Book Excerpt: 'Coming Home to Myself'

Sept. 30, 2005 — -- In her new book, "Coming Home to Myself," country music star Wynonna Judd recounts her triumphs and heartbreaks as she skyrocketed to fame from poverty. She also writes about her relationship with her little sister, actress Ashley Judd.

Wynonna and her mother, Naomi Judd, debuted as a mother-daughter singing duo, The Judds, in 1984 when Wynonna was only 18. That year they received their first Grammy award for Best Country Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal. In 1992, Wynonna signed her first solo record deal.

Below is an excerpt from the book.

Chapter Two: What the World Needs Now Is Love

"We'll be river rats!" Dad said, excitedly, pulling his MG convertibleup to the little house.That's what the city folks called people wholived along the Kentucky River, river rats. It was winter, and bitterlycold.The place Dad rented was named CampWig. It was located between a cowpasture and a concrete block church where the congregation often sang andpraised all night long.

It was an unheated summer fishing retreat, so he purchased one of thoseblack coal-and-wood-burning stoves, and put up sheets of metallic protectorson the kitchen wall to keep the house from catching fire. We all took turns wakingup through the night and keep adding wood. If Mom and Dad were gone,it was my job to keep the home fires burning. We wore clothes on top of clothesand rubbed our hands a lot. Mom, Ashley and I often slept together under pilesof blankets, quilts and coats. Our pipes froze a lot in the winter, so we alwaysseemed to be out of water.

We had to get up early at Camp Wig. Mom left before dawn for her nursingclasses, driving her red VW through the back roads to the ferry across the river,and finally to the highway bound for Richmond, Kentucky. Ashley and I got upbefore dawn, too. We'd warm ourselves by the wood-burning stove each morning.I have vivid memories of standing and looking out the window, watchingMom bust up coal outside the kitchen door at five a.m. to warm us all up forbreakfast. Afterward, Ashley and I would walk up the long driveway to the mainroad to catch the school bus. It was over an hour's ride to town.

The small village around Camp Wig was poverty-stricken. Many of theother river rats lived without electricity or plumbing. A few of my friends usedcoffee cans for toilets. Some families lived up to eight in a three-room shack, curtains hung across the room to separate the kitchen from the sleeping areas.Many of the children had never been out of the county.

Yet with all that poverty, these people were the friendliest you could imagine.They were family out there. It reminds me of a story I was told about awoman who was asked which she thought would be worse, to be too rich or toopoor. She thought about it and said, "Too rich, because being too rich can belonely. If you're poor, you may not have much but at least you know who yourfriends are."

As spring replaced winter, Ashley and I discovered the real magic of CampWig. We fell asleep each night to the sounds of crickets and frogs, and awakenedeach morning to the birds singing. Flowers bloomed, and finally that summer,the blackberries ripened! Dad, Ashley and I would pick the berries, then siton the back porch and eat them until our faces were stained blue-black. CampWig was where I came to love the four seasons. There was always something tolook forward to, even if you did have to put up with frozen pipes.

Our house was so far off the beaten path that there were days that we neversaw a single soul or made it into a town. We seldom ate in restaurants or went tomovies. But Dad was happier than I'd ever seen him, and it made me happy justto see him content. He'd run a trot fishing line across the river and bait twentyor more hooks to catch fish. At night Ashley and I swam out to check them.He'd watch as we'd swing from vines into the river. We'd take bars of soap andgo out in the huge front yard that filled with water in places during a thunderstormand take baths. Sometimes we'd play in the rain. I find myself going outinto the rain with my children, just to feel that same joy from such a wonderfultime in my life.

There was something about living at Camp Wig that was defining for me. Asharsh as the conditions were at times, it was also peaceful. We had very little, butwe relied on one another. It felt natural for me to be there. The lifestyle was simpleand the people were real. We had lots of gatherings with neighbors wherepeople played musical instruments and sang. Dad loved the Stones, WarrenZevon and Frank Zappa, so this was where I developed a real passion for rock'n' roll. I also discovered my first "(s)hero," Joni Mitchell. Mom, Dad, Ashleyand I were together. And we were family.

We were happy until an unusually wet season upped the ante for living alongthe river. Camp Wig flooded and kept right on flooding until almost all of ourbelongings were ruined. Mamaw and Papaw Ciminella were never happy aboutus living along the river anyway. After the worst of the floods, they drove out oftento try and convince Dad that it was no place to raise children. By that time,Mom and Dad agreed.

Dad finally moved back to town, and Ashley and I stayed with him until wefinished school. Mom – in true Judd fashion – grew restless, packed up andwent searching for a new adventure. She had moved to a little one-room bungalowin nearby Berea, Kentucky. The town is home to Berea College, where low incomestudents can work their way through school using their talents doingvarious jobs in the community. The entire area reflects an artisan spirit, withhomage paid to its Appalachian roots. Berea is filled with arts and crafts storesand classes everywhere, as well as some of the most beautiful handiwork inAmerica. There is a hotel called Boone Tavern that is run by students in theheart of the town. When Ashley and I were with Mom, and Mamaw and PapawCiminella came to visit, they stayed at Boone Tavern and took us to eat in therestaurant.

