A Farmboy until he dies

(Note: I have to admit I only became familiar with J.D. Shelburne in the last year or so. A friend told me about his music so I looked him up on the Internet, listened and immediately identified with a guy who grew up the next county over from me. Then, another good friend told me about Shelburne's dad being a former basketball player and coach, one who I had seen play the game when I was a kid. I also realized I knew some of Shelburne's family through my work as a sports writer. I contacted J.D. and he graciously consented to a one-on-one interview. I found one of the nicest young men I have had the privilege of meeting and a guy who shared my love of farm life, basketball and the Kentucky Wildcats. Here is that interview, which appeared as a column in the July 23 edition of The Anderson News.)

I had driven through the backroads to meet up with J.D. Shelburne.

He'd done the same to catch up with a writer he knew little about.

But that wasn't really that unusual. I'm a sports writer who's just as comfortable talking about cattle as baseball. Shelburne could fill the nets from 3-point land at Spencer County High School but is now working his way up the ladder in Nashville.

We're talking Music City. And the base rung of that ladder has to be his biggest single to date, “Farmboy” which tells the story of how he grew up. That signature line of his biggest hit says all you need to know:  I'm a farmboy 'til the day that I die.

I had meandered down Highway 44 through Taylorsville, where the video for his hit was filmed on the family farm. He'd taken time out between shows to meet in the parking lot at Bullitt East High School, where Shelburne's father, David, had at one time coached basketball.

J.D. Shelburne might be chasing his dream picking a guitar but it's easy to see why opposing coaches, including Anderson County's Glen Drury, worried about the 6-foot-5-inch shooting guard's touch from 3-point land from 1998-2001.

J.D. Shelburne performs at Louisville Slugger Field.

“We made plenty of trips to Anderson County,” Shelburne chuckles. “Man, their fans were rough!

“Some of my greatest memories are growing up and playing sports around the Eighth Region. It was great growing up in a small town. Everybody knew me and everybody knew my dad.”

Opposing coaches knew him too. According to the KHSAA website, Shelburne – he's listed as John D. – hit better than two 3-pointers a game. He was one of the state's top shooters and at one point, sank 33 straight free throws.

He looks like he could still make some, ahem, string music.

“I will lace up the old basketball shoes and play at the Brentwood (Tenn.) YMCA from time to time,” Shelburne says. “It's a great way to stay in shape these days.”

And it's not surprising that a guy who grew up loving the Cincinnati Reds of Chris Sabo and Barry Larkin always remembers the day he and his younger brother, Tommy, went deep. “I think we were playing Shelby County and both of us hit home runs in the same game. That was the coolest thing ever.”

To music and basketball lovers, though, Shelburne's ascent rivals that feat on the coolness scale.

It all started in the summer of 2002, between Shelburne's freshman and sophomore years at the University of Kentucky.

“My grandmother passed away. She went to sleep one night and never woke up. It was kind of a shock for our family,” he says. “It really took its toll on the family. We would go to her house that summer and box up stuff and the antiques.

“In the back of a closet, I found an acoustic guitar that I never knew was there. … I just thought it would be something fun to do. I was retiring from sports and moving on to the next phase in my life.

“When I went back to Lexington for the fall semester in '02, I took the guitar with me. Over the course of the next six months, I would get on Google and just try to start figuring out where to put my fingers on the guitar. The case had a chord book in it that told where to put my fingers and I would just play to what was playing on the radio.”

Eventually, he literally sang for his supper.

J.D. Shelburne and bassist Hank Rose at Louisville Slugger Field.

“I got to where I was halfway decent and would go down the street to this place where I would sing for a chicken sandwich,” he laughs.

He started playing coffee shops, churches and retirement parties. He even played for tips near Freddy Farm Bureau at the Kentucky State Fair one year.

“I made about three bucks in two hours,” Shelburne laughs.

It was all part of the dream that had moved from Riverfront Stadium to the Grand Ole Opry.

