ROGERSVILLE IS THE SECOND-OLDEST TOWN IN TENNESSEE, NOT DANDRIDGE! (published 8-7-2021)

5/8/2023 addendum: On the 77th anniversary of VE Day (5/8/1945), I updated the links to the websites cited, and I improved the format of this original 8/7/2021 article. I still await proof, if there is any, that confirms that Dandridge is the second-oldest town by date settled, not by date established. This article still confirms that Rogersville is the second-oldest town in Tennessee by date settled!

Introduction

The most recent article from 7/25/2021 mentioned six working documents. The oldest of them, which started on 3/28/2021, is updated, finalized, and published today!

This is a friendly howdy to our fine friends in Jefferson County! I win the “which town is oldest” war! Y'all are still my friends, even if you are wrong!

Later today, “the gang” is finally getting together in person! The last gathering was on Saturday, 2/15/2020. Among other factors, the new cold virus (i.e., “global pandemic” or Corona Myopia) has been hindering us.

This article is published today to add fuel to the conversational fodder! If “the gang” doesn't read it, before we get together, then I'll mention it! I love each member of “the gang!” We always have fun together. For decades, we have had joking arguments about which town is the second-oldest in Tennessee. I win! The following is the proof!

Tennessee Statehood

First, let's set the stage. Tennessee became a state on June 1, 1796. Source: “Tennessee,” A&E History, by Editors, updated 8/21/2018. That's why the media were bragging about Tennessee on June 1st this year. Tennessee has been a state for 225 years.

By the way, June 1st is the beginning of meteorological summer. Astronomical summer begins on June 20. I prefer to follow meteorological seasonal patterns.

As a personal aside, June 1st was Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's last work day. Her summer vacation has started. It will end on August 10th. She will return to “hitting a lick” on the last “dog day” of summer, as mentioned in the most recent article.

95 Tennessee Counties in Chronological Order

Let's continue to Tennessee's 95 counties. The beginning date for each county is listed below in chronological order. Sources: “Education Outreach,” Tennessee State Library and Archives: Education Outreach Program; Tennessee Blue Book; "Table of Contents: 5 List of Tennessee Counties,” under “History and Facts of Tennessee Counties,” My Counties; and 2009-2010 Tennessee Blue Book, Section VI – Tennessee, Origin of County Names (a PDF file).

1777–1799, 18 counties:
1777, Washington
1779, Sullivan
1783, Davidson & Greene
1786, Sumner
1787, Hawkins. The exact date is 1/6/1787.
Source: “Hawkins County,” Tennessee Encyclopedia, by Henry R. Price, last updated 3/1/2018.
1792, Jefferson & Knox
1794, Sevier
1795, Blount
1796, Carter, Grainger, Montgomery, & Robertson
1797, Cocke
1799, Smith, Williamson, & Wilson

1801–1849, 61 counties:
1801, Anderson, Claiborne, Jackson, & Roane
1803, Dickson, Rutherford, & Stewart
1806, Campbell, Overton, & White
1807, Bedford, Bledsoe, Franklin, Hickman, Maury,

Rhea, & Warren
1809, Giles, Humphreys, & Lincoln
1817, Lawrence, Marion, Morgan, & Wayne
1819, Hamilton, Hardin, McMinn, Monroe, Perry,

& Shelby
1821, Carroll, Henderson, Henry, & Madison
1823, Dyer, Fentress, Gibson, Hardeman,

Haywood, McNairy, Obion, Tipton, & Weakley
1824, Fayette
1835, Benton & Lauderdale
1836, Bradley, Cannon, Coffee, Johnson, Marshall,

& Meigs
1837, DeKalb               1839, Polk
1840, Van Buren          1842, Macon
1843, Lewis                  1844, Grundy & Hancock
1845, Decatur              1849, Scott

1850–1879, final 16 counties:
1850, Union                 1854, Putnam
1855, Cumberland       1856, Cheatham
1857, Sequatchie
1870, Clay, Hamblen, Lake, Loudon, & Trousdale
1871, Crockett, Houston, & Moore
1875, Unicoi
1879, Chester & Pickett

Jonesborough is the Oldest Town in Tennessee.

It is well known that Jonesborough is the oldest town in Tennessee. “History,” The Town of Jonesborough, Tennessee, beside “Jonesborough’s Timeline,” states, “1779 Jonesborough is Established: Jonesborough, the oldest town in Tennessee, is established seventeen years before Tennessee was granted statehood.”

Jonesborough was settled ten years earlier, in 1769. The same website confirms, beside “1769 English Colonists Move into the Region,” that Jonesborough was settled in 1769, when “William and Lydia Bean, the first permanent white settlers, built a cabin on the Watauga River in Northeast Tennessee. New settlers begin to come into the area from Virginia and North Carolina.”

Please note that Jonesborough was settled in 1769 and established in 1779. A town is settled before it is established.

Rogersville is the Second-Oldest Town in Tennessee.

Settled in 1775, Rogersville is the second-oldest “settled” town in Tennessee. “Visitors,” the official website for the Town of Rogersville, TN, states, “Rogersville is a town in, and the county seat of, Hawkins County, Tennessee, United States. It was settled in 1775, by the grandparents of Davy Crockett, and is the second-oldest town in the state.” The official website states that Rogersville is the second-oldest town in Tennessee.

“Hawkins County,” Tennessee Encyclopedia, by Henry R. Price, last updated 3/1/2018, confirms that Rogersville was established in 1789, fourteen years after being settled:

In 1789, Amis presented a petition from the community to the North Carolina General Assembly to establish a town at the Hawkins Court House site and to name the town Rogersville. Approval of the petition, which was granted on November 7, 1789, empowered county commissioners to lay out a town in half-acre lots, with convenient streets and lots reserved for public buildings.

Dandridge is the Third-Oldest Town in Tennessee.

