Country Music

Country Music Hits

Uncategorized

HE WENT FROM ALCOHOLISM AND DRUG ADDICTION TO THE PULPIT — NOW HE’S ON HIS SON’S RADIO CHANNEL. Tommy Wallen spent years lost in alcohol and drugs. No one would’ve guessed that one day, his son would become the biggest name in country music — or that Morgan would hand him a microphone on his own SiriusXM channel. Starting this Father’s Day, June 21, Tommy launches “Tommy’s Sunday Seven” on Morgan Wallen Radio (Channel 64). Seven minutes. Every Sunday morning. Just a former addict, a Bible, and an open heart. But here’s what makes this different from any other faith show — Tommy doesn’t preach at you. He was so deep in hopelessness that the only thing he wants to share is what pulled him back. “We will approach this as if none of us have any knowledge of the Bible,” he said, “so we can begin this journey together.” He already hosts “Family Tradition” on the same channel, sharing stories from Morgan’s childhood. Now Sundays belong to something more personal — the faith that saved Tommy’s life long before his son ever stepped on a stage.

Tommy Wallen’s Quiet Second Act: From Addiction to Faith on Morgan Wallen Radio

For years, Tommy Wallen lived in a place many people never saw. Behind the pain, behind the mistakes, and behind the silence, he was fighting alcoholism and drug addiction. It was a hard season, and it took him far from the man he wanted to be. But life has a way of opening a new door when someone finally chooses to walk toward it.

That door, for Tommy Wallen, led to faith, healing, and now a surprising new role on his son’s SiriusXM channel. Starting this Father’s Day, June 21, Tommy launches “Tommy’s Sunday Seven” on Morgan Wallen Radio on Channel 64. Every Sunday morning, listeners will get seven minutes of reflection, honesty, and scripture from a man who says he is still walking the journey one step at a time.

A Story That Started Long Before the Spotlight

Most people know Morgan Wallen as one of country music’s biggest names. But before the stadiums, the headlines, and the fame, there was a father doing his best to rebuild his life. Tommy Wallen’s story is not polished or perfect. That is exactly why it resonates. He is not presenting himself as someone with all the answers. He is sharing from the place where he once felt most lost.

“We will approach this as if none of us have any knowledge of the Bible,” he said, “so we can begin this journey together.”

That simple approach gives the show its heart. Tommy is not trying to preach from a distance. He is speaking as someone who understands brokenness and what it means to start over. For many listeners, that honesty may matter more than any polished message ever could.

From Family Stories to Sunday Faith

Tommy already hosts “Family Tradition” on the same channel, where he shares memories from Morgan Wallen’s childhood and reflects on family life. It offers listeners a more personal look at the moments that shaped the singer behind the music. But “Tommy’s Sunday Seven” shifts the focus inward. It is not about fame. It is about the faith that helped save Tommy Wallen’s life long before his son became a star.

There is something deeply human about that kind of transformation. A man once defined by addiction is now using his voice for encouragement. A father who once struggled to hold himself together is now on the radio, speaking calmly and openly to people who may be looking for hope of their own.

Why This Matters

What makes Tommy Wallen’s new show stand out is not the platform. It is the perspective. He is not offering dramatic promises or easy answers. He is offering a lived experience, shaped by regret, recovery, and grace. That makes the message feel grounded and real.

For listeners tuning in on Sunday mornings, the show may become a small but meaningful ritual. Seven minutes may not sound like much, but sometimes a few honest words are enough to change the tone of a day.

Tommy Wallen’s journey is a reminder that redemption does not always arrive with a big announcement. Sometimes it comes quietly, in the form of a microphone, a Bible, and a chance to tell the truth. And sometimes, the most powerful voice on the air is not the loudest one, but the one that has already walked through the storm.

 

Related Post

Uncategorized

“NOBODY CHEATED ON NOBODY.” — JELLY ROLL TOLD THOUSANDS OF FANS IN SARATOGA SPRINGS LAST NIGHT. He wasn’t planning to say anything. But after performing “Liar” on his Little ASS Shed Tour in Saratoga Springs, New York, Jelly Roll stopped mid-show and looked out at the crowd. “While we’re talking about liars — the internet is a liar too.” He and Bunnie quietly separated on May 9, and he filed for divorce nine days later. Ten years of marriage. Nobody knew until June 15. But here’s what nobody saw coming — they’re still having a baby together through surrogacy. Divorced, but starting a family. “She will probably be the only woman I’ll ever love the way I loved her,” he said. “Bunnie, I love you, baby. Thank you for those 10 years.” Bunnie later revealed on her Dumb Blonde podcast that a Mother’s Day argument started everything. She told him to file — and he actually did. They settled the whole divorce in about three weeks. Still best friends. Still co-parenting. Still building something together — just not a marriage.

Uncategorized

RALPH STANLEY SHOWED UP 45 MINUTES LATE TO HIS OWN SHOW — AND THOUGHT HE HEARD A GHOST. It was 1970, Fort Gay, West Virginia. Ralph Stanley got a flat tire on the way to a gig and walked into the club nearly an hour late. Inside, he heard the Stanley Brothers playing. But Carter Stanley had been dead since 1966. Two teenagers — Keith Whitley, just 15, and Ricky Skaggs, 16 — had grabbed their instruments and started singing for the restless crowd. Ralph stood there and listened. He later said they “sounded just like me and Carter in the early days.” He hired them both on the spot. But what nobody in that small West Virginia club could’ve known was how this story would end. Keith became lead singer of the Clinch Mountain Boys by 1974. When he sang “Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone” — that old Carter Family hymn — with Ralph, something in his voice felt too real. Too heavy. Like the song wasn’t just a song to him.

