and let’s get busy.”

The time spent stringing brought all the family ‘round to sit upon every open space as stories of Christmas passed were recalled and hopes and wishes for the coming yuletide rang through the laughter.

“I want a wagon,” Nellie said as Pearl used her to model the popcorn string instead of the tree.

Little Ma, Grandad Bill’s grandmother sat closest to the fire with her sewing in hand, refreshing the dress of the angel which he would soon place on the treetop when all was said and done.

Soon one of the children started singing “Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem,” and the rest would join in as the work continued.

A knock at the door brought Bill to find no one there. He stepped outside on the porch seeing no one in sight and not a footprint visible in the light smattering of snow on the ground.

“No one is around,” he said as he returned to his work.

“It was the mountain elf making sure we were hard at work preparing for Christmas morn,” Little Ma said.

“The mountain elf,” what’s that Pearl said as she rushed by her side at the fire.

“You see when our people came to the mountains, from Scotland and Ireland, many of them came with their trunks filled with clothes and bits and pieces of the past from the old country. The elves crawled in alongside the bits and pieces and came to live here with us,” she said.

“What do the look like?” Pearl asked.

“I’ve never seen one but they say they are just like us but smaller,” she said. “They watch after the bits and pieces and make sure they are cared for.”

“Why did they bang on the door,” Pearl asked.

“The bells and this angel were some of the bits and pieces that came over and have passed down through the years,” she said. “They like to see us using them, it reminds them of home. Christmas is the time of year when we all think of home and what has come before and hopefully what will be. I think that is why they knocked, so they could look inside when the door opened. I think when we hang the bells and they ring, it brings them.”

“Do they help Santa on Christmas, is that why you call them an elf?” Pearl said.

“In a way, we are all mountain elves, we all tend to each other’s things, look after one another and help make sure that what is needed be gotten, if it can be got,” she said. “So I reckon they do help him, just like each of us do dear. Now, we best be gettin’ this tree decorated or Christmas will be come and gone and we will have missed it.”

The group begins to sing “Jingle Bells” as the popcorn is wrapped around the tree and the bells swing and ring. Pearl runs to look out the front window to see if a mountain elf may be spying from the other side.

Appalachian heartwarming with Dolly and Stella Parton, Crystal Gayle to join Opry

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Dolly and Stella Parton are coming back to NBC on Wednesday, Nov. 30 at 9 p.m. (E.S.T.) with “Christmas of Many Colors: Circle of Love.”
Both sisters make special appearances in the film, while Dolly introduces the film and serves as narrator.

DOLLY PARTON'S CHRISTMAS OF MANY COLORS: CIRCLE OF LOVE -- Season: 1-- Pictured: Dolly Parton as Painted Lady -- (Photo by: Quantrell Colbert/NBC)

DOLLY PARTON’S CHRISTMAS OF MANY COLORS: CIRCLE OF LOVE — Dolly Parton as Painted Lady  (Photo by: Quantrell Colbert/NBC)

The greatly anticipated Georgia-lensed sequel to last year’s “Coat of Many Colors” is a family-oriented, faith-based movie starring Jennifer Nettles (Grammy Award-winning singer/songwriter and actress), Ricky Schroder (Golden Globe® Award-winner for The Champ, NYPD Blue), Alyvia Alyn Lind (Blended), Kelli Berglund (Lab Rats), Mary Lane Haskell (Coat of Many Colors), Cameron Jones (Shortland Street), Stella Parton (Green Corn), Hannah Nordberg (American Pastoral), Farrah MacKenzie, Parker Sack, Forrest Deal, Dylan Michael Rowen, Blane Crockarell and Gerald McRaney (Major Dad).
The film continues with the story of young Dolly Parton as the Parton Family experiences a true Christmas miracle drawing the Partons closer together than ever – with deepened faith and love for one another. The film delivers Christmas joy and peril as an unexpected blizzard threatens the Parton family while Dolly’s and Stella’s father and his kids make sacrifices to raise enough money to finally buy his loving wife the wedding ring he could never afford. Meanwhile, an important person in little Dolly’s life begins to see that her amazing voice and musical gift might just be made for something bigger than rural Tennessee.
For those who wish to have it as a stocking stuffer, Warner Bros. Home Entertainment will make it available on DVD on Dec. 20 with special features for $19.98. To learn more about Dolly, visit DollyParton.com or about Stella, visit StellaParton.com.
Grammy-winning songstress Crystal Gayle was surprised during a recent Grand Ole Opry performance by Opry member Carrie Underwood with an invitation to become an official Opry member. Gayle will be formally inducted into the Opry on Jan. 21, 2017 by her sister, Opry legend Loretta Lynn. Gayle made her Opry debut nearly 50 years ago on the Ryman Auditorium stage, singing the country classic “Ribbon of Darkness” at age 16.
Underwood surprised the sold-out Opry at the Ryman crowd by joining Gayle on the smash hit crystal-gayle“Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.” Seconds after finishing the duet, Underwood turned to Gayle and said, “You are an inspiration to so many of us. You are important to country music, and you are important to the Opry, which is why I was asked tonight to ask you if you would like to join our Opry family officially.”
Accepting her friend’s invitation with a hug, Gayle said, “I have always felt like I was a member of the family and this is just so special.”
“For more than half of the Opry’s 91 years, Crystal Gayle has been lending her signature vocals to Opry shows and connecting with Opry audiences as well as with everyone backstage,” said Opry Vice President and General Manager Pete Fisher. “She is family, and we are very excited that she’ll become an official Opry member early next year.”
For more information, visit crystalgayle.com.