Both settled and founded in 1783, Dandridge is the third-oldest “settled” and “founded” town in Tennessee. To my Jefferson County friends, the following is the proof that settles our decades-old dispute!

The official Town of Dandridge website introduces itself, in error, by stating, “Welcome to Dandridge, Tennessee: 'Tennessee’s Second Oldest Town.'” At least the town's introduction places “Tennessee's Second Oldest Town” in quotation marks, since the statement is not correct.

Scrolling to the bottom of that introductory page, the “History” section states, ”Dandridge was founded around 1783 when the settlers came across the Appalachian Mountains moving west.”

“Jefferson County,” Tennessee Encyclopedia, by Estle P. Muncy, last updated 3/1/2018, confirms, “The first permanent settlement at Dandridge dates to 1783; the village became the county seat in 1793.”

Conclusion

Dandridge was both settled and founded in 1783. Rogersville was settled in 1775, eight years before Dandridge. Of course, Rogersville was established in 1789, six years after Dandridge.

To our Jefferson County “gang” members, Rogersville was settled before Dandridge! I win! Yes, Rogersville was established six years after Dandridge.

A town's establishment date is a point of triviality. For example, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I live in the settlement of Corryton (or “Corrytonvegas,” as I call it). “John Sawyers, a Revolutionary War veteran, settled in the vicinity of what is now Corryton in 1785. . . . In 1887, a developer named Corryton Woodbury purchased property surrounding the rail depot to grow the community into a suburban town.” Source: “Corryton, Tennessee,” Wikipedia, which references (on Google Books): Miller, Larry (2001), Tennessee Place Names; Indiana University Press, page 51; ISBN 0-253-33984-7; retrieved 7/25/2020. I have seen the highway markers that confirm Corryton was settled in 1785, two years after Dandridge. The little town of Corryton does exist. It simply has not yet been “established” or “founded.”

If “the gang” members from Jefferson County can prove that Dandridge was settled before Rogersville (1775), then I will retract my victory. Otherwise, my victory is settled (pardon the pun), in a joking manner, of course.

Either way, Rogersville and Dandridge have both been around longer than Tennessee has been a state! On that, both towns have bragging rights!

We will see y'all (“the gang”) this afternoon! Love y'all! Mean it!

What was in the Photograph that I Took on 7-20-2021? (published 7-25-2021)

Introduction

Howdy, y'all! This website is viewed on average about 200 to 300 times a day, which is not bad. I see total views by nation and date. I can't see specific viewers. Viewer confidentiality is secured here, far better than on a social media platform! I hope that articles here encourage, entertain, and help those who drop by. Recently, daily views have dropped a little into the 100 to 200 range. That's due to my laziness! Since January this year, I've been writing nine to twelve articles a month. Before this article, I had written only two this month. I'll try to do better!

Sidetrack: the Dog Days of Summer

I hope y'all are enjoying the dog days of summer! (I'm sorry, Molly, our ol' puppy!) I am talking primarily to regional readers. As the wise man said, “It's hot! It's d-hot!”

The “dog days of summer” occur when the sun matches the location of Sirius (Greek “Σειριος,” meaning "scorcher"). Sirius is the brightest star visible from Earth. It is part of the constellation Canis Major (meaning “big dog” in Latin). That's why folks call Sirius the Dog Star. Sirius aligns with the sun annually from July 3rd to August 11th. That's why July 3rd to August 11th are called the “dog days of summer.” I learned this decades ago. The Farmers' Almanac is my source. Remember, Sirius is the star. SiriusXM is a way to listen to the radio. That's a big difference!

As we, in northeast Tennessee, are enduring the “dog days of summer,” we also see smoke in the air. The smoke is coming from the fires in the western part of the country. Local television news media have been talking about the smoke and the “air quality index” since last Thursday. Here's one and another local news story. I saw the smoke earlier than three days ago. I can predict the weather, by being outside, looking, feeling, and smelling, often better than the local weather folks.

Yesterday, by my check, the outside temperature at the house at about 5 PM was 91 degrees Fahrenheit (F) or 33 degrees Celsius (C). The humidity was high. The grass and trees are showing signs of needing rain. The wind may bring in a little rain. For international readers, the temperature yesterday in Moscow, Russia (where we lived from 1994 to 1999) at about 5 PM was 58 degrees F or 15 degrees C. The source is here. English readers will need to translate the Russian on that website. I just read the Russian.

Yesterday, I would have rather been in Moscow, Russia, enjoying 58-degree weather than here, enduring 91 degrees with smoke and humidity! Either way, I can take it. I ain't breathing hard! I prefer cooler weather. I tolerate well enough hot weather.

Please excuse my sidetrack in this section. I had to blow off a little Irish blarney! Let's move on to the main topic!

7-20-2021 Post-It Notes

Last Tuesday at 5:51 PM, I posted a social media tease for this article! Responses were interesting. I read comments by friends as they tried to figure out what the Post-it Notes had written on them. For those friends on social media and in real life, here is the answer to what I wrote on those Post-it Notes!

I took the above photograph, using my trusty Samsung (not “semi-intelligent”) cell phone camera on Monday, 7/12/2021, at about 5:20 PM. I was in our spare bedroom, where Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's furniture is. It was her bedroom furniture, before she became Mrs. Appalachian Irishman. Several weeks ago, she had placed the sewing kit, three spools of thread, and two stacks of clothes on her old bed. My clothing, to the left, had been in her closet for over a year.

The Post-it Note on my clothing to the left reads, “7/12/2021, Monday, 5:23 PM: Please stitch up our holes! We have been waiting for over a year!” Those items, asking to be stitched, are two sweatshirts that I have had for decades and a short-sleeve shirt that I have owned for many years. If they can be fixed, I don't give up on old clothes!

