'DECORATION DAY WEEKEND'

One of the many flower arrangements I made for this year's Decoration Day Weekend

            This coming weekend is Decoration Day Weekend; our annual trip around Alabama and into Mississippi to go see dead folks. As odd as that might sound, it’s something my parents and I look forward to each and every year.

            We first visit Crane Hill, where my Momma’s people, the Pittmans and the Clays, have lived for generations. We replace last year’s weather-worn flowers with beautiful new floral arrangements on grandparents’ graves, and set a new American flag in front of my Papaw Pittman’s headstone in honor of his wartime service.

            From Crane Hill, it’s on to Pickens County, Alabama, where my Daddy and his brothers and sisters were all raised. At Pleasant Grove and Hargrove cemeteries, we decorate my Mamaw and Papaw Jennings’ and Grandma and Grandpa Hicks’ graves. And all the while, my Daddy has us laughing as he tells us, for the umpteenth time, about the time Grandma ended up astraddle of a big ol’ hog, ridin’ it backwards, hollerin’ “Help me, Will! Help me!” And how Grandpa Hicks couldn’t, for laughing so hard at her.

We also stop along the way to admire different things and places as we travel the old byways and dirt back roads. I’m one of the world’s worst for stopping to take pictures of seemingly mundane things that most folks wouldn’t give a second thought to, like the rusting old Coca Cola sign on an abandoned country store, a one-room clapboard-sided country pharmacy whose original druggist I later found out had been a local Confederate veteran, or a dilapidated farmhouse turned ‘deer camp’, surrounded by a dozen old travel trailers patiently awaiting the next hunting season. Yet, some of these turn out to be some of the most interesting photos I take all year.

Here and there we stop to visit with our living kin, as well. Whether it’s sharing a delicious home-cooked meal with my dear Aunt Mary or laughing and cutting up with my Uncle Jerry, we relish getting to see them, since some of 'em aren’t able to travel as much as they once could.

On over in Mississippi, we head out to Chickasaw County, an hour northwest of Columbus. It’s here, in Mississippi’s agricultural Black Belt, that my Daddy’s people have lived for generations. This is where my grandparents, my great-grandparents and their parents were all born and raised, where they met their true loves, lived out their lives, and ultimately took their last breaths. So, it’s understandable that, in a way, Chickasaw County feels more like home to me than anywhere else I’ve ever been.

Grandmother Tabitha's grave

We visit the local cemeteries there, cleaning grass clippings and fire ant beds away from graves, putting new flower arrangements on headstones, and sticking bright new Confederate flags into the ground of the graves of our ancestors that served in the War Between the States. I point out different tombstones, explaining who each person is and how exactly we're all related. And, no trip to the Pleasant Grove cemetery, in Atlanta, would be complete without me venturing off down the hill to the oldest section of the graveyard, to check on my 5^th-great-grandmother Tabitha, and to let her know that, even after 170-years, she’s not been forgotten.

What was once part of the John L. 'Jack' Jennings plantation, in Hohenlinden, MS

As the resident history nut and family historian, I'm frequently haulin' us off out into the sticks, to some small, little used, almost-forgotten burial ground so I can introduce my parents to more of our great-grandparents. Other times, I’m pointing out where this or that ancestor’s plantation once stood or where Great-great-grandpa So-and-so used to live back in the 1860’s, 70’s, or 80’s. That information is compliments of years and years of genealogical research.

'Waverly Mansion'

On this trip, we also get to enjoy the occasional historical attraction or roadside oddity. We’ve toured Waverly Mansion, a gorgeous antebellum plantation home near West Point, Mississippi; looked upon the ‘Face in the Courthouse Window’, in Carrollton, Alabama; had our pictures taken in the giant Adirondack chairs at Ashville, Alabama; and stood beside a 32-foot tall tin man on Jim Bird’s farm, outside of Forkland, Alabama. And rest assured, 2017 will be no exception. I've got a visit to Confederate General Joe Wheeler’s beloved plantation ‘Pond Spring’, in Courtland, Alabama, planned, along with a few other interesting and odd sights mapped out, as well, for this year's trip.

