Witnessing Hurricane Helene: September 2024

The flooding started in my section of the French Broad River (Olivette neighborhood in Woodfin just north of Asheville) on Thursday morning with a different storm system that flooded some roads on Wednesday evening. I had never seen the water breach the shore, so I took this picture to alert the neighborhood. September 26, 8:12am

The hurricane had not arrived in our region, but I was already seeing flooding I had never seen before from rains that began late afternoon on Wednesday, September 25. In this picture taken only 30 minutes later than the one above (Thursday, September 26 at 8:38am) the water had risen even more. (Note the bench overlooking the river is now almost surrounded by water.)

Friday morning around 6am cell service and power went out. Neighbors had also mentioned on Wednesday that water pressure was low, so, although we all still had water we were starting to wonder for how long. Friday, Sep 27 at 9:53am.

The headwaters of the French Broad are located in Rosman, southwest of Asheville--in areas that (from glimpses of forecasts on Thursday when we still had internet and cell service) were forecast to get around 10 inches of rain with the hurricane. The river then meanders northeast (with countless runoffs, creeks and rivers flowing into it) past the Asheville airport, through the Biltmore property to Asheville where the Swannanoa River joins it (the Swannanoa River flows from the Black Mountain area west through Swannanoa, East Asheville, Biltmore Village and on into the Frenc Broad). The joined rivers then run straight through the River Arts district in Asheville. Pic: Friday, September 27, 9:54am.

The French Broad is very wide in my neighborhood. There is a park on the edge of the river and a raised railroad bed (15 feet or so??) and then another large field that is kind of a wetland and protects the houses below mine. Many homes and businesses in western NC, however, are located near narrow creeks and rivers with often only one road in and out. Pic: Friday, September 27, 9:52am.

Small, meandering creeks are especially dangerous. Even a small amount of water running down a hill is incredibly powerful. And in these little creeks, the water can rise higher than you think is even possible because the water has nowhere to go (and it sweeps everything in its way along with it). There are creeks like this all over western NC. Most eventually find their way to a river. This is Lees Creek in my neighborhood that feeds into the French Broad. Fortunately, no homes or structures are located near the creek. Picture Friday, Sep 27, 9:52am.

The "Pavilion" is the only structure in the park below my house. The water has now completely surrounded it. (The hurricane by this point has passed through Asheville.) Picture: Friday 10:32am

The French Broad River (south of us) runs north right through Asheville's River Arts district (with a greenway and many businesses and restaurants). (The River Arts district is the area seen on most broadcasts about the flood in Asheville.) After passing through Asheville, the river then continues north into Woodfin where it narrows and runs along Riverside drive where many businesses and homes are located including an enormous pipe manufacturing plant (Silver-Line Plastics). I do not know anything about how the businesses and homes along Riverside Drive have fared (or if Riverside Drive is even there). All I know is I began to see masses of pipes begin to wash downstream. (Note the large black pipe in the picture.) The debris from Silver-Line Plastics would have needed to go over the Craggy Dam Reservoir. Picture: Friday 11:38am.

The roar and speed of the water--even at this very wide portion of the river--was frightening. And all that water and everything it was headed north to friends and family in Marshall, Hot Springs and on into Tennessee. Video: Friday, September 27, 11:49am (around two hours after the eye passed through).

The water kept rising--and was starting to near the stack of picnic tables and benches my neighbors had tried to move to "safety". The black square in the water in the foreground is trash cans anchored to the ground. Picture: Friday, September 27, 11:55am

Most of the riverfront park area at this point was submerged. Picture: Friday, September 27, 1:11pm

And the water kept rising. (Notice the trash cans are almost completely submerged by this point.) Pictures: Friday 2:14pm

It wasn't until Friday afternoon when I finally got out and talked to neighbors that I realized the eye of the storm had gone right over us. One huge tree fell on my neighbors' drive (missing their house by inches), another enormous tree fell on a house just a few hundred feet up the road and another fell on a neighbor's carport (and one in my backyard that didn't damage anything). It didn't take much imagination to extrapolate that if all these trees had fallen within a quarter mile radius of my house how many trees must have fallen on houses, cars, power lines, interstates, mountainsides and trails in the area. Picture: Friday, September 27 at 11:53am.

