Colton Bowlin, headliner of free July 3 concert at 76 Falls Country Club, is inspired by Albany and Clinton County

Colton Bowlin (Photo by Sommer Daniel)

By Al Cross

Colton Bowlin was riding with his grandfather in a truck, singing along with a Merle Haggard tune.

“That don’t sound half bad,” Gayle Bowlin told him. That compliment spurred Colton to teach himself to play guitar, and he started to write songs.

One was about his grandfather’s mill on the headwaters of the Clear Fork in Happy Hollow, where he worked before and after graduating from Pickett County High School in 2023. When Gayle Bowlin died in July 2024, Colton had written one verse of “Grandpa’s Mill.”

“After he had passed, I went back and finished it, as a way of mourning his passing,” Colton recalled in an interview. It became the title song of his latest album, released in March on State Line Records, his own label. “I decided to dedicate that record to him because of how close we were.”

Colton says on his website that the songs on the album were “written mostly between loading feed, swapping stories with old-timers, and playing local bars on weekends. I shaped these songs from the rhythms of real work and small-town life.” The album "has been named one of the year’s best so far by a number of outlets," notes Matt Wickstrom in the Lexington Herald-Leader.

Bowlin’s songs and rhythms will be featured Friday night, July 3, in the opening concert of the Spirit of 76 Celebration at the 76 Falls Country Club and golf course. The event will be free, but the nonprofit country club is selling VIP seats. Kristen Hunter and Thomas Oesterricher will be the opening acts.

The songs of Colton Bowlin are mainly about his life, the lives of people he has known, and stories he heard around the mill and elsewhere. His most-heard song on Spotify is “Don’t Come Home,” a country rocker that says he was “raised in the holler . . . mixing meal in an old feed mill.”

His second most-heard song is “Clinton County,” in which he sings, “The sounds of the city push away this hillbilly” and “Let me go back to the hills that I call home.”

Bowlin still lives in Albany. “I like to stay home as much as I can, stay out of the Nashville scene,” though “Nashville’s a great place,” he said. “I think I can bring out my best art in the quiet times, away from the noise of the city.” 

He says he is inspired by classic country and Southern rock, and by two Kentucky country stars, Sturgill Simpson and Tyler Childers, neither of whom he has met. “I try to lean more to the outlaw side of things, going against the grain,” he said. “I always love the dark songs.” 

What he would like people in Albany to know most about his music? “There’s always a meaning behind something. I’d like people to know that I try to write songs that people can relate to in some form or fashion. I just try to make music from the heart. . . . I want people to say, at the end of the day, that ‘He’s not fabricating anything; those are stories that could happen, or things that he’s seen.’”

Bowlin’s first album, “Songs from the Holler,” has millions of listens on Spotify. His latest album was produced by David Ferguson of Nashville, who has worked as a recording engineer with Childers and Simpson, and the late Johnny Cash and John Prine.

“I thought he fit the job that I wanted to get done the best, and his track record of who he’s worked with is cool, to say the least,” Bowlin said. The album was recorded at Chase Park Studios in Athens, Ga., with his band, “a lot of hippies from Atlanta: great guys, really talented musicians.”

Bowlin met Ferguson through Alan Scher of Atlanta, who became Bowlin’s co-manager in a meeting at McDonald’s in Albany. Now that he’s become known as a country artist, “I can’t even go in there much without somebody wanting a picture,” even at the drive-thru.

“Bowlin writes with a surprisingly mature perspective and sings with a deep, lived-in tone,” wrote Tennessean music reporter Bryan West, who related the story about the Gayle Bowlin compliment that started Colton toward a musical career.

People magazine online wrote of Colton, “By blending emotionally powerful country sonics with red-dirt sound, Bowlin evokes the energy of names such as Jason Isbell, Zach Bryan and the early work of BJ Barham and American Aquarium. Bowlin's emotionally charged, unique blend of Appalachian-honed, country-driven storytelling is precisely why his artistry has been noticed by everyone from Hank Williams Jr. to Asley McBryde, both of whom have tapped the budding star to open for them on tour.”