When at last we roll back in at the Jennings Farm, in Cohutta, late Sunday evening, we will be thoroughly worn out, having logged more than 800-miles in three-days, over rough secondary roads for the most of that distance. Yet, we will have once again paid homage to our grandparents and family, retold their stories, and made even more wonderful memories in doing so. And I think that that’s what Decoration Day Weekend is about the most.... the strengthening of and reveling in of our family’s wonderful heritage.

‘FISHING WITH AN OUTDOOR LEGEND’

Wade Bourne - passionate conservationist, outdoorsman, & reknowned outdoor writer

          I first saw him on an episode of ADVANTAGE OUTDOORS, the TV show he was the host of back then. He was down in Mississippi, with a couple or three good ol’ boys, chest-deep in a muddy river, noodling for big ol’ Flathead catfish. Although, it was the accents of his fishing partners that first caught my attention, it didn’t take but just a few minutes for me to become a big fan of him and his show. Here was an outdoor TV show host hunting and fishing the regular places, in the ways that the most of us regular folks do, instead of the once-in-a-lifetime exotic excursions that other outdoor shows typically showcased. This guy seemed like just a regular Joe, someone that’d be cool to be around, and I wanted to meet him. So.... what did I do?

A good producing pool

          I GOOGLED him, of course. I found an email address for him, and after a bit of correspondence (5-years’ worth, actually), not only did I finally get to meet him, but I actually got to fish with him!

          Now, I’d been telling him for years about my favorite ‘fishing hole’ the Conasauga River, so when he got asked to write an article for BASSMASTERS magazine on fishing for Redeye (Coosa) Bass, in Georgia, I was who he hollered at. Within minutes, we had everything set-up for a two-day fishing trip later that summer and were both looking forward to finally getting to fish together.

A typical Conasauga River Redeye (Coosa) Bass

          Upon his arrival in Cohutta, that July, it was if I was meeting an old friend instead of just making his acquaintance. He was one of the friendliest, most personable people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Soon after we got him settled in, we headed on over to my parents’ house, where we’d been invited to supper. Over a meal of fresh vegetables straight out of the garden, cornbread, and lots of sweet tea, we had a grand time, telling stories and laughing for hours. He fit right in with our family, and by the end of the evening, he had endeared himself to all that were there.

Where the first Redeye of the day was caught

         The next morning, we got an early start, putting-in on the river there at the little sawmill community of Conasauga; and before we could even get underway, my guest had hooked into his very first Redeye Bass. He remarked on the fight it put up once hooked, and deemed this catch a sign that we were to have a good day of fishing. And, Boy, was he right! For the rest of the day, we wore ‘em out, catching fish after fish. We swam small plastic tube jigs through eddies, bounced curly tails off of drop-offs, and stripped white streamers alongside grass beds, pulling in a fish on almost every cast. We caught fish until we were actually getting tired of catching fish. LOL

Redeyes go for flies, too, especially small streamers

         We took lunch that day on a shoal in the middle of the river, in the shade of the huge trees that line both river banks. I surprised him with sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, and you should’ve seen the grin on his face when he opened his to find thick-sliced bologna, red-ripe tomatoes, and lots of mayonnaise on white loaf bread. I had remembered his mentioning a long while back that that was one of his favorite sandwiches; so, early that morning, I had called up to Manis Grocery, our little town’s only store, and had Ben, the proprietor, make us up a couple for lunch.

Wade Bourne with a nice Spotted Bass

Throughout the day, we swapped stories, told some tall tales; he taught me a few tricks, and I showed him a couple of my own. Most important, though, we had a good time and we caught fish.... a lot of fish. We tried for a while to keep a running tally, but that didn't work. In the excitement of catching, we lost count. Our total for the day easily topped a hundred.

By the time we reached our take-out point at Easley Ford, our catches had gone from mostly Redeyes to mostly Spotted Bass, as we were on the downstream margins of the former’s habitat in the Conasauga River. As we glided under the old concrete span bridge that arched out over Easley Ford, we found ourselves sun-scorched and thoroughly worn-out, yet pleasantly satisfied with the excellent day of fishing we had been blessed with.

After a bit of bushwhacking to get back up on the road, we loaded up and called it a day, stopping briefly at the Beaverdale Superette for an ice-cold soft drink in a glass bottle; a time-honored tradition amongst me and mine after a long day on the river.