The Post-it Note on my long-sleeve shirt to the right reads, ”Monday, 7/12/2021, 5:24 PM: Please give me away to a larger-sized man!” Christmas of 2020 was “virtual” for Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's side of the family. “Favorite sister-in-law” had given me a large-sized long-sleeve shirt for Christmas. It has been in a box since last Christmas. I forgot about it. I thought it was a doggy present that Molly might have liked.

Several days ago, having opened the box, I remembered the large-sized shirt. I have never worn a large-sized shirt! My long sleeve shirt measurement is 32 inches, as I have long arms. That is a size medium or even small. A large is way too big for me! I ain't that hefty! I hope that Mrs. Appalachian Irishman gives away that large shirt to Goodwill or to someone! I tried it on. It's a nice shirt. I like the colors. It's just way too big for me!

Hey, “favorite sister-in-law,” you saw me on “YackTube” or “Zoomy” computerized video “conferences” from 7/19/2020 through 5/30/2021. You saw me in person on 7/18/2020, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's birthday, and on 5/31/2021, Memorial Day. Did you think I had become hefty, seeing me on those “conference” videos? The camera can add 10 or so pounds, as folks claim. I'm still the same size! I'm just “devilin'” you, “favorite sister-in-law!” I love all of my in-laws, including my “favorite sister-in-law!”

Conclusion

This little article took two days on and off to write. Since 3/28/2021, I have six working documents (3/28/2021, 5/29/2021, 6/12/2021, 6/19/2021, 7/17/2021, and 7/24/2021) on various topics! I need to get around to publishing at least a couple of articles or so from those documents! I may get to a couple more, depending on how this work week goes before this month is gone.

I'm still working from home on Monday through Wednesday and at the office on Thursday and Friday. It is an insane schedule that I have endured since February. To quote a female colleague, “It could be worse.” My reply to her over the years has been, “It could be better. It could be worse. This is the reality!” My replies always drive speculation to the hard surface of work reality!

I may submit my retirement notice tomorrow. If I do, then the details will become bureaucratic insanity gone wild. If that goes on, then I can find another full-time job, working from home full-time and doing something that I actually enjoy or, at least, can tolerate better! We will see.

I'll start working on another article from my working documents stack now. Y'all take care out there! Thanks for stopping by to read for a while!

My Driving School on 11-10-2016 (published 7-11-2021)

Introduction

If you read the articles from 3/21/2021 and 3/29/2021, you will understand one purpose for this entry. It serves as an addendum to those articles. In them, I forgot to include my “driving school” adventure!

The main purpose of this article, however, is to give two friends, husband and wife, an opportunity to laugh and be encouraged. The husband will venture into his “driving school” experience on Tuesday, two days from today.

I also hope that you, dear reader, enjoy a good laugh! My “driving school” experience on Thursday, 11/10/2026, was fun! Well, my still-recovering body didn't enjoy the experience as well as my mind did.

Before the funny conclusion, I pause on a sad note. The sad note honors the doctor who was in charge of my care, while I was a patient at the Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center in Fort Sanders Regional Medical Center. First, however, I was a patient at the University of Tennessee Medical Center from 3/29/2016 to 4/19/2016, when I was transferred by ambulance to the Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center. I was a patient there from 4/19/2016 until my discharge to home on 5/4/2016. “May the Fourth be with you” is how I remember my discharge date.

My 11/10/2016 Driving School

The previously cited articles from 3/21/2021 and 3/29/2021 include several details about my “bionic journey,” as I call it. Forgetting to include my “driving school” in those articles, I do so now. First, however, I will provide the background.

Background

Dr. Robert Chironna was in charge of my medical care at the Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center. He visited my room every morning at about 7 AM, even on most weekends. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman stayed with me day and night, sleeping on the vacant bed beside mine in the private room. Thanks, dear, for tending to me! Dr. Chironna stayed about ten or fifteen minutes with us every morning. He was congenial, mild-mannered, and very intelligent. He and I shared similar senses of humor. His was more subdued, but he liked mine. Dr. Chironna's purpose was to monitor and oversee the progress of my recovery.

After my discharge to home, I had four appointments with Dr. Chironna at his office (6/27/2016, 7/25/2016, 10/25/2016, and 12/5/2016). My wife drove me to all but the last one. We bought my 2006 Nissan Frontier on 11/25/2016. I drove myself to my final appointment on 12/5/2016, when Dr. Chironna “released” me to return to work. I returned to work on 12/19/2016. I did not need a medical “release” to work. I am a free man in a once-free-and-great nation. I could have changed jobs. My state employer required the “release.” I jumped through the bureaucratic hoops, since I didn't want to change jobs.

During my 10/25/2021 appointment, Dr. Chironna suggested (as he could not require) that I attend “driving school.” Pondering the idea, I decided that “driving school” would come in handy if, God forbid, I was in another accident, in which the guilty driver (not me) had an attorney who could find out that I had a concussion on 3/29/2016, when I almost died.

Driving School

Thursday, 11/10/2016, was the 29th birthday celebration for our niece, the daughter of my wife's sister. It was also my day for “driving school!” In our 2008 Civic, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman drove me to Fort Sanders Regional Medical Center. The total time from home, at the medical center, for my highway driving test, and return home took from about 11:30 AM to 4:30 PM. We met Nicole White, an Occupational Therapist / Driver Rehabilitation Therapist. The Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center has a Comprehensive Driving Program there.

Nicole and I understood and liked each other instantly! Our senses of humor matched perfectly! I hope that she is doing well. I haven't seen or communicated with her since that day.

First, I had to play a game for a little while. Nicole and my wife watched me as I used my “bionic” left arm and right arm to punch little red dots on a board that hung on a wall. It was like playing whack-a-mole! It was a test to check my visual acuity and peripheral vision.

I passed with a 100% score! My damaged left eye had not been seeing double for months! Nicole and my wife enjoyed my jokes as I whacked those moles!

