The old Piney Woods Opry germinated during a rainstorm.

Proud of their new gazebo, the Abita Springs town fathers planned a concert in the charming structure. When a downpour ensued, the no-name string band from the now-defunct Evening Star Coffeehouse ran for cover into the century-old Town Hall.

After the concert, singer-guitarist Pat Flory noted, “This is the kind of hall where this old-time country music was played.” Soon there was a buzz among local residents that, indeed, the rambling frame structure was the perfect place to play country music.

So was born the Piney Woods Opry, and the Evening Star String Band headed by Flory became the house band. The show had phenomenal success, and soon the organizers were turning people away. So they put a closed circuit television on the porch and benches on the sidewalk for those who came too late to gain entry.

The plug was pulled in March 2000 after a highly successful run of eight years. It had become too much work for the few volunteers. The Opry stage was dark for more than two years. Bryan Gowland, former Abita Springs mayor and the emcee of the show, says he got more calls and comments about bringing the Opry back than any other issue, even potholes and drainage.

The show did come back in November 2002 under a new name, the Abita Springs Opry. The struggle for funding has eased, but corporate underwriting is still sought because costs aren’t met by ticket sales. Gowland attributes the full houses to an underserved audience who now have a venue to hear their music.

The Opry music is unplugged, with all acoustic instruments in keeping with the spirit of old-time country music. Allowances are made for bass guitar, keyboard for gospel groups and the Dobro, or steel guitar, so much a part of traditional country music.

Among the regular performers are Bob Lambert; his wife, June; and Harold Cavallero. From Washington Parish, they are members of country music’s first generation of players.

While traditional country music, bluegrass and Southern gospel are still the main focus of the Opry, producer Beth Sager has broadened the program in the hopes of widening the show’s appeal. The emphasis in the early ’90s was on Florida Parishes music. Now the mission is to preserve and present all Louisiana roots music, including blues, jazz, Cajun and zydeco.

“We’re putting on a new spin to reach a new generation. We hope to get young people interested by bringing in young artists,” Sager says. A recent feature was Ghost Town, featuring Christian Serpas, with a style and sound much like Elvis and a lot of Johnny Cash.

That doesn’t mean you won’t hear honky tonk and hillbilly at the Opry, songs of lost love and long trains. One band came complete with a washtub fiddle. A singer bragged that she had played every honky tonk in Louisiana–then she performed a stirring rendition of “The Old Wooden Cross.”

“There is so much talent, we have no trouble finding groups to play,” says Sager. “Everyone wants to play here.” A former music columnist, Sager came to the Opry with a handy knowledge of local bands, and fills her program with other groups off the internet. One of the most creative was the Broken Glass bluegrass ensemble from Illinois. In introducing them, Gowland made a point of stating they were from “southern” Illinois.

Sager schedules the show down to the minute, and keeps the groups on time by positioning an atomic clock on the stage behind a speaker. “Everybody’s watch has a different time, and I didn’t want them looking at their watches during the show,” she says. Precise timing is of the essence for the concerts, which are shown on St. Tammany Cable Access Television. The Opry board is negotiating with a radio station for live broadcasts.

Because of the overwhelming popularity of the show, Sager has added music on the porch to entertain those waiting in line for the doors to open at 5:30 p.m., as well as pre-show entertainment inside at 6 p.m. once the audience is seated.

“The people, the place, the music all come together here. This is as good as it gets,” says Gowland, who also serves as Opry board president. “The Opry defines Abita Springs.” If that is so, then he defines the Opry. As emcee, Gowland is the heart and soul of the show, from the moment he opens with “Welcome to the Abita Springs Opry in the Town Hall located deep in the heart of Abita Springs where the water is pure and life is sweet.”

And the show is as fresh as a glass of pure spring water. No smoking permitted on the premises, and no alcoholic beverages are served. “What we have here is clean family fun,” says Gowland.

With its pecky cypress walls, old wooden floors and a dozen ceiling fans, the spacious, open town hall creates an ambiance that’s perfect for these musical evenings of family entertainment. The rafters shake and the floor vibrates as the audience stomps its feet in rhythm. No one ever leaves early, despite sitting on metal folding chairs.
Over the years, the national media has taken notice of the concerts in the St. Tammany hamlet. Both CBS “Eye on America” and the Public Broadcasting System have filmed the Town Hall shows.

The Abita Strings, led by Joe Manuel, now serves as the house band, opening with a set that is the ideal preface for the show: a ballad, a spiritual and some driving bluegrass fiddling. The group plays original fiddle tunes in a style called flat-picking, which came from Appalachia.

Between sets by the four or five bands featured each night, musician and Opry board member Sam Alfano serves a little cornpone, with the help of Gowland. “It’s okay to groan at our jokes,” the ex-mayor urges. “We judge how good they are by how loud the moans are.” When a Cajun band plays, Gowland is sure to climb on stage and to play the Cajun triangle or “tite frere.” The banjo, mandolin and fiddle are the most frequently sighted instruments on the Opry stage.

A sing-a-long serves as the show’s sign-off. Using the words printed on the program, the audience doesn’t need any encouragement to belt out spirituals such as “Do Lord,” or “I Saw the Light,” while joyously clapping their hands. Gospel songs seem to punctuate each show, causing one singer to observe, “We are really bringing Jesus into this hall tonight.”

As the crowd numbering close to 400 slowly shuffles through the door, Gowland shakes hands with all he can reach. Most of them walk out smiling.

Copyright 2004, M&L Publishing, all rights reserved.