         The next day, with only half the day to fish, we headed up into the mountains of the Cherokee National Forest to wade fish the Conasauga’s upper Redeye Bass habitat. That morning, in those clear, cold pools there, we caught even more impressive fish than we had the day before. Here, they might’ve been a bit smaller than their brothers further downstream, but they more than made up for it with their vivid colors and the impressive fights they put up. And, for a second day in a row, the fishing gods were good to us.... for we wore ‘em out here, too. By noontime, it was time to call it a day and head back towards the house. My guest had a long trip ahead of him to get back home.

Above the very last pool we fished together that day, there’s a section of the river that’s just plumb full of big boulders that are a haven for Copperhead snakes; so much so, that normally we all avoid the area like the plague. This day, though, that pool was just too tempting, and we couldn’t resist wetting a line just one more time before we left.

One of those upstream Redeyes of the 2nd day

         So, in we waded, and immediately began reeling in Redeyes, one right after another. And, let me tell you.... the fishing WAS impressive. So, trust me when I say, to us, the risks were definitely worth the reward. And, as real men typically do when something starts to make us a bit nervous.... such as 3- and 4-foot-long pit vipers swimming around you.... we started cracking jokes, in an effort to break the tension.

After having watched three or four such snakes swim across the pool we were in, mere rod lengths both above and below us, he dared me to see if I could hook one with my next cast. I responded that I’d gladly do it, provided HE took it off the hook for me. With a big ol’ ear-to-ear grin, he cocked his wading stick back over his shoulder like a baseball bat and said, “All right! Have at!” And that’s how our fishing trip ended; two successful days of fishing, lots of laughs, and wonderful memories.

I found out, earlier this week, that Wade passed away in December. He had just come in from cutting his family a Christmas tree, when he collapsed, suffering a massive heart attack. I will cherish always the memories of that fishing trip, just as I will being able to have gotten to know him.

* Wade Bourne (1947-2016)

His name was one of the most recognized in the outdoors. He was a full-time outdoor broadcaster/writer whose works have appeared regularly before national listening, viewing, and reading audiences over the past four decades.

A veteran contributor to many of the nation's leading outdoor magazines, Wade was Editor-at-Large for Ducks Unlimited Magazine and Senior Writer for Bassmaster Magazine, with more than 3,000 articles published in outdoor magazines. He was also the author of six hunting and fishing books.

He was also the founder and host of the award-winning Wired2Fish/Hunt Radio, a syndicated fishing/hunting radio show that airs year-round throughout the U.S. on approximately 280 stations. For 16-consecutive years prior, he had hosted In-Fisherman Radio (north, south, and west editions), the largest syndicated outdoor radio show in North America; hosted/co-hosted Ducks Unlimited TV (Outdoor Channel, Pursuit Channel) for the past 10-years; and for 7-years before to that, he hosted the weekly hunting/fishing adventure series Advantage Outdoors TV on The Nashville Network (TNN).

He was inducted into the Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame, in 2003, and into the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame, in 2005. In October of 2014, Wade received the Southeastern Outdoor Press Association's Lifetime Achievement Award (only the seventh recipient of this award in SEOPA's 50-year history). And, in 2016, he received the prestigious Homer Circle Fishing Communicator Award from the Professional Outdoor Media Association/American Sport Fishing Association.

And, let's not forget his service to our country during the Vietnam War, as a bomber pilot, in the United States Air Force. Thank God for our veterans!

"A man's man, a man of honor and intelligence and ability and good humor, and also one
                who never took his own celebrity seriously." - Frank Sargeant, friend & colleague of Wade's

'KNOW YOUR HERITAGE'

"To Know Your Heritage Is To Know The Story Of You"
                                                                           - Barry D. Jennings

Your heritage is not simply names, dates, and place names set in ink on some paper chart. Your heritage is the story of who came before you, how they lived, how they died, and most importantly, the neat little bits of information that makes it all interesting.     

I know that not everybody’s a history nut, like I am.... but I’ve yet to see anybody that didn’t show at least a li’l interest when it comes to hearing about what their ancestors were like and some of the stuff they did back in their day.

There ain’t nothing more fascinating to people than other people, living in a different time, in different circumstances.... and when you know those people are your kin.... well.... that just seems to make it even more so.

Before I started digging into my own family’s history, I had always thought of my ancestors as just your average, every day, run-of-the-mill country folk; cotton farmers mostly, with a logger or two thrown in for good measure. Boy, was I wrong!