"It's mind-blowing," Bowlin says. "I just never would've thought that my songs would have that reach or even have the capability of reaching that far.”

Gayle Bowlin

He keeps reaching farther. On Sept. 11, he will perform on stage at the Ryman Auditorium, as an opening act for Paul Cauthen, a Grand Ole Opry artist. Entertaining at “the mother church of country music” seems to fulfill the promise he made to Gayle Bowlin.

“When my grandpa was getting pretty sick on his last few days, I would always tell him, ‘Don't worry, I'm going to make something of myself’,” he said. “He always wanted to make sure that I tried to follow in his footsteps, and he tried to be a good example . . . I told him I'm going to make something of myself and I want that to be something worth remembering, so that's what I'm striving to do.”

Chris Knight, a big voice of rural America, will headline free 'Spirit of 76' concert July 4 at 76 Falls Country Club

Knight says, "I just try to sing the songs like I mean it."

Singer-songwriter Chris Knight, in his 28th year as a recording artist telling the stories of rural America, will headline the concluding free concert of the Spirit of 76 Celebration at the Seventy Six Falls Country Club on Saturday, July 4, 2026, the 250th birthday of the United States of America.

Knight “remains boldly empowered to make music that always delivers the unflinching truth,” says the bio on his website. “That brutally honest, no-frills philosophy fits his Americana-fueled, backwoods-grown merger of folk, country, and rock.”

The musician grew up in Webster County, earned an agriculture degree from Western Kentucky University, and was a state strip-mine reclamation inspector and consultant for 10 years before embarking full-time on his entertainment career. He began writing songs when he was 26 after being inspired by hearing Steve Earle on the radio, and started performing at 30. After a couple of years he got a spot on songwriters’ night at the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville, and attracted the interest of music producer Frank Liddell, who signed him to a contract when he was 37.

When Liddell became an artist-and-repertoire representative for Decca Records, Knight got a contract with Decca, which released his self-titled debut album in 1998. At the time, Knight still lived in a 10'-x-15' trailer on 90 acres in Slaughters, Kentucky. Decca went out of business just two years later, but after two years without a label, Knight signed with Dualtone Music Group. He licensed his music to Dualtone for two records, then began released his music independently with the help of his manager.

His own songs have been the backbone of nine studio albums, from 2001’s A Pretty Good Guy and 2003’s The Jealous Kind, to two demo-styled discs (2007’s The Trailer Tapes and 2009’s Trailer II, recorded in his trailer at Slaughters), to the electric-guitar-heavy Almost Daylight in 2019. He collaborated with former Decca labelmate Lee Ann Womack on "You Lie When You Call My Name" on the Little Victories album in 2012. He was joined on the title track by his longtime musical hero, John Prine.

“Chris Knight is one of the most starkly honest lyricists working today, much like his late friend John Prine,” wrote Massachusetts music columnist Jay N. Miller. “His songs tell the stories or set the mood of working-class folk and their struggles in candid, often dark shadings. . . . There are songs about these people prevailing against tough odds, and also songs where it is clear they just won’t.”

Opening for Chris Knight will be Emi Sunshine and Larry Cordle, a country-and-bluegrass singer-songwriter best known for writing “Murder on Music Row,” recorded by George Strait and Alan Jackson, which received the Country Music Association award for Vocal Event of the Year, and was nominated for CMA Song of the Year in 2000. He plans to reunite his band, Lonesome Standard Time, at the Spirit of 76 Celebration. 

Eddie Paul Coop: The Big Wheel and the Sad Hammer

This is another in a series of stories about the colorful history of Seventy Six, Kentucky.

Eddie Paul Coop, right, shakes hands with Rep. Hal Rogers in 1982
as Mitch McConnell, then Jefferson County judge-executive, looks
 on. Coop was county Republican chairman. (Clinton County News)

It’s hard to believe that The Big Wheel has been dead for 20 years.

