(upbeat folk music) ♪ Back roads and byways ♪ ♪ Campfires, we'll lie awake ♪ ♪ Sweetgrass and summer sage ♪ ♪ Come on baby, come and take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand, take my hand ♪ ♪ We're Dakota bound ♪ - Join us on the road as we tour around the great state of South Dakota, sharing stories and songs.

(birds chirping) (soft music) This historic Episcopal Church rises up from a lonely depression between Buttes to the West and downhill slopes to fire steel Creek in the East on ranch land that is now very sparsely populated.

Constructed in 1923 with sandstone quarried by local congregants from the Buttes surrounding nearby fire steel Creek, this building is situated on the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation in Corson County.

The structure is a rare example of stone, late-19th-century, Gothic revival architecture in South Dakota.

One of two chapels designed by prominent architect Alfred Morton Givens, an alum of the coal the boat are that stands on tribal lands in South Dakota.

The companion church is Holy Cross on Pine Ridge.

The idea for these stone chapels originated in 1922 when the New York-based society of the Double Crossed asked Givens to design them as a memorial to one of their members, Mrs. George Cabot Ward, who had passed away.

Mrs. Ward was a longtime friend and supporter of Bishop Hobart Hare of South Dakota, the originator of the Niobrara Cross, which is the chapel's most prominent feature.

Of the two, Holy Spirit more resembles its original state.

Construction at Holy Spirit was supervised by Frank Wagner of Keldron.

The chapel has been listed on the National Register of Historic Places as representative work of a master architect.

The design is deceptively Spartan, dominated by the bas relief Niobrara Cross, emblazoned on the front facade.

But it stands today as a testament to the masterful design and construction.

The chapel's isolation may also have helped preserve it in a pristine state.

And it was lovingly restored in 2004 through the efforts of the Standing Rock, Sioux tribe, the Timber Lake Area Historical Society, members of the Waggoner family, the South Dakota State Historical Society, and the Daughters of the American Revolution.

And to all of them, as well as the original congregants, we are thankful that we can still enjoy this treasure today.

Hi, I am Eliza Blue and today we are at the Old Stone Church and we wish you were here.

So the band and I are gonna tune up and set up and then play some songs for you.

It's a real honor to be here sharing music in this space.

This church is obviously a beautiful, beautiful piece of architecture, but it's also a beautiful sacred space.

So we are going to be playing several different songs.

We're gonna start out with one that's actually called "Gospel Song" and I wrote it several years ago.

I'm a huge fan of country gospel songs in general.

There's just some beautiful tunes so you may recognize some of the metaphors in the song.

They are not my own.

I borrowed from a lot of different country tunes and a little bit from Shakespeare.

So we'll start off with this one.

(upbeat country music) ♪ That cross over Jordan ♪ ♪ Leave a troubled, worried mind ♪ ♪ There'll be no calls for crying ♪ ♪ When I leave this world behind ♪ ♪ When the blessed savior calls me ♪ ♪ And my weary soul's set free ♪ ♪ I will shed this mortal coil ♪ ♪ But it all through will be me ♪ ♪ So let your thoughts let linger ♪ ♪ All this fighting eats you more ♪ ♪ Just the memory of that Savior ♪ ♪ To heaven's golden shore ♪ ♪ Pastor said he's gone insane ♪ ♪ I'll believe I have been saved ♪ ♪ When the bridegroom cometh our way, well ♪ ♪ Outta nothing, broke the door ♪ ♪ I am swimming for your shore ♪ ♪ I'm swimming for your shore ♪ ♪ So let your thoughts let linger ♪ ♪ I was barely there you more ♪ ♪ Just the memory of that savior ♪ ♪ Toward heaven's golden shore ♪ ♪ Pastor said he's gone insane ♪ ♪ I'll believe I have been saved ♪ ♪ When the bridegroom cometh our way, well ♪ ♪ Outta nothing, broke the door ♪ ♪ I am swimming toward your shore ♪ ♪ I'm swimming toward your shore ♪ ♪ Swimming toward your shore ♪ ♪ Swimming toward your shore ♪ ♪ Swimming toward your shore ♪ The chorus of this song is one of the favorite choruses, I think, I've ever written.

