GALAX, Va. — Ellie Massey, 13, stands inside a giant, yellow tent with dozens of other contestants and practices singing the gospel tune, "I'll Fly Away." Her grandfather, Jim Coleman, and uncle, Jacob, accompany her on guitar and mandolin.

Massey, who has the number 22 pinned to her shirt, is among 120 people waiting to go on stage for the Folk Song competition here at the Old Fiddler's Convention. Her family has driven more than 300 miles from East Central Ohio to support her.

"I love singing. I love dancing. I just love Bluegrass," says Massey, who adds that most of her friends back home prefer pop and rock. Some make fun of her musical tastes.

"I don't get mad or anything," Massey says matter-of-factly.

The convention, which runs for six days every August, is celebrating its 89th year, making it the oldest continuous Bluegrass and "Old Time" music festival in the U.S. Mostly amateurs come to compete. The event draws about 30,000 musicians, singers and fans along with hundreds of RVs that cram the city park here in the mountains.

The convention is run by the local Moose Lodge. Daily tickets cost $10 to $15. People set up their folding chairs in front of the outdoor stage and watch musicians compete on banjo, dobro, dulcimer, guitar and auto-harp.

"This is like the World Series of fiddler's conventions," says Trevor McKenzie, who runs the Center for Appalachian Studies at Appalachian State University in Boone, N.C. "This is the place that's seen as very much the heart of this music."

Old Time is fast-paced dance music that stretches back hundreds of years and includes instruments from different cultures, says McKenzie. White settlers brought the fiddle from Europe. The banjo is associated with enslaved people and descends from West African string instruments. Another tradition, Flat-foot dancing, echoes some native American traditions, McKenzie says.

"You talk about America as a melting pot, there's a fire up under that melting pot and so it's not always been the most comfortable history," says McKenzie. "But this is a positive, this is the stew that comes out of it."

The Old Fiddler's Convention, however, faces challenges. Audience and participation numbers are still below pre-pandemic levels. Some older musicians have passed away and there is competition from other festivals.

"We're trying to keep Old Time and Bluegrass music . . . going, keeping it alive," says Tom Jones, 81, the convention's publicity chairman.

One way to do that is developing young performers like Massey. The convention features a youth competition which drew more than 100 kids aged 7 to 15. But the real action lies beyond the stage, beneath the tents pitched between RVs where old friends and bands jam for hours.

Raistlin Brabson works in electronic maintenance about an hour-and-a-half away and plays the fiddle for fun. Today, he's picking up a new tune – an Old Time song called Shootin' Creek – from guitarist Shay Garriock, a violin maker who has a store in Raleigh, N.C.

"I really like Shay's playing," says Brabson. "I'll . . . usually just think of a song and then bother him at one of these conventions to learn."

Fiddling runs in Brabson's blood. The fiddle resting on his shoulder belonged to his great, great grandfather and dates to around 1900.

"I knew about your great granddad before I ever met you," says Garriock, who says he first heard Brabson's ancestor play on a record called Blue Ridge Barn Dance. "When I figured out you were his great-grandson, I thought that was really cool."

As the men continue to play, Margo MacSweeney, 15, steps onto a piece of plywood and begins to Flatfoot dance. She kicks up her heels and occasionally slides from side to side.

"It's a little bit different from clogging," explains MacSweeney. "It's like smaller steps, lower to the ground."

MacSweeney learned to dance an hour's drive away at the Floyd Country Store, which hosts a Friday night jamboree. Robyn Reitz, MacSweeney's mom, credits her daughter's first banjo teacher with giving her an appreciation for mountain music.

"He cares so much for the children . . . and passing on the tradition, so it doesn't die, and we're not all just staring at our cell phones," says Reitz as her daughter continues to dance to the rhythm of the fiddle and guitar. "It's just so beautiful."

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