Tag Archives: Natchez Trace

The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 18

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 8, 2026- We told Hana that it was important for us all to keep quiet, while a workman was doing a sonic test, in different parts of the downstairs. She was very careful to stay quiet, until she knew he was finished. Then she had all kinds of things to say about her lunch, of which she ate every bite.

Hana was surprisingly attentive to what he was saying. Most infants don’t attend very well to adults, other than their closest family members. She wants to at least hear what people are saying. It may stay in the back of her mind, until some day in the future, when she will recall hearing it somewhere. and put it to use. I’ve had that happen. She is also very much attached to certain books, my Baha’i prayer books among them. We spent about fifteen minutes, this morning, with my turning to random pages of “Baha’i Prayers”, and her looking at them with a fair intensity.

HANA’S NOTE- I feel happy when I hear Papa saying prayers. I also want to make it easier for my Mommy and Daddy, so I don’t get into mischief, even when it seems like it would be fun.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2022 I got less than a year with the Saturn Vue. It took me north and east to Massachusetts, and two visits with my mother, then to coastal Maine, and on to North Sydney, NS, and then from Channel-Port aux Basques, NL,on up to L’Anse aux Meadows, at Newfoundland’s northern tip, south and east to St. John’s, and back across to Nova Scotia, then clear to Mountaintop, PA. That is a town where my brother and his family once lived, and I felt a bit of nostalgia, having visited them there in the mid-1990s. When I was on my way out of Mountaintop, passing through its nearest southern neighbour, on the way to visit my niece and her family, I was stopped at a traffic light. BAM! A lady had fallen asleep at the wheel and rammed into the jeep behind me, which was then pushed into the Saturn. The light turned green and I led the way to a safe place for the three of us to stop and wait for the police. The jeep and the rearmost vehicle were attached at the bumper. The police officer looked at Saturn and said there was no damage to the exhaust or gas line, so I was free to go.

I continued on, to Exton, where my niece and her husband grilled some burgers and I relaxed for a time. I then went to Oley, where it was Dave Glick’s birthday (as well as Aram’s) and enjoyed a cake, coffee and conversation, then spent the night, as I often have. Next came a two-day stay in Crossville, TN at the home of friends Laureen and Chuck, followed by the State Capitol and Parthenon, in Nashville, a segment of Natchez Trace, from Nashville to Hohenwald, Once there, I found a pizza place open on that Sunday night, had a decent meal and went on to Florence and Muscle Shoals, AL. Mississippi, Louisiana and east Texas followed, without any indication of trouble. I spent three days with Aram and Yunhee, in Grapevine, and made the rest of my way to Prescott. Then I took Saturn to my regular auto body shop. It was pronounced totaled. Maybe it was the initial collision, or the wear and tear of a seemingly uneventful drive homeward-or maybe both. I turned the warhorse over to my insurance company, got a settlement with the PA woman’s insurance agent and bought KIA Sportage.

Some presences in life are rich, but fleeting. So it has been with all three of the Saturns I’ve owned.

The Road to Diamond, Day 168: Resilience

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 15, 2025, Parsons, TN- In the open garage of a country home, I set the box containing a plant, that was gifted by my hosts in Oley, PA to mutual friends who live about two hours east of here. As I was getting ready to pull out of the circular driveway, one of those friends pulled in on the other side. A joyful hug and fifteen-minute catch-up ensued. I learned that friend’s husband, suffering from a serious disease, is showing signs of resilience. Time will tell if he pulls through, though given his wife’s persistence and determination to treat the disease with natural medicine, it is entirely possible that he will.

My hosts in Oley said that my visits are those of encouragement. That does my heart good, as my energy is geared that way. It always has been my mission in life to help others realize their goals; my own goals, not so much, though being on my own, these past fourteen years, has tempered that self-abnegation, a fair amount. I suppose that is only fair.

I made a brief return visit to Broad Porch Coffee House, the most recent successor to Artful Dodger, the former Harrisonburg cafe where a couple of long-gone friends helped me get my bearings and reclaim my own worthiness as a human being, some twelve years ago. Broad Porch is a busier place than Dodger was, but I get much the same vibe. After a brief breakfast, I was on the way back south. The plant had to be delivered, today, and in one piece.

I checked out downtown Roanoke, a city I have pretty much bypassed on previous drives down the Spine. It, and Staunton, the next town south of Harrisonburg, would be worth a day or two of exploration each, on future backs and forths. From Roanoke, down through Bristol and the out skirts of Knoxville, plant and I continued. In Crossville, we found her new home, and the above conversation took place.