I can now boast that my ancestors were amongst the very first to settle in the New World. My 9^th-great-grandfather Captain John Thomas Clay, Jr. arrived at Jamestown, in February of 1613, aboard the ship ‘Treasurer’, and as a Grenadier in the King’s Army (which back then would’ve been their most elite group of soldiers), it’s not only probable, but highly likely that he was amongst those that captured/kidnapped the Indian princess Pocahontas, later that summer.

Then there was the case of one of his sons, my first ancestor of that line to be born in America, who later got himself all tangled up in America’s very first rebellion, taking up arms against the colonial government under Nathaniel Bacon, back in 1673.

The story of French Huguenot Bartholomew Dupuy's
               escape from France is absolutely spellbinding. 

          I also found out that one of my great-grandfathers was a French Huguenot, of all things. I would never have thought that. A much-respected Lieutenant in the King of France’s Household Guards, he and his family, with the covert assistance of the King, had narrowly escaped religious persecution and possible death at the hands of the Catholic church, finally settling in Colonial Virginia, right around 1700.

One of my favorite stories, though, is of the first of my Jennings ancestors to come to America. Captain William Jennings, Sr. was a decorated officer in the British Regular Army. He had served in the British Indies, as well as, the colonial Indian Wars, before finally settling in Colonial Virginia, around the year 1700. There, he owned a tobacco plantation and tavern, raised a total of ten children, and led a very long and productive life; finally passing away at the ripe old age of 99-years.

Because of his strong disapproval of the revolutionary processes then going on in the British American colonies, as well as, his pride in his own service rendered to the Crown, Captain Jennings left instructions that he should be buried in his British Army uniform. Well.... his family did their level best to comply. They really did. Capt. Jennings was laid to rest with his sword by his side.... but the uniform.... well.... it had to be draped over his body instead of put on him. You see, he had grown excessively fat by the time of his death, and it just wouldn’t fit anymore. LOL

         Make no mistake, though.... as loyal to the Crown as ol’ Grandpappy Jennings was, his sons and grandsons were just as dedicated to the cause for freedom, with every single one of ‘em taking up arms against the British and/or rendering aid and supplies to the American forces. I had other grandfathers that also served - Clays, Pittmans, Lockharts, Springers, et cetera – some were in the Continental Line, others amongst various militia units; many were privates, some sergeants, while others were officers.

WOW!! My family’s history ain’t near as bland as I first thought! And that’s just a few examples out of the many, many generations of my family that I've researched. As it turns out, my ancestors actually played some pretty cool parts throughout the past 400-years of American history. They were the hardy settlers that, despite near constant Indian attacks, were ever moving westward, opening up new lands for settlement. They cleared land for planting and built homes and farms and even plantations. There were some small farmers, Bible-thumpin’ preachers, one-room schoolhouse teachers, millers, and even some wealthy slave owners and political figures. They volunteered for or were conscripted to fight for the Confederacy; their families back at home suffered through four bloody years of a not-so-civil war. They survived Reconstruction, two World Wars, the Great Depression, and the Civil Rights turmoil of the 1960’s; not to mention scores of other lesser unnamed events. 

After Grandma passed away, 'Paw' Jennings
                came to live with his eldest son and his family.

          My ancestors were independent-minded, God-fearing people, who held their religion and family above all else. With just a little bit of digging around, it’s easy to see that my family never seemed to have much need for orphanages nor nursing homes, as they always seemed to come together to take care of their own. That same dedication to family is still so very strong in our family, even today, and that’s one of the things I’m most proud of as a Jennings.

My Momma has asked me several times before, how on Earth do I remember all that I do about our families’ histories. My answer is simple.... their stories are so unbelievably interesting. It’s almost like reading a favorite book or watching a great movie; the more you discover about the central figures, the more you want to learn about them.

Knowing and understanding details from our families’ histories give us a deeper, fuller appreciation of where we’ve come from and who we are as a person.A big part of who we are, as individuals, comes directly from our ancestors. Not only do we inherit our looks and temperament from them, it’s also where we get much of the attitudes and outlooks towards many things that we have. It’s not surprising then, that research suggests that when we have intimate knowledge of our family history, we feel more grounded and self-confident compared to individuals who don’t.

The stories are there, folks. With just a bit of effort on your part, you can begin uncovering long-forgotten details about your family’s history. I should probably warn you, though. It can become addictive; this learning where you come from.