When I walked down to the riverfront I counted 3 enormous trees that had fallen on the railroad tracks at both ends of the riverfront. And that is only what I could see of about 1/2 mile of railroad track. We won't be seeing trains come through for quite a while. Picture: Friday, September 27 at 3:13pm.

And the water kept rising on a cruelly gorgeous sunny, fall afternoon. Picture: Friday, September 27, 3:35pm

This is where Lees Creek enters the French Broad. There used to be land here on both sides of the creek with a pedestrian bridge that ran over the creek to a little park area we called "Azalea Island". Picture: Friday, September 27, 3:47pm

The water continued to near the roof of the Pavilion as it got dark Friday night (around 8pm). This was the last video I took on Friday. Video: Friday , September 27, 4:48pm.

The next morning we saw that the Pavilion was still standing (unlike so many other homes and businesses). We were also relieved to see that the water was starting to slowly recede. Picture: Saturday , Sseptember 28, 11:20am

No lives or homes or businesses were lost in my neighborhood. I share these photos as just one small glimpse of what the winds and water wrought in a relatively sheltered part of the area. As I write this post the most pressing problem for my neighbors and the whole region is the problem of drinkable water. The storm damaged numerous treatment facilities all throughout the area (including ours) as well as above and below ground pipes that distribute that water. So many roads, bridges and sections of interstate have been washed out complicating repairs to all the infrastructure (I40 E and W of Asheville and I26 N are currently impassable--the only interstate in and out is I26 south of Asheville). Cell service returned to my neighborhood yesterday and power is expected to be back on for most of our county by Friday. But meanwhile, so many people are cutoff from the aid they need (especially water) due to roads being washed out or covered by trees. I am so grateful for the thousands of emergency responders, work crews and neighbors who are working so hard to care for people, get them to safety and restore infrastructure. The emergency will last for weeks. The cleanup and rebuilding will take years. I think also of people throughout our world who are suffering in wars and other devastation much greater than this. My heart goes out to you all.

Performing "Edge of a Hurricane" over the years

I have been performing the song “Edge of a Hurricane” for gigs since 2016 and have recorded several videos of the song as well.. Some of the most memorable occasions include:

• self-recorded YouTube video/demo of the newly written song on Election Day, November 9, 2016 (video is only accessible via this old blog post).

• first live performance: an encore for my Something True cd release concert at Charlotte Starroom on December 16, 2016 with artists Chris Rosser and Cheryl Hoover (pic at left). I sat down at the keyboard and played it for the first time in front of an audience. (Blog post of that performance here.)

• a 2017 video-taped performance at Midwood Guitar in Charlotte (video only accessible via this old blog post).

• a 2019 live performance at a fundraiser for the Men’s Shelter of Charlotte (now “Roof Above”). Description here (but never did get the video recording). I will never forget seeing a man standing in the door to the kitchen listening to the song with tears running down his face.

• hiring Charlotte Starroom in 2019 to videotape a live recording of “Edge of a Hurricane” in my (former) backyard in Charlotte, NC. My reflections when I posted the video were about the importance of not giving in to bullying and hatred.

• in August 2021 when I performed a concert to celebrate the opening of Josh Copus’s “Old Marshall Jail” as a boutique hotel. I rented out the entire hotel for family and friends.

• in 2022 at a fundraiser for my friend, Manolo Betancur, who was traveling to Ukraine to help rebuild bakeries destroyed during the war with Russia. Manolo is also the one who repurposed my “Edge of a Hurricane” song as a fundraiser on Instagram for victims of the 2024 Hurricane Helene.

