Yeah, I'm wastin' time coming up with clickbait thread titles. Since I'm literally watching glue dry, I thought I'd share a little story.
First, here's a local news story that ran-
https://cardinalnews.org/2026/08/06/the-woodstock-of-bluegrass-brought-tens-of-thousands-of-yankee-hippies-to-carroll-county-the-memories-some-fuzzy-linger-a-half-century-later/
Here's a YouTube a couple twits made. It's mostly factual. All the characters names are correct.
Now, here's my connection to it all. My Ol' Man went to Stompin' '76, and wanted to take 7 year-old me, but my Mom wasn't havin' none of it. You go on, but you ain't takin' my boy to that foolishness. And that was that. Momma tried to raise me right but I grew up to be a musician anyway. Dad really thought Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs would bury the hatchet and play a few songs on that stage. Spoiler Alert; it didn't happen, though there are corroborated reports of nudity during the Earl Scruggs Revue set. So following Stompin' '76 Dad went to the Old Fiddlers Convention in nearby Galax, and that began a lifelong destination pilgrimage for me too. I missed it this year for only the third time in my life. Mom hates it, never goes. Thinks we're all nuts.
So anyway... flash forward to 1999. I'm home from Nashville. Free, skinny, and 30. Fresh outta' Divorce Court. Penniless, but still got my bass, a Crate amp, a cord, a couple stage outfits, and a junky car to carry them in. The same Hal guy who put on that calamity in Carroll County back in 1976 gets a gleam in his eye and decides to go around again. This time, in Capon Bridge, West Virginia.
Stompin' '99. The venue is an old 4H Camp. Our band gets the call to play it... of course we're in -
why would we not be?! So we get booked as one of several acts to be 'roving bands'. We're supposed to be staged at various locations around the festival grounds and have the appearance of being spontaneous jams. It sounded hilarious to us, but it paid and we got passes and lodging for all 4 days. There were a number of things we did not know, not that it would have changed the decision, we just would have made some other arrangements. Off we go... gung-ho to be part of Stompin' lore.
End of Part 1.
Wow. I had never heard of this festival.....and I'm old enough to remember the summer of 76. (I was 16)
Gall Dang hippies! Did it rain? I bet they were naked... (just kidding)
Actually I used to work with a woman who was at Woodstock, but she told me she was so stoned there that she really didn't remember anything about it!.
This event looked like lots-a-fun.
Similar stories are told of the Union Grove Fiddlers' Convention at Van Hoy Farms a little ways up I-77 from Statesville. I was there in 1973. I remember very little, but did some research a couple nights ago after I suddenly remembered being there. It was at that time that the hippies in Chapel Hill came and were mixing with the local rural folk to hear the music. I have roots in both camps since I was a hippie at Chapel Hill and my mother was born and raised, and my grandmother continued to live there, in the rural community of Hiddenite, not far from Union Grove. That memory of attending the Union Grove fiddler's convention came as I've been thinking deeply about my roots, especially since my cousin died last week and his remains went through a funeral home in Taylorsville, which is also in that area.
(Sorry for the hijack, but Greg's bluegrass Woodstock post, just a couple days after my own revisit of 1973, brought it all back up again; and it just seemed that I should add it to the thread.)
Quote from: David Houck on September 07, 2026, 07:02:23 PMSimilar stories are told of the Union Grove Fiddlers' Convention at Van Hoy Farms a little ways up I-77 from Statesville. I was there in 1973. I remember very little, but did some research a couple nights ago after I suddenly remembered being there. It was at that time that the hippies in Chapel Hill came and were mixing with the local rural folk to hear the music. I have roots in both camps since I was a hippie at Chapel Hill and my mother was born and raised, and my grandmother continued to live there, in the rural community of Hiddenite, not far from Union Grove. That memory of attending the Union Grove fiddler's convention came as I've been thinking deeply about my roots, especially since my cousin died last week and his remains went through a funeral home in Taylorsville, which is also in that area.
(Sorry for the hijack, but Greg's bluegrass Woodstock post, just a couple days after my own revisit of 1973, brought it all back up again; and it just seemed that I should add it to the thread.)
Hijacks and sidetracks welcome, as always. 😉 For those who don't know, Moderator Dave and I live in generally the same part of the world. Statesville, in Western North Carolina is the unofficial central point where my family tree put down roots. Back when they had phone books, we took up several pages in theirs. I've been somewhat successfully transplanted up here in Virginia for 50 years.
I remember Union Grove well... when I first started playing at fiddler's conventions, we hit that one a few times too back in the day. They have temporarily shut that one down to revamp the venue, but it ran for 100 years, 1924-2024... think about that. The Old Fiddlers Convention in Galax just past the 90th annual this year. The competition aspect has been around for a while. My first Galax as a contestant was the 52nd, but I drove myself there for the 50th in 1985. I'd had a driver's license for only two months but I already knew how to get that 100 miles from home.