'THE TAYLEIGH GRACE'

          She eases out of the inlet into the main lake, the wind catches her sails and she leans over ever so gracefully as her bow knifes through the chop of the waves. My hand at the tiller, I also control the main-sheet, trimming the sails to their maximum advantage. Skimming o'er the water, both mainsail and jib billowed full, no sound save for the wind singing through the rigging; it's as close as I'll ever come to flying like a bird, and I can't help but to grin. Sailing is exhilarating, relaxing, challenging, and really not all that complicated, but best of all.... it’s just plain fun.

          Sailing has always fascinated me. Being able to travel on nothing but the wind has always intrigued me; no noisy motor, nor the cost of fuel, just the quiet power of a steady breeze.

          Add to it, romantic images conjured up by old seafaring stories and swashbuckling movies, and one can’t help but dream of standing on the rolling deck of their own sailing vessel, the black flag flapping in the breeze, and a tropical island on the horizon. Me, however.... the idea of a boat I don’t have to paddle is what I like best. LOL

          Recently, we traveled to sunny south-central Florida to purchase a sailboat. She’s nothing big or spectacular, just a simple 17-foot daysailer to sail the local impoundments in. A Watkins boat, she’s a good sailer, quick and light; handles well, even in the lightest of breezes; and she’s a downright pleasure to sail. I’ve already come to enjoy her immensely.

'The TayLeigh Grace'

          As most of you well know, all good boats deserve a good moniker, and mine is no exception. After much contemplation, I decided to name her the ‘TayLeigh Grace’, after my three grand-girls, Taylor, Maddie Leigh, and Lexi Grace. You should’ve seen the smiles that one got me.

          Come summer, we’ll sail her out to ‘our’ little island on Parksville Lake for daylong picnic and swimming excursions with the grands; there’ll be nighttime cruises under star-filled skies on beautiful Lake Blue Ridge; and daylong lessons in learning to cope with large waves and strong current on the Tennessee and Hiwassee Rivers.

          And someday, when I've sufficiently acquired the needed skills and experience, I intend to sail a 30’ sloop down the Georgia coast; exploring the barrier islands, their hidden inlets, and the huge expanses of marsh. I daydream of being rocked to sleep by the incoming tide, waking to the sound of gulls and terns soaring overhead, and watching dolphins up close. I want to sip coffee on deck of a mornin’ as I watch the wild horses on Cumberland Island frolic in the surf, comb deserted beaches for hidden treasures, and explore the overgrown trails of long forgotten island plantations. At least.... that’s the plan.

          Until then, though, I reckon sailing the ‘TVA seas’ will have to do. We’ll grill hotdogs rather than shrimp, under the shade of pine trees instead of live oaks and palms; and rope swings will have to suffice in place of surf and sand.... for now, that is. Oh, well.... in any case, we’ll still be sailing, chasing fun and adventure, freshwater style.

‘LEONARD’S LOSER IS....’

          Back when I was growin’ up, tunin’ in to 'Leonard’s Losers' on a fall Saturday mornin’ or afternoon was part of bein’ a football fan in The South. Leonard was a genuine hoot to listen to and such a fun part of fall football life back then.

Each week, in a voice that dripped of Southern fried chicken, grits, and magnolia blossoms, 'Leonard Postosties’, in his comedic rural delivery style, predicted which college teams would lose that week. Even when he was picking against your own team, he still made it entertainin'. His radio programs always opened with Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs’ recording of Foggy Mountain Breakdown, then his sidekick came on to introduce him:

          "This is Percy Peabody tellin' 'ya it's time for Leonard's Losers. With the world's greatest football prognosticator.... tell 'em 'bout, Lenny!"

          Using alternate nicknames for college teams, Leonard claimed that he possessed a “little smart pill machine” to come up with his prognostications. His bombastic predictions were unique, to say the least, and, believe it or not, accurate about 80% of the time.

          Best of all, Leonard's Losers treated college football as it should be treated, with irreverence and disrespect whenever possible, overindulging in the use of team nicknames and makin' 'em appear as ridiculous as they truly are. For example, "Down in Tuscaloosa, Bear Bryant's University of Alabama elephants are going to run into the (name your team) and find their tusks a little loosa."