The day our lives changed – at least for a while – started out with another ofthose hard Kentucky rains. Ashley and I were in Berea visiting Mom, and wewere driving home from the grocery store in the pouring rain. Mom was havinga difficult time seeing the road, when she suddenly slammed on the brakes. Despitethe downpour, we could see that an elderly woman had slipped off of thecurb, and fallen into the street.

"We almost hit that woman!" Mom shouted as she jumped from the car.

Mom rushed over to help her up. We got the woman into our car, and rushedher to the hospital's emergency room. We stayed at the hospital with the woman,Caroline Hovey, waiting for her husband, a professor at Berea College, to arrive.Once Mr. Hovey got to the hospital and his wife was being treated, Mom introducedus, and explained that she was a nursing student at Eastern Kentucky, andthat the three of us were in Berea looking for a place to live. Because of Mom'skind deed, the Hoveys called a professor at Berea College, Margaret Allen, andtold her about a single mother with two children who needed an affordableplace to live.

Margaret Allen called and said she wanted to meet with us at her home inMorrill, a forty-five-minute drive from Berea. Even though we'd lived along theriver and seen poverty up close, we were unprepared for the sight when weturned off the main highway and on to the long gravel road leading to Mrs.Allen's. We passed old outbuildings and run-down trailers with farm animalsrunning loose. Malnourished dogs with their ribs showing were tied up to oldtires. There were junked cars on cinder blocks.

"Mom, are we lost?" I asked.

"No," Mom answered with a frown. "This is the road."

I looked at Ashley and shrugged. Surely a professor at Berea College didn'tlive here.

Then suddenly, the gravel road ended and there was a huge red gate. It wasopen, as if we were expected. So we entered the property and drove up the pavedroad. It was like a scene from a movie. There on a hill sat a lovely, cared-forhouse as different from what we'd just driven by as could be. Mrs. Allen cameout and greeted us.

"Welcome to Chanticleer," she said with a big smile.

Her estate had two homes: Windswept, where she lived, and the house shecalled Chanticleer, named after one of her favorite children's stories. Mrs. Allenexplained that she was a music teacher, and along with the two homes, she hadcabins on the property, where students stayed each year for her music camps.Chanticleer was magical! It was completely furnished, with beautiful hardwoodfloors and hand-hooked rugs throughout. We each got our own bedroom,with a handmade quilt on every bed. Most of the furniture was antique, and allthe furnishings seemed to match. In the kitchen, beautiful china filled theknotty pine cabinets. In the living room there was a Steinway piano beside thehuge picture window overlooking the front porch. There were apple trees in thefront yard, and berry bushes in back. When Mrs. Allen offered to rent Chanticleerto us for a hundred dollars a month, Mom could barely speak.

That summer we raised a garden and Mom taught Ashley and me how tocan. Those are things I promise that I will make time to do with my own children.Chanticleer was where my lifelong love for animals began. We had kittens beingborn in the barn and homeless dogs wandering into our lives. I learned how toshear sheep, spin the yarn and weave tapestries on a loom. There was no televisionand no telephone. We relied entirely on our own creativity for entertainment.I loved to visit my best friend, Ramona Van Winkle, down the road. We'dgo to the main road and sing Loretta Lynn songs at the top of our lungs topassing motorists. This was my first experience singing as a duo. I guess I was intraining and didn't realize it!

If Camp Wig had opened my heart to nature, it was Chanticleer that openedmy soul to music. It was during this time that I discovered the guitar. Someonehad given one to Mom as a going-away gift when she left California. Dad hadalready shown me a few chords on his guitar, so that was enough to inspire me.I started singing and playing around the house. I'd sit on the porch and practicefor hours. And so my life as an artist began.

Dad's love of music and my desire to play was one of the first true connectionsI felt with him. He often brought his leatherwork to Berea's art fairs, andI'd stay with him in a tent while he sold his wares. We'd sell by day, play and listento music by night. It's one of my happiest memories! The big tents, thelights, the people singing and playing – it was there that I discovered jammingwith other musicians. I began to play by ear. The guitar became an appendage. Itwas the first time I remember feeling as though I had a purpose in life.

Mrs. Allen started giving me piano lessons that summer. The lessons taughtme discipline, but while I liked the piano, I was more drawn to the guitar. Still,Mrs. Allen had faith in me and even allowed me to attend her music camp freeof charge. It is one of the most magical memories of my life. Mrs. Allen was sogifted. She taught us about the passion of music, the rise and fall of notes. Shewas the first person to show me the difference between playing technically andplaying from the heart. She had such a musical style, and such a big heart. (Thecamp took in children from all walks of life.) At the end of music camp, thestudents always put on a show on her elaborate patio. That year it was "Porgy &Bess." It was my first performance. A milestone!

I was starting to get really excited. Music was becoming more than aninterest – it became my passion. By the end of the summer it was just that guitarand me. I'm glad I wasn't a Top 40 kid. It was because we shopped in usedrecord stores that I discovered Rounder Records, and the label's great collectionof authentic music. I also discovered Emmylou Harris, Doc Watson, RalphStanley, Merle Haggard, Bill Monroe, Dolly Parton and Hazel and Alice – theBoswell Sisters. I got hooked on hillbilly music – bluegrass and the old mountainfolk songs. By the end of summer I was addicted to the way that Doc Watsonplayed the guitar. I started to learn the autoharp, and when my Uncle Mark,Mom's brother, brought me a banjo, I started learning to finger pick.

