Rosine is in Western Kentucky. It’s basically the intersection of state highways 62 and 261 and is surrounded by small family farms and fields of corn, soybeans, sorghum and wood lots. It’s heyday ended when the Peabody Coal Company packed its bags in the 60’s and headed for richer coal fields in the west.
Two of the intersection’s corners are undeveloped. One has an abandoned service station. The Rosine General Store sits on the fourth. There may be 30 homes in a two block area near the intersection. There are also two churches, Baptist and Methodist, a post office, a volunteer fire station, and a cemetery. Next to the General Store is the Rosine Barn, a 70 year old barn that is the site of the Friday night Bluegrass Jamoboree, the heart and soul of Rosine.
We visited Rosine last year and have been eager to return ever since. Rosine claims to be the birthplace of bluegrass music. It is the home of Bill Monroe and his Bluegrass Boys. In the late 30’s, Monroe and his band played classic American folk and string band music. Over time, he incorporated sounds he liked to hear – Scotch bagpipes, Irish fiddles, Methodist and Baptist Gospel, and blues and jazz from Black farm workers. His acoustic sound of guitar, mandolin, banjo, upright bass and fiddle backed up his high, lonesome voice. At the age of 28 in 1939, he introduced his rendition of Muleskinner Blues at the Grand Ol Opry. Bluegrass has been a national favorite ever since.
The Monroe homestead, on nearby Jerusalem Ridge, is being restored and is the site of an annual Bluegrass festival that attracts 9-10,000 people for a four day feast of bluegrass music. Rustic wooden stages are set up in the woodlands next to the homestead. People sit on hay bales and the ground to listen to music that starts after breakfast and continues into the night. Small, informal string bands are formed around the grounds and play around the clock.
For the past 70 years, music has been played in the Barn every Friday night by local musicians. In the late 50’s, neighbors gathered a local home for musical jam sessions. With no television, movie theater or other local amusements, friends gathered to make their own entertainment. In time, an idea developed of moving the increasingly popular Friday night event to the area’s old abandoned feed barn. Arrangements were made with the owner and the Friday night Jamboree was born.
There are two large sliding doors on the barn. In the summer and warm fall nights, the doors are opened. People fill in the seats inside and others bring lawn chairs to sit nearby to the music under the stars. Groups take turns playing on the stage while other groups gather informally around the parking lot to jam. There’s no admission charge. A plate is passed for donations.
The unpainted barn has a big sign on it that reads “The Rosine Barn Jamboree & Home of Bluegrass Music and the Monroe Bros.” And there’s a three foot bronze medallion on the front wall commemorating Monroe as the Father of Bluegrass music.
When we were there last year, people sat on a mix of wooden church pews, old theater seats and an array of folding and plastic lawn chairs. There were at least 50 unmatched small pillows and cushions scattered around to help make seating a little more comfortable. There is new seating now. Last week, volunteers and several inmates from the county jail installed cushioned folding seats from the county courthouse that were being replaced. Everyone agreed they were nice, but complained that fewer people could be seated inside.
The work crew also insulated the barn for winter weather. Sheets of clear plastic covered the sliding doors and lower rafters.
Normally, the music begins between 6-7:00 p.m. People start to gather around the barn at 4:30. The General Store is more of a meeting hall and restaurant than a store. There are 10 large tables inside covered by plastic table cloths, none of which match or fit the tables. Some of the chairs match. Most don’t But it doesn’t matter. People don’t notice and probably don’t care. It’s not important. What is important is the opportunity to gather to visit and to play and listen to music.
We pulled into the parking lot in front of the barn around midday. We looked for a small white Ford. It would have belonged to a fellow we met on our earlier visit. Last year the car was there and the doors to the barn were open. I went in to get some information about the evening program I found him organizing some papers on a table in the rear of the barn. He introduced himself as Ramey Hensman and invited me to sit down to talk a spell. I told him we were interested in finding out about the night’s program. He reached for a clipboard and read the names of the six bands that would be performing. He said there could be more. His band, Sandy Creek, usually plays, but they would be playing in nearby Hartford at a benefit for Habitat for Humanity. He explained that, at 71 years of age, he could still play a pretty good standing base fiddle. I mentioned that standing base fiddles were rare these days. He said the standing bass fiddle was the only bass fiddle played in this neck of the woods. In fact, all of the instruments played locally were acoustic – no electric instruments are used. He went on to show me a wall of photos of different artists, who would be coming to the barn that night. I noticed Ramey was in one of the old photos as well.
He invited Sandy and me to join him next door for a hamburger as his guest. After lunch, he said we should visit Bill Monroe’s home on Jerusalem Ridge and see his grave at the town’s cemetery. Both were just a few miles down the road. Then, if we still had time, we could drive to Hartford and check out the things going on there as part of the big Habitat for Humanity event. He thought we’d enjoy Hartford. He said there’s a sign going into town stating that 2,000 happy people and a couple of soreheads live there. It was true, too, he said.
As we left the barn, he pointed out the open field across the street where we could park the RV for free. He also gave me a handful of maps and tourist brochures.
We did go to Jerusalem Ridge last year and to Hartford, but we skipped the cemetery. This year, we stopped at the cemetery and made the drive up to Jerusalem Ridge. A childhood friend of Monroe’s was there as a volunteer to take us through the house. It gave us a chance to hear more colorful stories about Rosine.
Such is the hospitality of Rosine. We met more people who were as friendly and helpful as Ramey.
The General Store has a regular Friday Night fish dinner special – fried catfish, French fries, cole slaw, and two hush puppies. People advised us to get into the barn by 5:30 in order to get good seats. So, this year we headed to the General Store for dinner at 4:45. Half the tables were filled with folks eating and visiting. There was one fellow playing a guitar and singing at a back table.
We finished dinner and got to the barn in plenty of time to get seats in the second row. By 6:00, the seats were filled and musicians gathered on the stage. We kept our eye open for Ramey, but didn’t see him. It wasn’t until later in the program that we learned he had died suddenly on the previous weekend. This Friday’s program was the first one that Ramey wasn’t there to organize.
There were apologies all night long about the disorganization and uncertainty of who was going to play. We didn’t think there was much of a problem. We did get a clue when the first group played for nearly two hours. No group played that long last year. They apparently played long enough to give other musicians time to practice together outside. When the second group arrived, they explained that not everyone knew each other, but they were happy to play for the audience and would do their best. Their performance was a tribute to their talent. It was clearly a night of outstanding improvisation.
Early in the program, the woman who took the role as organizer, mentioned how much everyone would miss Ramey. It was then that we understood the cloud we had felt all evening. I had mentioned Ramey to several people earlier, but no one mentioned his recent unexpected death.
The most moving experience came with the last group, Jerusalem Ridge. I don’t think the group had planned to play that night. My guess is that phone calls were made and they agreed to come at the last minute. The group has Ramey’s daughter-in-law and two grandchildren in it. Their appearance became even more dramatic when we learned after the program that Ramey died on the day of his son’s funeral following his suicide. This was the first time the family had made a public appearance since all this happened.
Last year, the music went on until nearly 1:00 a.m. This year, the program ended at 10:00 p.m. Everyone seemed exhausted and relieved to be going home. We left knowing that we had witnessed a rare community event.