And it's interesting.

I mean, it's only a few words long and it's pretty simple, but it's interesting as a songwriter to find how often you write songs to yourself as much as to anyone else.

And especially during this past year I think I've been writing songs for comfort.

And this song definitely is one...

I think of it almost as a lullaby and certainly as a prayer.

And I have found a lot of peace in singing it and in playing with it and feel really lucky to be playing with the band because they make it sound more beautiful than I could have imagined it when I was writing it by myself.

So we hope it brings you comfort too.

(slow folk music) ♪ Cross the plains the wide world open ♪ ♪ There's this wave, the sad night broken ♪ ♪ Weaving the wire around, whole life stolen ♪ ♪ I long for words that can't be spoken ♪ ♪ Search the field for scraps and tatters ♪ ♪ The sparrows flown by left her feathers ♪ ♪ Against the loom of love life shattered ♪ ♪ Everything that I thought better ♪ ♪ Maybe light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ It's been so long since I could breathe out ♪ ♪ It's hard to read how that might feel love ♪ ♪ Stake saved me as smooth as arrows ♪ ♪ Wounding deep, my anxious prayer ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ I've been so alone, I'll wait longer ♪ ♪ This kind of pain is solved by hunger ♪ ♪ Hold me closer, hold me closer ♪ ♪ Hold me closer, hold me closer ♪ ♪ And let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light, let there be light ♪ ♪ Let there be light ♪ When I was thinking about what I wanted to share with you today and read, I was thinking a lot about what this church symbolizes and the history of this church and how truly miraculous it is to imagine the stones that were cut and pulled here because what you can't see is the other side of this camera is more of the same, on the other side of this camera.

There are no improved roads here so it really is amazing what people...

The will of people to create this church, amazing and inspiring.

And it also just had me thinking about the idea of grace and the way that love can transform things.

So the piece I'd like to share with you today is something I wrote relatively recently about myself and the transition I've been making to becoming a cowgirl.

I was a dreamy kind of kid who spent a lot of time doodling in notebooks.

And at a certain point, all those doodles started to be drawings of horses.

Soon, I started cutting out pictures of swiftly moving ponies with wind blown manes to tape beside my bed.

They were the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw at night.

I don't remember how I found out about it but in the little circle of my youth there existed the concept of horse camp.

It turned out that just an half an hour away from my house existed a stable.

(wind blowing) And at that stable, suburban kids like myself learned to ride horses.

I couldn't believe it, it was too good to be true.

The first day of camp, however, found me crying in the front yard, waiting for the bus in straight-leg, blue jeans and the black rubber riding boots my mom had managed to track down at a secondhand store.

In my neighborhood, kids wore shorts and t-shirts and flimsy shoes all summer.

Jeans and boots were for winter time only.

I felt like I was dressed for battle, and in a way I was.

See, I was a shy kid, a really shy kid.

The tears were because I was terrified of entering a vehicle with a bunch of strangers and then riding with them for half an hour and then hanging out with them all day and then having to ride home again.

People I didn't know would probably try to talk to me and I would be expected to think of things to say back.

One of the many benefits of summer vacation was not having to do this.

I had gone to school in the same neighborhood since I was in kindergarten and I was still scared of half the kids that lived around me.

So it was going to be worth it because I was going to learn to ride horses but I was still terrified.

When the van pulled up, I wiped away my tears and clutching the brown paper sack that held my lunch, I hauled myself onto the back seat's torn upholstery.

And it was worth it.

I met the first love of my life, an ancient Shetland pony named Pixie.

They taught us to trot by making big circles, first in one direction around the arena and then the other.

Pixie, for her part, probably would've done the same thing if I had been asleep in the saddle.

But to me, it felt like we were a team, horse and rider moving as one.

And I fell in love with all of it.

On the last day of camp, I hid in Pixie's stall when my instructor came to find me and I was sobbing too hard to tell her why.

It was because I didn't want to leave.

Pixie was my friend and at 10, those were hard for me to come by.

Fast forward 26 years, I'm standing on a hillside in Western South Dakota crying again.

It turns out learning to ride on a horse at horse camp in no way, prepared me to ride on a horse in a ranch.

This horse does not want to be my friend.

