One of Clarksville's VERY Few Best Kept Secrets

When it comes time for that dreaded driver's license renewal, and that notice that comes in the mail states that you must come in...you can't mail it in, you go out to the Driver's License Center on West Dunbar Cave and take a number. You may or may not get a seat. If you do not get there when the door is unlocked and push and shove your way to the front of the line, your wait may be 2 hours. If you wait until later in the morning, you end up circling the parking lot doing the vulture hunt for a parking spot. That is what happened today when King of Patience went to renew. He went inside while I was parking the truck, and was back outside before I could get my cell phone out and check my email...and he repeated every negative comment that I had read on the 2.0 rated reviews.

Luckily, someone had posted on Facebook some time ago about the kiosk at the Election Commission office...one of those 'do-it-yourselfers'. After uttering a few choice words...well, he didn't exactly utter them but I was the only one in the truck to hear them...I drove to the Election Commission office to see if we could find this little 'do-it-yourself' box. And sure enough!!!! No lines, No waiting! After reading the directions on the screen we were in and out of there in a matter of minutes.

As we were leaving, KOP make a comment that stopped me dead in my tracks. He said, "You were smart to think of this!" After letting it register in my brain and savoring it for what seemed like minutes, but was likely only a few seconds, I called to the two clerks seated at the reception area at the Election Commission, "Did you all just hear what he said?!?" Their response was, "Yes, we heard it at 11:15. It has been noted."

Next time you get one of those notices to renew your license and it tells you to come in, go to the kiosk at the Election Commission office. You will be glad you did, and someone may even tell you that you were smart for thinking of it. 😉

Road Trip With KOP

I hadn't been out of bed long this morning when KOP, who gets up much earlier than I do, stated, "I'm tired of just sitting around, I want to go somewhere." 
"Where?" I asked.
"I don't know, just somewhere." was the response I heard. But that is the response I expected from him.
I powdered my nose, packed a snack of cheese, crackers and water, and out the door we went.

KOP asked if I wanted to eat lunch at Patti's 1880 Settlement.  I told him that would be great...but it burned down a few months ago.  But we headed that direction anyway by way of Dover and The Trace through LBL.

We stopped at the buffalo range, but they were all grazing on another hill somewhere else on the range.  Our next stop was The Homeplace.  I have been there before but KOP had not.  I paid the fee and chatted with the lady at the register for awhile when KOP struck up a conversation with another employee and found out that she had once worked at Trane Co.  Trane Co conversations always are indepth.  And before long another former Trane employee joined in the conversation.  I had to encourage him to end it so we could get on with our trip. After all, it was nearing lunch time and we were still a long way from Patti's 1880 Settlement...that had burned down a few months ago.

I love photographing peaceful settings and there were lots to shoot at The Homeplace.  Even the wooden fence has it photographic appeal.



But KOP got a little tired of my pursuit of objects and settings that I found beautiful.  I really didn't spend that much time looking for something to shoot.



We continued along the trail until we reached the homeplace setting.  It was hard to imagine what life was like living and surviving as the people did during that time period.  Even though the setting was beautiful, I had my doubts that the lawn was that neatly manicured.   There were several out buildings and they each had a purpose.  For those that grew up in the mid 1900's the words corn crib, smoke house, hen house, tool shed, wash house, and potato house are well understood, and will likely revive a few memories.  Even the breeze way that separates the house in half contributed its part to the setting...by allowing a breeze to blow through and bring some relief to the residents during those hot summers.  Not so sure they helped a lot during the winter.

My attention was immediately drawn to quilting frame and quilt on the front porch.  I'm not sure I would have ever completed a quilt by this method.  However, this was the way my mother quilted all of hers.



Chickens in the yard brought back childhood memories.  Eggs, baby chickens, happy clucking of a freshly laid egg, watching your step as you ran barefoot in the grass, cleaning their droppings off the porch, and fried chicken on Sundays.





  

Oxen enjoying the day off...no plow to pull today.

Sheep doing all they can to keep cool.  Not easy with a heavy wool coat. 
   

I think the weeds are winning.


A peek inside the smoke house revealed country hams ready for slicing.

On our way to where Patti's used to be, KOP saw a sign that advertised a golf course. And, of course, that is the direction we went.  After several attempts to get the GPS to pick up...in the middle of no where... I decided to just wing it hope that we would find a good restaurant somewhere...out in the middle of no where. 
We crossed the new bridge at Canton, Ky.  I had seen photos of it in the past and was excited to finally drive across.  I was driving and was unable to make my own photo so I borrowed a photo from the internet. 




We ended our day with lunch at Barkley Lodge before finding our way back to Clarksville. 
 

Big Rock Memories June 20, 2018

How often do we take trips down memory lane in our minds?  The answer is most likely daily the older we get.  Memories are little photo shots of a certain place at a certain time in our past.  While memories often fade, our favorite ones provide us with an escape from here and now to a time that was peaceful and calm.  Peaceful and calm seems to be how we associate it anyway.  Memories take us  back to a time before life happened, gave us a jolt, and allowed us to experience the contrast of peaceful and calm.

Another slap of reality comes when we go back and physically visit those places that are carved into our memory. We arrive expecting to see what once was as we remembered only to find it to be vastly changed or even unrecognizable. Some of those changes are for the better and some of them no so much.

