Barry William Palmer
February 2, 1960—January 27, 2026
I have known my good friend Barry Palmer for 30+ years. He passed away Tuesday, just 6 days short of his 66th birthday. Those of us who knew him well could see it coming for a while now, but I still can’t believe it. Death seems to always catch us off-guard. He battled serious health issues on multiple fronts for a long time—day-long trips to dialysis three times a week for nearly ten years, open-heart surgery three years ago, acute diabetes that eventually took most of his eye-sight. He hoped for a kidney transplant, but when that door permanently closed last year I could see a change take place in his spirit, his demeanor, his attitude, and outlook.
I believe he is now better off than any of us. I wouldn’t be much of a preacher and friend if I hadn’t talked to him often about his soul and preparation for the life to come beyond this world. As his standby go-to for rides to dialysis I would have ample time on the road to talk about a lot of things. He had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. He trusted the Lord by faith and had received God’s grace, goodness, and forgiveness.
Barry Palmer
He took care of his mama when she couldn’t take care of herself. I stood beside him in 2008 at the hospital when he insisted on being the one to physically remove his mother from life support after there was no more hope of her getting better. I preached her funeral and cried with him—her only child, who was born when she was 35 years old. Eleanor and Phillip were proud of their college graduate son Dr. Palmer, the pharmacist.
Barry was unvarnished and unfiltered. He would tell it like he saw it. You didn’t have to guess where he stood. He rubbed some folks the wrong way. Others have noted that on occasion he could be stubborn, ill-tempered, opinionated, etc., but then, so can I. He was also tenderhearted, generous, and loyal to his friends. He dispensed his wisdom when asked and gave genuine compliments and encouragement to those who needed it.
Barry was a storyteller. I don’t know how much of some things he told was true, and I don’t care. I liked hearing and swapping stories with him. We talked often and at length. I noted on my phone that we talked 1 hour and 37 minutes the day before he died. Nothing earth-shattering, mostly “spit and whittle” stuff. But it seemed almost like he didn’t want to say goodbye.
Barry was a graduate of the University of Georgia College of Pharmacy. He was smart and knew a lot about a lot of things. If you asked him for a diagnosis about your ailment he would give you one!
He was a pharmacist by trade, and he did that until his failing eyesight prevented him from reading prescriptions and counting pills, but his passion was always music and musicians. Who didn’t drop by the Cornelia Pharmacy when he was there and pick a tune or two with him between his filling prescriptions. Who hasn’t jammed or performed on stage with him, or just talked about music.
Barry played banjo and played it well. He studied it. He worked at it. He was good. He could play any style, and play with anybody. But he could also play fiddle, mandolin, and guitar all equally well. He was an excellent bass player, and could sing any part. He was a member of the Georgia Mtn Fair Band and a regular fixture at Anderson Music Hall in Hiawassee. He played with and got to know all the touring country performers who came there and needed a “back-up” band. He won banjo competitions across the Southeast and was a National Banjo Championship winner. He was a mainstay in helping lead the yearly Georgia State Fiddle Championship competition. He traveled with Benny Martin playing the “boom-boom,” as Benny called the upright bass. He played with Kenny Baker and Josh Graves, Jim and Jesse, and many others as a fill-in on banjo or bass when needed. He traded instruments, guns, and hot-licks with famed banjoist Sonny Osborne.
He had a close relationship with fiddle player and band leader Lonnie Peerce from Kentucky. At Lonnie’s bequest of the name and all rights, master recordings, etc., Barry re-birthed a new edition of his favorite band, the Bluegrass Alliance in 1998, twenty years after the original band’s last breath. Because of my membership in a configuration of that band c. 1972-74 as mandolin player and later guitar player, Barry recruited me to play gigs on fiddle with the band’s reprise. We recorded an album called Re-Alliance for Copper Creek Records in 2001, toured Japan that year, and played countless other shows and venues for several years. Thanks to Barry’s close friendship with Sonny Osborne, the band was a frequent guest on Ernest Tubb’s Midnight Jamboree in Nashville.
Barry had one of the finest collections of prewar Gibson banjos in the country. He, along with Larry Mathis and Mike Johnson, organized and ran for over twenty years the yearly “Banjothon,” a gathering of fellow enthusiasts and collectors who bring their banjos to display, swap stories and info, and share their common love of vintage instruments. But he was also a collector and virtual encyclopedia of information about guns, knives, music memorabilia, folk art, arrowheads, tractors, jeeps, tools, etc.
Barry was influential. Because of his contagious enthusiasm for music and vintage stringed instruments, I gained a renewed interest in playing music after several years of semi-dormancy, and even upgraded my own instrument collection with his assistance. I might have quit altogether were it not for his persistence at keeping me interested and playing. In the last few years the tables turned and I found myself dogging him to keep playing after his health issues grew worse.
Barry Palmer & Chuck Nation
He took many young fledgling musicians under his wing and encouraged them, taught them, inspired them, helped them. And he educated us all about banjos. He knew all there is to know about vintage Gibson banjos. He knew not only the detailed specifications of the instruments, but their individual histories. He knew where all the banjos were, who owned them, where they got them from, what parts were or were not original, their value, and much more. He knew all the banjo experts and they knew him. He knew all about set-up and how to get the optimum sound.
Barry will be missed by his widow, Tina, and by all of us who loved him. And he will forever be remembered anytime banjo pickers get together.
Chuck Nation