The idea Hal Davidson had, of bringing rock concert sized audiences to a bluegrass festival (refer back to video/news story) wasn't necessarily a bad one. The
execution of his plan though, was was extraordinarily flawed in 1976, and amazingly repeated in 1999 in a number of facets. I'm trying to decide which direction to go with Part 2... there are at least 3 parts before it just turns into rambles. Admittedly it's been almost 30 years ago since Acoustic Endeavors (on the rebound from our Nashville crash-diet) took a gig at the Stompin' reboot, but I remember that crazy time quite well. I'm just trying to put it in the right context so that it's entertaining and still fair.
Stompin' '99 was staged at Buffalo Gap Campground in Capon Bridge, West Virginia. To say it's a rural area is underselling by a buck or two. There wasn't anything like the Google maps we have now back then, but we found it okay. You can look it up if you want, it's still there.
https://maps.app.goo.gl/Fyv358R6vUfqYrc5A?g_st=ac
The band by this time drove separately, but we would pool together in a couple vehicles. The days of traveling in big vans and actual external band management were over. We were independent artists now. (it sounded sexier to say from the stage than it was to be) It so happened I had driven myself this time.
As I said in Chapter 1, we were booked as one of several roving bands, which meant we weren't featured on the main stage, but were contracted to be seen playing around the campground during day so people milling around could enjoy music at the food courts, the open spaces, the shady woods, or the head shop mall. (yes, there was a full-on, buy whatever paraphernalia you want shopping center) It was a beautiful campground. I'm pretty sure it had been an old 4H camp. Who's ever been to summer camp here? Remember the cabins? Think back... got it now?
So we realized not long after checking in Tuesday evening, that our band would be sharing a cabin with three other bands. There hadn't been any discussion about this. When you read- "lodging provided for bands..." you conjure some image of a pad with a modicum of privacy. At least we had. That went over about like you think initially, but over the course of the next four days and nights, there was a fair amount of bonding between us, largely because of the level of insanity that was building outside the walls of that bunkhouse. Again, summer camp cabins. No air conditioning. Late August. A wooden floor, wood screen door at each end. Two bathrooms. Well, one... with a divider. Not that it mattered much. Cots. At least they were in the shade. They did have screening to keep the bugs out. They were completely unsecured. This became a BIG problem by Friday. I'll come back to that.
One of the things Hal really fouled up about Stompin' '76 was access, and how to secure the gate and the event property. Same thing happened in '99, albeit on a smaller scale. There was one way in that joint, and the same one road out, so nobody had a freakin' clue where or how all these people were getting in there from, but there were waaaaay more people in there than they had ticket sales to show for it, and a deja-vu moment started to happen. On one hand, there were gobs of people there for vendors and music. On the other hand, it was overwhelming the system.
One of the ploys that still draws suspicion to this day was the Stompin' currency. They printed their own money. Now stop and think about this for a minute... you go to a festival and trade cash for vouchers that you pay the vendors for stuff. They gave these to us as part of the gig, on top of our pay. We got paid in advance by the day to play, and we got so many "Stompin' Bucks" to go eat with. I had to dig around through my box of swag and lanyards to find them, but here's $7 worth of Stompin Bucks... just so you know I'm not bee-ess-in' you. (Ihad a good time digging through here... lotta' good memories) Note that they are not refundable. Nobody quite knew what to think about this system at the time, but hey, you gotta' eat. It became clearer by Sunday.
End of Part 2.
Reading your description of the cabin reminded me of the lodgings in Cool Hand Luke! ;D
Who ate the 52 eggs?
Quote from: garyhead on September 08, 2026, 01:18:13 PMReading your description of the cabin reminded me of the lodgings in Cool Hand Luke! ;D
Who ate the 52 eggs?
Dammit... now I gotta' do Part 4. You just reminded me of a critical bunkhouse scene, related to the aforementioned lack of security.
Quote from: edwardofhuncote on September 08, 2026, 02:45:35 PMQuote from: garyhead on September 08, 2026, 01:18:13 PMReading your description of the cabin reminded me of the lodgings in Cool Hand Luke! ;D
Who ate the 52 eggs?
Dammit... now I gotta' do Part 4. You just reminded me of a critical bunkhouse scene, related to the aforementioned lack of security.
So.....what we have here is "A Failure To Communicate!"
I am enjoying both this thread and the video! Never heard of the festival. Is that Freebo playing with Earl Scruggs? (about 9:08 in the video) Or just someone with the fashionable long hair/mustache of the time?
I'll be honest, I haven't watched the whole video or read through all of the posts, but I'm still having fun!
Quote from: hieronymous on September 09, 2026, 04:13:34 PMI am enjoying both this thread and the video! Never heard of the festival. Is that Freebo playing with Earl Scruggs? (about 9:08 in the video) Or just someone with the fashionable long hair/mustache of the time?
I'll be honest, I haven't watched the whole video or read through all of the posts, but I'm still having fun!
Looks like Freebo - but I think he was just playing fretless back then.