When you mention The Big Wheel, a lot of older folks in Clinton County immediately know who you’re referring to. For the younger people who don't, you sure did miss quite an experience. The Big Wheel was a memorable character.

Eddie Paul Coop was born and raised in Seventy-Six. Except for a few years living in Casey and Russell counties, where he worked at the radio stations there, he was a lifetime Seventy-Sixer.

E.P. was named for Senator Ed P. Warinner, another native of Seventy Six. That may have helped pique his interest in politics, and he sure stayed interested in them for his entire life. His father, a local constable, tragically died in a shootout when Eddie Paul was only a year old.

For all his adult life, Eddie Paul was a radio man. He hosted morning shows on the Russell Springs, Albany and Burkesville stations, and always had a following. His memorable line was, “It’s time to roll and go.” For years he referred to his constant companion, his dog Tadpole, as being by his side.

Eddie Paul was certainly creative, as well as entertaining. He authored one of the funniest Kentucky Derby fictional race calls, with jockeys aboard, which played locally every Derby Day, with Herman “Humdinger” Conner, well-known for his prominent snout, winning the radio race by a nose.

E.P. was quite the mischief maker. He could tell anything with a straight face, or, if on the radio, a solemn demeanor.

Jeff Hoover tells a great story about when Eddie Paul did Russell County basketball games for the Hoover family's radio station years ago. E.P. and Scott Hamm were doing the game at McCreary County, and when they got there, the telephone line was down and they weren't going to be able to transmit. Eddie Paul didn't let Scott know this important fact, and proceeded to set up and start talking as if they were on the air.

Something happened in the game and E.P. said Coach Allen “Feldhaus is mad as hell!” Scott waved his arms and motioned for Coop not to use that language on the airwaves.

E.P. went on, and a short time later, a questionable call occurred, and he proceeded to use very strong and prohibited language, with his comrade telling him all the while, “You can’t SAY that over the air!” Finally, after Eddie Paul had gone completely wild with outrageous talk, and Scott had gone to pieces listening, E.P. revealed to him that they weren't on the air and hadn't ever been. We don't think they rode back to Russell County together.

E.P. attended various government board meetings for Albany’s WANY, and if the news was slow he would make news, coming up with something controversial to make the news himself. In ways, he was brilliant. He could stir things up better than anybody in the county. He would take a position on nearly every issue, and nearly every political race. He was among the plaintiffs who filed suit to challenge the first version of the county occupational tax. He also filed a lawsuit to set aside magisterial redistricting. Things would happen if E.P. was around. And you always knew where he stood on every issue.

If he was on your side, there was no better ally. If he was against you, you were in for a hard fight. He might decide he was mad at you and you'd never understand why. You just had to treat him like he wasn't mad and then you’d see him and everything would be fine. But you'd soon know who else he had decided to be aggravated at instead of you.

He got the name "Little Wheel" at Robert York's store at Seventy Six, where most people in the community acquired their nicknames. As he grew older, that evolved into "The Big Wheel." He feared no man but had a heart of gold, doing a tremendous amount of good works for the people of Clinton County.

E.P. was commissioner of the local softball league and was known to get a bit riled up at the ballfield. He served many years as Republican election commissioner and also served as Republican county chairman. His brother Billy Joe was property valuation administrator for 31 years, but Eddie Paul ran for office only once, for magistrate, as an independent. It’s too bad he lost. It sure would have been a quite eventful four years of Fiscal Court meetings.

One of his favorite lines was about “the sad hammer” being put on someone due to their bad conduct. That term is a Clinton County original, a phrase he coined and promulgated. 

In trying to recall the origin of the phrase, we recall him telling the story of a young, naïve fellow who hadn't been seen in a while because he had been in jail. When asked how he fared in court. The poor fellow advised that everything seemed to be going very well for him until the judge brought down his gavel and ordered him to jail.

As the fellow colorfully put it, “I was doing real good until that ol’ judge brought that sad hammer down on me.”

