Friday afternoon I decided to return home for the weekend through some back roads in the Smokies rather than the faster method of the interstate. It took me four and a half hours instead of the usual two and a half, and it was an afternoon of pure pleasure. Let me tell you a little about my former home state, the state I was raised in and called home until 2001. But first, spend an afternoon in the beautiful Smokies with me.   They are majestic and special, maybe more so in the winter when you can really see such stark detail. The smoke like wispy fog that hangs over the mountains is from rain and evaporation from trees. As you dip through a cut on the side of a ridge, you’ll see mountain ridges stacked one upon another for miles and miles. It was a sunny afternoon, and if you looked, you could see indications of spring coming to the mountains. Daffodils on the side of the road in a few places. The country stores lining the road were selling plants lined up in front of the wide covered porches, some like the forsythia bushes already bearing a few bright yellow blooms. The hikers wore shorts. Wood piles have dwindled down to almost nothing alongside the cabins.

One of the pleasures I encountered was a simple, striking flag. If memory serves me, it was a small town in McMinn County, along highway 411. I saw what had to be the largest American flag I have ever seen. Friday was a very windy day, so windy there had been power outages in Sevierville the night before, so the flag was flying high and beautiful in the strong wind, visible from a good distance on the side of the road. There was no building I saw, so I was really curious. As I passed this huge flag, I saw a sign reading “Veterans Memorial Flag”. Small towns in Tennessee still have veterans march in our Fourth of July parades, they still have pancake breakfasts at the VFW, and apparently, they raise money to make a fitting mount and display Old Glory in a small town so that those who are lucky enough to be driving by are jolted into remembering what we all stand for in these United States we love. I am very sorry to say that it occurred to me it had been some time since I saw a flag and remembered all that it stands for, all that has been sacrificed for the right to fly it in the wind of a sunny Tennessee day. I like to imagine some of those famed Volunteers still live and planted that tribute to our country.

Just north of Etowah was beautiful dairy farm country, rolling land with a view forever. Grain silos, lots of cows, and a family of Amish in a horse drawn buggy riding along the side of the road, the women in their bonnets in the back seat, and the bearded men in old fashioned hats in the front. Oh, the beauty of an afternoon you give yourself to enjoy the best of our world, to appreciate what is special about the area we live in. Don’t we all need that now and again?

Now that you have taken a ride through the Smokies, down into the foothills with me, let me share a few interesting facts about the state. From the bottom land of west Tennessee, bounded by the mighty Mississippi, to the Blue Ridge on the border with North Carolina, the state stretches 440 miles and there are six distinct land regions. There are towns like Gatlinburg, springing up along what used to be called The Indian Gap Trail, frequented by hunters and trappers, and now a resort town in the mountain resort in Sevier County, where Dolly Parton was born. There is the tiny town of Bell Buckle, population just under 400 people, remnant of a bygone era. Established in 1852, this little railroad village is now almost entirely a town featuring antique stores in historic old buildings and restored Victorian homes. The finest in southern cooking can be found in the cafe there, through the swinging screen doors, just off the wooden boardwalk. One of the antique stores is in the old bank building, and some of it’s items can be viewed in the old vault. The town features fine arts and crafts and beautiful quilts. This town is host to the world famous RC Cola and Moon Pie Festival. You’ve never heard of the festival? Bet you don’t crumble cornbread in your milk or put peanuts in your Dr. Pepper either. Sheesh. Come to Bell Buckle and get some culture. How about Nashville, founded in 1779 and originally called Fort Nashborough.  You can visit to the Grand Old Opry,  The Parthenon in Centennial Park, a full scale reconstruction of the original, or take a stroll down Music Row on 16th Avenue. Let’s move west into the Mississippi Delta country surrounding Memphis. Try some hot barbeque and hotter blues. Stop in at Graceland while you are there. Stroll through midtown and see some beautiful old homes. Try an afternoon at the zoo, a fine treat.

Let me pause a moment here to get a little personal about one of the most important and beloved residents of Memphis: St. Jude Hospital. It is a place of miracles, of hope, and life more than anything else. About a dozen years ago, we visited this hospital because of a niece with leukemia. Of course we dreaded it. We were full of despair over our niece, and expected to see sick children, heartbroken parents, and feel the despair. Words just cannot describe how very wrong we were. When you step onto the campus of St. Jude’s, you feel the specialness, the power, the hope. By the time you enter the doors, you know you are in a place where miracles occur, where God works through special and selfless professionals who give everything they have everyday to save lives. There is something intangible that sets this place apart. Thank God that it exists, because work done there has provided help for people throughout the world. Oh, and the niece, the most beautiful of brides last April, is almost four months along with her first child. She was given a 30 percent chance of survival when admitted to St. Jude. No, everyone doesn’t get that happy outcome, but because of St. Jude, many do. Named for the patron saint of lost causes, this hospital is among the best of what Tennessee is all about. Say a prayer of thanksgiving for the hospital and its beloved founder, Danny Thomas.

 Andrew Jackson, “Old Hickory”  held every elective office from local, state, to President of the United States. Jackson was America’s first president not to come from the east coast elite, his victory considered a great victory for the common man. Unfortunately, no one considered the possible extent of the excitement, and his inaugaration turned into a bit of a brawl in the streets, and the crowd dispersed only after bowls of liquor and punch were placed on the White House lawn. We kinda still party that way in Tennessee, home of the incomparable Jack Daniels sippin whiskey.

The city of Kingston was capital of the state for one day, September 21. 1807. Hattie Carraway (1878-1950), born in Tennesse, became the first woman elected to the United States Senate, representing Arkansas. The largest earthquake in American history, the New Madrid, occured in Tennessee in the winter of 1811/1812. Tennessee was the last state to secede and the first to rejoin the union after “The war of northern aggression”. If you are of a certain age, yes indeed, you have heard genteel little old ladies refer to it in just that way.

Fisk University’s Jubilee Singers in Nashville introduced the Negro spiritual in their successful tour to raise money for the university during the 1870’s. Other genres of African American music sprang from these spirituals, and from this start, Nashville went on to become known for music.

And last but not least, Coca Cola was first bottled in my former home town of Chattanooga in 1899, after two local attorneys purchased bottling rights for ………..one dollar.

Now that you’ve read the first installment, we hope you enjoy our new series of posts to contribute. Many of us are curious about other areas of our great country where fellow tree dwellers live, and we invite you to bring your Piece of the Puzzle to life. Share with us what you love about your home state, the state you grew up in, or where you like to vacation. All we ask is that you bring what you love and give us a feel for your state that we can’t experience for ourselves. There are no rules, the more the merrier. If someone has already done your state, give us your picture too. We just thought it would be really great to paint a picture of what we are all struggling for: our America. It’s why we wound up here together in this virtual tree house. We love our country, and we work to make it the best it can be. Sometimes we have tough days where we feel overwhelmed and betrayed by our government. This will help us remember and celebrate that government is “Of the people, by the people, and for the people”.

Let us know what you think in your comments. Tell us what state you want to profile. We are also hoping some of our international residents will favor us with a post sharing details of what they love about the special places they live.