• in July 2024 for Chatt Hills’ “Sundays on the River” at Olivette Pavilion in Asheville, NC. Cd release of the album Edge of a Hurricane. I created a new video version with pictures from the hurricane and its aftermath. Two places featured in the video (Olivette Pavilion and the Old Marshall Jail) are places that experienced extreme flooding during the hurricane.

Witnessing a wedding during Hurricane Matthew in 2016

As prescient as the song “Edge of a Hurricane” seems after Hurricane Helene in 2024, I actually wrote the song about another hurricane that barely touched the area In 2016. (You can read the original blog post and listen to my “demo” recording of it here.) My family and I had accidentally walked by two people getting married in a wedding circle near the Pavilion at Olivette in Asheville, NC. We had traveled to Asheville from Charlotte to get a way from the remnants of Hurricane Matthewn and were exploring the waterfront area of a brand new development that didn't even have houses in it yet. We had bought a lot and planned to build there and wanted to show our family the new development.

We crossed over the bridge from the Pavilion area to an area called “Azalea Island” and there they were: the couple, the officiant and the photographer. As we backed away from the ceremony, I noticed two umbrellas beside the bridge. I realized this couple planned to get married even if it meant marrying during a hurricane. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. My first impulse had been to run over to them and offer to sing something, but then I thought: “what would you sing for a couple getting married in a hurricane?” And that’s when the song began to start to take shape in my head (“I wish you peace; I wish you hope; I wish you love”).

Reactivating my Blog

Most fans prefer to follow artists on social media rather than artists’ websites. Knowing that preference, I created a presence on social media sites as they came into being and posted diligently for several years. But social media is not a medium that fits the way I prefer to communicate, and it was taking time away from creating music (why I started this journey), so a few years ago I shifted to communicating with my fans mainly through my newsletters (and the larger public via radio interviews, podcasts and occasional social media posts).

I knew blog posts were completely outdated by then, so I only posted rarely. I kept the section live on my website as a kind of history—mainly for myself. But as I geared up for various album releases, I was told that not having a continuous stream of current information on my website made me look unprofessional, so I finally took down the “Blog” post section of my website some time in late 2021. But I didn’t delete it. It was my history.

Today I’m reactivating my blog (and renaming it “journal”) because I realized the stories from my journey are important to me. And it gives fans a greater understanding of my music knowing some of these stories. In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, I also have a story to tell about my song “Edge of a Hurricane” (written in 2016) that involves references to many of my old blog posts and videos. I am creating a new video from a July 2024 live performance of “Edge of a Hurricane” with pictures from the Sep 2024 hurricane and it’s aftermath. All of the pictures will be of two places I have performed in that are very dear to me (the “Pavilion” at Olivettte in Asheville and “Zadie’s” at the “Old Marshall Jail” in Marshall, NC.

I hope these stories reach some people who want and need to hear them. I don’t have any interest in “going viral” (isn’t that an illness?!). I activate this part of my website again fully knowing that that act is somewhat akin to putting a handwritten note in a bottle and throwing it in the ocean. I hope these stories eventually find a shore—and a reader.

Old Marshall Jail Hotel, Bar and Zadie's Market and Restaurant

Back in 2016 Josh Copus (talented artist and potter) told my husband and me about an old jail he planned to renovate into a boutique hotel. Josh’s wife, Emily Copus, had opened a flower business (a business her great-grandfather had once been in), Carolina Flowers and they were living in historic Marshall, NC (20 minutes north of Asheville).

Closed in 2012, the jail was the longest operating jail in NC (116 years). Josh and Emily knew that a building that old in such a tiny town (population of less than 1,000 at the last census) would have a deep and long history for his neighbors, so, as a newcomer, he knew the most important first step in his planned renovation was to first get to know his neighbors and the history of the town and the jail. So he did what a potter knew how to do. He made bricks out of clay—right there at the busiest intersection in town—and invited anyone and everyone to stop by, meet him and stamp a message on a brick that Josh would then fire in a kiln and use in renovating and repairing the jail. He did this for months (if not years!) The day Dan and I made our bricks (see my Instagram post in October 2017), a Marshall native (and former deputy at the jail) finally succumbed to curiosity and stopped by the jail. Josh took all of us on a tour (pre-renovation), telling us of his plans and listening to the man’s stories of the jail.

