My grandfather was born November 4, 1920 in Dawson, Oklahoma.

Dawson is the tiny town in north Tulsa that was a city within the city. He was six months old when the Tulsa Race Massacre ravaged our city. At age 95, I recorded him telling us that my great grandmother had helped hide people fleeing from the violence all the way at Pine and Sheridan.

Capturing these pieces of history were significant to me, but I soon realized they were significant to all of us.

I grew up in a 1990’s Tulsa with an art deco ghost town in the IDL. Parking lots covered Greenwood and we’d wonder where everyone was in this empty city. After the 9-5’ers left for the day, only the most daring artists, musicians and homeless remained. Mayfest in Bartlett Square boomed with hope. I voted yes on the “Vision 2020” initiative to build BOK Center. It worked. Meanwhile, Bell’s Amusement Park falls victim to political power struggles and I watch my childhood roller coaster be dismantled one piece at a time. Greenwood remained silenced.

Beginning with the Tulsa music scene, I went on a personal mission to conduct interviews and capture stories of our history while many of our local legends were still alive. What I found opened a door forever to an understanding that Tulsa had generated some of the most energetically special people, music and art in our modern history. This Tulsa influence, I came to realize, had been at the core of much of America’s pop culture as well as, tragically, the core of some of America’s most violent culture. When the Beatles were at their peak, Tulsans were right there.

Ironically, calling Tulsa “The Center of the Universe” didn’t seem so far off as I began to map out these stories and connections. Tulsan Marshall Bell coined that term for very specific reasons.

This is the Tulsa that I decided to invest in. Not a perfect city with everything to offer, no mountains or beaches or perfect weather. Tulsa is a place so oppressive that being an artist or musician is an act of rebellion, not an accepted norm. A place with weather so varying that you adapt, learning to watch the tornado from the porch and take shelter when you hear the train. A community of churches and schools that teach people what they don’t want out of life just as much as what they do want.

Tulsa is a foundry so hot that it builds characters that decide to grow long hair and play music in the face of oppression. Tulsa is a place that teaches people they have to fight to create the world of our future.

It is this tenacity in our people that kept me here, rather than drive me away.

We built Wild Mountain Studio in Tulsa as an act of rebellion. It’s the perfect safe haven for artists and musicians and a peaceful production headquarters.