The 'Water Walker' himself....
Coach Paul 'Bear' Bryant

          Boy, I sure wish Ol’ Leonard was still with us. Not only do I miss hearin’ his show, but I surely would like to know what his prediction for tomorrow’s big game between Alabama and Georgia would be. They’re both dang good teams, and without a doubt, tomorrow’s game is gonna be a good 'un.

          Who knows? He was a UGA graduate and avid Bulldog fan, so if’n he were still around, maybe his prediction would be like the one he gave for the 1976 match-up between the two:

“The Super Detergent Salesmen from Tuscaloosa will visit the Sanford Kennels to try out a new Flea and Tick Soap

on Vince Dooley’s K-9s, and if the Dogs ain’t ready for this wash job they could get a sudsing they’ll remember for a long time. The Water Walker from Alabama is famous for puttin’ a hurtin’ on the Bulldogs, and he has the equipment to do it again, but the Bear might be surprised by the new Bulldog Breed he’ll run into on his trip to Athens. The Red Clay Hounds are hungry and fond of Elephant meat, so I’m inclined to think the Pachyderms will get lightened up considerably in their hindquarters. Leonard’s Loser: Bama, by 7."

Georgia Bulldog's legendary Coach Vince Dooley

          Lawd, have mercy! Was he ever right about that one! Georgia shut us out then, 21 to zip. Let’s just hope it ain’t that bad, again. Especially seein’ how much grief I give my brothers about bein’ Dawg fans. LOL

But, then again, when it comes to SEC football... ANYTHING can happen on any given Saturday. So, Leonard’s prognostication this time around might would actually sound more like this instead:

          “Alabama versus Georgia. This week, Nick Saban's
          Tuscaloosa Tuskers head to the Sanford Dog House where Mark
          Richt's Red Clay Hounds plan to throw a blackout of their own
          for the under-dog elephants. Still smartin’ from the drubbin’
          the Magnolia State Rebs gave ‘em, two weeks ago, the
          pachyderms have no intentions of another such on-the-road
          repeat. Rivalry is not the only storm brewin’ in Athens, though,
          and with all the expected rain, this game is gonna be a
          muddy mess. It’ll be a runnin’ game for sure, and if the Dawgs
          aren’t careful, they’ll find themselves all wet after the Big Red
          Tide rolls in. Leonard’s Loser: Gawja, by 3.”

          But really, there ain't no tellin' how it’ll go, tomorrow afternoon. Like I said... they’re both dang good teams, and without a doubt, tomorrow’s game is gonna be a good ‘un. Still.... it sure would be nice to hear Leonard on the radio just one more time, sayin'....

          “That's all for this week. I'll betcha I bagged all the winners, but I wouldn't bet the house. This is Leonard Postosties sayin’ ‘So long, neighbors.”

          “Get me outta here, Percy!”

Click here to hear a clip from LEONARD'S LOSERS

‘SUMMER WANES’

The days are gettin’ shorter, the air and skies more clearer, and the temperature a bit milder with the passin’ of each day. Muscadines and pears are ripening; the second cuttin’ of hay is underway, and best of all, the kids are back in school. Summer wanes, folks. Summer wanes.

          Now, that’s not an entirely bad thing, either.... unless’n you happen to be one of those folks that live to be on the lake or at poolside, or.... you’re one them kids what’s back in school. LOL

          The end of summer, though, means Friday nights spent pullin’ for your local high school football team, listenin’ to the marchin’ band, and makeshift suppers from the stadium’s concession stand. SEC football on Saturdays, where you pull for ‘your’ team regardless of how good, or bad, a season they’re a havin’. Roll Tide Roll!

          The leaves have already started to turn, and before you know it, the mountains hereabouts will look as colorful as a bowl of Fruity Pebbles cereal. And, with Fall comes Praters Mill, the Apple Festival, and Coker Creek’s Autumn Gold Festival.... handmade crafts, toe-tappin’ bluegrass music, cloggin’, and hot apple cider. Also, comes the annual trek to Burt’s Pumpkin Farm to pick out a pumpkin or two, take a hay ride, and eat a hot fried apple pie. And then, the next thing you know, it’ll be time for the fair.... brightly-lit thrill rides, carnies with their ‘odds-stacked-against-you’ games of chance, blue cotton candy, caramel apples, and livestock exhibits.