Next, I had to play a gas and brake pedals game! While seated, I watched red and green lights that told me when to press either the fake gas or brake pedals. The gas pedal didn't take me anywhere, and the brake pedal didn't stop me at any point. It was some type of test. My “bionic” right knee and right foot had no problems! I did not have to sit too long. That was good. To this day, I do not like to sit too long.

Finally, I had to drive a fairly well-maintained but older passenger van on a road trip. Nicole rode shotgun. I drove the van for about an hour and a half. We went to west Knoxville and back a couple of times, taking various side roads each time. At some point, Nicole knew that I could drive well. She relaxed and enjoyed the ride! My left shoulder, right knee, and right foot suffered but endured. My left shoulder “talked to me loudly” every time that I turned my head left to look out the window. I, however, passed “driving school” with flying colors! I knew that I could drive well. I didn't need “driving school.” I did it anyway. My wife and I were very glad to get back home. She was quite bored while waiting during my 1.5-hour driving test. My “bionic” joints and related muscle groups had endured enough. I passed the “driving school.” It was done. Once home, Molly, our “old puppy,” was glad to see us!

My Friend's Upcoming Driving School on 7/13/2021

To my dear friend and brother in Christ, I know that you will read this article. I hope that reading it gives your wife and you a few laughs and offers encouragement!

Don't concern yourself with “driving school!” You will do well! I hope that you get Nicole White at Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center! If you do, tell her that I said hello! Keep getting better, day by day, by God's grace and your stubborn will! I'm still doing so.

By the way, I hope that you share a few photographs of your “driving school!” Neither my wife nor I took photographs of mine. My photographs are only in my mind.

Dr. Robert Chironna

During my last appointment with Dr. Robert Chironna on 12/5/2016, we conversed on several religious and philosophical topics, aside from the mundane topic of my ongoing recovery. I told him about my still unpublished and incomplete book, Light at the End of the Tunnel. He requested an autographed copy, once I publish it. I promised and remembered.

I gave Dr. Chironna my notes since my 10/25/2016 visit to his office, which he read. Those notes included the following:

Spiritual: Since college, I have pondered, written, and spoken on the “problem of evil.” I have continued to do so, as it relates to my life situation. God is still there, and he is good. He has saved me by his grace, and he has used me in his service. The providence of God has been a specific focus point of my thoughts and writings. God either acts or does not act providentially, according to his will. We may never know why God acts or does not act in providence in certain situations. (For example, slowing down or speeding up the driver who failed to yield to my right of way by even five seconds would have kept this from happening to me.) We, however, trust in him, for he knows the everlasting result of our continuing faith.

Sadly, by doing research for this article, I learned yesterday that Dr. Robert Lawrence Chironna, at age 65, went home on December 14, 2017. I had seen him for the last time on 12/5/2016. My sadness yesterday was overcome with joy! Dr. Chironna has met my mother and father, as well as so many others! He is enjoying his everlasting home! His legacy continues. This final segment before the conclusion is written in his honor. Dr. Chironna does not need my book once I publish it. He is enjoying the bliss of everlasting life! I will see him again.

Conclusion

The light at the end of the tunnel calls each of us home eventually. Will home be heaven? I hope so! The other option will be rather hot and unpleasant!

School yourself in life. Learn how to drive to the correct everlasting home! The Contact Form on this website is how you may reach me, if you would like to converse privately by email.

Let's end on a funny note, shall we? We shall! Today, 7/11/2021, is 7-Eleven Day! 7-Eleven will give us one free small Slurpee any day in July! I haven't had a Slurpee in decades! Who knows? I may hunt me a Slurpee this month. I still have time!

Ferrell Family Gathering Fun on Saturday, 7-3-2021 (published 7-5-2021)

Introduction

Happy 5th of July, y'all! Eventually, I plan to publish a topical article about Independence Day. This article about family heritage has to come first!

My youngest brother called me on Sunday afternoon, 6/27/2021. He invited us to the Morning Star Baptist Church picnic on Saturday, 7/3/2021. I hoped that we could attend, depending on how my three “bionic” joints and related “multi-trauma” muscles endured the workweek.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling my oats. My usual hot-to-cold shower worked well enough as usual. (I didn't even need to use my “muscle thumper!”) My '06 Frontier enjoyed taking Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and me on the road trip. He needed a good stretch of his legs. The approximately 78-mile drive from our house to the Morning Star Baptist Church in Church Hill, Tennessee, took about an hour and a half.

I hope you enjoy the photographs that my trusty Samsung cell phone (not a semi-intelligent phone) took. Comments follow each photograph. The weather was in the low 80s and sunny.

Church Picnic

We started hearing fiddle playing shortly after turning north off Highway 11W! I understand upper-east Tennessee back roads. I've driven many of them. I remembered the first back road. I hadn't been on it in decades. I think that I was in my late teens or early 20s. Dad needed my help with pump work or to move the well machine. I remembered locations on that first back road! I rode with Dad, in his old work truck, to help with his Ferrell's Well Drilling work. Riding with Dad, I helped him many times over several years. Later, Dad rode with me for trips to his medical appointments, usually to see his cardiologist in Johnson City. Dad always commented about locations we passed, where he had either drilled a water well, done pump work, or both. (The pump must be set after the well is drilled.) That is Ferrell's Well Drilling heritage! I have digressed down a back road memory. Let's return our thoughts to driving the back roads on 7/3/2021!

The last part of the drive was back roads, off back roads! The church building is well north of Church Hill. It is almost in Virginia. A drive farther north to Virginia would take less time than back south to Church Hill. The drive, up and down hills and around sharp curves, was expected, as anyone raised in upper-east Tennessee knows. The 78-mile drive was done. We had arrived at the church building.

I took the above photograph, while the “cake auction” was being held, off to the left. (I don't care for sweets.) I'll nitpick my Baptist brethren. My youngest brother is not the “pastor.” He is the preacher (or evangelist or minister). I can argue this point from scripture, but I will avoid doing so. You are welcome to leave a comment, if you would like for me to explain the difference in a future article!