Today, a childhood friend and I took a trip back to Big Rock, TN where we both claim as our hometown. I was 'rural' Big Rock and she was 'downtown'.  We passed what used to be an old grocery store run by Mr. Ben Ezell, her uncle.  It was later a garage run by Mr. Elmer Threatt, both long ago deceased.  The building had not seen a customer in several years or maybe decades.  We turned and headed for Smith Cemetery located on a grassy knoll with tall cedars shading the back section.  Like me, she has become all too familiar with that little fenced in area.   A fresh morning breeze and birds singing was reassuring that our family members were indeed at peace.  And, as always, the grounds were well kept.   We didn't have to dig far into our memory banks to recognize many of the names on the headstones as residents that once lived in Big Rock.  Some of the stones were dated long before we both were born.  One particular headstone stood out with its calla lily carving.  It was engraved as wife of J. S. Smith.  We immediately looked around for Mr. J. S. Smith and quickly found him sharing a headstone with another Mrs. Smith.  We wondered how peacefully he was resting between the two Mrs. Smiths.

 
Directly between two cedar trees was a stone that left me with a knot in my stomach.  It was dedicated to the first burial in the cemetery.  Somewhere in Big Rock was a dark secret the went with someone to their grave...perhaps one of the occupants of one of the many graves here.










          


We said goodbye to Smith Cemetery occupants and traveled on to a quaint little church that continued to charm the valley as it did so many years ago in our memory.  There had been one change...it was once Methodist but now housed the Church of Christ.  The old Church of Christ building was long gone and the Methodist church had merged with another in the Big A community. The beautiful little building had thus changed denominations after being purchased by the Church of Christ.   I wondered how long it had been since the bell had rung to summons the community to a service or announce a celebration.


           

We then drove past the church to a large rock now practically hidden by vegetation.  The large bolder was where Big Rock got its name.  My friend shared memories of a path that led to the top of the rock where marshmallow and wiener roasts happened frequently.  Now, one can barely see the rock.

The stores, once owned by Robert Feltner and Cap and Skeeter Martin, with benches out front where the older gentlemen congergated daily to discuss current events, argue politics, and whittle a small piece of wood with their pocket knives are long gone.  Even the Post Office that once also served as the community library has been threatened by closure. 

            

From there, we proceeded along the narrow road to where Big Rock Elementary School once stood.  The little road the circled in front of the school that carried bus loads of children for thousands and thousands of days was no longer accessible. The school housed first through eighth grades all taught by three teachers (Mrs. Louise Ellis, Mrs. Lolita Link, and Mr. James Bogard), a great gymnasium, and a ball field with sheltered bleachers.  The windows were huge and covered the entire wall of each classroom.  This allowed  fresh air to flow, sunlight, and the chance to gaze out and mentally escape the other three walls that were plastered with maps, handwriting guidelines, and other means of enhancing our education. The only windows with screens were in the cafeteria. Even a screen door covered the hallway entrance to the cafeteria serving the purpose of keeping out the flies and allowing the aroma of the daily home cooked lunch to infiltrate the building.  Air conditioning was unheard of, but school was usually dismissed for the year mid-May and didn't start until after Labor Day in September.  Most of the summer months were spent elsewhere.  You could always count on a play to be performed on the stage in the auditorum every year at Christmas and every grade would participate in the program in some way. 

All that is now left of Big Rock Elementary School is a few concrete blocks that once supported the walls of the gymnasium, and the outline that can be recognized from Google maps.


From there, we stopped at my friend's home place where she grew up.  The house appeared to be well kept, unlike many others in the little community.  Even the tree by the side of the road has withstood the test of time.
          

The Big Rock community now and the Big Rock stored in our memories are two different places.  A tornado, a flood, and time have all made hefty contributions to the changes. Lawns that were once manicured to perfection are now over come with vegetation making it next to impossible to recognize the pride in what once stood there.  Like the namesake rock  that has almost disappeared from sight, so has the community of Big Rock as we once knew it.  Thank God for the memories we have salvaged of the thriving but peaceful and calm little community that once nested in this little valley. 

Robo Calls!

Today, while eating my lunch, the phone rang and the caller ID showed one of those numbers that you know better than to answer...you just know.  Feeling annoyed, I decided to do something I knew I shouldn't...I just knew.  I answered the call.   The caller's voice was immediately recognizable as one of those recorded Robo calls.  It was a female speaking in a seductive soft tone...which ticked me off even more...and music playing softly in the background.  She stated that if I was suffering from pain, and she named several kinds and locations such as arthritic, back, knees, etc., they had the solution that could be delivered straight to my door.  I just needed to press one to speak with a representative.  Again, I did something that I knew better than to do, I pressed one!
King of Patience (KOP) was glaring at me like I was crazy.  I had the phone on speaker and he heard the spill by the sexy female on the recording.  He immediately asked, "What did you do that for?"  I answered him with a glare that spoke all the needed words to let him know that it was not an accident...I meant to press one!  And, that glare also reflected my irritation of having my glass of buttermilk and cornbread interrupted by a robo caller!
Finally, the live 'representative' came on the line.  Speaking in a foreign accent, he asked me how I was doing and how he could help.  That was the cue I had been waiting for.  In my 'sweet southern drawl'  I told him, "Yes, you can help me. I need to tell you about my pain.  I have a pain in my ass (yes, I said ass) from all these robo calls and I need it to stop NOW!  You take my number off your list and don't call me anymore and my pain will be much better."
I hung up the phone and went back to my glass of buttermilk and cornbread.  Then the thought ran through my mind...I wonder if the 'pain representative' with the foreign accent understands 'sweet southern drawl'.

FYI...the number is 585-312-1778