In the small town of Kirksville, Missouri, where she was born in 1962, Rhonda Vincent found herself one late summer evening on the porch of her family home. The air smelled of cut hay, and the cicadas sang louder than any crowd. She wore a faded denim jacket, her mandolin resting across her lap like an old friend. Her father’s voice echoed in memory as she softly picked a tune they once played together under these very stars. The notes drifted into the twilight, tender and unpolished, carrying laughter, hardship, and love all at once. She closed her eyes, letting the sound blend with the night, a prayer for family and tradition that never left her heart. In that quiet moment, it was clear: Rhonda Vincent doesn’t just sing about roots and resilience — she lives them, turning every note into a promise kept between generations.

ROOTS AND RESILIENCE: Rhonda Vincent’s Music Is a Promise Kept Between Generations In the quiet...