“The eye traffics in feelings, not in thoughts.”
 ― Walker Evans

Day 26

The Natchez Trace is a 444-mile National Scenic Parkway stretching from Natchez, MS, to Nashville, TN, following a historic travel corridor through Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee. Open year-round, it offers a relaxing, journey packed with historic sites, hiking trails, biking, and free camping, making it a popular destination for history enthusiasts and outdoor lovers. The northern terminus is just a few miles from our home, right by The Loveless Cafe. There are several scattered access points to the parkway between here and the TN/AL border.

I have driven the entire length of the parkway and love several of the towns along the way. Jackson MS., … Leipers Fork, TN, …. Tupelo, MS. It’s also a favorite of mine just for a great, beautiful, and relaxing motorcycle ride. Not the best road if you’re trying to MAKE good time. But one the very best if you’re trying to HAVE a good time.

“There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone”

Day 27.

And then the rains came.

I really love sitting on the back porch watching and listening to the rain come down. It rained pretty hard for a short while. The sky was phenomenal for just a little window

Day 28

Lucinda “Granny” White (c. 1743–1816) was a pioneering Tennessee entrepreneur who ran a famous 19th-century inn and tavern near Nashville. A determined widow, she traveled from North Carolina via ox cart, establishing a popular stop along the Middle Franklin Turnpike (now named Granny White Pike in her honor).

Key Facts about Granny White:

* The Journey: Around 1800-1803, she moved from North Carolina to the Nashville area with her orphaned grandchildren, a slave, and a spinning wheel, selling bread and ginger cakes to survive.

* The Inn: She bought 50 acres in the Overton Hills (near present-day Brentwood) and opened a tavern/inn in 1812, known for its hospitality, food, and homemade brandy.

* Legacy: Her popularity was such that she became a symbol of pioneer independence, with U.S. Senator Thomas Hart Benton, a Missouri native and a patron of the Inn, citing her story to support American entrepreneurship.

* Location: She is buried in her home’s original property area, with her gravesite located in the median at the entrance to “The Inns of Granny White” subdivision.

The bench here is one of several at Granny White Park in Brentwood, near the relatively new accessible playground.built for toddlers and young children including those with disabilities. We often take my granddaughter here to play, and the park is a fairly regular place for Evan, Janet and I to walk during our regular Sunday outings with him. Including this morning. If you look closely, you’ll see Evan in the background.

I am no stranger to this bench.

Day 29

This is Kalai. He’s one of the finest men I know. Kind, intelligent, and caring. He’s one of the members of my Nashville dad’s group. He also gives the most authentically warm hugs of any guy I’ve ever known. When he speaks I listen, because more often than not his words are wise and insightful.

Some of you know I’m on the national board of directors of the Special Fathers Network.(SFN). This is a Network of fathers from across the nation of children or adults with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities. I participate each week in two different “Mastermind” groups of dads. We come from a wide variety of backgrounds, life experiences, and interests and passions. The one thing we share is being parent to extraordinary individuals. Each week we share “wins” from the previous week, we discuss relevant books we are collectively reading, we have opportunity to air something on our hearts and minds to get feedback and perspective from other dads, and we share what we are looking forward to or working on in the coming days.

I have one group of guys from all over…. IL, MN, VT, TN, etc. The other group I’m involved with is local to Middle TN. . The first group meets via zoom each week. The second group meets face to face over a meal once a month, and all the other weeks via zoom. I am particularly excited that this Fall, Nashville will be host to our annual Mastermind Retreat, with dads from across the US, and also a number of international dads, including our good friends from Iceland and several other nations.

I’ve come to respect, value, and love these men like brothers. We enrich one another’s lives beyond measure. Together, our only goal is to become better fathers, better spouses, and better men.

Kalai. Just ONE of the reasons I’m still an active advocate after nearly three decades of continual advocacy in the disability arena.

Day 30

Honeycrisp. Love me some apples. I think these are some of the best.

Day 31

The trees do not hurry,
yet they arrive everywhere—
in the hush between heartbeats,
in the soft bend of light on leaves.

The grasses carry no burden,
only the whisper of being enough.
Even the river, restless as it seems,
finds its way by letting go.

And standing there—quiet, unneeded—
you remember how to belong
to a world that never asked you
to be anything but still.

       – jms

Day 32.

