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I’ve always been fascinated by the Domino Effect—the idea that one small event can trigger a chain of unexpected consequences. This episode’s Noted Stories is a perfect example. The first domino fell in the spring of 1973 when I ran into my longtime mentor, artist (and church deacon) Max McWhorter, during Spring Break. When he asked about my summer plans, I told him I’d probably return to Opryland, where I had worked the previous year. Max introduced me to Stephen Kling, a talented caricature artist at the park. Stephen encouraged me to apply, and I was hired as a caricature artist the following summer.

That became the second domino.

At Opryland I met fellow caricature artist and musician Michael Copas—the third domino. When Opryland later changed its caricature operation, Copas and I left for Gatlinburg and Stephen returned to New York. At a local watering hole in downtown Gatlinburg, we ran into Teresa, an old schoolmate of Copas, who introduced us to fiddle player Michael Thornburgh and thus, Teresa and Thornburgh became the fourth and fifth dominoes. Then Copas, Thornburgh and I eventually found a $15-a-month farmhouse (and the sixth domino) in Wear’s Valley. The farmhouse had no running water, no bathroom and no heat, but it became the center of an unforgettable summer of music, songwriting and friendship.

Inspired by the mountains and by Stephen Vincent Benét’s "The Mountain Whippoorwill," I wrote “Henry Able.” This was soon followed by this episode's second song, “Roundtop Mountain Farm,” written about the farm and farmhouse where we were living.

Then Stephen Kling returned, and he and I were hired as a “journalism team” by Tim Pollitt at the Sevier County Times—the seventh domino. I wrote stories and drew editorial cartoons and Stephen took photographs and developed and printed pictures for the cover of the paper and the inside articles.

For an “ad trade-out” with the local AM radio station, I wrote a 60-second country song/jingle for and about the Sevier County Times (naturally called "Sevier County Times") that Stephen and I recorded with some musician friends at nearby Carson-Newman. The station played it until they began receiving too many requests for it and it. Now, 51 years later, it's the third song in this episode.

Looking back, it’s amazing how that one conversation with Max led to Opryland, Kling, Copas, Thornburgh, the farmhouse, the newspaper—and eventually a career in New York City (which will be covered in a subsequent Noted Stories episode). I've always been in awe of the Domino Effect and how it affected my life and music—it just illustrates that sometimes the smallest encounters can change the course of everything that follows.

© 2026 David Ray Skinner/Electric Quilt Music, BMI

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During my first week at college, I met Paul Dunlap when he wandered into my dorm room while I was playing guitar. We quickly discovered that our voices blended well. A few nights later, Filmore Strunk heard us singing, added a perfect third harmony, and just like that, the three of us had something special.

The next day, a freshman coordinator asked if my new band would perform in the freshman talent show. When she asked our name, I happened to read the warning on a can of shaving cream I was holding: "Contents Under Pressure." She loved it, and the name stuck.

The band soon became known for its harmonies and eclectic repertoire. After Dan Schlafer joined us, we expanded to four-part harmony, and I began writing original story songs for the group. This episode of “Noted Stories” includes three of the songs I wrote for Contents Under Pressure.

The first song, "In About 50 Years," was a cautionary tale I wrote in 1971. More than fifty years later, I'm still amazed by how relevant it feels. The second, "One Sunday Morning," imagined soldiers arresting a pastor, “Brother Jim,” during a church service. After one performance, a man insisted Russian soldiers would never be able to invade American churches. I replied, "That's why they're not Russian soldiers—they're American." Recently, I shared the song with the real Brother Jim Henry, who laughed and said, "That was kind of prophetic, wasn't it?"

Unfortunately, the band dissolved before we could perform another new song I'd written, "Uncle Anthony," about an aging rock guitarist still playing more than fifty years in the future. Back then it was science fiction. Today, it feels surprisingly close to home.

© 2026 David Ray Skinner/Electric Quilt Music, BMI

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This week's episode features one true-story song and two tall tales—you can decide which one stretches the truth the most.

The true story, "Nashville Summer Evenings," recalls my childhood in postwar Nashville. My parents, both World War II veterans, made sure my sister and I never forgot our Tennessee farming roots. Weekend trips to visit our grandparents, listening to the Grand Ole Opry on WSM, and exploring an abandoned railroad bed behind our house became memories that inspired the song years later.

The first tall tale, "Dottie's Come Back Home," grew out of my Baptist upbringing. Because we were always in church, I missed many classic TV shows—including The Wizard of Oz. When I finally saw it in college, I interpreted it as an unlikely allegory for the 1960s counterculture and turned that idea into a calypso song.

The final song, "UFO at the VBS," imagines a 1950s Vacation Bible School interrupted by visitors from another world. Inspired by a sermon about how churches might respond to the discovery of extraterrestrial life, it's a humorous reminder that sometimes the most unbelievable stories ask the biggest questions.

© 2026 David Ray Skinner/Electric Quilt Music, BMI

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This week's Noted Stories features two songs inspired by one remarkable trip to California in 1975.

While exploring San Francisco, I unexpectedly witnessed Sara Jane Moore's encounter with President Gerald Ford—an experience that inspired “Sara Jane.”

Just days earlier, I had visited Berkeley on the very day Patty Hearst was captured. There I met a young man who invited me to a church gathering I never attended. Three years later, I learned what happened to him and his church and that’s what inspired “The Eucalyptus Trees.”

Two chance encounters. Two unforgettable stories. Two songs that could only have been written by someone who was there.

© 2026 David Ray Skinner/Electric Quilt Music, BMI

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Welcome to the first episode of Noted Stories. I'm David Ray Skinner, and for more than fifty years I've written songs inspired by real people, real events, and real life. This podcast shares the stories behind those songs.

The first song is "Robin." As a teenager, I read about sixteen-year-old Robin Lee Graham, who sailed alone around the world. Years later, while in college, I rediscovered his story in an old National Geographic magazine and wrote a song about his remarkable journey—and about every young person searching for purpose and direction. That song became a staple of my performances for years.

The second story comes from an unexpected meeting at a small East Tennessee gas station. An elderly man noticed my college bumper sticker and told my roommate and me that he had left school during World War II because "they needed physicists." Then he quietly said, "I worked on the bomb at Oak Ridge."

Before he drove away, he said something I've never forgotten: "All of us from that group are either sick, dead, or insane."

That brief encounter stayed with me for years and eventually became the song "The Boys from Oak Ridge."

© 2026 David Ray Skinner/Electric Quilt Music, BMI