Caption: We’ve had a couple of our “tours” of Sodom during the work on this project. Just being in the place that Sheila, Andrew and I are all so deeply connected to has been one of my favorite parts of this work.
Being Part of the Story
It’s a little hard to explain what it feels like to be part of something that, in a lot of ways, helped shape your own life. For me, that’s what this project has been.
Getting to spend this time with Sheila Kay Adams, my cousin, my mentor, someone whose voice has always just kind of been there in the background of my life, has meant more to me than I really know how to put into words.
She’s told stories her whole life. She’s an accomplished published author herself. So getting to sit with her now, hearing things in her own words, asking questions, watching her remember is something I don’t take for granted. Not just because of who she is out in the world, but because of who she is to me, our family and this place.
How I Got Here
Through my involvement as an Ambassador with Appalachian Memory Project and Sound Archive Books—both book and archive publishers—I’ve stepped into a professional role that connects me to this work in new ways.
On one hand, I’m learning the tools and processes that go into making these books, working on this and other projects to help gather, organize, and shape the materials that tell stories. On the other, I’m carrying that work out into the world through the Nest of Singing Birds—through performances, conversations, and gatherings where these songs and stories can be shared in a living way.
What’s become clear to me is just how many stories are still waiting to be told, and how important it is that the people closest to them are part of that work from the beginning. This feels like the start of something that will continue to grow as part of my life’s work, both on the stage and through the work we’re doing to bring these books into the world.
Sitting With it
A lot of this has just been time spent with my cousin (and Sheila’s son) Andrew Barnhill who has worked alongside Sheila for years and is also serving as one of the paid archivists on this project. The two of us sitting together, going through boxes, recordings, old papers, pieces of Sheila’s life that have been tucked away for years. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like we were “working on something” and started feeling like we were just spending time together again.
Sheila even made us biscuits and gravy for breakfast the other morning.
It’s brought us back even closer as family. There’s something about sitting side by side, sorting through all of this, that reconnects you without you even realizing it’s happening.
We’ll open something up and just kind of pause.
Letters from Dolly Parton. Notes from former presidents. Things that remind you just how far her voice has traveled. And then right alongside that, there are the smaller things, the ones that probably wouldn’t stand out to anyone else, but to us, they do. There have been plenty of moments where we just sit there and look at each other like… did you know this was in here? And usually the answer is no.
Finding Myself in It
There was one moment that’s really stuck with me.
I came across an old magazine article where Sheila was being interviewed when she was younger. And in it, she said something that kind of blew my mind. She said, “I didn’t realize that other people didn’t do this kind of thing. I thought everybody’s family played music, danced and sang.”
And I just kind of sat there for a second. Because I’ve said that same thing for years. Almost word for word. And I had no idea that she said the exact same thing years before me.
It was one of those moments where it all just clicked in a different way. Not in some big, dramatic sense, but seeing it in print like that, made me realize how truly similar we are.
Traveling Back
There’s also this feeling that’s hard to describe, but we’ve both talked about it. It feels like we’re getting to travel back in time a little bit. Hearing their voices and seeing their handwriting. Remembering stories you hadn’t thought about in years.
It feels like getting to spend time with our people again, the ones who have already moved on to whatever comes next. And the fact that we get to do that together, that’s something I’ll cherish forever. This has been a reminder that making the time matters. Both as family and as part of the work and that we have a way now to do it ourselves, in a way that feels true to where these stories come from.
While She’s Here
Another thing that keeps coming back to me through all of this is how special it is that Sheila is here for it. That she can tell us, “that’s not quite how it happened,” or “you need to ask so-and-so about that,” or just laugh and shake her head at something we’ve found.
There’s something really special about that. She keeps everything real and helps make sure the voice of the whole project feels true. And it makes it feel less like looking back… and more like sitting right in the middle of it.
Being Part of If
I don’t really have a big, fancy way to wrap all of this up. I just know how it feels. It feels like getting to sit with something that actually matters. It feels like getting to see pieces of a life you thought you already understood and realizing there’s more there. It feels like getting to be part of something you didn’t actually expect to be part of.
And more than anything, it feels like getting to do this with the people I love and I’m really grateful that I am. This work is happening now, with Sheila still here to shape it, and in the hands of the people who know her best—not left to be interpreted later by someone from a distance.
This book is already becoming more than just a book. In addition to preserving Sheila’s legacy, it is a signpost to the future of where we will take the Madison County ballad singing tradition. It’s something we’ll carry with us out into the world, something that will sit (and sell!) on the merch table at our shows, something that helps tell the deeper story behind the Nest of Singing Birds community Sheila has built, and something that opens the door for more gatherings, more conversations, and more opportunities to share these songs in a fuller way. It’s becoming a kind of bridge between the music, the stories, and the people who want to be part of it.
I feel grateful to be in a place where my own growth as a performer and as someone representing this work can exist alongside something so personal. There’s a balance to it, honoring where I come from while also stepping forward into new opportunities. And this project has shown me that those two things don’t have to be separate.
Support Our Work
If this kind of work matters to you—taking the time to listen, remember, and preserve these stories while we still can—you can support the project. Every bit of support helps make this possible—and helps sustain the work.