It's difficult to explain why they come, or the farm's rustic appeal. The Rudds' faded red farmhouse is a simple place that sits between two large hills. During the day, puffs of smoke appear to rise from the distant Appalachian hillsides, but then you realize the gray is nothing more than bare branches set against brown earth. On narrow Cassel Run Road, visitors are greeted by hand-lettered signs and old barns and animals. The road is so rural, so lonely, that the only sound is the howling wind and a white and tan cat crying for its dinner.
Concrete steps lead up the steep hillside to reveal biblical scenes and messages.
Family gospel music echoes into nowhere. I love that. I remember one time when we had a busload of blind people here. They got to talking, and it really got to me. I wondered how they could appreciate the place.