“Anything I could do to get out and be seen. Anything with a P.A., I would go play it,” he says with a laugh. “I have played in nursing homes where every patient was asleep. I have literally done it all. We have done it the old-fashioned way. I tell people we have done it Loretta Lynn-style.”

Lynn famously visited radio stations trying to get them to play “Honky Tonk Girl” before her career took off. Shelburne plays anytime, anywhere he can, but has the modern twist of Twitter and Facebook

And that is where his love of Kentucky basketball and country music came together.

It all came together on March 30 when the Wildcats earned a berth in the Final Four at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas. Freshman reserve Marcus Lee was the surprise scoring 10 points and grabbing eight rebounds.

“I was watching the game and we beat Michigan to go to the Final Four. Lee went crazy, and as the game ended, I was sitting in the recliner and my heart was pounding. I said, 'I am gonna have to write a song about this.'”

He decided on re-wording the Alabama hit, “If You're Gonna Play in Texas, You've Gotta Have a Fiddle in the Band.”

In 10 minutes, Shelburne had come up with, “If You're Gonna Play in Texas, You've Gotta have Lee in the Game.” He loaded on his Facebook page, thinking little about it.

“I did it as a joke, hoping to get some tickets to the game,” he chuckles. “My dad called me and said that was a good song on Facebook and I had some comments on it. About three hours later, I had about 5,000 views and 3,000 shares. The next day, it was like 200,000 likes. It went viral.”

At last count, over the quickly-made “joke” has turned in serious numbers to the tune of over 450,000 views in various ways.

Ironically, Shelburne says he has been able to play more events around the University of Louisville – “Tom Jurich is a fan,” he says of the Cardinals' athletic director – than his alma mater.

And, it was in the former home of Cardinal football that Shelburne saw another of his dreams come true last year. His gigs at the Kentucky State Fair had evolved from that day he stood near Freddy Farm Bureau to playing one of the country music tents. Last spring, the call came to open for fellow Kentuckians Montgomery Gentry at Cardinal Stadium during the fair.

The place was packed and rocking.

J.D. Shelburne, right, hams it up with me.

“I remember one year walking back to my car and seeing (Christian group) Mercy Me playing and I said, 'I want to play here some day. Sure enough, six years later, I was doing it.”

The dream is still big, but Shelburne is still climbing. By day, he works as a Workman's Compensation adjuster. By night and on weekends, he's traveling to play.

Even though he has opened for 44 national acts, Shelburne longs to play the Opry – another Kentuckian, singer Steve Wariner, has written a letter of recommendation for him – and open for some other big names, including the Oak Ridge Boys, a favorite of Shelburne's parents and the writer he spent part of a Saturday afternoon in a small town talking about sports and being farm boys.

“You make so many friends along the way playing sports, from grade school to high school, that I still keep in contact with,” Shelburne says. “I learned so much about being humble, learning to play with a positive mind frame, never giving up on dreams and always give 110 percent effort. Coach (Mike) Appelman always taught us to leave it all out on the floor and I use that same mind frame today when I perform shows. I leave it all on the stage at the end of the night.

“I worked on a farm all my life. We raised tobacco. I put in hay. A lot of people don't realize I am a farm boy. I have my hair slicked back, wear tight blue jeans and cowboy boots, but I was born and raised on the farm. I was driving a truck on the back road when I was eight years old.”

I'm a farmboy until the day that I die.

Original song, original sound, age old dream

(Note: Every now and then, I run into someone who just amazes me for various reasons.  I recently had the privilege of interviewing Rayna Warford and her sister, Ramsey Edington. They have dreams of making it in the music business but know the odds are stacked against them.  But they are still having loads of fun and love every minute of their journey. I am reposting the story, which appeared in the July 16 edition of The Anderson News.)

 The journey started with only a tiny bit of fanfare in Anderson County. If the dream comes true, it will make it all the way to Nashville.

And beyond.

“My first performance was at Western School,” Rayna Warford says with a big smile. “I was five years old and it was a talent contest. I was the youngest contestant there, but I won.”