 

Civility, is it “Gone with the Wind?”

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As I have surfed through social media and watched news reports of late highlighting the actions displayed following our elections, it has broken my heart to see that we are at the point when men and women cannot be more effectively self-governing with their words and actions.
Many years ago, I penned the following thoughts which reflected on the changes of civility I was seeing in my native South. It saddens me beyond end to see the impact that mass media, music, education, and upbringing has had on the next generation as exhibited of late, so I thought I would find some hope in these thoughts:
I have been blessed to travel to many parts of the United States. But there is no feeling to me like crossing those imaginary lines created to define the South.
I breathe easier. I worry less. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the portrayals of Southern gentility in Hollywood movies.
In 1939, there was nothing more shocking in film than Rhett Butler’s “Frankly Scarlet, I don’t …” You know the rest.
In the 1960s, television gave us shows like “The Andy Griffith Show,” which were still genteel on and off the screen. I remember George “Goober” Lindsey once relaying a story about him saying a few off-color words while waiting for the next shot on the set. He did this in spite of a warning by actress Frances “Aunt Bee” Bavier, paraphrasing, “That we don’t speak that way on this set.” She pummeled him with her umbrella. He didn’t do it anymore.
“Civility” refers to the politeness we see every day. The things that make the day a little nicer. These are the things that most Southern parents instill in their children. At least I hope they still do. “Yes, sir,” “No, ma’am,” “Please,” “Thank you,” “Respect your elders,” “Ladies, first,” and “Don’t cuss” are just a few of these civilities.
In my travels, I’ve been places where these acts are so alien to them they look at you like you’re from another planet. Where foul language flows like water from a faucet. Where if you stopped to show respect to a funeral procession, you would probably wind up in one yourself, in the lead car.
What is sad to me, in my recent travels around the South, I’m seeing more and more examples of Southern civility fading. The sales clerk or cash register attendant who ignores you or doesn’t respond to your greeting. The person who doesn’t respond to a kindness like holding a door with a “thank you.” Young people not showing respect for their elders. Foul language ringing out in public.
I don’t know whether these examples are due to a lack of parenting, a lack of respect for others, or the saturation of poor-quality TV, films and music in our society during the last few years. Variety of program choices is both a blessing and a curse. Unfortunately, language and visual images that wouldn’t make our series “In the Heat of the Night” in 1990 are now commonplace on the networks. I think Southern civility is becoming a victim of us trying to fit into what we are seeing on television and in film.
In recent years, Southerners in series television act more like transplants from Los Angeles or New York with a Southern accent. Considering that’s where they are probably from, it’s not surprising. The late Carroll O’Connor once told me that “we all say things to be polite.” For example, “Can I help you with that?” when someone is carrying a load, expecting, maybe hoping for, “No thanks, I got it.”
I hope we never lose that in the South. Kindness, politeness, Southern civility is not “Gone with the Wind.” It’s hopefully just swaying a bit in the breeze of popular culture. Maybe it’s just gonna take a few more Aunt Bee’s to remind all of us Goobers how things are supposed to be.
I pray that Americans will once again find the civility and respect for each other that is not only expected but required for a democratic republic to endure and thrive. May God bless us and keep us, everyone.