This is Shenita. She works at our company. We are better off for having her. She was recently advanced to being in charge of our stockroom and extensive inventory after the retirement of a long time employee. Shenita brightens my day every time I see her. We sat and had a long conversation today, and just caught up. Her sweet spirit and always always always asking how you’re doing, inquiring about the family, and just being an extraordinarily upbeat person is so appreciated. We could use more like her in this world. Thanks Shenita.

Day 33

I grew up just a few blocks from the railroad depot in my small Missouri hometown. I remember waking up on those warm nights with my window open, and through the screen hearing the freight trains coming through town.the sound of the whistle. It was comforting in some strange way. I still love the sound of trains. As a kid, I’d go down to the train station, and just watch at the depot as the trains came through. I remember passenger trains stopping, with people getting off and then others boarding the trains. And the sound of the conductor, leaning out from the steps of a passenger car, yelling “All aboard!!!” And train pulling away. I would stand and watch until it disappeared in the distance. I loved the smell inside the depot … with the big official clock, the train schedule up on the wall, the bubbler on the wall where I’d chug down a cool sip of water. Before hopping on my bike for the ride home. Magical memories. I have hiked along the tracks many times in different places. Standing off to the side as the train roared past. I even hopped a freight once, which was a very stupid thing to do …. but that’s another story. There’s something about looking down the tracks that just sort of lights me up inside. And ignites a sense of wanderlust. I love trains. Took this photo today near my home.

Day 34.

This is horse country. There are SO many horse farms dotting the countryside around Williamson County, many very close. This little bungalow with many horses grazing the attached fields is just over the hill from our place.

Evan loved riding in a stellar program for kids with disabilities called SaddleUp! , also near our house. Until he aged out at 18. Before he aged out, Miss Nancy his tiding coach nominated him for a national award as Child Equestrian of the Year, after his remarkable connection to his horse, and affinity in learning new skills. She also said she’d never seen another rider who enjoyed “mucking out the stalls” as much as Evan . He didn’t win, but what an honor to be nominated. We were lucky to find a small program for older folks with IDD that he rode at until the school/church that owned the program shut it down for a school expansion. We still hold out hope that we can find another, not too far away where he can participate. Until then we still enjoy seeing the horses on our Sunday drives.

Day 35.

This is Isaiah. Another of our street musicians in Franklin, and easily my favorite. He plays downtown at the corner of 4th and Main, right outside the old location of Pigg & Peach, the long time men’s clothier co-owned by Bill Peach. He’s there almost every weekend evening, and many weekday evenings as well. He often, though not always plays barefoot. He may be playing a beautiful waltz, an old church hymn, an Irish Reel, a folk song … or anything else. He told me he does the street musician thing to pay the bills, though he plays professionally elsewhere as well.

Sometimes if we’re out in the evening, after dinner or some other outing, we’ll dive down Main Street slowly with the windows down just to hear him play. If I’m on foot I will usually toss a few bucks his way.

Yet another reason I love my town. Sweet folks like Isaiah.

Day 36

This is “Chip”.

This is Franklin’s “Confederate Monument”, also known as Chip, or “Our Confederate Soldiers”. It is located near the grounds of the Williamson County Courthouse in the center of our downtown roundabout on Main and Third. Installed in 1899, it was paid for and dedicated by the local chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. it is an Italian marble statue portraying a single Confederate soldier atop a tall column and base.

In about 2017, following similar actions around the country, a petition was circulated calling for its removal. Another petition to keep the monument was also started. Both petitions had gained thousands of signatures by the time the Tennessee Historical Commission ruled that the statue was technically the property of and under the control of the UDC.

During the process of installation, while raising the statue a “chip” was broken out of the soldier’s hat. Hence his given name, which is universally used to this day.

I did not sign a portion either way. I think I would have signed to retain him, given that it’s not celebrating a particular person as a “hero”, but as a reminder of the fact that so many young sons of the South lost their lives in the civil war.

A campaign to erect another statue on the square acknowledging and honoring the black soldiers who fought in the Civil War was successful a few years ago, called The Fuller Story. We have a complicated history, and it’s important to know all of it.

Day 37

Yesterday was a photo of “Chip”, our downtown monument to Confederate soldiers of the Civil War. . Today is the statue on the square dedicated to the 200,000 black soldiers who fought in the war … part of “The Fuller Story”.

“The Fuller Story” initiative was (and is) a community-driven project aimed at broadening the local historical narrative beyond the Civil War by highlighting the African American experience before, during, and after the conflict. It includes five educational markers, a U.S. Colored Troops (USCT) soldier statue, and focuses on reconciliation and inclusive history.