Twenty-two years and a slew of gigs later, Rayna is still singing, but now she’s usually joined on stage by her younger sister, Ramsey Edington, putting together a unique neo-traditional country sound that is becoming more well-known around central Kentucky.

But the ambition is much bigger than the Bluegrass Region.

“We are country with a bluegrass influence,” Rayna says with a sparkle in her eye.

When asked to give just a taste of any current act that might have a similar sound, Rayna offers The Secret Sisters as an example, but quickly adds, “I say we have the R and R sound.”

That sound is tight family harmony with powerful voices, backed by their own acoustic accompaniment. Ramsey started teaching herself the mandolin at age 16 and is now learning the ukelele. Rayna started learning the piano when she was 8, but switched to the guitar after getting one as a Christmas gift in 2006.

“We had a gig scheduled for February and I said I was going to play that guitar on stage,” Rayna laughs.

That drive fuels a dream that is not likely to ever die.

The Anderson County sisters long for that break elusive break that could take them from playing at local festivals, churches and small-town country shows like the Bardstown Opry and the Kentucky Jamboree to the big time in Nashville.

Along the way, R and R have been asked to sing the national anthem at various events around central Kentucky, including a date at a Lexington Legends’ minor league baseball game.

They’ve also recorded two CDs with another in the works.

It’s all part of the journey that actually began before Rayna Edington won that talent show at Western School.

“Our mom made us listen to all kinds of music,” Ramsey says with a laugh. “She introduced us to all kinds of music.”

That has been apparent even as the sisters have chased their dreams. Rayna saw that during a six-month stint as a backup singer at the now-closed Junction Jamboree in Lebanon Junction several years ago.

Ramsey, who now works as a pharmacy technician at the Lawrenceburg Kroger, joined the Lebanon Junction show once, but found the trip very difficult with her work schedule.

“That was just such a long drive each week,” says Rayna, whose day job is with the Kentucky Department of Agriculture in Frankfort.

“When we sang at Lebanon Junction, there were few songs I didn’t know. We listened to so much Michael Bolton growing up. Then I went through that stage where everything was Britney Spears,” Rayna says. “Now we sing everything from the Dixie Chicks to Loretta Lynn’s ‘Blue Kentucky Girl.’”

The pair has even written a song, simply titled “Our Original Song,” about that influence. Their mom, Regina Edington, even helped with the composition.

One verse includes the lines, “Our mom would make us listen to Loretta and ZZ Top. She’d pull out those old 45s but we’d rather listen to pop. She’d tell us both the story of how music’s supposed to be. Mom was right all along about those old songs and what’s best for you and me.”

But that love of music is even deeper. Not only did Regina Edington constantly play music as her daughters were growing up, but the influence of their chorus teacher at Anderson County High School, Sue Lou Smith, cannot be understated.

“She taught us so much and she comes to everything,” Ramsey says.

That includes gigs as far away as Lebanon Junction to the rare opportunities R and R have to sing in their hometown.

Friday, the sisters will play at Rising Sons Winery for an that is open to the anyone 21 and older. “Seating will be limited so it is suggested people bring lawn chairs,” Rayna said.

Sunday, R and R will be presenting some of their gospel music during the morning worship service at First Christian Church.

They will head back to Rising Sons on Aug. 8 during the 127 Yard Sale for another public event.
“We love to perform here in Lawrenceburg. This IS our hometown,” says Rayna, who acts as the duet’s manager.

In addition to the traditional small-town country venues, R and R nave played at the Fort Harrod Beef Festival, the Daniel Boone Festival in Winchester and at the Franklin County Fair.

“We love to play the festival setting,” Rayna says. “You can get your music to a lot of people there.”
And, Rayna says, the duo never turns down a reasonable invitation to sing. “Personally, I think it is always worth it,” Rayna says. “You never know who is going to be there.”

It’s just the price of the dream.