Mom loved the way Hazel and Alice harmonized and started trying to workup harmonies to my lead. Even though she had never done that before, it somehowfelt natural there in the mountains, with so many singers, writers and musiciansaround.

One of my great influences was the Yancey family, Minnie and her fourchildren. Minnie is the one who taught Mom to make lye soap, which wouldlater cause television host Ralph Emery to start calling us the Soap Sisters. TheYanceys were like family to us. Minnie's daughter Sonja Bird sang and playeddulcimer as well as guitar. Sonja Bird was very important in my own musicaljourney, since she was my first real guitar and vocal teacher.

The Yanceys lived in Berea, which Mom thought had the best school in thearea, so we enrolled there. She drove Ashley and me into town each morning tothe Yancey house so that we could catch a ride to school with Minnie's sons,Toddie and Garrett. We had to get up very early to be in the car by five a.m. I rememberonce, when I woke up to use the bathroom at about two a.m., I wentahead and got dressed for school.

After school I'd walk to the Berea College Student Center to hustle pool.I became a pretty sharp pool player, so I ended up winning money most days.Then I'd take my winnings to Mama Mia's and play pinball for hours, justkilling time before Mom got out of nursing school and came to pick us up atthe Yancey house. I wore the same sort of clothes every day: blue jean overalls, flannel shirts and hiking boots. All I cared about was music, pool and pinball.

I could have lived at Chanticleer forever. But Mom, being the gypsy she is,decided to move us back to California and continue nursing school at the Collegeof Marin, north of San Francisco. She packed us up in a U-Haul and offwe went. Uncle Mark came along to help. I was terribly sad to be leaving a lifethat had meant so much to me, to leave a place that had nurtured me and inspiredme to begin taking the first steps on my journey as an artist. Living onthat mountaintop gave me a sense of self and purpose that I don't think I'd hadbefore. We had little financially, but a wealth of joy and a connection to theearth, to one another.

Since we didn't have much money for the trip back to California, we tookalong a mattress for Uncle Mark to sleep on when we stopped at motels for thenight. Ashley and I rode in the back of the U-Haul with the furniture. Momrigged the sliding door so it would stay open just a little and we'd have freshair. Deeply unhappy and left to my own devices, I acted out. Ashley was lyingdown on the mattress when I jumped off of the chest of drawers and on top ofher. I held her down and pinned her so she couldn't get up. Then I licked herface until she peed her pants.

When Ashley finally got away from me, she jerked off her T-shirt andfrantically waved it out the back, hoping somebody would see it and save her.Suddenly I heard a siren. We pulled off to the side of the road. The back ofthe U-Haul was rolled open and there stood a highway patrolman next toMom and Uncle Mark. The cop chewed out Mom for putting us in the backof the U-Haul. Mom chewed me out for taking out my frustration on my sister,and Uncle Mark spanked me in the bathroom of a truck stop. I'll neverforget that feeling of humiliation. I worshipped my Uncle Mark.

When we got to Marin County, we moved into a small one-bedroom apartment.Mom put the mattress on the floor in the corner of the living room, andshe and Ashley slept there. I got the one bedroom. Mom worked as a waitresswhile attending school, and also as a private nurse for an older man namedSkipper, who lived next door. He adopted us as his only family, and helpedMom out financially to pay some of our bills. What a change in environment!From Chanticleer to that small apartment next door to a bar.

Between school and jobs, Mom worked all day and most of the night.There's a scene in Ashley's first major movie, "Ruby in Paradise," where her characterhas tried and tried to find work. She gets turned down during all her job interviewsand ends up working in a Laundromat. I remember seeing that film withMom, and watching her weep as she sat in the theater.

Mom drove by an Arabian horse farm every day when she went to work as awaitress at a restaurant named Rancho Nicasio in Nicasio, California. She saysthat she was concerned that I take on more responsibilities, so she got me a jobcleaning tack a couple of days a week, after school. I rode my bike to and frommy job. I was fourteen, and didn't mind the hard work because I got to be withhorses and out in the open. The barn had a radio that played country musicconstantly and I found myself listening to it. Soon I was singing along, memorizingevery song I heard. Merle Haggard became one of my favorites.

Mom picked me up one day when I'd finished mucking stalls, and I immediatelytuned to KNEW radio. They were giving away tickets:

"KNEW is bringing you Merle Haggard and the Strangers, live and inconcert at Oakland Coliseum! Be caller number ten and be a winner!"

I wasn't caller number ten.

"Mom, if I save the money for the tickets, would you take me?" I asked.

"Sure," she said. Mom loved Merle's music, too.

On the day of the show, we left Ashley at a friend's house, and off we went,country music blaring all the way. When we pulled into the parking lot, Momjust leaned out, smiled and asked to park in the backstage area, where all thebuses and trucks parked. It was so like Mom to park in back, right next to thetour buses. Mom was so beautiful that she always seemed to get a backstage passwhenever she needed it. Plus, back in those days, they didn't have the security issuesthey have today. Just as we pulled up next to Merle Haggard's bus, he wascoming out to walk his little dog, Tuffy.

"Well, hello," Merle Haggard said. I was in awe!