I took the above photograph moments after the first one, having turned to my left. I'm facing west now. The area to the right (shelter and tents) is where the “cake auction” continued. My youngest brother and his family (wife and two daughters), my next-to-youngest brother, my brother (who is about three years younger than me), Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, and several other folks (church members, etc.) are in the shelter and tent area. I see the rear and left side of my silver '06 Frontier truck, with his new “tars” on! The blue truck (closest, on the front and left side) belongs to my brother, who is just younger than me. The VA helped him buy that truck. My brother was in the Air Force for eight years. He served in Operation Desert Storm. He probably contracted multiple sclerosis from the immunizations he had to take during Desert Storm. The nation owes many veterans, including my brother, a debt of gratitude. I am glad that the VA helped him buy his new-to-him truck. (It's a 2017 Tacoma.)

In my first article from 6/8/2021, I wrote that I would publish an image of my truck, wearing his new decorative plate and “tars.” The above image shows the decorative plate. Do you see my arms and chest, reflecting in the chrome bumper? My decorative plate has been on my truck since 5/23/2021.

The four sons and Earl and Betty Ferrell had not been together since 7/23/2020, at the gravesite service for my eldest niece. My next-to-youngest brother visited us on Thanksgiving, 11/26/2020. My youngest brother and his family visited us on 11/28/2020, the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

On July 3rd, we were glad to be together again, all four of us at once. The setting was much better than on 7/23/2020. My veteran brother and I talked quite a bit about our “whatevers” and other topics. He has left shoulder and right leg problems. I have left shoulder and right leg (knee and foot) problems. We both endure. Our “whatevers” are different, but we understand each other. (His wife, daughter, and grandson had gone to see his wife's family in Kentucky.)

My youngest brother's two daughters were finally able to get their Christmas presents. His eldest daughter received her birthday present as well. We had Christmas in July, I reckon.

Cemetery

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I had to start our way back home. On our drive back, we stopped at Mom and Dad's gravesite. The cemetery is behind a church building. Fifteen Ferrells, including Mom and Dad, rest in the cemetery. We visited each gravesite.

Three of my uncles and their wives (my aunts) and three of my first cousins rest there. I knew and remembered very well my aunts, uncles, and first cousins.

The first row, in the above photograph, is where Dad's oldest brother, his wife, two of their children, and his wife's mother are resting. Many memories come to mind of Uncle Bill, Aunt Bobbie, Cousin Larry, and Cousin Retha. Aunt Bobbie's mother died five years before I was born. We had a good visit.

Mom and Dad are resting together in the second row in the photograph. Farther back, the flagpole and flag on the tree stump mark where a large mimosa tree had been standing. That tree had provided shade to Mom and Dad's gravesite, which was good, when visiting on a hot, sunny, or rainy day. The roots had become a concern. Dad selected the perfect marker. The words to the poem, above “FERRELL” (visible), are not legible in my photograph. I memorized the poem over 20 years ago. The words fit Mom and Dad well. Dad had selected the poem. He talked about it many times. We had a good visit.

The gravesite of an aunt and uncle and their son is farther back. Their gravesite is beside the gravesite of another aunt and uncle. Uncle Roy, Aunt Maxie, and Cousin Bart have one site. I had to laugh a little, when I recalled the many jokes with Bart. He could always name more state capitals than I could.

Uncle Carson and Aunt Hazel have the other site. Many good memories filled my mind. I have nary a bad one! Well, I have one. The hospital was the last time that I saw Uncle Carson. My wife and I had returned from our five-year mission work in Russia less than two months before. We had visited Uncle Carson and Aunt Hazel at their home on 11/26/1999, when Uncle Carson wasn't well but was able to be at home.

I do not have the date written on my 1999 calendar, but our hospital visit with Uncle Carson and Aunt Hazel was shortly after 11/26/1999. Uncle Carson went to his heavenly home on 12/1/1999. At the hospital, Aunt Hazel started to cry as we talked. Uncle Carson told his wife not to cry and that “it will be okay.” Uncle Carson must have been thinking from the everlasting perspective, knowing that he had only days before he went Home. The memory is bad in the short term. It is a good memory from the everlasting perspective.

The gravesites of Papaw Marion Ferrell's younger brother's son, his wife, and two of their children are also in the cemetery. I was born five months after the son of Papaw Ferrell's younger brother died. I don't recall having met his wife or their two children. I may have.

Homeplace

Our next-to-last stop was a quick visit to the homeplace. (We were trying to get back in time to do “Molly Doggy's.”) The above photograph is looking northeast, with the back of the homeplace in the image. Granny Wood's grapevine is to the left. Her grapevine will have plenty of grapes later this year.

The two Winesap apple trees that Dad planted are farther west, not in the image. The smaller tree is starting to produce apples. The larger tree may or may not produce apples this year. Both trees are healthy. The Ferrell family is welcome to stop by to get grapes and apples! Two great neighbors have been doing so for years. My youngest brother and I have been doing so as well.

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was “hiding” in my '06 Nissan Frontier. The first hay cutting had been done. I wish that my good neighbors had been home! I missed seeing them. The garden, behind the image, was looking good. The target practice area looked like it had been used recently by a good neighbor. I need to target shoot there soon!

Dad, we're still “keepin' it going” at the homeplace. I remember what you said after Mom went to see Jesus.

Conclusion

I started writing this article yesterday, on Independence Day. The plan to publish this article yesterday, with another article afterward about Independence Day, was delayed. A man has to do other stuff! Well, this family heritage article is published! I will get around to writing and publishing an Independence Day article, in better-late-than-never mode.

I wrote earlier in this article about starting “our way back home.” Our travels on 7/3/2021 took just over six hours. After the homeplace, my truck was hungry. I fed him 89-octane 100% gas at Liberty Market, which is across Main Street from the elementary school. To family members and friends in Rogersville, I'm sorry, y'all, that I didn't let you know that we were coming! What we did took enough time. We didn't have any more time!