And that dream might get a little closer to reality on August 30. Last week, R and R accepted an offer to play at Loretta Lynn’s Hurricane Mills Ranch just outside Nashville. “We are going to be performing with our friend, Roger Riggs, who is a Conway Twitty impersonator, and our friend Allen Hilbert, who is a George Jones impersonator.

“The best part is that Loretta is doing a concert at the ranch that night, so this is an incredible honor.”
Still, Rayna and Ramsey know that only a handful of the big dreamers ever see them come true.

“If it doesn’t happen, I don’t think we would be disappointed,” Rayna says. “We are doing what we love to do.”

And that love makes the dream grow bigger before Rayna Warford’s and Ramsey Edington’s eyes. Rayna knew that when she and her husband, Adam, took a trip to Nashville in April.

“We went to the Ryman,” Rayna said of the auditorium that long housed the Grand Ole Opry. “When we walked in, I said, ‘Wow!’ I literally burst into tears.

“We did the backstage tour and I got up on the stage to stand in that circle. I might never stand there again, but I will cherish that moment forever.


Our Original Song
By Rayna Warford, Ramsey Edigton and Regina Edington

They say you can’t go nowhere

In the music world today

If you don’t write, practice every night

And play gigs for little pay…

Sometimes it sure ain’t easy

‘Cause money don’t go far—

You miss your home, you’re all alone

And your best friend’s a guitar

So we’ve come up with some lyrics

And they might not be the best

Stayed up all night, had a real big fight

But then we got some rest

We tried to be creative

Feel free to sing along—

Here we are, we’re R&R

And this-is-our original song

Our mom would make us listen

To Loretta and ZZ Top

She’d pull out those old 45’s

But we’d rather listen to pop

She’d tell us both the story

Of how music’s supposed to be

Mom was right all along about those old songs

And what’s best for you and me

Chorus:

It might not take us to the Opry

Or be a YouTube hit

Buy us fancy clothes or shiny cars

But we don’t give a lick

We’ve tried so hard to please you

By writing our own tune

We’re radio bound—hope you like our sound

Because you’re gonna hear us soon!

(Chorus)

We tried to be creative

And we hope you sang along

‘Cause here we are, we’re R&R

And this-is-our original song!

Singing for His blessings, not searching for His will

As I woke up this Fourth of July morning, the sun was shining brightly on my new Kentucky home. There's not a cloud in the sky, the air is crisp and rather than the normal muggy days of summer, the temperature seems more like early fall.

I could not help but think of the way I have been personally blessed over the last few months: My wife and I were able to move to a new house – I can't help but love the creek that runs through our back yard! – in what we believe is a beautiful neighborhood. She has been granted a professional opportunity that she has been pursuing several years, as well.

My youngest daughter received the 110 Percent Award for her classwork in her old school, Shelby East, and is excited about a new band opportunity she will be having at her new one, Anderson County.

I have also been inspired in other ways, not the least of which was someone sharing that knowing my struggle with hearing loss and the wonder of cochlear implants has been a blessing to them. That one really was a bit of a surprise.

There have been so many blessings that serve to remind me how wonderful it is to live in the United States of America. I really wonder if most, if any, of the things I have just listed would be possible anywhere else on the earth.

At the same time, though, I am troubled by the direction of our country.

And troubled is really an understatement.

Last night, I had the privilege to attend a Minor League Baseball game at Louisville Slugger Field. The hometown Bats were taking on the Indianapolis Indians in another installment of the rivalry they have had for over 30 years. It kind of mirrors the one their parent clubs, the Cincinnati Reds and Pittsburgh Pirates had when I was growing up in the 1970s and has resurfaced in the last few seasons.

The game got out of hand and the Indians went on to an easy victory. And speaking of “out of hand” I was quite upset with myself as I did not haul in a foul ball I should have caught.

But as I was waiting for the game to mercifully end and the fireworks to begin, I started thinking about some of the ironies of the July 4 holiday tradition.

In the middle of the seventh inning, in what has become a diamond tradition since Sept. 11, 2001, the public address announcer asked for all to rise during the singing of “God Bless America.”

To say the sell-out crowd sang with gusto is major understatement.

