
Marideth Ann Sisco
Storyteller, Musician, and Journalist
- Lifespan
- June 15, 1943 – May 18, 2026Jun 15, 1943 – May 18, 2026
- Location
- West Plains, Missouri, USAWest Plains, MO

Storyteller, Musician, and Journalist
A legendary storyteller and musician who became the global voice of the Ozark hills, Marideth Sisco died May 18, 2026, at her home in West Plains, Missouri. She was 82. In her final decades, she stood as the preeminent guardian of a fading cultural landscape, a role she embraced with the grit of a reporter and the soul of a ballad singer. Her late chapter was defined by a remarkable second act that saw her transition from a local journalist into an international cultural ambassador. This transformation was catalyzed by her work on the Academy Award nominated film Winter's Bone, where she served as the music consultant and a featured singer. The film's success provided the platform for her to lead the Blackberry Winter Band on international tours, bringing the authentic, unvarnished sounds of her home to audiences far beyond the Missouri borders. As noted in Spellbinding Music, she became the face and voice of a region's musical heritage during these final fifteen years, proving that the stories of the hills had a place on the global stage.
During this period, she was more than just a performer; she was a designated Missouri Master Storyteller. Through the Missouri Folk Arts Program, she worked to ensure that the oral traditions and musical heritage of the region remained vibrant and relevant. Her monthly radio program, These Ozark Hills, became a staple for listeners of KSMU Ozarks Public Radio, offering a mix of regional folklore, history, and personal reflection. She often described herself as just another hillbilly with an opinion, but her work suggested a much deeper mission. She believed that storytelling was a vital tool for preservation, once noting that storytelling is just a way of making sure the things that matter don't get lost. Her voice, described as earthy and resilient, became synonymous with the hills themselves. She even took the stage at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in Washington, D.C., representing the culture she had spent her life documenting.
This late-life acclaim was a sharp departure from the early chapters of her career, which were marked by institutional rejection and physical hardship. Born in Butterfield, Missouri, to Paul Holtz Sisco and Marguerite Elenor Gentry, she showed early promise, beginning her singing career at the age of three. Her first stage was an ice cream freezer at an auction, where she performed Far Away Places with Strange Sounding Names. However, the path to professional performance was blocked when she attended Southwest Missouri State College. There, the music department told her that women could not succeed in performance or orchestration, a dismissal that altered the course of her life. She left the college and spent the 1960s and early 1970s in California, performing folk music in the coffeehouses and dives of San Francisco, Santa Cruz, and Los Angeles. Her time in California was cut short by a significant hand injury sustained in an automobile accident, which permanently limited her ability to play the guitar. This forced a return to Missouri and a shift in her creative focus. She eventually returned to Missouri State University to earn a Bachelor of Fine Arts in photography with a minor in writing, as documented by KSMU Public Radio.
For twenty years, she channeled her storytelling instincts into journalism, working as an investigative and environmental reporter for the West Plains Daily Quill. This period of her life was defined by the same tenacity she would later bring to her music. She was the author of the long running and popular gardening column Crosspatch, where she blended horticultural advice with sharp social commentary. Her reporting at the Daily Quill gave her the edge that would later define her radio work. She was a woman who knew the land and its people, and she was not afraid to speak truth to power. This was particularly evident in her advocacy for the LGBTQ+ community. As an openly lesbian artist in a traditionally conservative region, she challenged stereotypes and fought for visibility, ensuring that her identity was a vital part of her public persona. She believed in the resilience of her community, once stating that while people might tremble in the moment, they eventually get up and do what needs to be done.
Her commitment to social justice even extended to her musical arrangements. When preparing the soundtrack for Winter's Bone, she took the traditional version of The Missouri Waltz and reworked the lyrics to remove racist language, a process detailed by the Nashville Scene. She understood that for a culture to survive, it had to evolve. This blend of tradition and progress earned her the Missouri Arts Award, the state's highest honor in the arts, as well as induction into the Missouri Writers Hall of Fame and the Quill Award for lifetime achievement. In her later years, she remained a fixture of West Plains, often seen driving a car older than many of the children in town. She observed that the Ozarks had not changed all that much since the 1940s, and she took pride in being a bona fide native who was nearly as old as the hills themselves.
Marideth Sisco will be remembered as the woman who refused to let the Ozarks be reduced to a caricature. She gave the region a voice that was sophisticated yet soulful, traditional yet inclusive. By turning her investigative eye toward her own heritage, she captured the spirit of a place and its people with a clarity that few others could match. She leaves behind a legacy of songs and stories that serve as a bridge between the past and the future, ensuring that the things that truly matter will never be lost. Her life was a testament to the power of the second act, proving that one's most vital work can often begin long after others have suggested the performance is over.
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The wet cold winter in Santa Cruz '68 had me enter the Beach Street Cafe. The on a small stage were two women singers blending their voices in tight harmony, Marideth and Michelle. I would help paint their soon to open 'Grass Cookie' bar and inhabit their warmth, kindness and a the fond memory the rest of my life. The greece fisherman's hat sat upon the cheerful rose cheeks of Marideth. There was that short 'hee, hee, hee' laughter she would try to hold back. But when it came time to bust out like her version of 'Rocky Raccoon' There was no stopping her. It was an honest clear voice that pierced the heart. "My, my, my the tears they do run dry and all I can do is brake down and cry." her lyrics burned into the soul because of their truth. "Bus driver please take me back where I come from" was her parting song at Club Zayante before she left for MO, Marideth gave me two days shelter as a drunken sad soldier about to be a military escort. She had time for sorrows and the joys of our shared lives, 'A Sister of Mercy'. Many years later while viewing a film, there was her voice and then Marideth face. I received so much from her and I only gave her a few images like the end of the railroad line in Davenport.
The wet cold winter in Santa Cruz '68 had me enter the Beach Street Cafe. The on a small stage were two women singers blending their voices in tight harmony, Marideth and Michelle. I would help paint their soon to open 'Grass Cookie' bar and inhabit their warmth, kindness and a the fond memory the rest of my life. The greece fisherman's hat sat upon the cheerful rose cheeks of Marideth. There was that short 'hee, hee, hee' laughter she would try to hold back. But when it came time to bust out like her version of 'Rocky Raccoon' There was no stopping her. It was an honest clear voice that pierced the heart. "My, my, my the tears they do run dry and all I can do is brake down and cry." her lyrics burned into the soul because of their truth. "Bus driver please take me back where I come from" was her parting song at Club Zayante before she left for MO, Marideth gave me two days shelter as a drunken sad soldier about to be a military escort. She had time for sorrows and the joys of our shared lives, 'A Sister of Mercy'. Many years later while viewing a film, there was her voice and then Marideth face. I received so much from her and I only gave her a few images like the end of the railroad line in Davenport.