A ctually, it was not an entire weekend, but it was a Friday evening and most of Saturday. Before any wild rumors begin to circulate, we did not actually spend the weekend in a cave. We only spent two hours in a cave, but that was not in Horse Cave. Yes, there is a cave there named Horse Cave, but we never saw it. We spent two hours on that Friday afternoon touring a small portion of the largest cave in the nation, some say in the world, but that’s another story for another writing…perhaps next week.
Jean and I spent part of those two days in the town of Horse Cave, which is named after the cave. Thoroughly confused? There is a cave named Horse Cave and it is located in a town that is now called Horse Cave. Which one came first? The chicken, excuse me, I mean the cave. The town was named for the cave. Horse Cave, Kentucky, is a wonderful little town of around 2200 residents. It is located in Central Kentucky’s Hart County. There is also a church there named Horse Cave Baptist Church. Now, we are getting to the reason we went there in the first place. My main purpose there was to do a program of stories and songs as Bro. Billy Bob. My friend and fellow Rainsville native, Lynn Traylor, leads Liberty Association of Baptist there. He invited me to come do a program for their senior adults from across their association. Horse Cave Baptist Church hosted the event.
It took us the better part of two days to get there from Opelika. Part of that is because The Cigar Box Guitar Store is located in Huntsville, Alabama. It is the only store in the world dedicated solely to cigar box instruments. It is on the way to Horse City…somewhat. Since I am now building and playing cigar box guitars and dulcimers, well, of course, I had to make the slight detour to see this wondrous place. I was not disappointed. No, they don’t sell cigars, just instruments and amplifiers made from empty cigar boxes. I purchased some parts and the smallest, cutest, little amplifier I’ve ever seen.
Jean and I had the privilege of staying in a beautiful old bed-and-breakfast, that was not really a bed- and-breakfast. Our host, Ms. Debbie, is the Senior Adult leader at the church. She and her late husband bought the beautiful early 20th-Century, two-story wooden house, with the intent of converting it into a bed-and-breakfast. Unfortunately, he became ill and passed away before they completed their transformation. Ms. Debbie not only provided us a bed, bathroom, and breakfast, but she also served us a huge, delicious dinner, as well. For dessert, she served us pieces of Mississippi Mud Cake about the size of Mississippi. To walk all that off, we strolled downtown to an auction. In the excitement of bidding on items that we didn’t need, we spent the grand total of $7.70. Oh, don’t be fooled. We walked out with a box full of goodies and a half-dozen antique wooden yardsticks. I wish I had kept on bidding on the old classical guitar and gourd-shaped mandolin.
So, how did they land on the name Horse Cave? Some say Native Americans, and possible outlaws too, hid their horses in the cave. Others say a horse accidently fell into the cave by stepping on one of the openings. We had a big time in a small town with an unusual name, with a warm church, and a gracious host at the B&B that wasn’t actually a B&B. It was more!
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