God Works in Mysterious Ways

How Rural Revival Project got its start

It’s been said the world is an endless struggle between chaos and order. Crisis- destruction followed by organization and intention. The two concepts forever linked~ dependent on each other for creation. We’ve all witnessed things fall apart, and perhaps this is the more common experience of man. There are, however- special times in our collective experience of civilization, when things come together.

Metal work at Rural Revival Project. (Photo Oran O’Carroll)

Last weekend in Spruce Pine, we launched the Rural Revival Project. It was a magical first weekend of live musical performances, hog roasting, blacksmithing and baptism. An event that seemed highly unlikely only a year ago. But as my mother says- ‘God works in mysterious ways’

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Eight years ago, Chris saw a stranger sitting on an ATV at a trailhead. He walked up and struck up conversation, curious about the side-by-side. The stranger was Brian and they hit it off straightaway, becoming fast friends. Before long, Brian and his wife Heather would host parties at their house with big bonfires where people would hang out, drink beer, and have a good time. Chris would pull out his guitar and sing. The talent was obvious. They begged him to perform on a larger stage.

Lower street in Spruce Pine had 3500 people celebrating in the exact place where only months earlier it had been decimated by floods. (Photo James Luke Barber)

Years later in West Virginia, Draven was working construction and passionate about Appalachian music. He’d started a small YouTube channel RadioWV to help promote the local talent of his homeland and surrounding region. Little did he know it would soon be a national phenomenon.

Chris wanted to play music for a living. He’d been posting songs recorded on his phone and gotten a little traction with “Doggonit”. Instead of using his real name, he chose his Grandfather’s, Oliver Anthony, partially as a tribute to the hardscrabble survivors he calls kin, and partially to avoid detection by bosses who might’ve found songs about weed. His goal was simple: Get a song on Draven’s YouTube channel, get fifty thousand views, use that link to get into local bars, play live sets, and make a little money. That, combined with income from renting on HipCamp might make enough to break free from the paycheck. He began cyberstalking Draven, sending DMs, emails, trying to get his phone number. Finally, on a summer day in 2023, he got through. Two days later, they set up Draven’s cameras and microphone in the woods at Chris’ homestead, and at Draven’s urging, recorded one of Chris’ unfinished songs, Rich Men North of Richmond. He finished the song the day before the recording.

Chaos. It was the first time in music history an artist’s initial song went straight to number one. But to call the song a hit is misleading- the song, in and of itself- became the clarion call of a social awakening. Comments and reaction videos poured in from around the globe. It was a collective cry of anger, resignation, determination and raw beauty channeled through an old soul. Within a few days, the song had been viewed millions of times, and within a few weeks it was brought up at the Republican presidential debate before Chris, now known to the world as Oliver, shut down any attempts at politicization.

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What happened next was predictable. Large record labels converged like spring parasites, looking to sign Chris to a massive deal and slowly mold him into a safe, focus-group-tested, mass-audience-apparatus they could milk around the world at massive arenas with $201 ticket prices and $11 Bud Lights. Then something funny happened, he said ‘No.’ Turned down an $8 million contract because he wanted artistic freedom. He would distribute the music on his own. He kept his inner circle tight, toured the world, and made more money in a year than he could comprehend. He was set for life. He could retire in his early 30s, settle into his new biodynamic regenerative farm in the woods with his family, and live happily ever after. Order.

But God had other plans. Chaos. That summer in 2024 another storm hit. Not a metaphorical storm like Rich Men North of Richmond - but an actual storm. Hurricane Helene was a once-in-a-century weather event that decimated Western North Carolina. Massive floods on a scale no one had ever seen. A town where Chris lived and worked, Spruce Pine, had entire streets wiped out. Thousands of homes and businesses swallowed up in moments by the swollen rivers. Hundreds dead. Chris could not just sit back and enjoy his newfound comfort, make a good-faith-online-donation and do nothing else. He headed out to the flood zone immediately. What he witnessed changed him. The government response was a failure. FEMA was paralyzed by rules and regulations that forbade them from taking action, and even worse, they attempted to shut down local volunteers who wanted to help. But God works in mysterious ways.

Order. Eventually, the will of the people found a way around the stubborn refusal of bureaucracy. Military veterans like Justin Neal, acting through private groups like Savage Freedoms, ran life-saving supplies to stranded people on farms and homes. Tech problem solvers like Riley and ‘fanny-pack’ Mike, deployed the resources of Starlink and SpaceX to provide generators and wi-fi hotspots to places without power. Chris saw this and got to know Justin and Riley. An idea he’d long had deep within began to emerge. He saw first-hand how everyday good-hearted people had been the heroes of Helene. The farmers, the veterans, the everyday citizens. Not the government agencies. The people who seek no thanks and get little. The nobodies.

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Chris knew what he must do. Instead of using his talent to make monopolies like Ticketmaster and LiveNation more money, he would use his platform to hold concerts on Main Streets and farms across rural America. Instead of $201 tickets, they’d be affordable, like $30. And it wouldn’t just be music. There would be locally-sourced food, live homestead skill demos, uplifting documentaries and in-person conversations. There’d be preaching of the Gospel and baptisms with Pastor Mike, his hometown pastor. Creation.

He shared the idea with Mark, his manager and longtime music industry leader, who loved it. It was refreshingly different from plug and play operations in big arenas, and Mark, the consummate pro- was ready for a challenge. Brian and Heather, who’d been by Chris’ side through the whole rollercoaster of newfound fame would be the glue: the talent-finding, logo-designing, networking-with-everyone and do-whatever-needed-doing people every thriving team has. Draven would book the musicians, make the films, tell the story. Riley would bring big ideas and press. Justin and his cohort of military veterans would provide security. Graham, that’s me, would host talks about farming, help source local food/apparel for the event and journal the experience. It was an Ocean’s Eleven style team assembled with one goal in mind: Lifting up rural America.

A military veteran is one of 30 people baptized in Spruce Pine.

A couple months later, when it was time to choose the first location for the Rural Revival Project a strange coincidence happened. The couple who had created the biodynamic regenerative farm that Chris and Tiffany had purchased in Virginia, had moved to Spruce Pine. They said they’d help organize the first event. Be the local contact on the ground. Everything came full circle. The Rural Revival Project would lift up the town where Chris had lived and worked, the town that had just been pummeled by Helene. God smiled. The date was set. April 5th.