“March to Freedom” Statue: Unveiled in 2021, this bronze monument honors the nearly 200,000 U.S. Colored Troops (USCT) and stands on the public square.

Educational Markers: Five markers were installed in the public square, detailing the 1867 race riot, reconstruction, the Battle of Franklin, and the site of a former slave auction market.

The project was spearheaded by a diverse group including pastors Rev. Hewitt Sawyers, Rev. Chris Williamson, Rev. Kevin Riggs, and historian Eric Jacobson. Approximately 300 men from Williamson County enlisted in the U.S. Colored Troops, a vital part of local and broader Civil War History.

The markers detail that enslaved individuals were bought and sold at the downtown Franklin courthouse, which is now acknowledged on the square.

It’s gratifying to be downtown and see both locals and visitors from out town viewing the statue and reading the markers.

Day 38.

Just down the road. I pass this barn multiple times per week. It just sort of comforts me and makes me feel good about being here. As messed up as things are, we’ve still got a lot to place our hope in.

Day 39.

One of the loves of my life. Granddaughter Bonnie. Holding daddy’s hand.

Day 40

This was the first house we built in Nashville. Not our first house, but the first one we had built. Both Emma and the boys were born while we lived here. We basically designed … or at least picked out or customized everything about it from the ground up …. in 1988. Moved to Franklin in 1998 when Evan turned 3 …. to get in a better school situation. There are still things I miss about this one though . It was comfortable. Had a great back yard. And was great for entertaining inside and out, and for raising kids. We lived just a few doors down from Phil Keaggy.

Day 41

The Carter House State Historic Site is a historic house in Franklin, Tennessee. In that house, the Carter family, along with some neighbors, hid in the basement waiting for the second Battle of Franklin to end. During the battle the house was struck by thousands of confederate bullets. Over a thousand of these bullet holes still riddle the south facing wall of the house.

Prior to the fight, the house was taken over as the headquarters of the Twenty-Third Army Corps commanded by Brigadier General Jacob D. Cox.[3] Federal breastworks were erected just south of the home extending to both the east and west of Columbia Pike.

These are some of the canons on the historic grounds. By my count there are at least 13 canons now in or around downtown Franklin. We should be well set to defend against encroachers from Thompson Station or Spring Hill.

Day 42

This is Rodger Dale Parker, another of my coworkers at our company. At this point I think he may be our longest serving employee. I’ve known him going on 40 years. A lot of folks call him Rodger-Dodger. I always call him Mr Parker.

Rodger is a native of beautiful Craggie Hope, TN. Craggie Hope is a wide spot in the road along a sleepy back road out of Kingston Springs. It’s an unincorporated little spot, only about 100 souls, if that. For my hometown friends, it’s sort of like Shamrock, if Shamrock was all hills and hollers and twisty roads. . Gods Country.

He’s a Viet Nam Veteran, from some of the nastiest conflicts of the war, but doesn’t talk much about all that. I often find him at break time or lunch reading his bible… KJV of course.

Rodger and I often share amusing stories about growing up, and his stories are priceless. He told me today about the time his Granny gave him some valuable advice. “Rodger, be careful with that old ‘shine … unless you want the damn Infernal Revenue coming after you!” I haven’t had THAT much shine in my life, but I’ve had some from the general vicinity of Craggie Hope, from near the end of Parker Road, and it’s mighty fine. Hasn’t left me blind or touched in the head yet. Yet. Goes down smooth.

Rodger’s the guy I’d go to when I needed to find out how to season up a groundhog, and for advice on how long to smoke it. Yes, I’ve had a bit of BBQ groundhog, courtesy of Mr Parker and it ain’t bad. He often greets me by asking “John, do you like fried chickens???” (See my story “Night of the Chickens” at theverystuff.com, one of the stories I shared with him. )

He’s the head of our Panel Shop, and I SO appreciate his dedication to making sure all the custom control panels we build and ship all over the western hemisphere are accurate, well built, to the specs my Engineering Department sends out to the shop. He’s damn good at his job, and whenever he leaves our company we’ll lose an irreplaceable treasure of experience and commitment to quality and competence.

Mr Parker …. Simply one of the best.

Day 43

Nashville Hot Chicken. IYKYN. If you don’t t know ….