For 5 years Dan and I have followed Josh’s work as he has painstakingly renovated the hotel doing most of the renovation work himself—to save money but also so that he could uncover and preserve as much history as he could. Old bed frames became roof tiles, iron jail mechanisms now hide the kitchen pantries. I had never thought about how much a jail could reveal about a community—what it valued, how the community did and did not look after each other—but, clearly, Josh had.

Meanwhile Emily Copus had also been investing in and learning about the community. She expanded her flower business into events and delivery and began planning a storefront (Carolina Flowers Mercantile). When the grand opening was disrupted by the pandemic she morphed her flower delivery service into a grocery delivery for local farmers and producers.

And now, finally—in the middle of a pandemic—the renovation is complete and Josh and Emily have opened the hotel, a bar, a deli and restaurant in the historic space. Emily has opened “Zadie’s Market and Deli” in the hotel and has collaborated with John Fleer, James Beard awarded Asheville chef, to also open a restaurant.

I greatly admire these two talented, tenacious young people and want to help them succeed by telling as many people as I can about their businesses, so I have rented out the entire hotel for the last Friday night in August (27th from 5-7pm) and have invited my fans to join me on the patio of the new hotel for a fun evening of music and food. If you can’t attend the gig, please make plans to stay at the hotel (or at least stop by for food and drink) at another time.

The patio Parker and I will be performing on (and you will be dining on) is partially made up of the bricks that Josh and the community made over the past 5 years (more bricks in the walls and front sidewalk…you can help us look for the bricks Dan and I made in 2017!). Pretty cool.

"We Go On" #14 Album and Katie Oates #28 Artist on Folk Charts for January!

Very grateful to the djs who gave an unknown artist a chance and listened to my album—they even started airing songs before the release date (January 26)! The djs also played a wide selection of the 14 songs on the album, so no one song has emerged—yet—as a favorite (and none appeared on the most played song chart). It’s a thrill to see my name listed with so many artists I admire. Many thanks to Art Menius and Si Kahn for their hard work and support.

We Go On: Si Kahn's Songs of Hope in Hard Times

The new cd is now available on all streaming services!! Feel free to contact me directly (info@katieoatesmusic.com) for a copy of the physical cd. Video release event is scheduled for Sunday, February 21st at 5:00 pm live on my YouTube site!

Folk DJ Emerging Artist Showcase

I was honored to have been chosen by Bob Weiser (DJ for WFMR community radio in Orleans, Massachusetts) for the 2021 Folk DJ Emerging Artist Showcase on January 23, 2021. (Details on my schedule page here.) The showcase (usually held at NERFA in the fall) was hosted by The Folk Music Notebook’s YouTube page and on their website. Archive of the performance and live chat can be viewed on those pages. It was a great show! To watch only my section of the showcase, go to my videos page or my youtube site.

Article about music video in Gaston Gazette

Link to the online article here. (It was published in the print version of the Gaston Gazette on 12/29/20.)

"Here in Gastonia" (pre-release single for my new cd "We Go On")

Thanks to Bob Weiser of “The Old Songs Home” on WFMR 91.3 radio in Orleans, Massachusetts for being the first dj to play a song on air (November 30, 2020) from my new cd (We Go On: Si Kahn’s Songs of Hope in Hard Times). “Here in Gastonia” is being released as a single ahead of the full album release on January 29, 2021. Bob saw the video premiere on “The Bluegrass Situation” and recognized The Loray Mill in Gastonia from when he used to visit the Firestone plant there in the 1980s. (Bob also grew up near mill towns in the Northeast). I have many past blog posts about this song and a song I wrote for the Mill Mother’s Lament cd. (This post is a good place to start). Lyrics for the song are reprinted here with permission from Si Kahn. Copyright is held by Si and Joe Hill Music, LLC.

