Introduction:
Owen, 51, lives with his wife, Kelly, in a beautiful Tudor-style mansion just a short drive from the very place where he grew up — and where his mother still resides. Nestled near Lookout Mountain and not far from Little River Canyon, the area has been home to generations of the Owen family. Following in his late father Gladstone Owen’s footsteps, Owen now runs the family cattle farm, continuing a legacy of hard work and tradition.
Owen’s only lingering regret is that his father passed away before witnessing Alabama’s rise to fame in the country music scene, marked by iconic hits like “Mountain Music,” “Close Enough to Perfect,” and the beloved unofficial state anthem, “My Home’s in Alabama.”
Martha Owen, 69, is a warm, down-to-earth woman whose salt-and-pepper hair is always neatly tied in a high bun. Famous throughout the county for her legendary homemade apple pies, she lives in a humble red-brick house surrounded by a thriving vegetable garden — lovingly tended by Owen himself. Her two daughters, Reba and Rachel, live close by with their families, just a stone’s throw away.
Whenever the whole family gathers, their home fills with laughter, music, and heartfelt stories of growing up poor yet rich in love, joy, and resilience.
Martha fondly remembers Owen’s childhood mischief. As a boy, he loved whittling with knives, but he was constantly losing them somewhere on the family farm. To solve the problem, his parents tied a knife around his neck with a piece of string so he’d never misplace it again.
Family photo albums capture young Owen — a wild, barefoot farm boy — racing through the grass, his little knife bouncing on its chain in the wind.
“When Randy was about eight,” Martha recalls with a smile, “we had this big old kitchen with a table right in the middle. Whenever he got into trouble and I’d start after him, he’d take off running, and we’d end up chasing each other round and round that table.”
She laughs as she continues, “We had screen doors that never latched properly, so he’d run outside before I could catch him. But one day, he’d done something real ornery, and I was determined to get him. We went flying around that table, and when he bolted for the door — well, somebody had fixed the latch without us knowing. He slammed into it so hard that he broke the screen door clean in half! His feet went right under, and his head smacked the screen, leaving a perfect screen-print mark across his forehead.”
Her voice softens as she remembers the moment:
“I didn’t even want to scold him then. Poor little fella. I was just so relieved he wasn’t badly hurt. He wore that mark on his forehead for days.”
At the memory, Owen and his mother burst into laughter, their bond shining through in a moment that blends nostalgia, humor, and love — a testament to a family rooted in tradition and storytelling.