Comments:

Bluegrass at BAMA JAM a hit!

In the aftermath of BAMA JAM 08, I have found very little written about the “other” stage hosting some of the biggest names in Bluegrass Music.  So, I guess it is up to me.

Sure, Hank JR, ZZ Top, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, Nanci Griffith, Trace Adkins and others grabbed the headlines on the main stage and alternative stages but for bluegrass aficionados, BAMA JAM was nothing less than hog heaven.

The whole weekend was the brainchild of developer, entertainer, promoter, and entrepreneur Ronnie Gilley.  Gilley delivered everything he promised and a whole lot more.

Framed by more than 600 acres, the three stage music Mecca attracted one of the biggest crowds to every grace a south Alabama peanut field. 

In fact, on Saturday night, BAMA JAM was the fifth largest city in Alabama. I checked and found that only Birmingham, Montgomery, Mobile, and Huntsville had a greater population last week.  The Dothan Eagle put the number at 111,000 Saturday night.

Soaring temperatures apparently kept no one away.  In fact, it may have actually added to the ambiance by creating a mist of red dust that easily whipped into frenzy when helicopters shuttled stars to and from the concert areas.  It was like theatrical fog rising above the set to create this ominous, something big is about to happen feeling.

Claire Lynch, a rising bluegrass star from north Alabama, called the red ring around everyone’s feet an “Alabama tattoo” since it came from the dry red clay that permeated everything including hair and eyes.  It was hot.  Real hot!  Combine the red dust with 95 degree temperatures and you get nasty.

But I will not spend a lot of time whining about discomforts.  There was too much history being made to let global warming ruin a good music convention.  My attention was focused on the bluegrass stage where I, and several hundred other fans, witnessed one of the best shows ever staged in this part of the country. 

I enjoyed Friday’s shows so much; I went back Saturday for a double dose.  With me were two of my closest friends, Mike Owen and Tony Moore.

I would have been fine just seeing Dr. Ralph Stanley on the Friday show.  I have planned to see him for years and never quite made it. 

I once packed a tent, sleeping bag, guitar, and several other useless accessories and headed for Guyton, Georgia to see him perform.  I arrived on Thursday and he was scheduled to play Friday.  But after camping on the hard, cold, October ground, I was so miserable, I packed up and came back home accepting the fact that I am too old and out of shape to sleep on the ground anymore. 

I thought I might never get a chance to see him again.  So, thank you Ronnie Gilley for including him in the line-up.

Even at 81 years of age, Dr. Ralph put on a great show.  I was more than happy.  His lonesome, pain riddled, soulful, mountain voice is still strong.  He is the real deal, an American original, and a national treasure. 

Blue Highway, my favorite bluegrass band, opened the show Saturday.  Their strong writing, skillful musicianship, and unique sound is driven by one of the best Dobro players ever, Rob Ickes. He has helped etch a place in bluegrass history for Blue Highway. 

Mountain Heart, Dan Tyminski, and Del McCoury played Saturday afternoon.  All three bands are as good as it gets.  The afternoon bluegrass event ended with a performance by Ricky Skaggs.  His band, Kentucky Thunder, can blister a set a strings. 

When Skaggs finished playing, I decided to walk over the main stage to see how many people had assembled to see Skynyrd and Williams.  I had deliberately stayed clear of the two other stages because, well, lets face it, I’m a little older and I just didn’t think I would fit in.  It isn’t my style of music and although I admire the country music giants and the icons of rock, I like bluegrass, old country, and some classical. Mozart, at least, wrote a few fiddle breaks in his concertos. 

But my curiosity got the best of me.  I could hear the thump of the bass speakers and mummer of the crowd.  I had to at least peek. 

As I crested the top of a terraced hill and looked upon the army where the main stage was located, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Oh my!  Thousands and thousands and thousands of fans spread out in chairs, on blankets, or standing in front of the stage. 

I have never seen anything like it.  It was a sea of souls; a dancing drove; a swaying swarm; a valley of volume; a nation of nasty.  It was Woodstock for rednecks.

Skynyrd was just starting to play.  The band members were tiny dots on the stage and even the big video screens were insignificant at the very back of the crowd. 

I was shocked when I heard that 88,000 came to see ZZ top and Trace Adkins on Friday night, but even that paled to the estimated 111,000 that piled onto the farm to see the Saturday show. 

It was a feast for the eyes. 

It was such a huge horde of humans that I was convinced my social anxieties would explode if I stood there a minute longer.  There was no way I was going to merge with more than a 100,000 people, most of whom had been consuming three dollar beer all day and night.  And the lines at the public port-a-potty were longer than the lines at the beer booths.  I couldn’t tell if they were dancing with the music or dancing for relief. 

There was a time, years ago, that I would have happily dove into that crowd.  I would have been just as dusty, just as sweaty, and just as beer laden as the rest.  I have always been a hippie at heart.  I just got older and spoiled.

But for all the masses that assembled for the BAMA JAM, there were relatively few problems.  The crowd was well behaved and seemingly well pleased. 

My hat is off to the city of Enterprise, Alabama, and all of the state and local officials that helped Ronnie Gilley make the BAMA JAM a success.  Together with all the fans and all the talent, it was a major musical memory.

<< Back to main