This Community Voices column is written by Cody Pelle, a marketing and copywriting professional who has a knack for telling stories that bring us back to the nostalgic days of Northern Kentucky’s past. Have an idea for him? Email Cody at codympelle@gmail.com.
I spent every Sunday morning of my childhood in a small Baptist church in Alexandria.
Between Sunday services, Wednesday night youth group, and countless weekend trips, it was more or less my home away from home. There was so much I loved about the place, but one thing I could never get into was the music. It just never moved me the way other music did.
For the longest time, I thought something was wrong with me. I carried that strange feeling into adolescence, and only by growing in my faith did I come to the conclusion I hold now: if you can find God in something, the rest will take care of itself.
In those adolescent years, one of my best pals in the world was Mason Neltner. If you’re a native Northern Kentuckian, you likely recognize that last name for the farm his family owns in Camp Springs. He would work part-time there during school, and every year in the heart of harvest season, they would hold the Neltner family pig roast. In the fall of my Sophomore year at Campbell County, I got the invite.
Everything about the pig roast was intoxicating. Camping out in the field, being amongst a fantastic family in the Neltners, and the best pulled pork you could ever taste. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but the first beer I ever drank was lifted from one of the coolers that night. The biggest thing I took from that night was the music. Hearing bluegrass played live was like discovering a new color. Hymns I had known as dry and stale were bursting at the seams with flavor.
The spring I turned 21 was the year that Keith Neltner turned the Camp Springs Tavern across the street from the farm into my all-time favorite bar (with the exception of Pelle’s Cafe for obvious and biased reasons). He took a relatively standard country tavern and injected it with a level of soul I’ve not seen anywhere else. From walls covered with art installations and family photos to the sense of community formed by the Camp Springs faithful.
At the heart of that community is music. So naturally, the tavern became the space for neighborhood pickers to congregate and make magic on their guitars and banjos in the truest Kentucky fashion. Over time, they formalized their gatherings to take place on Thursday nights. Once I caught wind, I was there as often as possible. Drowning in the hum of bluegrass standards like In The Pines and I’ll Fly Away gives me the sacred peace and comfort that others find in a pew on Sunday mornings.
My wife and I hold the place so dearly that when we were looking for a place to get married, we didn’t have to think hard. We were wed in the same field I camped out in all those years ago. My groomsmen and I raised a toast of Blantons in the same barn that we once snagged those Miller Lites. And Kat and her bridesmaids got ready for the big day upstairs at the tavern. We wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Today, the tavern is owned and operated by Tyler Shelton. A great friend who fully understands what makes the space special. He has expertly continued the traditions that set them above all others in my estimation. If you find yourself with a free Thursday night on the calendar, stop in and help yourself to a slice of God’s gift to Kentucky.
If you have an idea for a Community Voices column, email Meghan Goth at mgoth@linknky.com.
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