Eric Church's Tennessee Sanctuary - Garden & Gun

Until that time, Church has plenty to keep him occupied on the property, fishing or wielding one of his twenty-odd chain saws to work on the land. “Grab your beer,” he says. “Let’s go for a ride.” We pile into a two-seater UTV, and he guns it up into the hills, pointing out a flock of wild turkeys crossing the trail. Church doesn’t hunt, though he lets friends occasionally. (“It’s too much work to hunt. I’d rather look at ’em.”) In the distance a giant buck jumps over the path, followed by several does. Church runs these trails often, putting in six to eight miles to clear his head.

For all Church’s success, the last few years have also been trying. In the summer of 2017, he nearly died from a blood clot in his chest that required emergency surgery. Doctors had to remove one of his ribs. Then, after months of rehab, he headlined the Friday night slot at the Route 91 Harvest festival in Las Vegas, where two nights later the deadliest mass shooting in the country’s history claimed the lives of sixty people. One of the songs from Heart & Soul, “Through My Ray-Bans,” is a wistful, gorgeous tribute to his fans at the festival. Eight months later, his brother passed away suddenly. “He’d been in and out of rehab, but one day he had a seizure and dropped dead,” Church says. “Still haven’t gotten over that. Probably never will.”

His mood brightens when we stop for a look at an old moonshine still that has been there since the 1920s. “Feel how strong that wood is,” he says, grabbing the boards with both hands. Up the nearby hill is a cave where Church says the moonshiners stored their liquor. “There are all these pieces of mason jars on the ground, and that’s also where the rattlesnakes are.” He declines to venture up there to take a look. A few minutes later, we arrive at what’s known as the silo, a round building where from the second story you can see the lights of Nashville twinkle in the distance. Surprisingly, Church doesn’t come up here much. The couch cushions are still wrapped in plastic, but there’s a large firepit and grill outside, where he cooks up hot dogs for the boys. He says they might end up building a home on the property, but the house they currently live in is closer to the boys’ school. Katherine rides horses, so the next undertaking will most likely be a barn.

Church admits he hasn’t written a song since the sessions in the mountains, but he isn’t concerned. Eventually the inspiration will come, in the land and in the quiet. “The seclusion has been good for my career,” he says. “I’m not a big people guy. You’re a mile from any road, and that works for my personality. It’s been a lifesaver.”