And that’s how a memorable, unique local phrase was born.

 

Free breakfast for veterans, Guard and Reserve, active-duty military and spouses July 4 at VFW post in West Albany

The Veterans of Foreign Wars Garlin Murl Conner Post #1096 will serve a free breakfast for veterans, National Guard and Reserve members and active-duty military members and their spouses Saturday, July 4, from 8 to 10 a.m. at the post on Hopkins Street in West Albany. A notice from the veterans says, "Post 1096 is honored to participate in the Spirit of Seventy Six, and we remind all that if not for the effort and sacrifice of America's veterans the flame of the Spirit of 76 and the shining light of the United States of America would have been distinguished long ago."

Film on Medal of Honor winner Murl Conner to be shown July 3 and 4, followed by panel discussions about his and veterans’ lives, including state Treasurer Mark Metcalf

By Al Cross

More than 3,500 service members have won the Medal of Honor, but no one earned it and won it quite like Garlin Murl Conner, who was from Indian Creek in Clinton County.

The story of Conner’s World War II heroism, and the efforts of friends and admirers to get him the medal 20 years after he died, is told in an hour-long documentary, “From Honor to Medal: The Story of Garlin M. Conner,” which has aired many times on KET.

The documentary will be shown Friday and Saturday, July 3 and 4, at 3 p.m. both days, at the Mount Union Christian Church near 76 Falls. The showings will be followed by panel discussions about Conner’s life and veterans’ experiences. Panelists will include State Treasurer Mark Metcalf, a veterans’ advocate.

From The New Era, Albany, Nov. 11, 1944

One item up for discussion is whether Conner was the most decorated American soldier of World War II. That title is typically given to Audie Murphy, who was in the Third Infantry Division with Conner and earned his Medal of Honor two days later and a few miles away, in Alsace in eastern France in January 1945. Conner received four Silver Stars, two more than Murphy, and said he was wounded seven times, but the records of his Purple Hearts were destroyed in a fire at a federal records center.

Audie Murphy came home to fame and fortune as a Medal of Honor winner and movie star. Murl Conner earned the Distinguished Service Cross, which wasn’t upgraded to the Medal of Honor until 2018. He came home to a Kentucky farm with no electricity or running water. He had a family, gave them a good life, and was a leader of his fellow farmers and veterans. He suffered in body and mind from his Army service, but said very, very little about it.

He had offered the ultimate sacrifice, calling in artillery on his forward observer’s position, to stave off an attack by a German tank unit. He had volunteered for the task soon after being released for treatment of a leg wound. His valor earned him Medal of Honor, after a campaign he authorized shortly before his death in 1998.

His story was first told by a rank stranger who became his greatest advocate and inspired others to join his campaign to get Conner the Medal of Honor. Led by a neighbor who wouldn’t take no for an answer, they struggled for 20 years to break through the Army bureaucracy, losing at every turn – but remaining inspired by Murl Conner’s battlefield examples of determination and resolve.

In the end, in an amazing turn of events, they won. Their story is told in the documentary, produced by the Institute for Rural Journalism and Community Issues at the University of Kentucky.

“He was a combination of Kit Carson and Davy Crockett,” said the late Walton Haddix of Albany, who took up the campaign begun by Richard Chilton, a Green Beret veteran from Genoa City, Wisconsin, who met Conner and learned his story while researching the service of his uncle, who died at Anzio under Conner’s command.

“He cared about his men more than anybody I ever knew,” Chilton says. “If you want to save your life, go out with Murl. Don’t go out with anybody else.”

The documentary was sponsored by private donors and the Veterans Trust Fund of the Kentucky Department for Veterans Affairs, which assisted the Conner team’s legal efforts at the direction of then-Commissioner Heather French Henry, whose cause was veterans when she was Miss America. She says in the documentary, “Just to know that you are part of this great mission that has lasted so long, and that you could at some point in your future, tell your kids, tell your grandkids, that once upon a time you were part of this fight . . . ”

President Trump embraces Pauline Conner at White House (EPA-EFE)

The fight ended June 26, 2019, when President Trump presented the Medal of Honor to Conner’s widow, Pauline Conner, in a ceremony at the White House. She said in a speech at the Pentagon the next day, “This is what Murl would want me to say: God bless these United States of America.”

