About a dozen years ago we would go to the Acworth Opry one night a month held in a old barn on Logan's Farm. It was always interesting and many bluegrass artists gathered. They jammed all around on the outside of the barn and inside the barn was a stage with bluegrass musicians groups play. They kept to a prearranged schedule.
One group that played there often consisted of a daughter, in her 20s or early 30s, her pa, wo was very unpretentious, and the little brother, probably a late teenager, who wasn't little at all. We called him "Joe". We called him Joe because he looked a lot like Joe, our neighbors' son.
Joe did not actually sing or play. He just stood there holding his guitar and gazed at the audience. I guess he was just filling a visual need.
Very soon I may know exactly how Joe felt back then. I am to be on a panel at the Marietta Museum of History discussing public housing in the 1940s.
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