Now, I rest, in the crossroads of Land Between the Lakes and Natchez Trace. Not far from here is Loretta Lynn’s Ranch. As I now have a different mission, getting to my little family’s place in Grapevine, tourism is off the agenda. There’s a lot to do around Parsons, according to a fellow guest who frequents this motel, but I will save that for later, as well.

The bright orange flower and the resilient couple will keep on showing the world that life is ever about bouncing back-God willing and the creek don’t rise.

The Parthenon, Natchez Trace, and The Sanctity of Family

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel, Uncategorized

July 10, 2022, Florence, AL- The woman, standing 5’2”, and looking for all the world like a present-day Madonna, arrived at her family’s gathering, and instantly commanded the room. Her strapping teenaged son, who had been alternating between being a responsible big brother and goofing around, for the benefit of the three girls at the teenagers’ table, straightened up with a brief, sharp glance from Mama. Her husband, likewise, exercised a measure of control- distributing portions of food and drink from the adults’ table. to the teens and the younger children. The after-church dinner thus proceeded smoothly, in the small, cozy southern Tennessee eatery. I sensed, though, that there was nothing but love in this family-no patriarchy, per se, just a devoted couple who treasure all their children, and one another.

I had left my friends’ house, in a bucolic section of Crossville, a little after 10 a.m., stopping for a few photographs along the route I had taken to yesterday’s Food Truck event. The most breathtaking was this view of Sparta, TN, from an overlook.

Sparta, TN from U.S. 70

I was given an inkling to spend a bit of time in Nashville, a city that I have tended to overlook, in many of the journeys across our home continent. So, a brief visit was first made to the Tennessee State Capitol.

Tennessee State Capitol building, Nashville

I headed out of downtown, along a route that took me to The Parthenon, a recreation of the original building by that name, in Athens, Greece. Tennesseans treasure the Classical Age, and this museum is the centerpiece of Centennial Park, a vast and salubrious gathering place for all of Nashville. This lush urban park was dedicated in 1897, one year after the centenary of Tennessee’s statehood. Parthenon has two floors: The first hosts special collections of art; the present exhibit being selections from the private collection of James M. Cowan, a Tennessee native and businessman base din the Chicago area. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5e305abfabc0e4424fd1454a/t/5f0ceb6694be7a33f9f830bf/1594682228862/15139+Parthenon+Cowan+brochure_PROOF+%281%29.pdf

On the second floor, there stands an impressive statue of the Greek goddess Athena. Here are some scenes of the lady, the building and the park itself.

Nashville’s Parthenon, seen from the west
Lengthwise view of the Parthenon’s outer walkway
Statue of Greek goddess Athena, Parthenon of Nashville
Information about statue of Athena Parthenos

The true circumstances of this woman’s life are lost in the mists of time; yet it is clear that she had a powerful personality, being influential in a variety of areas, from education and craftsmanship to the conduct of warfare. That such personages were dubbed gods and goddesses, by pastoral people, is not surprising.

I wandered about the park itself, after spending about a half hour in the museum, which was about to close, anyway. Here’s Lake Watauga, just north of the Parthenon.

Lake Watauga, Centennial Park, Nashville
Lake Watauga, west shore
Central Garden, Centennial Park

After this long overdue attention to the delights of Nashville, I headed west and took in a sliver of Natchez Trace Parkway, which I encountered while looking for Loveless Cafe, a small restaurant southwest of Nashville. The Trace runs for 440 miles, from Nashville to Natchez, and offers a fine cross-section of Southern wilderness.

View from a northern bridge, Natchez Trace Parkway
Duck River Bluff, Natchez Trace Parkway
Trail to Jackson Falls, Natchez Trace Parkway

The Falls themselves were a trickle, as were other waterfalls in the area. The South could use more rain, as could any number of places. I left the Parkway and spotted a sign for Hohenwald, a town whose name means “High Forest”, in German. It has a sanctuary for elephants and is a haven for people in recovery. It is also home to very devout people, including the family mentioned above. The women and girls were conservatively dressed; the men and boys looked more like they had been working a bit. Nonetheless, they were all very relaxed and could have been any close-knit family, anywhere-an attractive, happy bunch. The very sweet waitress took good care of all of us, and it made for a pleasant end to a solemn (Martyrdom of the Bab) but hopeful day. I came to this northern Alabama town, on the Tennessee River, around 9:30.

I will long remember the strong women, both real and stuff of legend, encountered today. It was interesting that, just before leaving Centennial Park, I encountered two young men who claim to worship God the Mother.