Tag Archives: memories

Show Stories — Grand Ole Opry

OpryLast night, the Grand Ole Opry returned home to the Opry house after the May floods.I watched the show on GAC along with thousands of other Country Music fans. My heart literally swelled with joy to see that stage and the circle and all those Opry greats on stage together for one huge homecoming night.

I can not wait to get to go and see all the changes and work that was done to bring it back home myself.

[Start rant.]

First off — I have to say this. I felt a deep anger when on my twitter feed I saw a hand full of people complain that its just a big tourist trap. Non-country fans even said during the flood that they were glad to see the Opry “go.”

Statements like that are ones that fall under, “If you don’t understand it… just shut up.” (TM – Me) Its up there with people who give me crap about being an Aggie. Some things are deeply personal. The Opry is deeply personal and revered by country music fans, artists and musicians. You don’t have to like it or understand it, but you need to respect that it means a LOT to people. A. LOT. And statements like those, are hurtful, spiteful, uncalled for and simply show an ignorance. So again. Just… shut up.

[End rant. ]

It’s been amazing to see the Opry  not miss a single performance post-flood. Thanks to the many venues around town that hosted the show the last five months, music fans could still see this wonderful show that brings the past, present and future of country music together in one place.

I remember the first time I got to go backstage at the Opry. I was in awe. I’d toured it with a tour group previously, but there is a different electricity in the air during the show.

I found a strange irony when I realized I was wearing the high heels I’d bought to wear to my senior prom, and they clicked on the asphalt parking long, down the sidewalk and then into the building. Ever since then, any time I’ve had the opportunity it go to the Opry (be it at the Opry House or the Ryman), I still go with a hushed respect for the history the Opry carries.

Joe Diffie on the OpryI’ve had the honor of meeting so many country greats that I know my parents and even my grandparents followed back in the day. I sometimes have to remind myself not to go all “fan girl” on them!

You can almost feel the ghosts of Hank Williams, Patsy Cline and Porter Wagner walking those halls along side you. You can see the excitement and nervousness of those getting ready to take the stage.You can see the awe in the eyes of the new artists taking the stage for the very first time.

Ironically, a week or two before the flood, my husband played the Opry. We stood outside the bus and watched the sky churn grey to black to green with spring storms. We prayed there were no tornadoes in the area, all the while clueless to the fact that in a few short days, the area where we stood would be deep under water.

The footage of the Opry underwater made so many people just sick to their stomachs. Tears were shed over it. The people who say things like  I  mentioned in my rant above could never understand what that stage means to so many. There’s a respect and love that comes from the Grand Ole Opry. There are no words created to accurately describe the feelings people have for it.

It was those same feelings that brought such joy last night as those curtains parted and the show began. The circle of wood from the Ryman floor back in its place. Country greats standing on that stage singing, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” Because amazingly enough… the circle was never broken. The show went on to eventually come back home.

Welcome home, Opry. Welcome home.

Remembering 9/11

I was a student at Texas A&M University on 9-11-2001. I was keeping a daily journal in those days, and I thought that in honor of 9/11 I would copy/paste excerpts from entries about that day and the days that followed…

American Flag12:53 am September 12th, 2001

I went to school today like usual. I got good parking, sat and waited awhile, then went to my 8 AM class. Little did we all know, that as my professor began to speak on Media Economics… the American Stock Market was screeching to a halt… as did America’s sanity.

I walked to my next class with a friend. We laughed about having fallen asleep in the previous class, swapped stories about the previous weekend. We were oblivious to the blank expressions on many people around us.

In the next class there was a somber buzz. Words like “airplanes” and “World Trade Center” swirled around. “New York City” and “Washington DC” were used side by side. “Terrorists” and “Americans” used in opposition.

I could not comprehend the seriousness of the situation, and even the fact that my professor promised to let us out early didn’t really register. Something major had happened, and yet it was still too unclear for me to pay much attention.

The professor, who always keeps us late, released us half-an-hour early to go watch TV and find out what was happening now.