What he must have thought of Mom and me! We wore our best dresses, mein lace anklets, Mom in seamed hose. Mom was such a hottie and she had thatSouthern accent! She must have made quite an impression on Merle because heimmediately invited us to come on his Silver Eagle.

Getting on that tour bus was a defining moment, my first taste of a star'sworld. That bus seemed to me like the mobile home of life. It had the leatherseats, the kitchenette. I could see myself on this bus! I could picture myself drivingdown the highway on my way to the next show. I was ready to hit the road.Merle invited us to watch the show from the side of the stage. What I remembermost is the audience's reaction when the lights came down. And when Isaw Merle's band in matching stage outfits, that, too, was a defining moment. Icould visualize myself on that stage with my own band.

When Merle invited us to go on the road with him for a few days, Momdidn't hesitate. We just left the car right there in the parking lot and we leftwith him. Merle introduced me to his sons, Noel and Marty. I got such a crushon Noel! After a few days, Mom and I flew home. I was heartbroken whenNoel kissed me goodbye. It was back to reality and that crummy apartment inLagunitas.

That road trip was the beginning of our adventure of going backstage atconcerts. It became Mom's hobby. We heard Emmylou Harris and met heropening act, Ricky Skaggs. We went to a Dolly Parton show, and I was mesmerizedby her opening act, Doc Watson. I was also into Huey Lewis and the News,as well as the Little River Band, BIG time. I discovered Tower of Power, and itwas because of them that years later I added a horn section to my band when Itoured. I was in love with Doc Kupka's showmanship.

Mom began to play harmonica and we started jamming some with localmusicians. And although I didn't understand it at the time, the duo that wouldlater be The Judds was being born. She started thinking that maybe – justmaybe – we could put together a family act. After the divorce, Mom had goneback to her maiden name, Judd. Now she changed her first name from Diana toNaomi. She was determined to reinvent herself and a name change was a start.She bought a '57 candy apple red Chevy with "Red-Hot" on the license plate.She always said she felt like she was at the front of the parade when she drove it.And that is a little like I always felt, that Ashley and I followed along in Mom'sparade.

Mom and I started singing together in small area clubs. We sang at RanchoNicasio with a group called Susie McKee and the Cowpokes. We did charityevents. We sang in church. We recorded a few songs at a local studio that afriend of Mom's owned. And we invested in a reel-to-reel recording machine, amixing board and a couple of microphones.

In 1978, Mom decided that it was time to get serious. After a trip back toKentucky for Christmas, Mom packed up again, and headed back to Austin,Texas. This time, I went with her. Ashley stayed in Kentucky.

In Austin, Mom started dating the harmonica player from Asleep at theWheel. We hung out with Jimmie Vaughn and the guys in the FabulousThunderbirds. It's funny. I didn't have any idea who Stevie Ray Vaughn waswhen I first heard him jam in the kitchen of one of the band members. I justthought they were all great guitar players.

While we were in Austin I decided to change my name, just as Mom haddone. I did it for the same reason Mom had – to create a new identity. I was followingMom's lead and looking for something entirely new. Ray Benson, thelead singer of Asleep at the Wheel, chose my name from one of their songs,"Route 66." The line goes: ". . . don't forget Winonna." I could change the "i" toa "y" – Christina Claire Ciminella becomes Wynonna Ellen Judd. I took the"Ellen" because it's Mom's middle name. I just remember thinking that withNaomi, Wynonna sounded better than Christina.

Wynonna and Naomi were beginning to be an act.

I felt like I was playing a part in a movie! I started pulling my hair back withrhinestone barrettes, and wearing mascara and bloodred lipstick – very forties. Ina way I was mimicking Jimmie Vaughn's girlfriend, who I thought was the bomb.She wore bright red lipstick and mascara, too. I was fourteen years old, on theroad and caught up in a fantasy world of being part of the backstage scene.I loved the music, but sometimes the boys who hung out with bands mademe uncomfortable. The guys were much older. I was always the youngest one inthe room, and it would be many years before I felt comfortable around guys.However, I did learn early how to fit in in a man's world. I had to come upwith a lot of clever anecdotes and comebacks. I learned about jockeying for positionand holding my own. I found a way to survive. The blessing was that thisexperience on the road prepared me for what was to come. The burden was thatI should have been at home going to school, hanging out with high schoolfriends and cruising the town square on Friday nights.

That I should have been in school, studying, having a normal life – that's allhindsight. Back then, the fact that I was missing school didn't concern me. I wasliving in my own fantasy world. I put feelings of school and home behind me.There was no turning back. I was ready to go out on tour!

Mom had wanted "something more" since she was a child, and was so caughtup in her fantasies that she really had little choice. She had to follow her dreams.She was starting to write songs, and to sing harmonies. Still, I can imagine leavingAshley behind to pursue music then, and later when we had a record deal, wassomething that continued to haunt her. Mom has said that the fact that Ashleywas with Nana was comforting, and very helpful in easing the pain of the separation.But Ashley had to have felt on some deep level that she was abandoned.

Mom and I were starting to make music together, and I think Ashley sometimesfelt that she was in the way. I have such clear memories of Ashley coming intoMom's room to say something when we were practicing our music, and Momholding up her hand to stop her from interrupting.

"What do you want?"

