60 Years of Country Music, 12 Minutes, and One Quiet Opening That Said Everything

When the lights went down at the Ford Center in Frisco, Texas, the crowd expected a big opening. After all, the ACM Awards are built for moments that sparkle. But Reba McEntire, hosting the show for the 18th time, chose something more meaningful than spectacle. She walked out and began with “Okie From Muskogee” by Merle Haggard.

It was not the loudest choice, and that was exactly why it mattered.

A Song That Set the Tone

Merle Haggard’s 1969 classic won ACM Song of the Year in 1970, and Reba McEntire’s decision to open with it felt carefully chosen. Reba McEntire is from McAlester, Oklahoma, and that detail gave the performance an extra layer of heart. She was not simply revisiting a well-known country song. She was honoring a fellow Oklahoman who helped shape the sound and spirit of modern country music.

Sometimes the most powerful tribute is the quietest one.

From the first notes, the medley felt like a bridge between generations. The production did not rush to impress. Instead, it invited the audience to remember. That opening song became the emotional doorway to a 12-minute celebration of six decades of ACM Song of the Year winners.

Six Decades in One Medley

After Reba McEntire’s opening, the performance moved through a carefully built chain of country favorites. Clint Black delivered “Rhinestone Cowboy” with the kind of ease that reminded everyone why the song still resonates. Wynonna added warmth and power to “Why Not Me”. LeAnn Rimes brought a clear, tender sound to “Blue”. Then Dan + Shay closed the medley with “Tequila”, giving the tribute a modern finish that still felt connected to the past.

Each artist brought something distinct, but the performance never felt fragmented. It felt like a single story told by different voices. That is what made it memorable.

Why Reba McEntire’s Opening Stood Out

Big award-show moments often depend on volume, speed, or surprise. This one worked because it trusted memory, history, and emotion. Reba McEntire started at the beginning, with a song that many country fans recognized instantly. That choice gave the entire medley a sense of purpose. It said that country music does not begin with the newest hit or the biggest stage effect. It begins with songs that last.

For longtime fans, the opening felt like a salute. For younger viewers, it was a reminder that every era of country music stands on the one before it. In only 12 minutes, the show managed to cover more than a playlist of songs. It captured the feeling of a genre that keeps changing while still honoring where it came from.

A Small Opening With a Lasting Echo

By the end, the audience had seen a tribute, a reunion of voices, and a timeline of country music history. But people kept talking about the beginning. Reba McEntire’s quiet opening with “Okie From Muskogee” gave the whole moment its soul.

Sixty years of country music was a big story. Reba McEntire made it feel personal.

 

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SOME FRIENDSHIPS ARE WRITTEN IN SONGS… BUT ONLY A FEW BECOME FOREVER. There was something truly magical about the friendship between Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton — a bond that went far beyond the stage, the spotlight, and the music. In country music history, few duos ever captured the beauty of genuine connection the way they did. Their voices blended perfectly, but it was their friendship, respect, and love for each other that made every performance unforgettable. In 2013, they gave the world one final reminder of that special bond with “You Can’t Make Old Friends.” Nearly three decades after “Islands in the Stream” became a timeless classic, Kenny and Dolly returned together to create a song that felt less like a performance and more like a heartfelt conversation between two lifelong friends. Now, that song carries an even deeper meaning. Kenny Rogers left us in 2020… and today, the world says goodbye to Dolly Parton — two extraordinary souls who brought warmth, comfort, and joy to millions through their music. They were more than country music legends. They were storytellers, dreamers, and reminders that the greatest treasures in life are the friendships we build along the way. You can create many songs. You can create many memories. But **you can’t make old friends.** Some friendships are too special to disappear. They live forever in the melodies, the memories, and the hearts of everyone who was lucky enough to witness them. Rest peacefully, Kenny. Rest peacefully, Dolly. Thank you for giving us a lifetime of music, love, and unforgettable moments. The harmony you created together will continue to play forever.

Before he ever stepped up to center stage under his own name, Cal Smith spent years standing quietly in the shadows as a sideman, playing guitar behind country legend Ernest Tubb. Born Calvin Shofner in Oklahoma and raised in California, he paid his dues in clubs and on radio before joining the Texas Troubadours in the early 1960s, watching other stars soak up the applause while his own solo ambitions moved at a crawl. By 1972, Smith was well into his late thirties with little more than modest chart placings to show for his efforts. Everything flipped when fellow songwriter Bill Anderson handed him “The Lord Knows I’m Drinking,” a sharp track about a man taking heat from a churchgoer whose own hands weren’t exactly clean. The single struck a nerve, shooting straight to No. 1. The true lightning strike arrived soon after. In December 1973, Smith walked into Bradley’s Barn to lay down Don Wayne’s “Country Bumpkin.” Tracing an ordinary man’s journey through marriage, children, and the devastating loss of his wife, the song packed an entire lifetime into a few poignant verses and climbed to the top of the charts in 1974. The accolades poured in, sweeping Single Record and Song of the Year at the ACM Awards, alongside a CMA Song of the Year honor for the writing. Smith quickly proved he wasn’t a one-hit wonder by following up with another chart-topper, “It’s Time to Pay the Fiddler.” After more than a decade of holding down the rhythm section for everyone else, Cal Smith’s long-delayed moment in the sun finally arrived—forever stamping his voice onto one of the defining country anthems of the 1970s.