But a review of recent news says our country's actions are even louder and more forceful than anything Kate Smith could have ever sung.

Consider the Supreme Court's ruling on employer-funded medical insurance. It's probably not possible to not know about this one. The craft store Hobby Lobby and another corporation argued that the mandate to provide birth control with prescription drugs that have been linked to causing abortions violated their deeply-held Christian values. The corporation did not challenge providing the 16 actual contraceptives as mandated by the Affordable Care Act.

While the 5-4 court decision was a victory, I am troubled that we even got to the point in our country when someone could be violating a law – as the executives of the corporations named in the case would be doing – by holding fast to their faith.

For that matter, how did we get to a point where abortion – taking the life of a baby, no matter how you look at it – is considered a contraceptive and a choice in reproductive health. Just because the Supreme Court ruled that abortion should be legal in 1973 doesn't make it right or moral.

Of course there are many saying the ruling in favor of Hobby Lobby limits a woman's choice. Wrong.

All the ruling says is that the closely-held corporation does not have to provide the government-mandated benefits if they violate the owner's religious beliefs.

It does not say that someone cannot have an abortion. It's just not incumbent on the employer to pay for it. It's called personal responsibility.

The next day, a judge struck down a judge struck down Kentucky's ban on gay marriage. It's not that we didn't see this coming. I have believed for many years the pro-gay marriage forces would eventually win in the courts.

What is troubling is that we have gotten away from biblical values, which clearly teach that such a lifestyle is sin. Of course, the Bible also says that lying, drunkenness and divorce, which I have gone through, are also sins.

I believe that Jesus' admonition to a woman who had been married five times is pertinent when he said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

In other words, loving and respecting a person does not equal condoning behavior.

But back to baseball and the Fourth of July.

We sing God Bless America loudly, but do we really mean it? Does America ask for God's blessings without submitting to his will?

I think the answer is obvious. And I wonder how much longer He will continue to show His favor on our country.

Loving the right team most of all

I am writing this during the 2014 NCAA basketball tournament. As I sit at my desk, I am wearing some fan gear telling the world about my allegiance to the University of Kentucky Wildcats. It's in my blood.

By the time I was eight years old, I knew that Cawood Ledford, the voice of the Wildcats, was the greatest play-by-play announcer of all time. I soon learned the only way to watch one of those rare games on TV was to turn the sound down and let Cawood call it.

I learned that fandom from my mother and my aunt, both of whom loved the Wildcats and made sure they could listen to or watch every game that was on the air.

Before television started making out the schedules to ensure those in the Eastern and Central time zones would see games at somewhat reasonable hours, I actually set my alarm to get up in time to watch the Wildcats play the championship game of the Great Alaska Shootout at 2 a.m.

Repeat, 2 a.m.

Crazy. I know.

A few hours after I write this, my beloved Wildcats will be taking on, for fans at least, the most bitter rival of them all, the Louisville Cardinals, for the right to advance in the tournament.

As much as I love the Wildcats, my wife, who I love very deeply, has an affection for the Cardinals. Today, as we were out and about tending to some errands accompanying an impending move, she proudly wore a Louisville wind shirt while I sported some Kentucky attire.

We had a few funny looks. Some people jokingly asked questions or made comments.

It was all in fun, but there are some who take it very seriously. Too seriously.

I have read accounts of people forking over more than a thousand dollars for a seat close to the floor in Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis. Kentucky coach John Calipari noted that those whose team loses will grieve until the next time the teams play and the winners will celebrate.

He's right.

And it is all over a basketball game. A big game, no doubt, but still a game.

I have made my living writing about sports full time for 12 years. Before that, I put in about 17 years typing away as a paid hobby. Yet, over that time, I have become much more keenly aware of the extremes some fans go to.

And I have wondered, “What would the world be like if we cared as much about the work of Jesus Christ as we do about what the Wildcats, Cardinals or any other team do on or off the playing field?”

