Saturday, August 07, 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, to this original publication of 8/7/2021. This article still awaits proof, if 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, by date settled, in Tennessee!


The most recent article, of 7/25/2021, mentioned six “working documents.” The oldest “working document,” 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!

The “gang” is getting together, in person, later today -- finally! The last gathering was on Saturday, 2/15/2020. The new cold virus (i.e., “global pandemic” or Corona Myopia) had been hindering us -- among other reasons.

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

Tennessee Statehood

First, let's set the stage, with the beginning of the state. Tennessee became a state, on June 1, 1796. (Source: “Tennessee,” on A&E History, by Editors, updated 8/21/2018.) That's why the media were bragging on Tennessee, on 6/1/2021. Tennessee has been a state for 225 years.

By the way, June first is the beginning of summer (meteorological summer) -- not June 20, which is astronomical summer. I have argued that point in many articles, but I digress.

As a personal aside, June first was Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's last work day. Her summer vacation has started. It ends on 8/10/2021. She returns to “hitting a lick,” on the last “dog day” of summer, which the most article mentions.

Tennessee Counties (95) in Chronological Order

Next, let's move on to when Tennessee's 95 counties were formed. The origination dates of those counties are listed, below, in chronological order. The four sources for the list are: “Education Outreach,” on 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,” on My Counties, and 2009-2010 Tennessee Blue Book, Section VI – Tennessee, Origin of County Names (a PDF file).

1777 - 1799: 18 Counties
1777 Washington County                        1779 Sullivan County
1783 Davidson County, Greene County  1786 Sumner County
1787 Hawkins County. The exact date was 1/6/1787, according to “Hawkins County,” on Tennessee Encyclopedia (by Henry R. Price, last update 3/1/2018).
1792 Jefferson County, Knox County      1794 Sevier County
1795 Blount County
1796 Carter County, Grainger County, Montgomery County, Robertson County
1797 Cocke County
1799 Smith County, Williamson County, Wilson County

1801 - 1849: 61 Counties
1801 Anderson County, Claiborne County, Jackson County, Roane County
1803 Dickson County, Rutherford County, Stewart County
1806 Campbell County, Overton County, White County
1807 Bedford County, Bledsoe County, Franklin County, Hickman County, Maury County, Rhea County, Warren County
1809 Giles County, Humphreys County, Lincoln County
1817 Lawrence County, Marion County, Morgan County, Wayne County
1819 Hamilton County, Hardin County, McMinn County, Monroe County, Perry County, Shelby County
1821 Carroll County, Henderson County, Henry County, Madison County
1824 Fayette County
1835 Benton County, Lauderdale County
1836 Bradley County, Cannon County, Coffee County, Johnson County, Marshall County, Meigs County
1837 DeKalb County         1839 Polk County
1840 Van Buren County    1842 Macon County
1843 Lewis County            1844 Grundy County, Hancock County
1845 Decatur County        1849 Scott County

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

Jonesborough is the Oldest Tennessee Town

That Jonesborough is the oldest town in Tennessee well known. “History,” on 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, build 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 then established in 1779. A town starts as a settlement, before it is established.

Rogersville is the Second Oldest Tennessee Town

Rogersville is the second oldest “settled” town in Tennessee -- settled in 1775. “Visitors,” on 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,” on Tennessee Encyclopedia (by Henry R. Price, last update 3/1/2018) confirms the establishment of Rogersville, in 1789, fourteen years after settlement.

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 . . . .

Dandridge is the Third Oldest Tennessee Town

Dandridge is the third oldest “settled” and “founded” town in Tennessee -- settled and founded in 1783. To my Jefferson County friends, the following is the proof that I win this decades old discussion!

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


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, I know that Rogersville was established six years after Dandridge.)

The established dates are a point of triviality. For example, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I live in the settlement of “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,” on Wikipedia, which references: Miller, Larry (2001). Tennessee Place Names. Indiana University Press. p. 51. ISBN 0-253-33984-7. Retrieved July 25, 2020.) I have seen the area highway signs that confirm settlement in 1785 (two years after Dandridge). The little town of “Corrytonvegas” exists. It just hasn't been “established” or “founded” yet!

If the “gang” members from Jefferson County can cite proof, confirming that Dandridge was settled before Rogersville (in 1775), then I will retract my victory. Otherwise, my victory stands -- in a joking manner, of course.

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

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

Sunday, July 25, 2021

WHAT WAS THAT 7-20-2021 PHOTOGRAPH THAT I HAD TAKEN? (published 7-25-2021)


Howdy, y'all! Views, on this website, average about 200 to 300 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 “Farcebook!” I hope that articles encourage, entertain, and help viewers. Daily views have dropped a little, into the 100 to 200 range, recently. That's due to my laziness! I've been writing nine to twelve articles a month, since January 2021. I've written only two this month, before this article. I'll try to do better!