Ashley would silently turn and leave the room. She definitely was not gettingwhat she needed. I've often said that parents too often want their children to fitinto their agendas. It doesn't mean that they don't love their children or makethem terrible parents, but it can't do a child a lot of good to know that she has tobe the one who fits in. Ashley fit in by turning inside, by being quiet and self-sufficient.She created her own reality to survive, discovering that she could travel anywhere in the universe when she read books. Her imagination and ability to survive on her own has made her the champion that she is today.

I know I took up a lot of the energy in our family dynamic. When we reallygot serious about music, I was a young teen, desperate for Mom's approval. Ihad music fever. For so many years, Ashley was there for us, and I still grieve becauseI was so caught up in my own success. I was trying to live up to expectations,to keep it together, and didn't take the time to nurture my relationshipwith my only sister. If I attend an awards show or something that is Ashley'sevent, I try to walk behind her so I don't crowd her light. I feel it's necessary tocelebrate her – it's Ashley's turn.

After a few months in Texas, our journey took us back to California. Once in LosAngeles, Mom bought us matching letter jackets with Hillbilly Women embroideredon the front and our names on the back. "The Judds" were already being promoted.It was just that nobody but us knew it. We were having our own party andit was just a matter of time before more people wanted an invitation!

It was through my curiosity about Hollywood and superstars like John Travoltathat Mom met the man who would become the great love of her life. I wassitting in a back booth, waiting on Mom to finish her shift at the Howard Johnson'sin Studio City, where she worked as a waitress, when in walked a very recognizablecountry music star – Mickey Gilley. His entourage sat down at oneof Mom's tables. She told Mickey all about "The Judds – Hillbilly Women" – and he seemed nice. So when they called me to come meet him, I didn't hesitateto ask about one of my favorite stars.

"What's John Travolta like?" I asked.

"Would you like to meet him?" Mickey responded.

I couldn't believe it. I'd recently seen "Urban Cowboy" and loved John Travolta!

Of course I'd like to meet him!

"I'm going to be on Merv Griffin today, and John's supposed to stop by. Wantto come along?"

Did the pipes break at Camp Wig? Of course I wanted to come along! It just meant convincing Mom, who didn't think our clothes were nice enough to go to a televisionstudio. Only after I threatened to never clean my room again in my life didshe agree. Off we went, following Mickey's limo in our Chevy, heading to theNBC Studios in Burbank. Mom spent her time talking to Mickey, while I patrolledthe backstage area in search of John Travolta. He never showed. Instead,we were introduced to Sly Stallone's brother, Frank. Nothing against Frank, butI was very disappointed!

After the show Mickey took us out for Chinese food, then on to thePalomino Club, where J. D. Sumner and the Stamps Quartet were playing. Thatwas exciting, because J. D. Sumner and the Stamps' amazing harmonies were famousfor having backed Elvis Presley.

Mom didn't get to spend any time with the band's bass singer that night buthe made quite an impression on her. Larry Strickland would become a majorfigure in our lives, bringing us food when we were down and out in Nashville,giving Mom some of her best and worst times, and managing me when I wentsolo. He would become my Pop.

We continued going back to the Palomino Club and even entered one oftheir talent contests. We didn't win, but we did meet the man who was responsiblefor our decision to move to Nashville. Jeff Thornton was a Nashville promoterworking on a television project and he offered Mom a job. So in Marchof 1979, despite the fact that Ashley was missing us more and more, and theCiminellas were infuriated that I wasn't in school, off we headed to Las Vegas,where Jeff's company was deep in production of a Lola Falana special. Since wewere "with the band," so to speak, we were put up in a suite at the Aladdin Hotel.I spent my time playing guitar in the suite, playing pinball in the employeecafeteria in the afternoon, and roller-skating on the weekends. Nights I went tothe Aladdin's showroom to hear Loretta Lynn.

I was instantly in love with Loretta. I think I connected to her because shereminded me of my people in Kentucky. And I loved the way she dressed – I hadnever seen so many ruffles in my life! There was nobody like her. Also, Lorettahad backup singers – something I'd never seen before! It fascinated me. One ofher backup singers was a beautiful black man with a powerful bass voice thatresonated with every fiber of my being. It's like when a tuning fork is struck andeverything in the room in the same key vibrates. That's how I felt. I was vibratingto his voice. He soon learned that I was a fan, and took Mom and me tochurch there in Las Vegas. It was my introduction to an all-black church and itprofoundly influenced my music and my life. I also was impressed with theGatlin Brothers show, because of their blood harmonies.

It was because of women like Loretta – and Dolly Parton and TammyWynette – that I dedicated my life to music. You couldn't have forced me intoany other profession, even though I did learn quickly how fast you can go froma suite at the Aladdin to the streets of L.A, because the trip to Las Vegas endedabruptly.

"Pack your bags!" Mom said, rushing into the room.

I put down my guitar and stared at her.

"Jeff's project is history!"

"So?" It still hadn't hit home.

"We're in this suite because of Jeff's show! If the show doesn't go on, we mayhave to pay our bill!"

That hit home. The show tickets. The room service. The suite! We threw our clothes in bags like we were crazy women, and maybe we were! Down the back stairs of the Aladdin we ran, out the back and into the red Chevy. I felt likeTatum O'Neal on the lam in "Paper Moon." Mom and me, sneaking out the back ofthe Aladdin one step ahead of management.

