Hearts of Appalachia

Growing up in Appalachia meant growing up close to the land, close to our people, and close to the things most folks' hurry past. We lived a little behind the rest of the world- maybe a generation or two by their standards- but it never felt like we were lacking. Life moved slow enough for us to hear it, and we learned early that listening was half of living. Little Indian Creek Holler in Kentucky Little Indian Creek is where my days were spent. That water had its own way of talking... loud...

There’s something about music in Appalachia that isn’t just heard… it’s lived. It’s passed down in kitchens, on porches, in church pews, and in the quiet moments in between. When Laura shared this piece about the music in her family, it settled in my heart. Not just because of how beautifully she told it, but because it reflects something so many Appalachian families carry deep in their roots. My own story is a little different. Life took us all over, and while my Granny’s roots run deep in...

I didn’t grow up thinking about family history. Most of us don’t. You assume the people who raised you will always be right there — sitting in their chairs, answering the phone, telling the same stories you’ve heard a hundred times. You assume there will always be another holiday, another Sunday visit, another chance to ask the questions you never got around to. But life has a way of proving you wrong before you’re ready. In 2023, I lost my mom. In 2024, I lost my dad. And in the last six...