I have seen people who somehow can't find the time to worship drive hundreds of miles to see a game. What about the person who is so tired and can't take sitting at church somehow find the energy to not only make it to the game but actively cheer their team and pointedly berate the officials at the game.

What if we were as enthused to worship as we are to cheer our favorite team?

As I saw so many people wearing Kentucky or Louisville gear – and surprisingly a few Michigan fans in central Kentucky – I could not help but think of Paul's words in Galatians 3:26-27, “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ.”

What if we were as concerned about those who are lost without Jesus Christ as we are about where a great high school athlete decides to attend college or what pro team will draft the college star?

I think we all know the answer.

There's really nothing wrong with cheering a team on. When we have diversions from the pressures of every day life, it can be good. If there were little interest in sports, I would not have a job at which I have achieved some success.

Even the apostle Paul refers to the Christian life as a race (Hebrews 12, I Cor. 9) and uses the analogy of a boxer (I Cor. 9). These are among many instances of Paul using athletic metaphors in the New Testament.

If he were writing today, he could perhaps find a spiritual truth in the quest for The Final Four. Who knows?

It's not the sport that is the problem. Nor is there a problem with a healthy fandom that recognizes we are watching games. But when those games become our obsession – and for some they are no doubt more important than their relationship with the Lord – they have become a god.

Sports should be fun, and, in their right place, they are. Someday, however, the trophies will tarnish and the banners will fall.

One's relationship with God is eternal. That should be our number one focus.

Thankful for two who crossed my path this year

As I type this out on Thanksgiving Day, 2013, there are so many things in life for which I am thankful.

Like most, I am thankful for my family, for my health and for the many material blessings I have. The older I get, the more I reflect on those simple things every day I live.

This year, a couple of people gave me some unexpected blessings that have truly changed my outlook on life. I am not sure the persons even realized it when they made me sit back, think, and then act on what they said.

I have no idea if Clay Perkins and Duane Allen have ever crossed paths, but I am eternally grateful they intersected with my journey through life in 2013.

Clay Perkins is the president of my alma mater, Mid-Atlantic Christian University. When I graduated over 30 years ago, it was known as Roanoke Bible College and, admittedly, I have been out of the loop when it comes to the school's affairs over that time.

Mr. Perkins and I talked at length this summer when we were both attending the North American Christian Convention in Louisville. I had met him before and had somewhat stayed in contact through Facebook, but to say that we know each other well would be a stretch.

What he did know about me was that I had been in the located ministry for about 20 years and that I sometimes beat myself up for not being in the pulpit every Sunday now. He encouraged me to remember God's grace.

I try to do that every day, but it is easier said than done.

At the college's alumni reception that week, I took some photos and sent them to Mr. Perkins, along with one my wife snapped of Clay and me together. A few days later, that same photo turned up on Facebook with the simple caption, “One of our graduates who is serving as a sports writer.”

I felt like someone turned a light on.

For years, I had tried to make sure my writings had reflected my faith. When someone had given a quote with what I considered inappropriate language, I had always omitted that or simply summarized the thought without a quote. I tried to refrain from the personally destructive comments that seem to sell so well in the media today.

But “serving as a sports writer?” That opened my eyes that we can really make a difference in nearly any profession.

Not long after Mr. Perkins wrote that, I talked about some moral issues in published columns. A reader e-mailed me commenting on the “boldness” I had used in those writings.

Then, in early September, fear of legal action by the ACLU prompted a decision by the Anderson County Board of Education that resulted in the football coach not publicly praying with his team.

I was not happy with the decision, but was glad I was in a position to give Christians a voice in the local media.

Yes, it was service. Thank you, Mr. Perkins, for reminding me.

In August, I had the privilege to interview Duane Allen. If you listen to country or gospel music, you know Duane. He's been the lead singer of The Oak Ridge Boys since 1966. The group is one of the most beloved in American music history with hits like “Elvira” and “American Made.”

I had stumbled across a local connection to Duane Allen's mega-successful career, so I took a chance and requested an interview.