The Dog Days of Summer (Sidetrack)

I hope y'all are enjoying the dog days of summer! (I'm sorry, Molly, our ol' puppy!) Well, I'm talking primarily, with readers, from the USSA. 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. Sirius 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'd 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 the eastern USSA, are enduring the “dog days of summer,” we also see the smoke in the air. The smoke is coming from the fires, in the western USSA. Our local TV news media have been talking about the smoke and the “air quality index,” since Thursday, 7/22/2021. Here's one and another local news story. I'd seen the smoke, before 7/22/2021. I can predict the weather – by being outside, looking, feeling, and smelling – better than the local weather folks, usually.

Yesterday, by my check, the temperature, at the house, about 5 PM, was 91F or 33C. 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), about 5 PM, was 58F or 15C. 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 58F weather, than being here, enduring 91F with smoke and humidity! Either way, I can take it. I ain't breathing hard! I like cold weather. I tolerate hot weather well enough.

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

7-20-2021 Post-It Notes

On 7/20/2021, Tuesday, at 5:51 PM, I posted a “Farcebook” tease, for this article today! Hey, “Farcebook” friends (in real life, not just on “Farcebook”), here is my revelation, of what I had written, on those Post-It notes! I've read the comments, as friends tried to figure out what the Post-It Notes have written on them!

I'd taken the above photograph, using my trusty Samsung (not “semi-intelligent”) cell phone camera, on 7/12/2021, Monday, 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 the 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 over a year!” Those items, which are asking to be stitched, are two sweat shirts that I've had for decades and a short-sleeve shirt that I've had many years. I don't give up on old clothes – if they can be fixed!

The Post-It note, on my long-sleeve shirt, to the right reads, ”7/12/2021, Monday, 5:24 PM. Please give me away, to a size large man!” Christmas of 2020 was “virtual,” for Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's side of her family. “Favorite sister-in-law” had given me a size large long-sleeve shirt for Christmas. It had been in a box, since Christmas 2020. I had forgotten about it. I had thought that it was a doggy present that Molly would not have liked.

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

Hey, “favorite sister-in-law,” you had only seen me, on “YackTube” or “Zoomy” computerized video “conference,” from 7/19/2020 through 5/30/2021. You had seen me, in person, on 7/18/2020 (Mrs. Appalachian Irishman's birthday) and on 5/31/2021 (Memorial Day). Did you think I had gotten hefty, by 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 “out-law” in-laws, including “favorite sister-in-law!


This little article took two days, on and off, to write. Since 3/28/2021, I have and still have six “working documents” (of 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 “working documents!” I may get to a couple more – depending on how this work week goes – before July is gone.

I'm still working at home, 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 colleague, “It could be worse.” My reply, to my colleague has been, over the years, “it could be better. This is reality!” My reply drives speculation, to the hard surface of life reality!

I may submit my retirement notice tomorrow. If I do, then the details will be 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 can, at least, 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 a while!

Sunday, July 11, 2021

MY DRIVING SCHOOL, ON 11-10-2016 (7/11/2021 ADDENDUM TO “3/21/2021, SUNDAY: MY 'BIONIC' EXCUSE” AND “MY 'BIONIC' JOURNEY, SO FAR: 3/29/2016 to 3/29/2021”)


If you click the links -- to my 3/21/2021 and 3/29/2021 articles -- you will understand one reason why I write this addendum today. I had forgotten to write about “driving school.”

The other reason for this addendum is to give a friend and his wife (my friend also) an opportunity to laugh, before my friend does his “driving school,” on Tuesday, 7/13/2021. I hope that all my readers enjoy a good laugh! “Driving school” was fun, folks!

I will pause on a sad note, but I will end on a funny note! The sad note will honor the doctor who was in charge of my care, while I was at Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center, in Fort Sanders Regional Medical Center. (University of Tennessee Medical Center had me from 3/29/2016 to 4/19/2016, when I went by ambulance transfer to Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center. I was there from 4/19/2016 until discharge to home, on 5/4/2016 – “May the Fourth be with you.”)

My 11/10/2016 Driving School

I wrote about several details, in my 3/21/2021 and 3/29/2021 articles. I had forgotten to write about “driving school!” I do so now.