Mom said all was not lost, though. Jeff was still optimistic about our career,and promised to help relocate us to Nashville, which was where he said we'd haveto be if we wanted a career in country music. Mom and I returned to Los Angelesfor a very short time, staying with our dear friends Nancy and GabrieleBalaz, then soon heading to Nashville. We lived in a motel until Mom got onher feet and could bring Ashley to Tennessee. Then we moved to an old houseon Del Rio Pike, just outside of Franklin. The place needed a lot of work, butMom did her best to fix it up. She's always had a gift for taking old used thingsand making them look new again.

Mom went to work in Jeff's office. She continued to plan and organize.When she wasn't writing scripts to pitch to production companies or coming upwith ideas for the Country Music Foundation, she was talking to people aboutfilming artists singing their hits, a precursor to the video.

As it turned out, one of the first acts Jeff signed back in Nashville was J. D.Sumner and the Stamps. Within days of their meeting, Larry Strickland andMom began a whirlwind romance that continues today. It must have been providencethat Jeff signed J. D. Sumner and the Stamps so soon after Mom startedworking there, because she started nursing as soon as she got her Tennessee credentialsin the mail!

Mom said it was love at first sight. From the time they went on their firstdate, they were inseparable. The only problem was, Larry's connection to Elvishad helped create quite a mystique around him. He sang with "The King" from1974 until Elvis' death in 1977. Larry even had clothes in boxes under the bedthat Elvis had given him when he gained weight! Larry had been on the road foryears, and had developed quite a fan club among the girls. It almost drove Mominsane, but they were addicted to each other.

Ashley and I soon began to call him Pop. There was always a real sweetnessto Pop, but it was like he was two people. At home he was a family man. Thenhe would put on those gold chains, unbutton his shirt and climb into hisCorvette to go to Music Row in Nashville. I was fascinated by the dueling per sonalities. He'd come home and hang his stage clothes in the closet, and he was Pop again. He formed his own band, Memphis, and when he parked his tourbus in the drive, I'd sit on it for hours and fantasize about being on tour.

Life with Mom and Pop was always either really good or really bad. Therewas no in-between. He'd come home from the road and they'd fight; then Momwould throw him out. She'd pack all his stuff, and I'd sometimes help Pop carryhis suitcases to the car. He'd leave. Eventually she'd let him come back, and we'dresume family life as if nothing had ever happened. One night Mom got madand pulled her .38 special on Pop. She fired about four inches above his head,and from that night on, when we ate dinner, I'd stare at that bullet hole in thewindow and be reminded that things could always change quickly. I guess that'swhen I started becoming secure with insecurity.

I started high school, a semester behind, at Franklin High. Starting late and livingso far out in the country left me feeling somewhat disconnected from thekids at school. I looked older than most of the girls, and I never wore jeans toschool. My clothes were often Mom's forties-style dresses, hair was pulled backwith combs, and wedge shoes with ankle straps and anklet socks. On the firstday I arrived, some students thought I was a teacher.

When I enrolled, I put my name down as "Wynonna" even though I wassure it was illegal! I didn't think you could just "decide" to change your name!(As it turned out, I was right. I legally changed my name when I was eighteenand we got a record deal!)

I often drove the red '57 Chevy to school. Some of the kids started callingme "Hollywood" because, they said, I looked like a movie star. I liked having myown style, but I still wanted to fit in so badly. I didn't have much in commonwith the popular middle-class kids with nice clothes and parents with money. Ifelt that I could relate more to the misfits. Some of my friends were kids who'dbeen excluded from the popular cliques. Yet I went to most of the parties. Ithink part of it was the fact that people wanted to ride in Mom's car! I also becamethe designated driver, since I didn't drink back then. I wasn't a Goody Twoshoes.I just liked helping people out.

One of the times I went out to a party turned into a nightmare. I had goneto a country music club with a girlfriend who met an older guy who invited usto a party at someone's house. The guy had a friend. I was going to get into a carwith two strangers – not one of my best decisions. But because of my girlfriend,I went along with her plan.

Once inside the party, I realized that I had forgotten my purse and wentback out to the car to get it. One of the boys followed me. What a gentleman, Ithought. But the minute we got to the car, he shoved me into the backseat, got inand locked the door. Then he held me down, and started taking off his belt. Hepressed his hand over my mouth so hard that my braces cut the whole inside ofmy mouth. When he demanded oral sex and I declined, he slugged me.

I agreed to do whatever he wanted; then, when he calmed down and wasoff his guard, I punched him in the face as hard as I could. I shoved the driver'sseat forward, unlocked the door and opened it. Thank God the car wasold and the locks were manual. I ran inside, got my girlfriend, and we calledthe police. By the time a patrol car arrived, the two boys we'd come to theparty with had already left, so nobody was arrested. The police drove us backto my girlfriend's car. It was a terrible experience that could have been muchworse.

Because of experiences like this one, I was a late bloomer. I was a senior inhigh school before I had my first real boyfriend. His name was Stephen Mc-Cord, and I met him at a party at a friend's house.

We couldn't have been more different. He liked the all-American blond babetypes, and I was a redhead with a guitar. He wore blue jeans and T-shirts, anddrove a truck. I wore dresses and heels, and drove a '57 Chevy. He drank beer,smoked cigarettes and liked to party. I liked to hang out, listen to music andpractice my guitar.

