(Publisher’s Note: This article initially was published during the pandemic and it’s being shared this evening now that it’s been completed removed.)
It has sat there in his yard along County Road 808 for 19 years after it caught fire in Gettysburg, Pa., and that’s why thousands of country music fans recognize it today because it’s where they purchased their pre-show ice before heading into Jamboree in the Hills.
“Freedom’s Way” once was a fully equipped vehicle owned by Dennis Kirkpatrick and his wife, and they took the bus to Bark Camp a few times before making the 245-mile trek to the historic Civil War battleground. That’s where, on the very first night of their stay, the bus burned because of pinched wires in the kitchen area. A good amount of damage was sustained, Dennis said, but he managed to get the vehicle started, and he and his wife made it home the next day.
“I just didn’t know what I was going to do with it after that,” Dennis said. “But people seemed to get a kick out of it when they would stop for the ice and the trinkets we sold, so we just left it there so it would be something of a landmark for those folks every year.
“Last year, I had three or four groups of seniors from the high schools come up and ask if they could take their senior pictures near it,” he said with a laugh. “I told them it was OK, so that’s what they did. But the bus isn’t going to be there for much longer. A friend of mine asked if he could strip the steel from it to raise some money for a dirt bike for his son, and he got started a couple of months ago, and it shouldn’t take too much longer.”
Kirky’s Concessions
The motorhome wasn’t involved with the annual ice and novelty sales, but it is the bus everyone remembers from their visits to the festival venue that rests along U.S. 40 near Morristown. Not only did hundreds of campers line County Road 808, but the back entrance was used by media members, Jamboree staff, and by the country music stars, too.
For many years, the Jamboree lineup was one big name after another until similar amphitheatres were developed and utilized during the spring, summer, and fall months throughout the country. The impact of those venues changed the music industry, too, but it proved deadly for what once was referred to as the “Super Bowl of Country Music.”
“When the Jamboree was moved over here from the Alderman’s, it was in 1990, and people were asking us if we had any ice,” Kirkpatrick recalled. “The next year we contacted two or three local ice dealers and one of them wanted to see where we were going to sell it. So, he came to see where we live, and he looked up and down the road, and he asked, ‘Isn’t the Jamboree on the other side of the interstate?’ And I said, “yeah.’
“He laughed, and he told me that we couldn’t give ice away over here,” he said. “Let’s just say that we sold a lot of ice. So we did that, and we parked cars in our yard, and we had a tent that we set up where we sold some things. The Jamboree people didn’t like it that we were selling stuff, but then they finally gave up and left us alone.”
A Family Reunion
For about a decade before Live Nation pulled the plug on the Jamboree tradition in 2018, the event lost a lot of luster because the schedule featured few superstars and a bevy of no-name beginners. It was about economics, the corporation explained when attempting to ban coolers a few times, but the pushback was always powerful.
“Over the last five or six years, you could tell that it was gradually declining, and the crowd changed to a different type of crowd,” Kirkpatrick said. “When they announced it was over, I know we weren’t surprised by it. You could just tell that what they had changed for the worse.
“When they first moved over to this location, the Jamboree people would give everyone along this road two free tickets for the show,” he remembered. “The last few years they made us buy a ticket to get one free even though we’re the ones who had to deal with the traffic for those two weeks. We may see 15 or 20 cars a day along this road, but during those weeks it was at least hundreds if not more because so many people had to go in there using this way.”
The Kirkpatricks saw the writing on the wall.
“We were only allowed to let a few campers on our property because of the health department’s regulations, and we had the same people year after year,” Kirkpatrick said. “Those folks only saw each other once a year, but they had become friends, and this was their reunion each year. And those folks had a blast.
“But then some of them stopped coming because they said it wasn’t worth it anymore, and I think they found another festival or something to go to instead of here,” he said. “It was sad not to see them anymore, but we knew it wasn’t our fault.”
Disappearing Act
Little by little, piece by piece, “Freedom’s Way” is vanishing.
The motorhome was named after Kirkpatrick’s Freedom Excavation company, a small, private operation that is based out of his Belmont County home. Within a few months, though, that burned bus will be gone.
“I know my friend has been working on it, but now with the holidays I’m not sure when he’s coming back,” Kirkpatrick said. “But it’s time for it to disappear, and this way the money from the steel will go toward a good thing. I’m willing to bet it will only take a couple of days to cut it up and haul the bigger pieces out of here.
“That bus was super nice when we bought it off a local guy, and he had driven it out to California a couple of times and had no issues. But after the fire, it was disheartening because my wife and I were really looking forward to taking it on a lot of trips,” he said. “He had some guys that worked for him put it together just like one of those Bluebird motorhomes, and it was beautiful. It really was.”
But will the Kirkpatricks miss it once it’s gone?
“I don’t know if we will because of what happened to it, but we’ve had a lot of people tell us over the years that they always look for the bus when they drive by,” Dennis said. “And then with the kids coming out for their senior pictures, I think there’s going to be a lot of people who are going to be disappointed when it’s gone here shortly.
“No one has ever said anything negative about the bus, but it’s time,” he added. “But, like I said, at least it’s going away will go toward something really nice because my friend said his son has wanted that dirt bike for a lot of years.”