The documentary was written and directed by Jeff Hoagland of Lexington. The associate producer was Janet Whitaker, formerly of KET and the Institute for Rural Journalism. The writer of this article, who was director of the Institute at the time, was executive producer.

The panel discussion about Murl Conner’s life and the effort to get him the Medal of Honor will be led by his cousin, Luther C. “Hoppy” Conner Jr., a lawyer who was part of the effort. Metcalf, the state treasurer, has made veterans and military personnel one of seven communities in his Financial Empowerment Coalition and Database.

76 Falls Country Club and Golf Course will have two tournaments Friday and Saturday, July 3 and 4

The nonprofit 76 Falls Country Club and Golf Course will host the big evening events of the Spirit of 76 Celebration: the concerts and the Saturday night fireworks show. During the daylight hours it will hold two tournaments, as outlined on this promotional card. Please share it with golfers who might be interested!

The spirits of Seventy Six

We have no idea what the whiskey distilleries at Seventy Six
looked like, so we're using this illustration from pngtree.com.

By David M. Cross

Something not generally well known in Clinton County is its history of distilling, and particularly in the community of Seventy Six.

Before Prohibition, whiskey was legally made in every community in Clinton County. Usually, in this part of the country, brandy was the alcoholic beverage produced. Brandy is alcohol distilled from fermented fruit juice, in this area usually apples or blackberries.

Stills were licensed by the federal government, and an inspector would come around every so often to inspect the stored whiskey and gauge the proof. These men were called “storekeepers and gaugers” and these were prized federal patronage appointees. A.B. Parrigin and Judge S.G. Smith were among those holding this position. (Full disclosure: My grandfather Al Cross operated a government-licensed still for several years in the Beaty community.)

When locals were arrested for violating federal tax laws (that’s why federal agents were called “revenuers”) they would be taken to an appointed United States commissioner, who would determine whether the case would go on to U.S. District Court, generally in Bowling Green. Locally, Judge J.A. Perkins, who has numerous descendants in Clinton County, was the commissioner for several years under Republican administrations.

William Sloan, known as "Wild Bill" locally, was for many years a deputy U.S. marshal who would form posses to assist revenue agents when they were seeking out local stills. Wild Bill had quite a reputation of his own, on both sides of the law. He was, to say the least, a very colorful character, as was his son-in-law. J.A. “Dean” Tompkins, sometimes an attorney and sometimes a defendant in the local courts. They, too, have numerous descendants remaining in the county.

According to various records that we can find, these distillers operated in the Seventy Six area:

    W.H. Hammons & John Ryan

    John Ryan: This still was over the hill behind Wayne Ryan's house. They made apple and blackberry brandy and there was a very large orchard on the Ryan farm furnishing the apples.

    T.L. Davis: Bobby Johnson states that a Tom Davis distillery was located west of and over the hill from the Bobby Reneau house at the junction of KY 734 and KY 1266.

    J.A. Warinner: The Warinners operated a large store at Seventy Six.

    Walter Neathery, McKinley & Neathery, Tilford (Til) Neathery, Jarvis & Lawrence, William Prince & J.M. Davis: In 1907 Prince's still was seized by authorities. In 1910 Prince leased a tract in Seventy Six to Lewis A. York for distilling for eight years. Prohibition began in January 1920. 

 

We find a published report that the following distillers, having been twice convicted for selling liquor in local-option territory, would be required to give a $500 bond “for their good behavior for the next 12 months": Thomas Lee, Richard McWhorter, Bill Prince, J .M. Davis, and Joe Griffin. These were at Seventy-Six and also at Huntersville, which was a hot spot for distilling and the site of several "line houses," shacks on the Tennessee border where whiskey was sold.