          Did you realize this past Saturday was openin’ day of dove season? Hunters in shorts and camo t-shirts were posted along the edges of tree lines or by well-positioned round bales of hay in open fields, shotguns at the ready, watchin’ for the most acrobatic, had-to-hit birds that ever flew over a millet field, and by all accounts, the bird count was pretty good, this year. And before you know it, it’ll be deer season.... hunters in head-to-toe camouflage, blaze orange safety vests, headed out to hunting camp. Lawd, I can almost taste the deer tenderloin and biscuit already!

          Oh, and let’s not forget Halloween.... black cats and witches, Jack O’Lanterns, Trick or Treatin’, and spook houses.... nor Thanksgiving, either.... turkey and dressing, pumpkin pie, collegiate football rivalries, and the MACY’S Thanksgiving Day Parade.

A Cataloochee Valley Bull Elk

           Best of all, though, is the month of ‘Camptober’.... you might know it better as October, but to me and mine, it’s the month we spend most weekends camping. In Cataloochee, we get to see and hear the Elk bugling, and at Cades Cove, we enjoy watching the deer and bears and other wildlife, some of which occasionally walk right through the middle of our campsites.

          We go to Tellico for the solitude and peace and quiet of sitting next to the North River, drinking in the smells and colors of autumn. And we’ve found that the sunsets and sunrises atop Huckleberry Bald are second to none.

Crisp, cool mountain air, flannel shirts that smell of wood smoke and the outdoors, big breakfasts of biscuits and gravy, pancakes and bacon washed down with steamin’ hot coffee, bluebird days spent hiking the Southern Highlands or simply sittin’ in the sunshine readin’ a good book, hearty suppers of homemade chili and cornbread, followed by S’mores and scary tales told around a cracklin’ campfire that glows a gorgeous red.... that’s what Fall is all about.

          Like I said before, folks.... Summer’s waning, and Fall is on its way.

‘MY COUNTRY TIS OF THEE’

          I LOVE AMERICA!!  It’s the land of my ancestors, my grandfathers and grandmothers, who helped build this great nation. This is MY country. It’s where I make my home, and I’m so very, very proud of her.... ALWAYS!

For good or bad, for better or worse, these here United States of America are THE BEST place in the whole world to live in. Yes, sir.... I know things ain’t perfect, but they’re still a dang sight better than anywhere else I ever heard tell of.

Some say this country's goin' to Hell in a hand basket. They cite current events from the news headlines. Well.... I'm here to tell you.... it may seem like it some days, but it just ain't so.

Tybee Island, GA Lighthouse Station

Ever since Tommy Jefferson penned the Declaration of Independence 239-years ago, this country has gone through and survived a whole lot worse than anything we’re lookin’ at, nowadays. A vicious Civil War, two global World Wars, a Great Depression, Integration, multiple terrorist-attacks, plus a whole lot more.... yeah.... I’m thinkin’ we’ve got this. What’s goin’ on nowadays ain’t nothin’ compared to what all this country has weathered, so far.

Where does this, my unwavering faith in America, come from, you might ask? It comes from my faith in her citizens and the infinite wisdom and foresight of our Founding Fathers.

WWII - 'The Greatest Generation'

 The American people are a breed apart from all others on this, God’s Green Earth. We’re proud, defiant, and resilient. We never give up, and we never back down. When a crisis arises, whether on the national-level or local, we come together as a family, regardless of our differences, to stand by one another during that time of need. For the time being, we are simply Americans.... not black or white, rich or poor, Democrat or Republican.... just Americans.

Despite what today’s agenda-driven media might try to tell you or how wishy-washy our elected officials may act, at times, the American people themselves are just as patriotic, today, and determined to preserve their freedoms and way of life as their grandparents and great-grandparents were before them.

'Our Founding Fathers'

 As for our Founding Fathers.... ol’ George Washington and the boys were arguably THE BRIGHTEST minds of theirs and our times. Dedicated to a higher purpose, they excelled in creating a republic ‘of The People, for The People, and by The People’, that’s not only designed to, but is destined, to last throughout the ages, provided that we adhere to the basic framework they laid down for us.

That, My Friend, is what fuels my unwavering faith in this great nation of ours. "My Country tis of Thee, Sweet Land of Liberty, Of Thee I Sing!"

239-years and still goin’ strong!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!!!