This gorgeous, sun-streaked scene greeted me Sunday morning, September 14, 7:50am, last day of the Jerusalem Ridge Festival, as I drove in to start parking cars.
Of course, I had to stop and take a photo. Those of you familiar with Jerusalem Ridge will recognize this as the place where Charlie Monroe’s house used to sit.
The day before, on Saturday, when the Caney Creek Gang played at 11:50am, I sang Charlie’s classic “I’m Coming Back, but I Don’t Know When.”
I’ve always had a special place in my heart for Charlie because I lived there in his old home from ‘72 to ‘77. Like so many other bluegrass fans, I try to play and sing a Charlie Monroe tune every now and then, so he won’t be forgotten or lost to the ravages of time.
My family was living in Charlie’s old home and I was eight-yrs-old when I met Charlie’s famous younger brother Bill Monroe
I wrote a poem about that encounter and published it in my 2005 book Monroe Country…
First Impression
I go back to Charlie’s house, 1975.
Morning, Mom still in her housecoat,
Little brother & me still in our pajamas.
I didn’t hear the knock at the front door,
The door we never used.
But we’re there now, brothers clinging
To Mom’s housecoat, huddled behind,
Peeking out & around, through the front door.
He is there, a statue,
A kindly man I don’t know.
Mom is not the Mom I do know.
She is beside herself.
She tells him to go ahead,
He can drive back across the property
To his old home.
We only rent, we don’t own the place.
He nods & is about to go.
Mom stammers,
“Mr. Monroe, can I shake your hand?”
Yes! A current runs through us.
We quiver as he turns
& glides back to his vehicle.
On the last morning of the 2025 festival, 50 years after that encounter, I stepped out to photograph the beauty laid before me. I felt at peace with Charlie’s house being demolished.
It felt like God was showing me that even in a place where something was lost or had died or ceased to exist, even there, beauty and wonder and grace can be found.
This old world can seem pretty evil, dark and drear some days, but remember—the good and the beautiful is still there. In fact, it’s everywhere!