“Here in Gastonia” by Si Kahn

Where are the bobbins/ Where are the cards
Where are the boys/ Telling jokes in the yard
Where are the spindles/ Where are the looms
The white cotton bales/ In the opening room

            Here in Gastonia/ Here in Gastonia/ Here in Gastonia/ Here in Gastonia

No one walks to their shift/ From a house on Mill Hill
There’s condos for sale/ At the Old Loray Mill
Listen hard as you can/ By the brick weave room wall
Where the din made you deaf/ Now there’s sound at all

But on a warm September night/ If you stop on the street
You can feel the ground shake/ From their proud marching feet
Hear those young women’s voices/ So scared and so bold
Who risked all they had/ In that strike long ago

Do you spin for your children/ Those tales of pure gold
How they stood up so strong/ Like your grandmother told
Do you give thanks/ For the price that they paid
To leave us the good lives/ We lead today

© Joe Hill Music LLC (ASCAP)  All rights reserved

Single from next cd premiering as music video on The Bluegrass Situation

If you want to understand someone, walk in their shoes. This past fall Tom Hanchett, Parker Foley and I walked the halls of the historic Loray Mill—a one million square foot textile mill in Gastonia, NC. We taped a video on site that premieres November 23, 2020 on “The Bluegrass Situation”. The video includes historical as well as present day photographs of the mill where in 1929 the textile workers went on strike, holding protests meetings and marches in Gastonia, NC.

Many labor strikes in the early 20th century were met with fear, community division, and violence—especially if Black workers were involved (see history of the Elaine Massacre in 1919). Gastonia was no exception. Mother of ten, textile worker, balladeer, and union organizer, Ella May Wiggins (who advocated for including Black textile workers in the union) was shot and murdered at the age of 29 while in a pickup truck on the way to a union meeting. The strike ended in failure soon after her death. Ella May’s fight for better wages was only spoken of in hushed whispers for decades until her great-great granddaughter, Kristina Horton, began researching her history and wrote a book: "Martyr of Loray Mill" about her.

Si Kahn’s song about the striking laborers, “Here in Gastonia” is being released as a single ahead of my 2021 cd release: “We Go On: Si Kahn’s Songs of Hope in Hard Times”. The music video is dedicated to Ella May. Her fight for better wages and living conditions for laborers continues today.

Several years ago David Childers asked local musicians to help him create a cd to raise money for a statue of Ella May. Si and I both wrote and recorded songs for the limited release cd project. Still no statue (turns out no one buys cds anymore!) but the effort goes on. You can view my past blog posts about the project here: announcing the cd project April 5, 2015. The song I wrote for the cd project (“Dark Clouds”). The Cd release party on August 10, 2015. Gaston Gazette article August 21, 2015. The opening of the history museum at Loray Mill on April 17, 2016.

This video (shot by Charlotte Star Room) is a single from the upcoming January 29, 2021 cd release: “We Go On: Si Kahn’s Songs of Hope in Hard Times” . Both the cd and video remind us of the sacrifices people make in the fight for justice—past, present and future. We will continue their struggle. We Go On.

Recording During a Pandemic

Parker at Stone Temple Studios—all masked up!

Debrissa McKinney recording the harmony tracks at Hollow Reed Arts. Love working with Debrissa. Not only talented but fun and stays so positive even when things aren’t flowing right. Thank you Debrissa!

Whose Labor is Your Life’s Foundation Built Upon?

We give lip service to “essential workers” during a pandemic, and are about to celebrate a holiday for those who “labor”, but these recognitions often don’t help the most vulnerable of workers.  We buy and eat berries but don’t give much thought to who grew those berries, picked them by hand, and delivered them to the marketplace. We buy a piece of clothing online and don’t give a thought to how it was made or who made it (and who delivers it to our door). Teachers, health care and nursing home workers, janitors, service and tourist industry workers: the list goes on and on of people we deeply depend upon, but who are often not compensated fairly or have limited control over their work lives. I’ve read many good articles recently about some of these people (migrant farm workers), a transit worker in New York, and a woman returning home to the South and overcoming a fraught relationship with the people and the land.