Our way back to our heavenly home will take more time. Many family members are already at that home. We here, in the short-term perspective, are living to go there. To my biological and spiritual family members, who are already home, my wife and I, along with others, are on our way to meet you! We will get there. It won't take long from the short-term perspective. Until then, y'all “keep it goin'” up there! We will see you soon!

The Ferrell family gathering fun on 7/3/2021 was a foretaste of future Ferrell family gathering fun—at our everlasting and heavenly home!

LULA FRANK AMOS WOOD, 6/16/1901 - 8/12/1991 (published 6/26/2021)

Introduction

Howdy, y'all! What's going on in your neck of the woods? Anything? Tell me about it! This is not a one-way conversational street. You are welcome to post comments. Don't let the cat get your tongue! Okay, that's just my glib Irish tongue. Readers are welcome, with or without comments. Views this month so far total 6,307, as of 3:36 PM today. The number continues to increase. Readers keep reading, and I keep writing.

Too many days have passed, since June 16. I need to talk with Granny Wood. You are welcome to listen to the conversation.

Conversation with Granny Wood

Hi, Granny! I'm sorry that I didn't talk with you, in writing, on your birthday on the 16th. I spoke to you verbally many times that day. I can only imagine what Papaw Wood, Mom, Dad, Uncle Bobby (Robert Allen Wood, 5/14/1939 - 1/18/1941), and so many others in the family, on both the Wood and Ferrell sides, are doing now. It must be great! I can see with my eyes of faith! I long to join you all, to see everyone, and to see what you are seeing now! I'm on my way, Granny! I'll get there one of these days!

Granny, do you remember the above photograph and writing your name and age on the back? The year was 1976. You were 75. I was 15, almost 16. Papaw (Aby William Wood, 9/4/1901 – 3/14/1983) was 74, almost 75. He liked to joke about having an “older woman,” by less than three months, as his wife! Mom (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell, 11/24/1932 - 12/28/2000) was 43. Dad (Earl H. Ferrell, 9/17/1927 - 1/25/2008) was 48.

Hey, Granny! I'm 60 now. I'll be 61 in less than a month! I'm getting up there! I always remember sitting in the beach chairs with you in the front yard, in Bean Station, Tennessee. We watched clouds, and I guessed the shape of the clouds. Some looked like mountains, birds, bears, and so forth. We had fun! You encouraged my imagination. I still have that! I loved spending a week in the summer with Papaw and you! I had educational fun, even if I didn't know that I was being educated at the time! I remember sitting beside Papaw and you at Calvary Baptist Church, in Morristown, Tennessee, on Sunday mornings. You always gave me clove chewing gum. Several years ago, I found a pack of the same gum. I have it stored in my chest of drawers! I remember enjoying hearing you sing and amen, under your breath, to the sermon. Papaw said every amen loudly.

Granny, my mind is filled with so many wonderful memories of birthdays, holidays, family reunions, and other types of gatherings! As a boy, who grew into a young man, all those gatherings deepened the roots of my godly family heritage! Thank you, Granny. I love you!

When you lived at the homeplace, after Papaw passed, I was so glad to see you during each visit! At Papaw's funeral visitation, I remember that you said, “He loved me so good.” As you know, after Papaw passed away, I finished college, married, and moved to Missouri. My wife and I came back to visit as often as we could.

After 8/12/1991, when you passed on to your heavenly home, I was honored to conduct your funeral and graveside services. I've visited the grave sites of Papaw and you many times, but not as often as I would like to. In part of my eulogy, I said, “Granny, your little Indian chief is coming home.” I explained the time, while staying with Papaw and you one summer week, that I had decided to “run off.” I was in my early school age years. I started walking off down the road. You watched and said, “Come back, my little Indian chief!” Well, I did. I don't know why I decided to “run off.” I was glad to return!

Conversation Conclusion

Granny, your “little Indian chief” will come Home! It may take a few years or decades. I'm getting there, step by step, by faith! By the way, Granny, did you know that I became a “bionic” man on 3/29/2016? Well, that's a story that I will share with Granny and Papaw Ferrell, Papaw Wood, Mom, Dad, you, and so many others, once I join you.

Your “little Indian chief” is signing off now. I enjoyed talking with you, Granny! I LOVE YOU! YOU WERE THE GREATEST GRANNY THAT I COULD HAVE EVER HAD!

'57 CHEVY REVENGE? (published 6-22-2021)

Introduction

I must have a little fun with this article. You know how I am! Don't you, sister-in-law? I thought so! If you had replied to my voicemail today, I wouldn't have written this article!

'57 Chevy

The '57 Chevy was a classic car! Back then, men were men, and women were women. The USA was still a great nation. I was born three years later. You, sister-in-law, were born seven years later. We were both born too late to have enjoyed the ride.

I have a friend from grade school and high school. His father, who passed away recently, had a great '57 Chevy stored in their basement. I saw it many times. I wonder where that car is now. My friend, his mother, or his sister may know.

Revenge?

Okay, sister-in-law, you reached the grand age of 57 yesterday. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, your sister, saw you. I called you about 5 PM to joke with you about reaching the age of a '57 Chevy.

Thirty minutes later, at about 5:30 PM, the storm hit. Fifteen minutes after that, we lost power. Our power was off until 10:35 PM. I woke up from sleeping on the couch five minutes before the power came back on. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was already in “sandman land.”

Sister-in-law, what did I do yesterday that caused you to shut off our power with a storm? I just called you to say “Happy birthday” and to joke a bit about being '57 Chevy years old! Did my wife do something to offend you? Was it your '57 Chevy revenge?

The storm and power outage reminded me that I can live “off the grid” without electricity! It was great!

Maybe you didn't take '57 Chevy revenge on us! It could have been your gift, reminding me how to live without electricity. If so, thanks!

