The Last Windrow: Bluegrass festival livens up Pine River
The first musical instrument sound I probably ever heard, outside of the organ at my church baptism, was probably that twang of a rhythm guitar.
My dad picked up the guitar during his hitch in the Army Air Corps in World War II and he brought the guitar home with him to the western Iowa farmland he called home. I can still hear the St. Louis Blues being played from that old farmhouse parlor.
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