I'd been around enough beer and cigarettes when Mom and I were hangingout with musicians in Austin. I didn't think it was so cool. I guess hanging outwith older people who partied a lot allowed me to see the reality of what drugsand alcohol do to people. The biggest change I saw alcohol make in those musicianshad to do with the way they treated women. (And I'm certainly not talkingabout all of them!) Some guys were gentlemen until about the third beer;then they would come on to anyone – even an underage girl like me. It seemedto me that "alcohol" promoted "disrespect."

I made a decision when I was a teenager that cigarette smoke would damage my voice, and I was not going to allow that to happen. I challenged Stephen onenight when we were sitting at a stoplight, telling him to put out the cigarette orI'd walk home. He did put that one out, but he didn't stop smoking.Stephen was one of the best-looking guys at Franklin High School. He waspure Southern good ole boy – ran with the popular crowd, had the body of aGreek god, was a bit of a hell-raiser, yet loved his mama and went to churchwith her every Sunday. He treated her with respect.

Stephen's mother was one of the most important influences in my teenagelife. I'm not sure who I was more in love with, Stephen or his family, so much sothat when Stephen and I finally broke up I felt like I lost five people instead ofone. The very first time I met Mrs. McCord, I was enthralled with her faith anddedication to her family. Her husband and children meant everything to her – she lives for them. (I wanted her to be my mom!) I did feel like I was a part ofthe family. I went fishing with Stephen and his dad. Mr. McCord was a real"man's man." He was always working on his boat, wearing his signature ball cap.

I loved the fact that the McCord home had "Mom and Dad" recliningchairs. I loved the fact that Mrs. McCord baked and canned and served up supperevery Sunday after church. She prepared great feasts of roast beef, mashedpotatoes and gravy, corn, green beans, homegrown tomatoes, cornbread andlemon ice box pie. The whole family ate together, and they stayed together.The McCord house was full of love and laughter. Everywhere you lookedthere were reminders that they were believers. There were calendars with dailywords of encouragement, little boxes with pages of Scripture for each day of theyear. Mrs. McCord's Bible was always on the dining room table, where she satevery single morning to have her devotional time. I had never witnessed someonewho had daily devotionals, who had a Bible with so many notes on eachpage. She even had a prayer list with names written on it, people she believedneeded her prayers. She had Guidepost magazines – a kind of Christian Reader'sDigest – in the bathroom. This was all new to me.

Mrs. McCord was always spreading the faith! Yet she was one of the firsthighly religious people I ever met who didn't preach. Her way was to teach. Andshe did it with a smile on her face. She knew that her husband and her son bothdrank. She made them keep liquor in the garage. But while she didn't like themdrinking it, she didn't give them a hard time. Her attitude was "I'm just going to hoe my own row." She is the woman who taught me about grace and forgiveness.She definitely had a light. I think she knew that her prayers covered everyone soshe became a prayer warrior for all of us.

Stephen was wild as a buck, but he had a good heart. He was sweet, one ofthe good guys. He was never disrespectful to me on any level. He had a good,solid family foundation, and you could feel it in everything he did. I was madlyin love with him and his family. I thought that I would marry him one day – itwas all worked out in my mind.

Although he was the first love of my life, our relationship remained chastefor a long time. Usually the most we ever did was sit on the love seat and putour arms around each other. That's about as intimate as we were for a long,long time.

One night Stephen and I did go up to his bedroom, where the door was supposedto be open at all times. This time we closed it without thinking. Then wefell asleep on top of the covers on his bed. When Mrs. McCord walked in theroom, she did what a lot of mothers would do – she assumed a lot. She woke usup and asked me to leave. I was mortified. I knew that I had really crossed theline. I went home and wrote her a long letter, explaining what had – and hadnot – happened. After she read it, she asked us to meet with her.

"We have rules," she said. "I can't have you two up in Stephen's room withthe door closed. But I believe Wynonna when she says nothing happened betweenthe two of you, and I believe you can be trusted to act responsibly. I loveyou both, and want the best for you."

I was stunned. Instead of busting in the door and screaming that we wereheaded straight to hell, she set a boundary, and talked to us about being responsibleto ourselves. I'd never had such a loving talk when I had made a mistake.There was no shame or guilt. Just love. Mrs. McCord still drops me a note fromtime to time or sends me a card on my birthday. I will always remember her andbe thankful that she was such a blessing to me at a time when I needed one. Andto this day, when I drive by their street on Sundays, I have the urge to stop byand ask, "What's for supper?"

I fell in love with another family, and that, too, was tied to food! DollyGillespie was the daughter of a wealthy family. Her dad was a builder, and theylived in a big, beautiful home. As it was with Stephen McCord, Dolly and Icould not have been more different. She wore designer jeans and ostrich boots.She had spiked hair and wore several earrings in each ear. She smoked andcussed. She was a rebel, and my best friend.

Dolly had a fake ID, which I thought rocked! We'd go to clubs in Nashville todance to punk rock music. She liked me because I was quirky, and I liked tocruise with her. I liked going to her house because her mom was always home. Iwas fed such wonderful dinners at Dolly's house! The refrigerator was alwaysfull and Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie were always cooking.

