Making Music

At the crossroads of the mighty Ohio River and the fast-paced Interstate 70 is the small city of Wheeling, West Virginia. With Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to the East and Columbus, Ohio, to the West, it is the front door to the Heartland. 

It’s where, over a century ago, America’s industrial powers first shook hands with the mountain folk of Appalachia, forever shifting the physical and economic landscape of the endless array of people and cultures that converged and blended into an ethos all its own in these parts. 

On Jan. 7, 1933, the town became world-renowned for country, bluegrass, folk and mountain music with the launching of the “Wheeling Jamboree” on the WWVA radio station.  

“The word ‘crossroads’ is key because Wheeling was the first gateway to the West,” said Dave Heath, president of the Wheeling Jamboree and its current station, WWOV 101.1 FM. “When the East Coast became industrialized and people wanted to flock west, the Wheeling suspension bridge was that gateway. And one of the things passing back and forth through here was great music.” 

In a similar format and style to WSM’s Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee, which was launched in 1925, the Jamboree remains the second oldest country music radio broadcast in the country after the Opry. 

“Just like the WSM Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, the WLS [National] Barn Dance in Chicago and the Louisiana Hayride in Shreveport, [the Jamboree] had this large listenership,” said Tim O’Brien. “There was a clear channel after 7 p.m. and they had a higher power once the other stations went off-air,” meaning there was less interference.

A Wheeling native, O’Brien is a musical icon in bluegrass, country, folk and traditional music circles. At 66, the multi-instrumentalist remains a pillar of Appalachian music, history and lore. 

“So, I was into all of this music [as a kid]—learning how to play guitar, getting into country and bluegrass—and [the Jamboree] was a chance to see the pros play,” O’Brien said. “Whether it was the Jamboree house band or the visiting performers, I got into just going to see music shows after I started playing. And I would go down there [to the Jamboree].” 

Aside from his numerous hit songs and acclaimed albums, O’Brien’s also a founding member of legendary string act Hot Rize, which was the International Bluegrass Music Association first “Entertainer of the Year” in 1990. The IBMA also honored him with “Male Vocalist of the Year” in 1993 and 2006. 

O’Brien won the Grammy for “Best Traditional Folk Album” in 2005. In 2013, he was inducted into the West Virginia Music Hall of Fame. The next year, O’Brien won the Grammy for “Best Bluegrass Album” as a member of The Earls of Leicester.

At the Jamboree, “I liked getting to see the pros and sort of get a sense of what it was all about,” O’Brien said. “Though I didn’t find out until later on, there were a lot of people I knew later in Wheeling that had been on [the Jamboree] in the early years.”

WWVA was also the first 50,000-watt clear channel station in West Virginia. This meant the Jamboree could be broadcasted far and wide. With the Opry showcased all over the Southeast and beyond, the Jamboree instead shot its signal north, into the Mid-Atlantic states, New England and most of Eastern Canada. 

“It was very important for country music people to play” on that stage. “You could make a name for yourself. Where the Grand Ole Opry broadcasted their signal in a circle, WWVA broadcasted a beam towards the North,” O’Brien said. “It didn’t punch out into the Midwest or the South. It went north, so that’s why all these bluegrass [musicians] came from the North and the Maritime Provinces in Canada—they heard WWVA.” 

And every Saturday night, the Jamboree was not only broadcasted on WWVA, it would also be held in front of a live audience. In April 1933, a crowd of over 3,200 crammed into the Capitol Theatre in downtown Wheeling to see and listen to the wild and wondrous music with their own eyes and ears.

Heath, 61, recalls fond memories of the show from his childhood. “It was an incredible experience for a little guy. You’d have 3,000 people all whooping it up and carrying on—the memories are vivid,” Heath said. 

“According to our history books, in the 1930s and 1940s, the Jamboree would sell roasted peanuts. The floor would be covered with peanut shells, the kids sliding across the floor to the music.”