I can tell he finds me foolish.

After scrambling off him in a panic, I am too intimidated to get back on and it's too far to walk all the way home.

It is an example of something that occurs often in the life of a naturally fearful person, namely, being stuck between two equally terrifying options.

What can I do?

I get back on the horse.

There's a famous quote, "Courage is not the absence of fear, but the decision that something else is more important than one's fears."

I contemplate some variation of this quote daily.

You see, there are hidden benefits to being a naturally shy, fearful person.

Life is full of tiny victories and lots of opportunities to practice courage.

At 10, I braved the van full of camp goers so I could learn to ride on a horse.

At 42, I get to keep practicing.

Just about seven years ago, I was trying to decide if I was going to stay in South Dakota or move back to Minneapolis, when I was asked to play at a funeral in a small town.

As I lifted my violin to my shoulder and I looked out at the church pews, I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Every row was full of faces that were dear to me.

Now, I have performed on the front porches of ramshackled farmsteads, in darkened auditoriums, in radio and TV studios and the fear of performing never leaves me.

I was terrified that day in church too, but I played even though I was scared.

I played to say thank you for all the kindness I'd been shown and to pay homage to a life that had come to a close.

It's an honor and a privilege to be able to share the gift of music and I'm not about to let my stagefright keep me from offering it when I can.

I am so lucky, my life is full of blessings.

I look around at the beautiful, rich fabric of my life, the silly antics of lambs in the spring, the sweet fumblings of barn kittens, a quiet attic room to write in and love the big kind, that makes me feel like singing all the time.

I don't think I earned this life by being brave but I do think all these things are related.

So if you drive past our pasture in the evening and you see somebody riding along the fence line, a look of concentration mixed with terror on her face, it's just me practicing courage so that someday I will be able to ride across the prairie grass fast like the wind and just as free.

I am practicing courage so I will be able to accept all the love this life has to offer.

And just like everything else, it's a work in progress.

When we picked locations for filming these episodes, this was the top of my list because this is a place I had heard about but never been before.

So, partially inspired by pictures and just different stories I'd heard about this church, I wrote this song.

So it's really, really amazing to actually be here now for the first time and to get to play this song here.

It's called the Stone Church Song.

(gentle upbeat music) ♪ Speak to me of history ♪ ♪ Whispering ♪ ♪ A reckoning ♪ ♪ The prairie grass ♪ ♪ Plowed underneath ♪ ♪ The roads were curved ♪ ♪ And the cuts were deep ♪ ♪ Where you are ♪ ♪ I have not been ♪ ♪ And I don't know ♪ ♪ How this story ends ♪ ♪ But I'm listening ♪ ♪ And I'm trying to hear ♪ ♪ When the spirit speaks ♪ ♪ Beckons at the door ♪ ♪ Yeah I'm listening ♪ ♪ And I'm trying to hear ♪ ♪ When the spirit speaks ♪ ♪ Beckons at the door ♪ ♪ So let's get a seat ♪ ♪ Across the fresh old stone ♪ ♪ And we'll see what grows ♪ ♪ 'Cause we're not alone ♪ (accordion music) - This is my accordion, Rick.

Rick and I have been spending the last year in a folk arts apprenticeship.

We've been looking at a lot of things about the accordion and I've come to notice one thing.

Normally, they'll depict heaven as having angels playing harps.

And I got to thinking, "What's the deal with that?"

But what I discovered is that the reason angels are playing harps is because it's really hard to draw an accordion.

- We really do wish you were here with us and we'd like to invite you to sing this last song at home.

Thank you for watching.

(gentle upbeat music) ♪ Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound ♪ ♪ That saved a wretch like me ♪ ♪ I once was lost but now I'm found ♪ ♪ Was blind but now I see ♪ ♪ When we've been there 10,000 years ♪ ♪ Bright, shining as the sun ♪ ♪ We've no less days to sing God's praise ♪ ♪ Than when we first begun ♪ (bell chiming) (gentle upbeat music) ♪ Back roads and byways ♪ ♪ Campfires, we'll lie awake ♪ ♪ Sweetgrass and summer sage ♪ ♪ Come on baby, come on take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand, take my hand ♪ ♪ We're Dakota bound ♪