Conclusion

I'm just having a bit of fun, y'all. It's suppertime. Let's eat!

Come back to read later. I have at least two more articles in mind.

DAD, DO YOU REMEMBER THE 2003 WATER WELL CONVENTION? (Happy Father's Day, 6/20/2021)

Introduction

I am the eldest of the four sons of Earl H. Ferrell (9/17/1927 - 1/25/2008) and Betty Lou Wood Ferrell (11/24/1932 - 12/27/2000). I speak with Dad in the first person, in this article.

Happy Father's Day, Dad! By the way, I was wondering if you remember . . .

December 17, 2002 to January 13, 2003?

Yes, I figured that you did. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman (well, that's what I call her when I write; you know her name; it's just funny, Dad) and I had closed the construction to permanent loan, to build our house. The digging for the basement had started. We were in the apartment. That tightness in your chest was more that you thought.

Do you remember your stay at the Rogersville hospital (12/17 - 18/2002)? Well, I followed your ambulance to the Johnson City hospital, on 12/19/2002. I wish it had not been so cold and snowy. All those details! I have them written on my 2002 calendar.

On Christmas Eve, do you remember when you and I were in your hospital room? That one cardiologist gave you six months to live. We just looked at each other. I'm glad that Dr. Sholes' nurse was listening, in the hallway! Dr. Sholes, the best cardiologist we've ever known, called a few minutes after the “quack cardiologist” left your room. Dr. Sholes gave us hope!

Well, at least you were able to come home, on that Christmas Eve (Tuesday). Doug drove you in his truck. I followed in mine. You may not know this, Dad, but I prayed to the Good Lord that I would go insane – if I was following you home, on Christmas Eve, to die in a few days or months. I had followed the ambulance that brought Mom home, on Christmas Eve 2000, to see her die at home four days later. Of course, you know. You had come home, after having bought a few Christmas gifts, about the time Mom went to see Jesus. You had been trying to keep up the Christmas gift giving tradition, for Mom's sake. I know that you loved Mom. I still have the kerosene lamp that Mom and you bought us that day. It is on a shelf in our kitchen.

At home, on that cold Christmas Eve, you could barely walk from the living room to the bathroom, without stopping to catch your breath. I still don't know why you decided to work on the old wall clock that still hands on the living room wall at the homeplace. It had stopped working again. You took it apart, lubricated it, and got it working again. You refused our help.

The Good Lord must have heard my prayer to Him, while following Doug and you, from the hospital. After you had fixed that old wall clock, you got up to walk around. You felt a “pop” in your chest. Whatever that “pop” was, it was a good thing! You started walking around the house, without the need to stop to catch your breath! That was great! I saw it! “Thanks, Good Lord! We needed that prayer answered!” Dad needed that prayer answered! Dad needed that “pop!” The Good Lord doesn't care much for the trivial prayers. He cared about that one! He knew that I needed His affirmative!

Well, I have many other details that I wrote in my December 20002 and January 2003 calendars. I reckon we known them well enough. Dr. Sholes had arranged your appointment with Dr. Glassford, a fine cardiologist surgeon, at St. Thomas Hospital, in Nashville. The weather was cool and sunny at least! That was good traveling weather! Yep, I thought that you would remember!

Doug and you met me in Knoxville, on Sunday, 1/12/2003. Do you remember the Pilot gas station where we met? I was glad to see you walk inside that store with us, as if you could climb any mountain! Well, off to Nashville we went. I'm glad that the hospital has a hotel room within walking distance.

The next day, 1/13/2003, we were up, shaved (or beard trimmed for me), and ready to meet Dr. Glassford, at 10 AM. Dad, as you recall, I was amazed – absolutely amazed – by how well you walked from the hotel to the hospital, through the hospital maze, until we found Dr. Glassford's office! I think that you were trying to make Doug and me keep up with you! That was great! You were feeling your oats!

I wonder why Dr. Glassford had that hole in his long-sleeve shirt. He was a “country boy,” who was brilliant! I guess he didn't care. How old was he? You figure about 62? I reckon so. He looked trim and fit for his age (like me). Okay, I'm crowin' a bit, Dad! The four of us sparked an interesting and educational conversation. So, one-third of your heart was dead. The blockages were to areas of your heart that were already dead. The other 15% blockage was no concern. You did not need heart surgery. The risk of dying from the surgery was greater than the reward. Good! Let's go home! We did! Well, we each went to our respective homes. Supper at the Cracker Barrel was great!

By the way, Dad, did I ever tell you about facing down the bigger and younger man, in the apartment behind my wife and me? It was about 12:15 AM, on 1/14/2003. I'd been back to our little apartment about four hours. I was worn out. The idiot man and his woman were fighting. I think the coward was beating on her. I went around to their door. I knocked. The bigger and younger man met me. I told him, with fire in my eyes and stubborn Irish will in my heart, that he'd better stop beating on his woman, cool down, and shut up – otherwise, I had 911 on my cell phone, and I was ready to punch call! (I didn't have a pistol then. Hey, Dad, I have a lifetime carry permit and three firearms now! I thought that you would like that! Well, one firearm is Papaw Wood's 22 rifle. Do you remember when you shot that rifle, to kill the buzzard that was on the spot where Buddy, a great dog, was lying dead, before Doug and I could get there to bury Buddy?) The idiot “man” (such as he was) backed down! I don't recall hearing him beat on his woman after that! Well, I hope that I educated him and helped his woman.

August 3 - 8, 2003 (Sunday through Friday)?

I agree, Dad. Let's talk about a much better memory! Well, 2003 rolled on, with many details that I have written on my 2003 calendar. The water well driller convention was the week of August 3 - 8, 2003, in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. (They still have an annual convention. They have a fancy website, Jubilee Water Show, now.) Yes, Dad, I remember when Mom and you took two brothers and me to Myrtle Beach, for the convention, years ago. (Sorry, Doug, you were not born yet.) It had to have been 1970 to 1972. No, Dad, I'm still mad! You kicked sand in my face, when we were racing, on the sand, to see who was faster! That was not fair! Yea, yea, I'm joking. You won!

