Chris Wilson

  The gunmetal gray clouds hung low over Broadway, as if the Devil himself had come to take stock of what was happening on Music Row. It was Wednesday and in the heart of the Bible Belt, it was the perfect night for a midweek revival service in the Neon Steeple at Chiefs. Smoke, from the burnt offering on the altar of Rodney Scott’s BBQ, filled the early afternoon air. While the threat of rain and the quickly dropping temps would’ve served as a deterrent to venture out on most nights, this wasn’t most nights. This was one of a select few nights where, weather be damned, the faithful were going to gather. The stained-glass, lit from the inside, cast a soft welcoming glow on the wet pavement as it marked the destination of the pilgrims headed down Broadway. Each window served as silent and vibrant reminder of the saints and sinners who’d come before and were in some way responsible for what was about to take place. Legends of country music from bygone eras and sports legends with the...