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I have lived in Austin, Texas for over a year after moving here from Nashville, Tennessee. Man, do I have some stories about these two cities. They are both great towns and the destination to many pickers and grinner's too. In my own time I nestled into my own niche in both of these music capitols and loved every minute of it. However, when asked where I am from I never hesitate to say Dawson Springs, Kentucky.

I grew up in the town of Dawson Springs, Kentucky. Nestled into the curves and turns of the Tradewater River this piece of land has been home to Indians, pioneers, farmers, entrepreneurs, and a Governor.

Upon entering Dawson Springs from any direction you are greeted by a sign that reads: "Dawson Springs, Ky "A very special place." No truer words have ever been spoken. On my way back home from Nashville(now from the airport)when I reach Hospital Hill and make my decent into town, I admit that my eyes get misty at the thought of being Home. Driving through town I can usually name the folks that live in each home along the way with a smile; and a big wave will extend if they happen to be in the yard.


Since I usually make it home around the holidays I know that I am not the only one who has come from far and wide to be in this little town for a few days. Around these times this town fills up with cars with out of state plates.

I think a lot of life's journey consist of going home. I am so familiar with the streets and faces of this town that I can't help but smile when I think of it. Dawson Springs to me represents a Modern day Mayberry. This is a place that people really care when they ask: How are you? These are the people that know your life story without you having to tell them. The folks that remember your grandparents even if they have been gone for years.

Kentucky's Governor is a favorite son of this town and a few short years ago the towns people rallied around one of their own to help elect him to the highest office in the Commonwealth.

This town has a riveting history that dates back to 1874 when it was officially established. It was named Dawson when the railroad came through and town leader and major land owner's name was given to adorn the first depot. As the railroad began to draw it's lines across the land railroad workers in Dawson claimed that the water from Washington Irving Hamby's well eased their aches and pains and thus began Mr. Hamby's wheels turning. These were the sparks that lead to the spa era and the addition of Springs to the town's name.



People came from far and wide to reap the benefits from the spring water and hotels with sprawling porches, orchestras and beautiful parks began to pop up through out the town. Hotels with names like: The Arcadia, The New Century, The Summit, and what a grand time it must have been as the town rode high.


In the 1930's the depression hit and put an abrupt end to the spa era and times were hard in the region I called home; just as they were all across the country. My Grandfather (Step) Buddy Cato, recalled the hard times vividly. He said no one bought suits for graduation, they borrowed them. Times were hard, but as always, they made it through.

When the United States entered World War II many Dawson Springs boys enlisted and where spread across the globe protecting our country and others. The war and the increased need for coal to move supplies created another boom and the town began to crawl out of the depression. My Great Grandfather, Chesley Franklin, was one of the few people in the area that owned coal mines. These times proved to be good ones, and when the veterans of World War II came home, they settled in, built homes and started families; and the rest is history.

I don't think President Obama will mention Dawson Springs in his address tonight. But he should. And other towns like it. These small towns represent everything that is still good and decent out there. These are the places where a family of four sits around a table to eat dinner every night. Dawson Springs is a place that's faith is strong, a group of true blue Americans...and I do mean blue. Do I even have to make reference to the Kentucky Wild Cats?

Dawson Springs...why hasn't anyone written an anthem for you? Dawson Springs...my beautiful home.