Fast forward to 2003! Gwyn Calfee and you have been friends for decades. He was a well-driller from White Pine, Tennessee. How old was he, in 2003? He was 80! You were still age 75, turning 76 on 9/17/2003. Today, I found his obituary, sadly. Well, I guess you knew before me, Dad! Gwyn Galfee met you on 12/11/2018. He lived to age 95.

I'm glad that you (and your 1/3 dead heart) were feeling you oats! Gwyn Calfee and you joined my wife and my at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina! We had arrived on 8/2/2003, that Saturday. Y'all drove down the next day. Y'all enjoyed the convention during the day, while we enjoyed the beach. Every late afternoon, however, we came to your hotel. (It was not too far from our ocean-side hotel!) Y'all joined us. Well, y'all stopped by to see us at the beach a time or two! I drove the four of us to the eating location that Gwyn and you picked! The stories that we told each other. The laughs and jokes we had! Those five days, at the beach, were great times! I have several photographs, of the old film type. I'm saving them!

Hey, Dad! I still have the 2003 convention Frisbee that you gave me! The one that you kept is still on a kitchen wall, at the homeplace. I keep mine in my closet, perched on a high shelf. Last Sunday afternoon, I dusted off the Frisbee and placed it on the carpet, which looks like sand. I thought that you'd like to see that I still have that Frisbee! It may still have a few grains of sand on it, from tossing it on the beach! Yes, I've had this conversation in mind since last Sunday!

Conclusion

What year was that, Dad, when you hiked up Clingmans Dome by yourself? It was after Myrtle Beach 2003. I have the details written on one of my calendars! You finally admitted to us that you had hiked alone! You said that you had to stop a few times, to rest on your hike up. It took you a few weeks or months to admit that to your sons! I remember being worried that you had done that! I was wrong! You knew your limitations. You had been thinking about the times that you took Mom to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. You were remembering, as you hiked. I've done that many times, over the years. I understand. Heck! I remember a few times that you took Mom and us boys! Do you remember the time the mother bear almost got us? I do! One time, we had a great swimming pool, at the motel!

Well, I'll sign off for now, Dad. It was good to talk with you today! Happy Father's Day! I'll see you again soon – well, it may take me a few decades, but I'll get there! Okay, here it comes. Watch out! I LOVE YOU, DAD!

Saturday, 6/19/2021: Molly, “Super Puppy”!

Introduction

Molly is our “super puppy!” I met Molly on 11/17/2015. She was about eight months old. We took an immediate liking to each other!

Before we met, Molly had come to visit a friend (and former colleague) and her husband on Halloween, Saturday, 10/31/2015. Molly had been following trick-or-treaters, wagging her tail and having fun. Apparently, she had gotten away from her owner. The owner's phone number was still on her tag, but it was no longer valid. My friends had posted fliers in their neighborhood to find the owner without success. My friends, who already had two dogs, posted about Molly on a social media platform, hoping to locate a new home for her. I responded!

After purchasing several items for dogs, I brought Molly home on Saturday, 11/21/2015, a crisp and cool day. (Papaw Ferrell passed away on 11/21/1970.) Once Molly was home, she met Mrs. Appalachian Irishman. They took a shine to each other immediately! Molly's first visit to her veterinarian was later that day. Thankfully, Molly was examined and found to be in great shape.

Molly's Veterinarian Visit Earlier Today

Molly, now at six years old, is still in fine shape! She was born before 10/31/2015, so she is six years old. We, however, celebrate Molly's birthday on October 31st each year. Molly will celebrate her sixth birthday on 10/31/2021!

I have kept each record of Molly's visits to her veterinarian. I also have a digital record for each visit. This morning at 10 AM, Molly had a six-month follow-up to her last annual physical examination on Monday, 12/28/2020. (My mother was hospitalized initially on 12/28/1999.)

As usual, Molly enjoyed seeing everyone at her doctor's office this morning! Further, she likes to ride in my truck. Before and after her appointment, she likes to do “sniffers,” “leakers” (to mark her territory), and “crappers.” She, however, doesn't like the “squirt in the nose” medicine, but she shakes it off, wagging her tail and sneezing.

The following are three photographs that I took, using my trusty Samsung cell phone camera, after Molly's appointment. (It's not a “semi-intelligent” phone, but it has taken many great photographs on hikes, etc., for years.) Each one is in the yard around her doctor's office. The images are a little blurry. Molly moves fast!

The above was in the front yard. Molly took a “crapper” before her appointment in the grass, thankfully! She's taken “crappers” on the sidewalk a couple of times in the past. No worries! Gloves are available outside in a metal box. A metal “crapper dumper” with a lid is also nearby. I have gloved up and dumped Molly's “crappers” in the “crapper dumper” a couple of times.

Do you see the heart-shaped pattern in the image below? I call that Molly's “heart pattern.”

The above two photographs were in a far corner of the doctor's office yard, near an Advance Auto Parts store. Trees provided shade behind and to the right of the images. Clean water from a recent rain or a wet-weather well is under the trees. After the last photograph, Molly darted to the water and took several big gulps. Then, she decided to take a bath in the water! I wish that I could have recorded Molly, rolling around in the shallow water and then shaking off the water! My mind holds the image. By the way, my wife had given Molly a bath on Wednesday. Today was her second bath in one week! Good puppy!

Conclusion

Molly and I were robbed of hiking together on “My Mountain,” except for a few times, after my near-death wreck on 3/29/2016, a day that lives in infamy. I am still working on becoming sufficiently confident in my right foot and knee to take her hiking with me again.

Molly and I still have a great deal of “man and doggy” time, even if it is in the yard or on a trip to see her doctor! Good puppy!