But I could well be wrong about that.
Peter
An AI search finds that Freebo was there at that event with Bonnie Raitt's band, and that in the mid 1970's, "during these roots and bluegrass festivals, members of Raitt's band (including Freebo and guitarist Will McFarlane) would regularly join Earl Scruggs, Gary Scruggs, and Randy Scruggs on stage for collaborative, all-star jam sessions".
I took the time to ask Gemini to give me the source for those people actually having a jam at the time. It took several prompts before Gemini conceded that it had inferred those specifics from named musicians reported to have been present, and reports of unnamed musicians from named acts having jammed. This is textbook AI hallucination (which AI will confess to when asked).
Glad you guys enjoyed the post. I'll ask Dad but I bet he won't remember. He thought Earl Scruggs hung the moon but didn't care much about what the Earl Scruggs Revue was doing. It was a major letdown that the anticipated Flatt & Scruggs reunion set didn't happen, as that was the music he grew up hearing that made him take up playing. As for the rest of the festival, he says it was hard to tell from the ground what all was going on beyond where you were. That I went to play at the reboot in 1999 is an inside joke between us after Mom wouldn't let him take me to Stompin' '76.
If you follow the weave of stories though, Bonnie Raitt was a big draw there. She refused the helicopter ride in for fear of flying in them, opting instead to sling her guitar over her back and ride in on a motorcycle. There's another tale that she dedicated her set to one of two babies said to have been born during the festival. Who knows if it's true. I really hope not.
It's been crazy-busy in the shop this week... I'll work on the next part later today. Acoustic Endeavors is getting settled-in with our fellow bunkies in the cabin, but storms are brewing.
Things started off pretty good at Buffalo Gap Campground once we got to work. None of us were too happy about the bunkhouse situation, but at least everyone else in there were musicians too, with the same gig we had, to be roving around the park, entertaining the attendees away from the mainstage.
Acoustic Endeavors at this time was in a 'rebuild' mode. We had left Nashville the year before and come back to Virginia to start over. Work on a new project had already begun, and we had some new personnel around the original core. Stompin' '99 was the first time out for one of them and since it really wasn't a high-pressure gig, we preferred to approach the week as a band retreat... a paid vacation where we could practice in front of people. We had scouted a couple good spots to play Tuesday evening and then back to the cabin to bring stuff in and make camp for the week. There were already a few other folks there by this time, also just realizing what we had, and dealing with that. It wasn't long before somebody suggested we jam a while as an ice-breaker. That worked in the sense that; okay... we can communicate this way. We're at least in this thing together, got a little solidarity going. We've got all the necessities of life for musicians right here... and basically everyone involved is cool. It got late. Some people quit playing and went to bed in the squeaky cots. Some people didn't... they kept playing.
Wednesday came and it was time to work. We'd all discussed who was going where, and come up with a kind of tag-team system so we could move around. It kept it interesting for us, and helped support the intended illusion that we were just some spontaneous jam session that sprung up, kinda' like the bunkhouse party the night before had been. The first day or two were pretty orderly. We'd play an hour or so somewhere, then break up and reconvene at the next chosen spot at a certain time. We would cross paths with our fellow roving bands often, exchange intel, and alter plans accordingly. It was helpful to know for instance, playing around the waterfront would get you eaten alive by bugs. The people at the food court thought one band was busking, leading to an awkward situation. There's a great shady spot on a gravel path that leads to the stage. Another in a lower field. That kind of intel. Once the mainstage got cranked up in the afternoon though, we were done being resident hillbillies and could go hangout backstage or out front. Whatever you wanted on your time. We had all-access passes. That was the gig.
At night though... (or meanwhile, back at the bunkhouse) that jam started back up about dark-o'clock. And it started attracting the attention of a few festival-goer's leaving the mainstage area. Hey... where's that music coming from down there? Pretty soon, a few got to be a lot. Then a lot got to be a crowd. The crowd got bigger. Then a couple from the crowd outside got bold and started coming inside. Remember what I said about complete lack of security? Under regular circumstances you wouldn't think you would need it in a summer camp cabin. There were just two screen doors and no locks, so they posted a couple security guys at each end on Friday night to make sure only performers were permitted in. One kinda' grubby fella' that had somehow wiggled his way in with a backpack helped himself to one of our beds, and pulls a bong out, loads up, fires it up... and passes out backward, spilling filthy bong-water in the bed. This broke up the jam real fast. The commotion got the attention of the security detail and they threw him out, still on the bong-water soaked mattress. The jam went on. What you have to know about the security team; rather than the Pagans motorcycle club, they were members of the West Virginia Militia. I guess the Pagans were busy? Maybe still feeling burned over that 6-pack Hal paid them for providing "security" in '76. Hang onto that thought, because the WVA Militia show up again in the last chapter.
By this time in the week there were way more people at Stompin' '99 than they had ticketed... not fair to say a total free-for-all, but it was getting worse by the hour. The weather was too.
End of Part 3