From birth to age four I was lucky enough to frequently sit at the feet of my dear ol’ pop in Parkville, Missouri, while he strummed his guitar with his brothers. Grandpa Rausch with a mountain dulcimer in his lap or a harmonica to his lips, mama singin’ along . . . I danced in the cigarette smoke and played ball in the house with my sister and cousins. There was a bloody nose here and there and babies a-cryin’, but above all the music never stopped.... more