USA Today discovered Floyd in a recent visit while researching a story on The Crooked Road.
You don’t mess with tradition in the green hills and hollows of Southwest Virginia. And judging from Alzora Wood’s steely glare and that 4-foot-long wand she’s wielding, you don’t mess with her, either. Bands take shape on the corner, and a street party atmosphere prevails.
The object of Wood’s evil eye is an overalls-clad man in the back row at the Floyd Country Store Friday Night Jamboree who’s jabbering away as a gospel group performs before a packed audience.
“I don’t like them talkin’ or dancin’ when there’s gospel,” says Wood, stretching the wand from behind the store’s wooden counter to poke the offender’s shoulder.
There’ll be time for that later during the bluegrass performances, when old and young, city and country folk, the rhythmically gifted and challenged, swarm the dance floor and pound out a flat-footin’ beat so fierce that just standing nearby makes the soles of your feet tingle.
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