Mr. Allen graciously consented and personally made sure everything was set up to accommodate my hearing impairment, including a face-to-face interview instead of over the phone or via e-mail.

He suggested we meet a few hours before the Oaks took the stage for what has been an annual show at the Kentucky State Fair for nearly 40 years.

He even set it up for my wife to sit in on the interview. It was a lesson in giving of one's self.

We were expecting 15 minutes. He gave us 45.

And Duane Allen gave us more than his time. When he recounted the incredible story of how he ended up with The Oaks, he punctuated it saying, “I have always had faith.  This was just another example of how God works in my life and directing every step I take. I never had any doubts about God being in my life. It is just another example.”

When I asked about going from gospel music to country, he noted, "Everything we do is dedicated to God. I don't pick out certain things and dedicate them to God.  I dedicate every country song, Every song that has crossed over to rock-and-roll. Thank you Elvira. It helped me pay bills and make people happy.”

And later in the interview, Duane told me, “I didn't find God in country music. I just found He was already there. I want him in my life. I don't put conditions on where he goes.”

It sounds so simple and basic, yet it is something many of us, including me, struggle with on a daily basis. If you are a Christian, you are a Christian 24-7, no matter where you are. We can't just compartmentalize our relationship with God. Whether we are preachers, academicians, entertainers, factory works, writers or anything else, God is there.

Our relationship should be, too.

It is something I have known in my head for many years. I believe I finally understood it in my heart this summer.

And for that, I am thankful for crossing paths with Clay Perkins and Duane Allen.

Real-life questions about praying at the games

(This is my column in the Sept. 11 edition of The Anderson News. Quick background: the local football coaching staff was advised they could no longer be around during organized prayers following games or practices, even though they did not lead in them. The community of Lawrenceburg, Ky. was furious.   Here is my take on it.)

I have to make this column fit into about 650 words.

I could probably use 6,500. Or more.

In my 28-plus years of getting paid to write, I don't think I have ever seen a local display of pure emotion, of such anger, such frustration as I have seen around Lawrenceburg since the news broke last Wednesday that the Anderson County High School football coach Mark Peach and his coaching staff could no longer pray with the Bearcat team.

This is not simply an on-field disappointment. Those hurt for a few hours, maybe even a few days, but eventually all is fine and you just try to get better.

But to those who hold their religious faith close to their heart and wear it on their sleeve, this is about real life. It's more than stopping an opponent on fourth-and-1 inside the 10-yard-line and the outrage that many have expressed is understandable.

I believe the outrage is warranted. To whom it should be directed, however, is not clear.

I also know there are some who disagree, who feel the anger and frustration are misguided and that the decision to keep the coaching staff out of the team prayers was a good one.

Some thoughts...

First, Anderson County school superintendent Sheila Mitchell was caught in a no-win situation in this matter. She, like many other school districts in Kentucky, have received threats of litigation from the American Civil Liberties Union over the practice of the Gideons distributing Bibles in schools. The next obvious step would deal with prayers, even if they are student-led, when school personnel are present in official capacities.

Since Peach learned he would have to step away from his team's prayers or simply offer a moment of silence, there are many that are ready to fight the ACLU and stand up for what they believe to be their First Amendment rights. To do so would probably be a politically popular move.

However, a fight invites more litigation, which means thousands, maybe even millions of dollars in legal fees. Mitchell's decision, while not popular, was undoubtedly made with this in mind.

Secondly, the First Amendment says that government shall not establish religion, nor prohibit the free exercise thereof. I have been to every game Mark Peach has coached at Anderson County. While there is little doubt about his Christian world view, I have never seen him push his faith on anyone. For that matter, I have never seen him offer a prayer.

How a generic prayer is establishing religion is beyond me. The coaches are not coming around on Sunday and rounding up kids to go to church with them. They are not saying a kid must attend church to play linebacker. Are the coaches' rights being violated? I don't have the answer, but it is worth looking into.

Thirdly, kids have not been denied the right to pray. If a kid wants to pray and the desire was not the idea of a teacher, the kid can pray. Even the ACLU agrees on that.

