I love my Papa! Growing up, my sister and I always looked forward to jumping in the car with our dad and going to do puppet shows all around the Rocky Mountain Range. He’d have me play fiddle in front of the stage before the shows, and I remember being thrilled to break out my brand new Jack of Diamonds in front of an audience. My dad played some guitar and we’d spend long hours playing fiddle tunes from the Fiddler’s Fakebook. My dad was the one who’d take me to my late-night fiddle lessons with Dale Morris.

Papa was the one who’d take me to the smoke-filled bars to have my first experiences playing in bands as a 16-year-old. I’m a lucky gal, my dad was always and still is supportive of my music. Just two days ago he came up to Frisco, CO with me to watch my first gig in a year. Boy was that a treat! (There were about 300 people there who were also experiencing their first live music since before the shutdown). So, I’m eternally grateful to my dad, Ed Glassman, for encouraging me, showing up for late-night gigs, and always letting the sound engineer know if the fiddle wasn’t loud enough 🙂

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