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We sleep late, for us, on Sunday morning, and dawn has broken as we wake up. The sky is clear,

and the surrounding mountains show through mist and rising fog. As the sun breaks over the mountain we can see it will be sunny and warm for this final day of Merlefest. Because we have slept late, we haven’t as much time to laze around as usual, but we enjoy coffee and some breakfast before dressing, putting together a day pack, and heading down the hill. Before we are even started, Irene has removed two layers of clothing. It promises to be a very warm day.

People wander about the campus in a Sunday morning laze. The grounds are wet and muddy. Empty camp chairs and tarps await their owners’ return for the day’s music. We walk to our seats in the reserved area of the Watson Theatre and find three people we have never seen seated next to our seats. People may sit wherever they wish before 5:00 PM unless the seat owners arrive and claim their seats. This system seems to work fine, affording many more people access to good seating during the day, while assuring seat owners of their positions.

A group of men surround Doc Watson on the stage. This annual conversation leavened with song is called “My Friend Merle,” a tribute to Merle Watson. On stage are a group of people who have surrounded Doc Watson for years and who have performed with Merle and Doc over the years. Big name performers like Sam Bush and Doc Watson sit with David Holt, who has served as interpreter and interlocutor for Doc Watson. T. Michael Coleman is a bass player who plays a supporting role. Mitch Greenhill has served as both Merle’s and Doc’s booking manager as well as producer of many of their recordings. For an hour these men, as well as others associated with Doc and Merle’s careers reminisce and play together. They seem to submerge their own personal egos in the service of showcasing Doc and remembering Merle. At the same time, Doc makes sure that each gets to lead a song or play several solos. Their reminiscence becomes a jam as well as a memory.

The morning lazily drifts into early afternoon as the sun rises and folks drift in to sit and listen. A series of traditional bluegrass bands follow one upon the other. As befits a Sunday morning, each group plays and sings several gospel songs in different styles and kinds of harmony. Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver seem much like The Del McCoury Band, but for me are more likable and effective. They sing several shaped note hymns, a capella numbers in close harmony that are chillingly beautiful. The Rowan Brothers, a California group, sing traditional bluegrass leavened with Mexican and Reggae sounds and rhythms. Mountain Heart serves up traditional bluegrass sounds and songs.

At 2:15 the tone changes and the audience becomes younger and more raucous as the Laura Love Band takes the stage. Laura Love is a chunky, dark skinned young woman who sounds blacker than she looks. Her band has a vivacious woman fiddler; one is tempted to call her a violinist as her sound and look are both more classical than we have seen, and a woman playing rhythm guitar as well as a drummer and a lead guitarist. Her sound and style are more reminiscent of rock than bluegrass. Her sensibility is black and political. She sings a funny song celebrating her “bootay” which is considerable, as well as a political song lambasting George Bush and the war. The song is greeted with some, but certainly not universal enthusiasm. My first reaction is that politics and protest are inappropriate in this setting. On reflection, I realize there has been a subtext of deeply conservative political ideology running through the entire proceedings. Laura Love stands in marked contrast to this trend. Her performance is animated and lively. We would not be tempted to buy one of her CDs as a little goes a long way, but generally she adds spunk and enthusiasm to today’s program.

Love is followed by Hot Rize, a reconstituted group whose name comes from a jingle for Martha White Flour, their oneti

me sponsor and one of the major sponsors of the festival. I suddenly realize that Garrison Keilor’s Powdermilk Biscuit adds on A Prairie Home Companion must have been inspired by Martha White. Hot Rize has not existed as a group since 1991, but they hold annual reunions at Merlefest. Members of the band include Tim O’Brien on mandolin and vocals, a talented songwriter and performer, as well as Pete Warnick, known as Dr. Banjo for his jam camps at Merlefest as well as his work as a performer and teacher. They present a solid program of traditional bluegrass along with lots of inside jokes that long-time Merlefest fans appreciated, but which went right over our heads.

It’s nearly 5:00 PM as Emmy Lou Harris, the last performer of the festival, takes the stage to huge applause. Emmy Lou, a major country and western star, appeared quietly with at least two other groups yesterday. Today she is in the spotlight, and she shines. She is a strikingly attractive woman who comes on stage wearing a tight dress

with a plunging neckline and cowboy boots. Her glistening gray hair cascades to her shoulders. I wonder how much the recent trend to wearing gray hair rather than coloring it is owed Emmy Lou. Sam Bush has joined her band on mandolin for this performance. Her performance features her typically sad love, rejection, and death songs. Do such lugubrious sounds set the right tone for the final major performance of this marvelous weekend? The audience doesn’t seem to share my reservations and Emmy Lou’s segment is a great success. She finishes to rousing cheers and plays an encore.

Doc Watson takes the stage with Bill Mathis, who sings “Tribute to Merle” one more time, with Emmy Lou, Sam Bush, and other members of her band singing backup for the song. Doc seems tired and ready to get off the stage. He thanks everyone for coming. We say goodbye to the people who have been sitting around us for the weekend with promises to see them again next year and exchanges of names and e-mail addresses. The crowd is slowly moving towards the gate, tired and mellow after a long weekend and a day baking under a hot sun. There’s a tinge of sadness in the air as this wonderful festival ends.

We hike up the hill and begin the process of preparing our rig for the road. I retrieve the truck from the parking lot where it has been sitting since Wednesday afternoon and we load the kayaks and bikes, have dinner and sit with Bob and Ann Cook looking out over the valley as dusk settles and the lights blink on.

We have had a wonderful time at Merlefest. It would not be too difficult to nit-pick the few elements that don’t work, but this is not necessary. On the whole, the experience has been terrific. Through a combination of long experience and professionalism, the management of Merlefest has made sure the bases are very well covered. Crowd management has been excellent. The sound stages are well dispersed and the sound systems superb. While there is plenty of noise, it never blasts the ears the way we have heard at arena rock concerts. There has been a huge variety of musical styles with an emphasis on traditional American music, but with plenty of contemporary interpretations of those sounds. I am grateful we have had a chance to see and hear Doc Watson in a variety of roles at this festival. At eighty years of age he is, he says, beginning to fade a bit. Today he has had some difficulty remembering lyrics, but his playing is superb, even though he says he has

lost some speed. I imagine what it would be like to have attended the first concert after Doc dies and not having had a chance to hear him.

The Merlefest organizers have managed to make a great deal of money for Wilkes Community College and for the many local organizations serving food and providing other services without ever becoming too commercial or appearing to be money grubbing. Features like the sand sculpture, the wounded hawk display, and the children’s activities are all provided at some expense to the festival but without charge to the customers. Vendors are limited to high quality merchandise and the food is excellent for festival fare without being too high priced. Opportunities for amateur musicians to jam together are abundant. The grounds are spacious and very attractively maintained. Transportation from distant parking places to the festival grounds is provided by the local Boy Scout troop. Buses run frequently and our experience with the shuttle from the RV lot to the main gate suggests the drivers are friendly and willing to dispense information. The porta-potties are abundant and frequently emptied and cleaned. Handicap access is excellent, as befits a festival headlined by a blind folksinger/guitarist. In the campgrounds it might be a good idea to provide some sort of shower facilities and to have a honey wagon come around to allow campers to dump their tanks, but four days is not too long to allow tanks to fill. By the end of Merlefest, we had used less than a fourth of our water supply. The crowds were always good-natured and friendly. The performers were generous with each other and to their audiences. Who could ask for more?