A long history of Mat-Su bluegrass may be coming to an end

June 3, 2005

LYNSEA GARRISON /Frontiersman reporter

MAT-SU - Thirteen years ago, Ken Terry, a musician from Anchorage, went into the backwoods of Hunter Creek, an area of land Mat-Su resident Bill Foster owned.

Terry went with one thing on his mind: To start a bluegrass festival on Foster's land.

"I explained to Mr. Foster what this music was all about and that I wanted to use his land, and he said it sounded like a good idea," Terry said.

Terry, Foster and some other musicians and friends set to work to build a stage out of cottonwood slabs. After two years of work, the finished product was a small stage trimmed in bark that stood proudly against a backdrop of Alaskan wilderness.

Since then, the stage has been home to about 600 performances and the annual three-day Hunter Creek Bluegrass Festival.

But the stage has probably had musicians play on its floors for the last time. The Hunter Creek Bluegrass Festival may end because Foster died last year and Terry and Jim Fissori, who joined Terry five years ago in a partnership, have decided to retire from putting on the festival.

"We just have several issues here," Fissori said. "For health reasons we've decided to stop. I mean, it's killing us and we don't get a lot of volunteers to help with the festival."

Terry and Fissori said the festival won't continue unless someone else "picks it up."

"It's been a long run; a long history," Fissori said.

In the first years of the Hunter Creek Bluegrass Festival, Terry brought up well-known bluegrass bands and musicians from outside Alaska, including John McEuen , co-founder of The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, the Doug Dillard Band, Seamus Kennedy and Steve Kaufman, three-time winner of the National Flatpicking Championship.

"After doing that for awhile, we got to the point that we were losing money, so I had to tone down the expenses," Terry said. "No more outside bands."

The festival ran smoothly until three years ago, when the Mat-Su Borough passed an ordinance that said event organizers or owners of land holding public gatherings of more than 500 people had to have a $25,000 bond.

The Alaska State Fairgrounds, though, were exempt from the ordinance, so Terry and Fissori rented the fairgrounds for a year to avoid the cost of the bond.

"It was very costly and not as many people came," Fissori said. "It was difficult."

His wife smiled. "Yeah, but I liked the flush toilets for a change," she said.

Terry and Fissori rented the fairgrounds for one year, but decided no more than 500 people came to the festival anyway and it would be less expensive to have the Hunter Creek Bluegrass Festival back home at Hunter Creek.

"We finally came back and had a sunny weekend," Fissori said. "Everyone enjoyed themselves."

This year's Hunter Creek Bluegrass Festival was also a hit, as about 400 people attended the event and about 30 bands performed well into the nights.

Musicians and fans played music until sunrise and told stories around a campfire while children danced to the music and played together. There was even a hamburger stand, glass-blowing artists, New Orleans Cajun Cookies for sale and a blue and white bus selling iced coffees, smoothies and other refreshments on the scene.

Barb Chambers, a resident of Anchorage who attended the event, said the festival is a tradition for her and her 8-year-old daughter.

"We come to this festival and camp almost every year," she said. "My daughter loves the music and the kids. I plan on coming back if they have another one."

Terry said that over the years, the festival has evolved into a family event.

"It's become a family festival geared toward musicians," he said. "And the musicians are what makes this a nice festival. They are a talented and creative bunch. There's just not as many of these (bluegrass festivals) left."

Fissori agreed. "It is about the musicians," he said. "It's for these musicians to go out there and play with the locals and for the locals to play with them. It's about walking around the campfires and listening to music. We close the stage at midnight or 1, and people will pick around until 6 in the morning. You just don't sleep at a festival."

Terry nodded. "It's the picking until sunrise and story swapping that makes this," he said. "You know, if we were stamp collectors, we would go to conventions to see each other, but we're musicians and this is what keeps drawing us back here."

Fissori couldn't recall any memory that stuck out from over the years. "There were so many good times," he said. "Even the bad times got to be good times because of the people."

Mandolin player Nile Hamaker, a friend of Fissori and Terry's, also couldn't think of a most memorable time. "It's hard to pick one," he said. "Every minute has been rich, every minute."

Lynsea Garrison may be reached at 352-2250.