I think Dolly liked coming to my house because she was fascinated with ourlifestyle. (It sure wasn't because the refrigerator was always full!) But whereasDolly's mom represented "home," my mom represented "hip." Actually, a lot ofkids liked coming to our house. The boys thought Mom was a real babe! Andour house had a creative, funky vibe. The kitchen had a tiny refrigerator with afreezer that had room for just two ice trays and one package of food. We had anantique pie safe. Our stove was old, with one of those big drawers in the bottomto store your pots and pans in.

Because our refrigerator was one of those small old-fashioned ones with apull-down handle, I had to shop for food every day or so. Over time, I figuredout a way to pocket some extra spending money for the weekend. On Fridays I'dreturn boxed and canned goods to the Franklin Kroger and get the cash refund.The folks there knew me well. So well, as it turned out, that when I was bustedfor grand-theft lipstick, they called me by name.

One night, while shopping, I decided I wanted some lipstick. Since I didn'thave the money, I stuck a tube of pink and a tube of red into my pocket. I guessI thought I needed both colors to go with my wardrobe. I paid for the groceries,and as I walked back out to the car, an undercover security guard approached me."Hey, Miss Judd. I need to talk to you for a minute."

I felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest.

He took me back inside and walked upstairs to the office, where I signedwhat I guess was a police report or admission of guilt. I was so horrified andscared I don't remember all the details. Then I was taken to the WilliamsonCounty jail, where they called my mom. She wanted to teach me a lesson, andleft me there. Mom must have been scared to death for me, worried somethingvery serious was going wrong with her daughter.

Franklin is a small town. As it turned out, the guy who signed me in at thejail was my school bus driver. Actually, I had never been able to get away withmuch while I was growing up. The first time I skipped school I even got caught!

Ask my mother.

I sat there traumatized for what seemed like forever. They assigned me acounselor and put me on probation for six months. I had to check in once aweek, and looking back on it now, I realize that it was a lifesaver. Shopliftingwas an obvious call for help, and I'm sorry to say that I'd taken some things beforethat. I think part of it was because we never had the money to buy thingslike some of my friends.

The counselor quickly saw how conflicted I was. I wanted a career, andwanted out of school to pursue it. I took musician magazines to school and hidthem behind my books in class. I wanted a band! Instead I had chores and theresponsibility for Ashley. I've seen my counselor, Betsy Jewel, several times sinceI made it in country music. The first time we met after I was an adult was sucha strange moment for me, talking to her about that dark time in my youth. Shesaid she knew I was a good kid all along.

I wanted so badly to be a good kid. But I also wanted to be independent ofMom. Maybe shoplifting was my way of breaking out. I hadn't been ready forthe role of being in charge of so much, so young. I remember day in and day outputting my chores off on Ashley while I sat in my room and listened to music.My fantasy was that I'd go on the road with Bonnie Raitt. I was R.T.G. – readyto go! But my reality was that my mom was a single parent working double shiftsat the hospital. That left me in charge of my little sister.

I often stood in the gap between Mom and Ashley. I not only was requiredto do a lot for Mom, I was also expected to be there for Ashley. I became her"Sister-Mommy." I drove her everywhere. At times I was all she had, when I'msure she would have preferred Mom.

Sometimes I still drive by the house on Del Rio Pike, pull in our old driveand sit there. It was the last place where I was as connected to my sister. SometimesI cry. Sometimes I laugh. What memories! Sometimes I can still hear theeighties rock 'n' roll blasting from that old house, the place I sometimes calledAshley's Party Palace.

All her friends liked coming to our house because we had no neighbors, andthey wouldn't get caught if they drank beer. I never did figure out how, if twentykids were invited, fifty would know to show up. Ashley would wait until Momhad to work a double shift at the hospital, then put the word out. She had a lotof guts! For a long time she got away with it, and I helped her! I lived vicariouslythrough my sister and her popularity.

Unfortunately for Ashley, we took some photos at one of the parties, anddropped them off at the local Moto Photo. Mom stopped by and a clerk gaveMom our photos in addition to her own. That was the end of Ashley's gatheringsfor quite a while. I'd give anything to go back and watch my funny, smart,popular little sister holding court at the Party Palace. Yet at the time when Iwent out on the road, I didn't think much about what it might do to her. I wastoo caught up in my own world.

We were forced to be together so much as children that I longed to get away.Now I long to have my sister to myself like I did back then. Besides my husbandand children, my love for Ashley is the deepest I've ever experienced. I have thistender, sweet place in my heart that is reserved for her. I have so much respectfor her in what she went through, and how she survived it. She thrived and flourishedin spite of all she had to endure. Mom raised two high-spirited daughtersunder tough circumstances.

I wrote a song for Ashley, called "You Are." It's not just about her physicalbeauty, but the freedom and beauty of her spirit. Someday I hope to write thesong for her, a song that celebrates how I feel about the two of us growing uptogether. I don't care how rich and famous she becomes – she'll always be mybaby sister. I'm amazed that people still ask me if there was competition betweenus. It's all I can do not to choke them. I am very protective of our relationship.My music success is sometimes bittersweet. I've been blessed with a life fullof excitement. I've traveled the world. But I also know that success is what tookme away from the sister that I love so dearly.