A Song and Remembrance for Memorial Day

Thousands of movies and stories remember wars (and those who have died) in epic tales of valor and heroism, horror and tragedy. Wars have started for many reasons throughout human history—sometimes to protect home and family but so often, unfortunately, in service to power and money. But for all of wars’ scope and impacts—often altering the course of human history—wars are fought and experienced in deeply personal ways. So it is fitting that Ed Williams begins his reflections not with grandiose homages to honor, duty and courage but with the deeply personal—a family scrapbook his Mother kept.

Among the pictures and remembrances is a letter from Ed’s father written in October 1944 from the USS St Lo during WWII. Historians (such as my mother) recognize this ship’s name and infamous date from the Battle of Leyte Gulf. But I did not know the history (until hearing Ed’s essay) and was lulled by the sweet banality of Ed’s father’s letter: the boredom, the confusion (his father got the date wrong), and the hints of his longing for home (wondering what 3-year-old Ed might want for Christmas) and family (he speculates his brother is on a nearby ship). (If you aren’t a historian—and even if you are—watch the video to find out about the historic event.)

I suspect part of why Ed wanted to include my performance of “Dear Sister” (I have a previously recorded video of it that is a favorite of Ed’s) is because the song begins with a letter from a soldier to family during another momentous war. And that soldier also misses and longs for home.

“Home” has a different resonance for all of us during this current pandemic—the closest to a cataclysmic war-like event most of us have ever experienced. Home has become a place for work, school and confinement. It has been the only way that most of us can participate in sacrifice on behalf of others—by simply staying home. But the meaning still resonates. We have become even more painfully aware during this pandemic of the injustice and suffering and capriciousness of life in this world of ours. We all long for a place where “all is bright and fair” and all of humankind can find a place of safety, justice, happiness and belonging.

Today as we honor those who have died in service of others, may we resolve to work toward a world with no need for war and where all of humankind can live together in peace—home, sweet home.

Singing To My Computer

What a world of change since my last blog post. From intimate house concert to singing on a Zoom call with 300 other people (and others watching on youtube). (The picture above was taken before the call officially started. And yes, that is Mark Peres’ book of his writing from his podcast “On Life and Meaning” that my computer is propped up on. Dan’s episode of the podcast here; mine here.) Given that all gigs have disappeared for a couple of months—at a minimum—I was delighted to be asked by the local chapter of Creative Mornings to be one of the musicians on their first virtual event. What a learning experience! I’m fairly new to Zoom but have been using it a lot recently for family calls, yoga sessions, and board meetings. But music—that’s another whole thing. Getting the sound right for performances is always hard but when it is squeezed through an app and directed onto people’s personal computers?? Ugh. Really not the medium.

My first try at getting the sound right was to sing through a mic, plug in my guitar to the speaker and let my computer pick up that sound. It worked OK in the run-through (as we all learned about how to use the “raise your hand” feature so the moderator can feature you on the feed). Then I tried plugging my vocal and guitar directly into the computer (which involved a lot of old equipment I hadn’t used since I first started doing youtube videos). I did solo Zoom calls, recorded it and then watched it offline. I sounded like I was singing under water. So I spent an afternoon tweaking computer software and drivers and inputs. Good grief. Not my strength.

Finally Steve from Skookum did a Zoom call with me. Best result? Plugging my guitar into the sound system and singing without a mic. That’s a first. Something about the way the sound was being picked up, it kept cutting out the guitar! So I sang to a computer with my guitar booming in my ear. In the end it’s all about the connections we make, not a perfect sounding performance, right? Anway, enjoy the video. My portion is a little over 45 minutes in (at @-48:01). As John Prine would say, it’s a “big old goofy world” isnt’ it?