Anecdotally, Nashville Hot Chicken has been served in Nashville’s African-American communities for generations. The dish may have been introduced as early as the 1930s; however, the current style of spice paste covering the chicken may only date back to the mid-1970s. It is generally accepted that the originator of hot chicken is the family of André Prince Jeffries, owner of Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack. I’ve met her and talked to her, and she’s a hoot. She has operated the restaurant since 1980; before that time, it was owned by her great-uncle, Thornton Prince III. Jeffries says the development of hot chicken was an accident. Her great-uncle Thornton was purportedly a womanizer, and after a particularly late Saturday night out, his girlfriend at the time cooked him a fried chicken breakfast with extra pepper as revenge. Instead, Thornton decided he liked it so much that, by the mid-1930s, he and his brothers had created their own recipe and opened the Princes Chicken Shack.

I’ve tried “most” of the better known Hot Chicken places. They’re different in terms of both heat levels and specific spices blends. I have my favorites . I usually order “Hot”, wherever I go, and I can assure you they vary greatly. This was my lunch today. A breast quarter with grits and greens. The best part of the greens is drinking the “pot likker” afterward …. But that’s another story.

Day 44

This is “Rusty”. He’s almost 30 feet tall and stands sentry at one of the side entrances of The Factory, which I’ve posted about before. Made from industrial salvage parts from the Stove Works that formerly occupied this space.

Day 45

I could go on and on about this place, just down the road a piece from where we live now, and just a hop skip and a jump from where we lived the first 2+ decades of our married life. The Loveless Cafe.

Know literally worldwide for their fried chicken , their country ham, and especially their heavenly biscuits with house-made preserves … blackberry, strawberry, and my personal favorite, Peach. Seriously one f the best “Southern Food” places in America. Now for 75 years.

We went last night, I had eggs with country ham, red-eye gravy, cheese grits, hot black coffee. Followed up by a new offering, Thin Mint Cheesecake Tiramisu Pie. Because, why not? Live large and well my friends.

Day 46.

Many of you know I’m passionate about being part of my “Dads Groups’. Fathers of children and adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities. I currently do two groups per week. One local to Middle Tennessee, one more far flung. This is a few of my Tuesday group, with dads from all over. I love these men like brothers, because … well … we are.

Day 47

I love our Nashville Zoo it’s been great to watch it change and grow and morph through the years. From that fledgling wildlife park northeast of Nashville on I24 to the beautiful haven it is now for exotic animals from around the world.

I’m fortunate to work just around the corner from the main gate of the zoo, so I have a membership pass so I can often go over at lunch time and just walk around the property. One of my favorites just inside the entry gate is the habitat for the Hyacinth Macaws. These are the largest flighted parrots in the world, with wingspans up to 5 feet. They are monogamous, and mate for life. They have lifespans in excess of 50 years. It’s always a comfort to see these great blue birds. Beautiful plumage!

Day 48.

I saw a Prince Albert can in an antique shop. Immediately thought of my PaPa Shouse, my dad’s dad. He rolled his own cigarettes from one of these cans so often. He’d be sitting in his rocking chair, pull a can of Prince Albert out of the breast pocket of his bib overalls, along with a rolling paper, and without missing a beat in the conversation roll one with a practiced hand. I watched his ritual mesmerized.

There was always a stash of these, empty, in the in the other room (he only hat two rooms in his little house, no running wate), and at some point in the visit, dad would go grab a couple cans and we would go out to the old rail fence, set them up, back off a fair distance, and proceed to plink away at them with dads pistol. I can still remember the look and feel off the small bullet holes in those cans.

Day 49

Step by step, we make our way.

The Labyrinth is an ancient symbol of wholeness. The imagery of the circle and spiral combine into a meandering but purposeful journey and the Labyrinth represents a journey or path to our own center, with a return again out into the world.

Labyrinths have long been used as meditation and prayer tools and when we walk in one, it serves as a metaphor for life’s journey. It is a symbol that creates a sacred space and place that takes us out of our over-active ego to our spirit, and to ‘That Which is Within’.

The monster of the labyrinth lives inside us all. The insights of the labyrinth are there for anyone with courage and determination to claim.

Step by step, we make our way.

(Labyrinth in Leipers Fork).

Day 50

At the Halfway point of my 100 Day project. So I’m posting the Halfway Market and Diner. I’ve been eating at this place for a long, long time. In their old location, at the junction of Carters Creek Pike and Southall Road, they were a frequent stop of mine on Saturday morning excursions. One of the best country ham biscuits around. But you had to get there early, because they only made so many, and when they’re gone, they’re gone. Never fear though, because their sausage biscuits were mighty fine too.

Now they keep more traditional lunchtime hours, but they are one of the finest old Meat ‘n Three places around.