“I think I was 14 or 15, and I remember my dad dropping me off in front of the Capitol Theatre with probably seven bucks in my pocket, so I could buy a Coke and some popcorn and pay $2.50 for the cheap seat,” O’Brien said. 

In a tradition that continues today, listeners bring cow bells into the show to click and clank with approval and appreciation between each song and act. Initially, the cow bells (with each carrying a distinct tone) were rung to signal to family back at home listening to the radio that their loved one made to the Jamboree and was safe. 

“[The Jamboree] had this thing, this sort of velvet rope along the aisle to right, against the far end of auditorium. You could go wait in line with other people who wanted to take a picture of whoever was on the stage,” O’Brien said. “You wait in line, take your picture, then go back to your seat. I never had a camera, but I’d get up there just so I could get closer, seeing I had the cheap seats in the balcony.”

During its storied run as a broadcasting giant through the golden era of country and bluegrass music, the Jamboree stage hosted the likes of musical megastars Loretta Lynn, Buck Owens, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, Tammy Wynette, George Jones, The Osborne Brothers, Charley Pride, Merle Haggard, and hundreds of other beloved artists. 

“With bluegrass, I saw Jimmy Martin, and the first time I got to look at Ricky Skaggs, who had just joined The Country Gentlemen,” O’Brien recalled. “The first time I saw Marty Stuart was there, he had just started playing with Lester Flatt—it was inspiring to me.”

In its later years, the Jamboree spinoff, Jamboree in the Hills, brought to the stage Reba McEntire, Tanya Tucker, Willie Nelson, Alan Jackson and Brad Paisley (with Paisley growing up just outside of Wheeling, the Jamboree an enormous early influence in his ultimate career path). 

“I saw Jerry Lee Lewis a couple of times, Jerry Reed, Merle Haggard and Charley Pride. Charley’s show was apparently the record attendance for [the Jamboree] (four sold out shows with over 10,000 attendees in October 1971),” O’Brien said. “This was right when [Charley] was riding high with ‘Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’.’ There’s a picture of the crowd waiting to see Charley Pride in front of the Capitol Theatre. I’m in that picture with my then girlfriend.”

Over the decades, the Jamboree has bounced through a variety of venues in Wheeling. Though it’s currently in the Jamboree Event Center & Museum—just across the street from the Capitol Theatre—the show does have plans to return at some point, at least semi-regularly, to the Capitol. 

But, all is not hot guitar licks, songbird vocal stylings and a howling audience for the Jamboree. Between its ongoing trouble finding a permanent stage for its performances and broadcasts, the Jamboree is at a literal crossroads—one of financial security and cultural preservation. 

“Although WWOV is keeping the Jamboree going with our small-but-loyal fan base, we don’t have the station power, resources, staff and footprint that WWVA once had,” Heath noted. “And a lot of the local and regional media doesn’t cover the Jamboree like it used to. It’s a day-to-day struggle to stay relevant in the eyes of the people here.” 

Aside from its small board of directors and a handful of generous patrons, there’s also the sporadic Appalachian professor (and collegiate archive) keeping the memory of the Jamboree alive. Fundraising efforts are always being undertaken and grants constantly chased down. But, even with performances scheduled to take place this April, the state of the show is anyone’s guess at this point. 

“I think the Jamboree is important to the area, but I don’t think a lot of people who live here look at it that way. They don’t have an affinity for country music, where a lot of them stigmatize country music rather than embrace it,” Heath said solemnly. “I want to see it survive. We haven’t been able to find any young people who want to step in and do it. Some don’t have the technical prowess or historical background, which is something we struggle with.” 

Not to be defeat, Heath said he views obstacles as opportunities. For the last 13 years, he’s dedicated his life to ensuring the survival and growth of the Jamboree. And each time he might feel down and out about fighting for this cause, it is those Saturday night broadcasts that keep fueling the fire within. 

“I have to switch roles because I wear a lot of hats on show night—broadcast announcer, manning the equipment, checking the live recording,” Heath said. “But, in the heat of the moment of the broadcast, I can attest to the magic of the Jamboree—the performers, the audience, and the music created on stage.”