06/25/2025
Billy Strings and a ‘thin place’ called Pisgah
By Scott White
Managing Editor
If you are a fan of Bluegrass, Americana or even Jam band music, you have either heard of or are likely a lover of the music of Billy Strings. Considered a guitar prodigy and virtuoso who writes his own songs as well as bends covers to his own unique style and has played or recorded with artists as diverse as Phish, Del McCoury, Sam Bush and Bob Wier of the Grateful Dead, Strings is now considered one of the top touring acts in the country.
Strings recently brought his artistry to Central Kentucky, playing two sold-out concerts this past Friday, June 20 and Saturday, June 21, at Rupp Arena. He has won a Grammy, two “Entertainer of the Year” International Bluegrass Awards and headlined the iconic Newport Folk Music and Merlefest festivals.
One can imagine, then, the shock of the audience in Rupp on Friday night when Strings took the stage and announced he had learned early that morning that his mother had unexpectedly passed away in her sleep. It seems unfathomable that he was able to gather himself to even walk on the stage.
Stepping into the spotlight, and instead of canceling, Strings said this was “probably going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” Warning the audience that he couldn’t predict how things might end up, he said, “This is up in the air . . . it depends on how much strength I can muster and how much I can lean on y’all.”
It was hardly a surprise that instead of typically jumping into a raved-up Bluegrass high-energy show opener, Strings reached far back into the tradition of Kentucky mountain music and pulled out the old Stanley Brothers gospel song, “I’ve Just Seen the Rock of Ages.”
He and his band then left everyone awed by what, award-winning Lexington Herald-Leader music critic Walter Tunis described as a two-and-a-half hour, two-set performance replete with “generous examples of traditions that fueled Strings’ music, along with shades of the modern accents that have popularized such sounds to a generation raised as much on groove as grass. Still, this was a performance where the drive and beauty revolved around introspection.”
And, then, he did it again the next night, which begs the question, how does an artist go from the shock of grief to performing a transcendent concert?
Woodford County’s Hannah McIntyre knows the answer. McIntyre is the pastor at the 168-member Pisgah Presbyterian Church, the oldest Presbyterian congregation west of the Alleghenies founded in 1784 and still worshiping in the same building erected in 1812. It sits on 30 acres and is surrounded by hardwoods and an adjacent cemetery where Revolutionary War veterans rest.
And, this is where McIntyre found the world-famous Billy Strings sitting on a bench last Friday morning.
“I had a meeting that morning with the staff of Stable Recovery, a drug and alcohol recovery program we are partnering with, and I was taking them from the office to show them our sanctuary, and I saw this young man sitting on one of the benches by the entrance by himself, who was clearly very distraught,” she said. “He was upset, crying, and I started talking to him and told the folks I was with we’d catch up later.”
McIntyre soon learned his mother had unexpectedly died that morning, and after he hung up the phone with his wife, he left his hotel and just started walking. He told her, “I saw the steeple and it was like a beacon and I just came here, I knew it was where I was supposed to be.”
McIntyre said she asked him what he needed for her to do, and whether he would like to come into the church and perhaps pray.
“We went inside, it was just us and we prayed. We sat in silence and I asked him to talk about his mom,” she said. Without going into specifics, she said, “He told me, I don’t know where I was coming from or what to do, I am playing two shows at Rupp this weekend and don’t know if I can do it.”
McIntyre said she knew this wasn’t an ordinary visitor – she had no clue who he was and thought maybe he played in a band.
“It’s not unusual at all for people to come to Pisgah seeking quiet or a peaceful place. My office has large windows and I can see folks frequently drive up and get out,” she explained. “I’ll go out and ask if they want to go inside and see the church since it’s historical, and often folks want to talk and sometimes they are seeking comfort, assurance, peace and that is part of my role as pastor. It is what we do at Pisgah.”
“We spent some good time together, praying, him talking about his mother, sitting in silence, and I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted, but since he was walking, I’d like him to let me drive him to where he was staying because Pisgah could be dangerous to walk on,” she said. “So, when he was ready, I drove him to his hotel, gave him my number and told him he was free to call anytime he felt he wanted to talk or pray.”
And, that was that . . . or, so McIntyre thought.
Here is how Strings described it from the stage on Friday night.
“I walked until I saw this little country church. It was like a beacon,” he told the crowd that night. “I went there and I knocked on the door, and this kind lady let me in. She stayed with me and prayed with me and eventually gave me a ride back to where I was staying.”
Though McIntyre had never heard of Strings or his music, folks who attended the show, some of whom were her friends, began to put two and two together. Soon, people were posting on Facebook and sending her texts.
“This was not a big thing for me . . . I mean, this is not unusual for me at Pisgah.” But, a friend of a friend wanted to give her two tickets to the Saturday show, and she and one of her oldest and dearest friends, Brittain “Grits” Skinner, were knocked out by the man she had spent intimate spiritual time with the morning before.
“Meeting him was special because of his need at that time and how I practice ministry,” she explained. “Hearing him perform, knowing what he was going through, what he had just experienced, I couldn’t help but hear him in that emotional space . . . I heard him through that lens and it colored my perception of the depth of his art in a very positive way.”
McIntyre spoke about the specialness of Pisgah, “(It) is a ‘thin place’ where the barrier between heaven and earth, humanity and God is really thin . . . almost nonexistent. People are drawn here, come here because of that. . . . They, all of us, are seeking something divine and they find it here. Folks are called to Pisgah to draw closer, to get in touch with God, Jesus or whatever they need.”
Hannah was also quick to point out a person does not need to be trained in theology or to be a called and installed minister. “Any of us with empathy can be there for somebody in these situations,” she said.
Hannah is clear: God is always waiting, along with her, at a little country church where, as she loves to say, “I’m just a simple, country pastor”. The best kind.
