“Just As She Was Leaving” isn’t a heartbreak anthem in the typical sense. It’s gentle, observational, and filled with the kind of emotional detail that only comes from someone who listens closely to life.
The lyrics trace a fleeting moment — a door closing, a glance back, a silence heavy with things unsaid. John’s voice is calm, but aching. You can hear the years he spent writing poems in the margins of church bulletins, and the quiet nights alone with nothing but the sound of crickets and guitar strings.
“I didn’t grow up with a lot,” he says. “But I grew up with a family that believed in kindness and prayer — and that’s the root of every song I’ve ever written.”
John’s family is tight-knit, humble, and deeply musical. His mother led the choir at their local church. His father, who spent long days repairing fences, always made it home in time to listen to his son sing by the fire.
“We didn’t have cable, but we had Merle Haggard and Alan Jackson on the radio,” he laughs. “That was enough.”
His grandfather, a Vietnam veteran with a quiet soul, taught him three chords and how to listen more than you talk. That lesson stuck.
When American Idol came calling, John wasn’t sure he’d even audition.
“I almost didn’t go,” he admits. “I thought, ‘Maybe I’m not flashy enough. Maybe what I do is too quiet.’”
But it was exactly that quiet honesty — first heard in “Just As She Was Leaving” — that made people stop and lean in.
The video still lives online, modestly filmed and simply captioned. No big production. No spotlight. Just a boy, a guitar, and a goodbye.
Somehow, that small song helped open a much bigger door.
Now, with Idol eyes watching and thousands of new fans discovering his early work, John remains rooted in who he is. He still lives in Asheville. He still calls his mom every Sunday. And he still writes songs in the same tattered notebook he’s had since he was seventeen.
“I’m not trying to be the loudest voice,” he says. “I just want to be an honest one.”