I couldn’t decide what to do… I was out early and had the rest of the day ahead of me. I decided to go to the library to study. […] A couple hours later, I had finished. I packed up my stuff and went over to the MSC.

I entered the MSC, and found hundreds of students around a big screen TV set on CNN. There were too many people to get a clear picture of what was happening, so I went on to the bookstore… my intended destination. There was a small TV set up in there, also on CNN.

It was there that I learned to true nature of this tragedy. I watched the footage of the second plane slam into the tower. I listened to the reporter give the run down. Then he said, “We have no way to know how many young children and teenagers were on those planes.”

I physically doubled over as if I’d been punched. I was just in shock. How? Why? Who? WHY??? For that moment, my emotions were the most intense. I was fighting tears; I was fighting the urge to scream.

I ended, however, simply in shock.

I finished my shopping, and went back to the main room of the MSC. I joined a group watching CNN on the big screen TV. There I stood in silence with my school family. We all stood together in shock… A guy asked me what had happened, and I filled him in on what I knew.

After awhile, I felt the need to leave. I needed to call my parents; I needed to get “home”.

As I made my way across campus, I noted the flags at half-staff. I noticed that most of the corp of cadets now wore their dress uniforms. I noticed the muted attitude of all the students.

I got home, and sat talking with my aunt for awhile. She filled me in on some of the stuff I was fuzzy about. Eventually, I got away to call my parents.

They’d been waiting for me to call. At lunch they’d started trying to reach me, but the phone lines to College Station were too bogged down for them to get a free circuit to contact me through.

We spoke for just under an hour… each filling the other in on what we knew.

I saw on the news that there would be a prayer service at the campus, and I decided I would go. I needed to go. So, I filled my time on-line and watching the news until the time came to leave.

George Bush Drive was a parking lot. No one could get anywhere. I sat at one stop light for five lights. The guys in the truck beside me kept playing Chinese Fire Drill. We were all going a little crazy.

I sat there for over 20 minutes before I gave up. I detoured off George Bush, and made my way back to University Drive. As I did this, I called my parents to let them know what was going on at the campus. They had just talked to Scott (my brother), and they said he asked how I was doing. So I told them I’d call him.

I got back home, and called Scott. I think he was glad to hear from me. I was glad to hear his voice. He had Jeni, and she kept getting fussy. He said she was telling me “hello.” That made me smile.

To be so oblivious to the tragedy. To be so oblivious to the drastic changes that have occurred in this world today… in just a few hours time.

There is an innocent beauty in that.

I have full classes tomorrow. We will not let these terrorists stop us. We will continue on as always. We will triumph.

For now, though, I remain numb… perhaps a bit nauseous, too. It makes me ill thinking about this. I need to go to bed, but the chances of sleep coming any time soon are slim.

Red, White & Blue Out Game -- Sept. 22, 2001 -- In honor of those lost on 9/11

01:29 am September 14th, 2001

The were heading to celebrations: a wedding, a family reunion. They were returning from vacations. They all had plans: go see a son, to start a new job, to go to a conference. On a bright September morning, four planes on the East Coast took off routinely — then everything changed in a terrible moment and the flights veered to tragedy.
~Sharon Cohen, AP

05:01 pm September 18th, 2001

Today, for some reason, we had a lot of low-flying jets going over the campus. The first one to go over came during my Geology class. It’s an occurrence that everyone has heard dozens of times before. Nonetheless, not a single person remained still when it happened. Every student turned towards the sound… I know that my heart started beating much faster.

Fear remains… Fear that was not there before. Fear that will never completely go away, even as it lessens… This fear is followed quickly by anger… anger that our sense of peace and safety has been shaken. That our lives — everyone’s lives — have been touched, shaken, and now must been put back together again… only to find a few pieces are missing.

Nine years later… and there are still pieces missing. There is anger and sadness and fear that wasn’t there on September 10, 2001. But we go on with our lives while we never forget. Never.