For generations of country music fans, Twitty City wasn’t just a mansion—it was a memory. Built in 1982 in Hendersonville, Tennessee, by Conway Twitty himself, the estate quickly became a landmark in the country music world. It housed his family, welcomed fans, hosted holiday specials, and stood as a physical embodiment of the legendary singer’s love for his audience and his roots.
But in late 2023, everything changed.
A powerful EF-2 tornado tore through Middle Tennessee, leaving destruction in its path. Among the buildings damaged was Twitty City—now known as Trinity Music City, operated by the Trinity Broadcasting Network (TBN). And with that damage came a decision that sparked outrage, heartbreak, and ultimately… a fight to preserve history.
The Storm That Sparked a Crisis
The December 9th tornado didn’t completely flatten Twitty City, but it caused severe structural damage. TBN’s director of real estate, Frank Amedia, later told the Hendersonville Planning Commission that the mansion was “twisted,” its roof compromised, and it was no longer safe for use. One hundred staff were displaced, and entire wings of the building were left unusable.
In the weeks that followed, rumors began to spread. Was Twitty City going to be demolished? Would the historic site that once symbolized Conway Twitty’s connection to his fans be torn down to make way for new development?
The answer, as it turned out, was yes—at least initially.
A Daughter’s Voice
As the news reached the Twitty family, Joni Ryles, Conway’s daughter, stepped forward with a message that pierced the heart of country music fans everywhere.
“It breaks our hearts,” she said. “This was more than just our family home. It was where Dad brought his dreams to life. It was built for the fans, not just for us. Seeing it taken down—it would be like losing him all over again.”
Her voice ignited something. Fans took to social media, local news stations ran emotional segments, and Hendersonville residents began speaking out. What began as a quiet real estate decision was suddenly a public flashpoint, and Joni—without intending to—had become the face of the resistance.
The City Responds
When TBN brought their development proposal before the Hendersonville Planning Commission, the outcome was a dramatic 4–4 vote—a tie that effectively halted the demolition plans. The city wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Twitty City, and the emotional pleas from Joni and others had clearly left an impression.
What followed was a tense few weeks of uncertainty. TBN had the legal right to make changes to the property. But emotionally, they were under pressure. And in the world of heritage and memory, emotion often wins.
A Stunning Reversal
In early 2024, TBN held a press conference.
“We heard you,” Frank Amedia said, standing beside Hendersonville’s mayor and other officials. “We felt the weight of what this place means—not just to the family, but to the fans, the city, and the country music community. We’ve prayed about it. We’ve discussed it. And we’re going to restore the mansion.”
It was a stunning about-face. After initially planning to demolish the house and expand their facilities, TBN now promised to preserve the core of Twitty City, integrate it into future plans, and allow it to continue standing as a tribute to one of country’s most beloved voices.
Joni Ryles, upon hearing the decision, was visibly emotional. “It’s not exactly what it was, and maybe it never will be,” she admitted. “But the heart of it? That heartbeat is still there. And that’s what matters.”
Why It Matters
In an age where iconic spaces are constantly being bulldozed to make room for condos and parking garages, the fight to save Twitty City stands out. It’s not just about nostalgia. It’s about respect.
Conway Twitty gave the world decades of music—songs like “Hello Darlin’,” “Tight Fittin’ Jeans,” and “Don’t Cry, Joni” didn’t just chart; they changed people’s lives. His home became a sacred place for fans, a pilgrimage site for those who connected deeply with his words and voice.
To destroy that without second thought would’ve been an erasure not only of bricks and beams—but of memories, values, and history.
And that’s exactly why people fought so hard.
What’s Next for Twitty City?
According to the latest plan, the restored mansion will serve as an administrative and community hub. Surrounding land will still be developed to house new facilities, including studio expansions and a proposed senior living complex. But the home itself—the part that mattered most—will remain.
Memorabilia displays are being discussed. The “Hello Darlin’” wall, custom guitars, and family artifacts may once again find a permanent place for fans to visit.
In many ways, this isn’t just about a house. It’s a lesson: legacy matters, and when people come together for something they love, they can make a difference.
Final Thought
Conway Twitty once sang, “It’s only make believe.” But Twitty City was very real. It stood as proof that fame could be humble, that stardom could be personal, and that a man with a guitar could create not just music—but a home the world wanted to be a part of.
Now, thanks to his daughter and the people who refused to stay silent, it still will.