Screen shots of the comments after my performance. (I turned off my video feed so no one would see me messing around on my computer!)

…and more comments

Heartwarming House Concert

Such a delightful evening with many thoughtful, engaged Charlotte folks. Delighted to have made my mentor, Si Kahn, and my parents proud! Folks had such kind things to say about my interpretations of Si’s songs as well as my own: one minute tapping their feet, the next teary eyed, the next on their feet cheering. What an amazing evening. Thank you to Tracy Watts and Jack Oates for the pictures, all who came out and Parker, Tom, and Lou for sharing their talents.

Can Music Change the World?

My friend and mentor, Si Kahn, pondered this question in an article for The Progressive Magazine (Dec 2019/Jan 2020):

 “A lot of people say, oh, music can change the world,” [but Si counters] “only if it’s accompanied by direct action organizing. People say, ‘Well, look at the civil rights movement. All those songs, didn’t they make a difference?’ I say, yes, of course they did. They sustained the people who made the movement. The songs were important. But songs alone, poetry alone, any of the arts alone, they don’t change the world. That takes organizing and direct action.”

As I contemplate my next cd project, I have decided I want to feature some of Si Kahn’s (as well as some of my own) songs that speak up for those who are disempowered, that advocate for justice and compassion and that encourage us all to act on behalf of a better world for us all. I hope to make a cd that will be thought-provoking, compassionate, hopeful, encouraging, and perhaps a little discomfiting, but I am under no misconception that singing about justice will be enough.

I recently attended a lecture by Bryan Stevenson, founder of the Equal Justice Initiative and best selling author of Just Mercy (recently made into a movie starring Jamie Foxx). Mr. Stevenson, a lawyer, is doing the hard work of societal change by representing people sentenced to death row and bringing attention to the history of racism and lynching in our country (through his writing and speaking and building monuments and museums). He encouraged the audience that even though our societal problems seem at times too big to change, individuals can make a difference by becoming proximate to injustice (ie, befriending and bearing witness with people who are disenfranchised), changing the narrative, remaining hopeful, and being willing to put ourselves in situations that might be uncomfortable. Mr. Stevenson’s primary motivation is not retribution but reconciliation. We are all broken—only through caring for each other and making amends for past wrongs—can we all become whole.

I want to follow Mr. Stevenson’s and Si Kahn’s advice and example through the music I make and the actions I take. I hope my music, words and actions will inspire others to do the same.

"Who is My Neighbor?"

Most of us if asked “Who is my neighbor?” would reply that neighbors are the people who live in the houses or apartments near us—the people we might call if we need a cup of rice or someone to watch for packages being delivered while we are out of town. We help our neighbors, and our neighbors help us. But, given a bit more time to consider, we might also note a sense of larger interconnectedness (eg, “neighboring cities, counties, states and countries”); after all, “neighbors” who live farther away can also impact our lives. And not taking care of our neighbors can put us in economic, religious, and political peril.

Jesus is asked this same question by a Jewish expert in law (in the New Testament of the Bible, Luke 10:25-37). He has just praised the lawyer’s summary of what one must do to inherit eternal life (to love God with all one’s heart, soul, mind and strength and love one’s neighbor as oneself), but the lawyer wants to absolve himself of too much responsibility, so he seeks to get Jesus to define “Who is my neighbor?” as only Jews—people like the lawyer. Jesus responds with the Parable of the Good Samaritan—after which the lawyer is forced to admit that a man who is his sworn enemy (a Samaritan) acted as the neighbor rather than the priest and scribe (whom the lawyer would have defined as his neighbor).

Like the lawyer in the gospel of Luke, many of us seem to spend our time trying to define “neighbor” on a narrow basis: the people who live on my street (ie, people who, in most neighborhoods in the world, are of the same economic class, race, and often even religious tradition). But, as Jesus reminds us, defining “neighbor” too narrowly might put us in peril—religious or otherwise.