Fourth, to make an issue of the way one prays is just sad. No other words are necessary.

Finally, the ACLU and similar groups like to use “tolerance” as a buzz word. Leslie Sparrow, of Anderson County, dropped me a note after Friday's game, asking the questions many are asking.

“Since when did tolerance become a one way street?” she wrote. “My kids have to be 'tolerant' of the kids they sit next to in class who refuse to stand for the flag because that is their 'right.' … When teachers speak of 'being made of stardust', my kids must be 'tolerant' and sit quietly. Oh, the list could continue. Where are my kids' rights? Who is 'tolerant' of their beliefs and allows them to express it?”

It's a question many want to ask when it seems like those who preach “tolerance” define that as simply agreeing with their positions.

Five-part harmony: Allen loves hoops, follows the Big Blue

(During my chat with Duane Allen, of the Oak Ridge Boys, we briefly talked about his passion for basketball. This also appeared in the Aug. 28 edition of The Anderson News.) 

Had Duane Allen not become a mega-success with The Oak Ridge Boys, chances are he would have become a highly-successful basketball coach at some level.

At least, that is how he had it planned.

“I get right into the very intracacies of coaching,” Allen said last week before taking the stage at the Kentucky State Fair. “I had dreamed when I was in school that I would be doing this until I got tired of it. I never dreamed it would last as long as it has.

Duane Allen, left, and William Lee Golden at the Ky. State Fair.

“I wanted to get an education degree so I could teach. I dreamed I would probably wind up in some school teaching music and coaching basketball. I love the game that much.”

Allen says as a high schooler in Texas, he was a 3-point shooter before there was a 3-point line. “It didn't mean any more than a layup then,” Allen chuckled.

The Kentucky Wildcats became one of his favorite basketball teams, a passion that was cemented over the years. “I have always loved Big Blue basketball,” Allen says. “My wife is from Kentucky (Bowling Green), my son-in-law is from Lexington. One of my children went to Kentucky for two years, one went for a year.”

Both eventually transferred to be closer to their Nashville home.

Allen's son, Dee, is a Nashville musician. Daughter Jamie is married to Paul Martin, who spent some time with the popular central Kentucky group, Exile, and now plays in country singer Marty Stuart's band.

For Duane Allen, the Big Blue roots run deep.

“My daughter was (former UK athletic director) C.M. Newton's secretary and worked in Rick Pitino's office when he was with the Big Blue,” Allen says, “so I went to a lot of Big Blue basketball games. I really like John Calipari. I met him when he was in Memphis.”

Allen, though, is a fan of many teams. He, and several other members of the Oak Ridge Boys, support Vanderbilt, the major college team in their adopted hometown.

The preferences of someone who has made a living singing four-part harmony should not come as a surprise. He loves five-part harmony on the hardwood.

“I love great basketball when it is taught as the game of life,” Allen says. “Of course you have to put the ball in the hoop, but you also teach the game of life like John Wooden taught (at UCLA). I am a fan of team basketball. Traditional basketball. I am not much of a fan of attitude players. They come and go and they come at every school. I am not putting my finger on one or another or talking about this one.”

Duane and Joe Bonall fist-bump during the singing of "Reach out and Touch a Hand."

Teams Allen follows sounds like the lineup of the most powerful names in college hoops history. Not only does he follow Kentucky, he mentioned North Carolina as another favorite along with a guy Cat fans love to despise.

“Indiana, when Bobby Knight was there,” Allen smiles. “I loved Bobby Knight, I don't care if he did throw a chair. I liked him because he built strong character in his players. I liked Arizona when Lute (Olsen) was out there. He had strong, strong teams and good people.

“I like Gonzaga right now. They have great basketball and teach them about the game of life and turn out good men.

“I like schools that turn out quality people with character. Basketball is not a game of how hot-shot you are. It is a game of skill. It is not how heavy you can knock somebody to the floor to shoot a layup.”

When done right, it's simply five-part harmony.