Uncategorized

40 UNPAID TICKETS FOR A DOG NAMED BANJO — AND A #1 HIT WAS BORN IN A JAIL CELL. Rodney Crowell refused to put a leash on his dog. He said Banjo was smarter than him — felt wrong making that dog follow orders. So when the cops showed up at his door demanding payment for over 40 violations, Crowell had the money. He just didn’t pay. He told his wife: the cash is in the top drawer. But wait an hour or two before bailing me out. Because he had a song to finish. He lay on that steel rack in the cell, humming lines that started years earlier — back when a Texas highway patrolman pointed a gun at him and his high school football buddies for pulling up stop signs. “You make one move, and you’re a dead man, friend.” That line never left him. Three artists recorded the song before Waylon Jennings touched it in 1979. But Waylon was deep in a cocaine addiction that was eating him alive. He wasn’t just singing “I Ain’t Living Long Like This.” He was living it. It became his 11th number one.

You Missed

Uncategorized

“NOBODY CHEATED ON NOBODY.” — JELLY ROLL TOLD THOUSANDS OF FANS IN SARATOGA SPRINGS LAST NIGHT. He wasn’t planning to say anything. But after performing “Liar” on his Little ASS Shed Tour in Saratoga Springs, New York, Jelly Roll stopped mid-show and looked out at the crowd. “While we’re talking about liars — the internet is a liar too.” He and Bunnie quietly separated on May 9, and he filed for divorce nine days later. Ten years of marriage. Nobody knew until June 15. But here’s what nobody saw coming — they’re still having a baby together through surrogacy. Divorced, but starting a family. “She will probably be the only woman I’ll ever love the way I loved her,” he said. “Bunnie, I love you, baby. Thank you for those 10 years.” Bunnie later revealed on her Dumb Blonde podcast that a Mother’s Day argument started everything. She told him to file — and he actually did. They settled the whole divorce in about three weeks. Still best friends. Still co-parenting. Still building something together — just not a marriage.

Uncategorized

RALPH STANLEY SHOWED UP 45 MINUTES LATE TO HIS OWN SHOW — AND THOUGHT HE HEARD A GHOST. It was 1970, Fort Gay, West Virginia. Ralph Stanley got a flat tire on the way to a gig and walked into the club nearly an hour late. Inside, he heard the Stanley Brothers playing. But Carter Stanley had been dead since 1966. Two teenagers — Keith Whitley, just 15, and Ricky Skaggs, 16 — had grabbed their instruments and started singing for the restless crowd. Ralph stood there and listened. He later said they “sounded just like me and Carter in the early days.” He hired them both on the spot. But what nobody in that small West Virginia club could’ve known was how this story would end. Keith became lead singer of the Clinch Mountain Boys by 1974. When he sang “Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone” — that old Carter Family hymn — with Ralph, something in his voice felt too real. Too heavy. Like the song wasn’t just a song to him.

Uncategorized

HE WENT FROM ALCOHOLISM AND DRUG ADDICTION TO THE PULPIT — NOW HE’S ON HIS SON’S RADIO CHANNEL. Tommy Wallen spent years lost in alcohol and drugs. No one would’ve guessed that one day, his son would become the biggest name in country music — or that Morgan would hand him a microphone on his own SiriusXM channel. Starting this Father’s Day, June 21, Tommy launches “Tommy’s Sunday Seven” on Morgan Wallen Radio (Channel 64). Seven minutes. Every Sunday morning. Just a former addict, a Bible, and an open heart. But here’s what makes this different from any other faith show — Tommy doesn’t preach at you. He was so deep in hopelessness that the only thing he wants to share is what pulled him back. “We will approach this as if none of us have any knowledge of the Bible,” he said, “so we can begin this journey together.” He already hosts “Family Tradition” on the same channel, sharing stories from Morgan’s childhood. Now Sundays belong to something more personal — the faith that saved Tommy’s life long before his son ever stepped on a stage.

Uncategorized

40 UNPAID TICKETS FOR A DOG NAMED BANJO — AND A #1 HIT WAS BORN IN A JAIL CELL. Rodney Crowell refused to put a leash on his dog. He said Banjo was smarter than him — felt wrong making that dog follow orders. So when the cops showed up at his door demanding payment for over 40 violations, Crowell had the money. He just didn’t pay. He told his wife: the cash is in the top drawer. But wait an hour or two before bailing me out. Because he had a song to finish. He lay on that steel rack in the cell, humming lines that started years earlier — back when a Texas highway patrolman pointed a gun at him and his high school football buddies for pulling up stop signs. “You make one move, and you’re a dead man, friend.” That line never left him. Three artists recorded the song before Waylon Jennings touched it in 1979. But Waylon was deep in a cocaine addiction that was eating him alive. He wasn’t just singing “I Ain’t Living Long Like This.” He was living it. It became his 11th number one.