The Letters
Trisha requested to see the letters Billy and I exchanged in regards to the drama at the Hoedown and the last four years. Since he received my letter before I got his, here is mine:
Billy,
I had to write this as a letter because I would have ended up a bumbling, crying mess had I tried to tell you in person or on the phone. These past view weeks have been about me closing chapters in my life so that I can start new ones. By far the hardest thing to say goodbye to is the Hoedown.
I know Trisha told you about the drama surrounding my leaving. I absolutely hate the way things ended. I sincerely thought no one cared about the predicament in which Scott placed me. Since I am not writing to complain, I’ll spare you the whole story again. I was hurt and angry which initially made the process of leaving so much easier, but now that everything has calmed down, I can say what I need to say.
I cannot begin to thank you for all that you have given and taught me. Among other things, I learned how tough and nasty working in the music industry could be. I learned that no matter what role or instrument a person may play, they are still human beings. Some may think that those lessons are negative, but after paying thousands of dollars to listen to Belmont professors, I have realized that I learned the most important lessons from my time at your theater. This industry is a sacrifice. It will kick you when you are down, but if you love the roar of a crowd or the laughter of an audience, it is worth every drop of sweat and tears. I have seen so many kids come to Belmont with a happy dream in their head and stars in their eyes, only to have those ideals crushed by the reality. You gave me a safety net to learn this on my own. I was able to figure out if this really was my passion. I have been tested, stressed, and tried. I believe my level head and work ethic can be traced back to my days at the Hoedown. You did me the greatest favor in the world: you prepared me for Nashville.
I want you to know that I will never forget what you have done for me. You will be a part of each of my successes. I know that I would be where I am at today if it were not for you. I know I am one of the many fortunate young people you have given a chance to prove their potential, and I am eternally grateful for that opportunity.
Before I left Jason told me “Dawn, you can leave, but you will always be a Smoocher.” He’s right. Everywhere I go, I will carry a piece of the Hoedown with me. Most of the frames in my apartment are filled with pictures of all the incredible people I have met through you. What you have created is something amazing. I’m not only referring to the show, but also the family of which you are the epicenter. You are one of the greatest people I know.
I will try to stop in and visit whenever I can. I just started a job at the Grand Ole Opry. I work in the non-glamorous retail shop, but then again, I did start out in your concession stand. Who knows where this could lead. I am taking more than a full course load of 18 hours and working in the library. I am also continuing with the CMA this semester. I am planning on going to New York for the awards show in November. My schedule is insanely full. I’m not anticipating a trip home until Christmas, but I hope to see you then. Can’t miss the Christmas in the Hills Show!
No matter when I see you next, I just want you to know that from the great memories to the second family I now have, I will always cherish you and these incredible past four years.
OOH-WEEs & Love!
The Dawnster
About a week later I received this letter, addressed to Katrina Dawnster Fisher. Included was a $100 check and the picture taken my very first day working exclusively for the theater.
Hope you didn't cry like my mother and I did.
Billy,
I had to write this as a letter because I would have ended up a bumbling, crying mess had I tried to tell you in person or on the phone. These past view weeks have been about me closing chapters in my life so that I can start new ones. By far the hardest thing to say goodbye to is the Hoedown.
I know Trisha told you about the drama surrounding my leaving. I absolutely hate the way things ended. I sincerely thought no one cared about the predicament in which Scott placed me. Since I am not writing to complain, I’ll spare you the whole story again. I was hurt and angry which initially made the process of leaving so much easier, but now that everything has calmed down, I can say what I need to say.
I cannot begin to thank you for all that you have given and taught me. Among other things, I learned how tough and nasty working in the music industry could be. I learned that no matter what role or instrument a person may play, they are still human beings. Some may think that those lessons are negative, but after paying thousands of dollars to listen to Belmont professors, I have realized that I learned the most important lessons from my time at your theater. This industry is a sacrifice. It will kick you when you are down, but if you love the roar of a crowd or the laughter of an audience, it is worth every drop of sweat and tears. I have seen so many kids come to Belmont with a happy dream in their head and stars in their eyes, only to have those ideals crushed by the reality. You gave me a safety net to learn this on my own. I was able to figure out if this really was my passion. I have been tested, stressed, and tried. I believe my level head and work ethic can be traced back to my days at the Hoedown. You did me the greatest favor in the world: you prepared me for Nashville.
I want you to know that I will never forget what you have done for me. You will be a part of each of my successes. I know that I would be where I am at today if it were not for you. I know I am one of the many fortunate young people you have given a chance to prove their potential, and I am eternally grateful for that opportunity.
Before I left Jason told me “Dawn, you can leave, but you will always be a Smoocher.” He’s right. Everywhere I go, I will carry a piece of the Hoedown with me. Most of the frames in my apartment are filled with pictures of all the incredible people I have met through you. What you have created is something amazing. I’m not only referring to the show, but also the family of which you are the epicenter. You are one of the greatest people I know.
I will try to stop in and visit whenever I can. I just started a job at the Grand Ole Opry. I work in the non-glamorous retail shop, but then again, I did start out in your concession stand. Who knows where this could lead. I am taking more than a full course load of 18 hours and working in the library. I am also continuing with the CMA this semester. I am planning on going to New York for the awards show in November. My schedule is insanely full. I’m not anticipating a trip home until Christmas, but I hope to see you then. Can’t miss the Christmas in the Hills Show!
No matter when I see you next, I just want you to know that from the great memories to the second family I now have, I will always cherish you and these incredible past four years.
OOH-WEEs & Love!
The Dawnster
About a week later I received this letter, addressed to Katrina Dawnster Fisher. Included was a $100 check and the picture taken my very first day working exclusively for the theater.
Hope you didn't cry like my mother and I did.