A neighbor of mine, Manuel Manolo Betancur, owns a store specializing in sweet & savory Latin-American baked goods (Manolo’s Bakery). Originally from Colombia (South America), Manolo attended college in East Tennessee and has lived in the US for 17 years (where both of his children were born). I have rarely met someone who has a bigger heart for his neighbors. Manolo sponsors a local program (Raise You Up Ministries) that serves people experiencing homelessness. Charlotte Agenda recently profiled the work he does driving many miles throughout NC to deliver bread to workers on Christmas tree farms and elsewhere. I am looking forward to sharing some music at his bakery on January 16 and having a chance for fellowship with many of my neighbors here in Charlotte.

Manolo’s love for his neighbors inspires me to want to do more for my neighbors as well. We have had conversations about how our country’s individualistic mindset has been hard for him to understand since he comes from a culture that values the community—one’s neighbors. I have been reflecting on this question and decided to research what other religions and cultural traditions say about neighbors.

The ancient middle East had strong codes of hospitality for both the foreigner who has taken up permanent residence and the traveler passing through. Hospitality dictated that the stranger be welcomed with food, water and shelter. It was a grave offense for a stranger to either reject the proffered hospitality or betray the host after sharing a meal. Indeed, a “hospitality code” seems to be present in almost every religion or cultural tradition. It is a deep instinct to be kind to a neighbor—as that neighbor might at some point become important to survival. So it’s an important question to ask ourselves: “Who are our neighbors?” and, implicitly, what do we owe to our neighbors?

Almost every major religion has strict commandments regarding the treatment of one’s neighbor. Both Judaism (Torah) and Christianity (Old Testament) share the book of Leviticus which contains this edict: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” (Leviticus 19:18). In Hinduism the Mahabharata says “A man obtains a proper rule of action by looking on his neighbor as himself.” Buddhism teaches “Full of love for all things in the world, practicing virtue in order to benefit others, this man alone is happy.” (Dhammapada) Confucianism commands: “Seek to be in harmony with all your neighbors; live in amity with your brethren.” (Shu King 5.17.2) And Islam in the Quran (4: 36) says: “Worship Allah and associate nothing with Him, and to parents do good, and to relatives, orphans, the needy, the near neighbor, the neighbor farther away, the companion at your side, the traveler, and those whom your right hands possess.”

 Perhaps we would all benefit if we sought to “love our neighbor as ourself.”

Pictures from Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden Summer Shows

Parker, Lou and I had a great time over the summer playing for several events at Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden. Many thanks to Tracy Watts for these pictures. (Check out her other projects as well.)

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

Singing Hope and Love into the Darkness: "Edge of a Hurricane"

“But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” (Matthew 5:39, The Bible, NIV)

Yeah, right. Even as a rather dreamy-eyed child I thought this Bible verse was pretty absurd. Everyone knows how the world works: strong people get what they want; people who seem weak or powerless get taken advantage of (or worse). You can’t let a bully get away with hitting you; you have to hit them back. And I do think there are plenty of circumstances where fighting back is the right choice. I don’t think even the greatest of our teachers about nonviolence would have advocated for nonviolence in all circumstances.

But there have been times when humans have faced unspeakable evil and the most effective deterrent was nonviolence. By refusing to return violence or hatred, the evil was exposed for what it was. And things changed. Sometimes shame forces change. Sometimes it’s the loss of an enemy to rail against. Sometimes it’s finally breaking the cycle of violence, hate and retribution.

At some level we all know that you can’t get love if you don’t give it. You reap what you sow. If violence, pride, anger, and hatred is what you bring to the world, then that is what will be returned to you. But it’s a hard thing to remember when facing down someone or something that threatens to obliterate everything you hold dear. I wrote this song to remind myself—and others—that if we want peace in our lives, we must find a way to bring more and hope and love into the world through our actions and the people we encounter every day. I can’t quite bring myself to echo the “turn the other cheek” exhortation, but I can try to love more, and hate and fear less. So here’s my little contribution: I wish you peace. I wish you hope. I wish you love. Pass it on….