Dr. Robert Chironna was in charge of my medical care, at Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center. He visited my room daily, about 7 AM, even on most weekends. (Mrs. Appalachian Irishman stayed with me day and night, sleeping on the vacant bed beside mine, in my private room. She knows as well. Thanks, dear, for tending to me!) Dr. Chironna spent about ten or fifteen minutes with us every morning. He was congenial, mild-mannered, and very intelligent. He and I had similar senses of humor. (His was more subdued, but he liked my humor.) His 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 (6/27/16, 7/25/16, 10/25/16, 12/5/16). Mrs. Appalachian Irishman drove me to all but the last one. I got my '06 Nissan Frontier, on 11/25/2016. I drove myself to my final appointment, on 12/5/2016. 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.

At my 10/25/2021 appointment, Dr. Chironna suggested (as he could not require) “driving school.” I pondered 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 discover that I had a concussion -- on 3/29/2016, when I almost died.

11/10/2016 was a Thursday. It was the 29th birthday anniversary of the daughter of my wife's sister. It was also “driving school” day! Mrs. Appalachian Irishman drove me to Fort Sanders Regional Medical Center. (The total time from and back home was from about 11:30 AM to 4:30 PM.) We met Nicole White (Occupational Therapist / Driver Rehabilitation Therapist). Patricia Neal Rehabilitation Center has a Comprehensive Driving Program there.

Nicole and I understood each other instantly! Our sense 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 little while. Nicole and Mrs. Appalachian Irishman 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 whack-a-mole! (It was a test to check my vision acuity and peripheral vision.)

I passed 100%! My damaged left eye had not been seeing double for months! Nicole and Mrs. Appalachian Irishman enjoyed my humor as I whacked those moles!

Next, I had to play gas pedal/brake pedal game! While seated, I watched red and green lights that told me when to press either the fake gas or brake pedals. (The gas didn't take me anywhere, and the brake 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.

Finally, I had to drive a fairly well maintained but older passenger van. Nicole rode shotgun. I drove that van about an hour and a half. I drove to west Knoxville and back, a couple of times, taking various side roads. 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 I turned my head left to look out the window. I passed “driving school” with flying colors! (I knew that I could drive well. I didn't need “driving school.” I did it anyway.) We were very glad to get back home. (Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was quite bored, while she had awaited my 1.5-hour drive.) My “bionic” joints and related muscle groups had taken enough. I did “driving school.” It was done. Molly, our doggy, was glad to see us at home!

My Friend's 7/13/2021 Driving School

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

Don't concern yourself with “driving school!” You will do great! 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 Mrs. Appalachian Irishman nor I took photographs of mine. My photographs are only in my mind.

Dr. Robert Chironna

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

I gave Dr. Chironna my notes, since my 10/25/2016 visit to his office. He read my notes. My 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 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 the last time, on 12/5/2016. My sadness yesterday was overcome by joy! Dr. Chironna has met Mom and Dad – as well as many, many others! He is HOME! His legacy continues. This final segment is written in his honor. He does not need my book, once I publish it. He has already met Mom!


The light at the end of the tunnel calls us all 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 Home! My website shows you how to contact me, if you would like to talk by e-mail privately.

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!

Monday, July 05, 2021

FERRELL FAMILY GATHERING FUN, 7-3-2021 SATURDAY (published 7-5-2021)


Happy 5th of July, y'all! I will publish a topical article on Independence Day – eventually. This family heritage article had to be first!

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

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 about 78-mile drive from home 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 (not-semi-intelligent) cell phone took. I will add comments after each photograph. The weather was in the low 80s and sunny.

Church Picnic

We started hearing fiddle playing, shortly after having 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 20's. Dad had needed my help with pump work or to move the well machine. I remembered locations on that first back road! I had ridden with Dad, in his old work truck, to help with his Ferrell's Well-Drilling work. I rode with Dad, to help, many times over many years. Later, Dad rode with me, for trips to his medical appointments, usually to see his cardiologist, in Johnson City. Dad would always comment about locations we passed, where he had either drilled a water well, done pump work, or both – usually 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 the 7/3/2021 back road ride as it continues!)

The last part of the drive, however, was back roads off back roads! The church building is well north of Church Hill. It is almost in Virginia. The 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 going on to my 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 my point from scripture, but I will avoid doing so. You are welcome to write a comment, if you want 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” was continuing. 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 tents area. I see the rear and left side of my silver '06 Frontier truck, with his new “tars” on! The blue truck (closest, 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 eight years. He served in Operation Desert Storm. He probably contracted multiple sclerosis from 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 one of my 6/8/2021 articles, I'd written that I would publish an image of my truck, wearing his new decorative plate and new “tars.” (I've commented about the new “tars,” on since 6/4/2021. By the way, I see me – arms and chest at least – in the chrome.) 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. Next to youngest brother had visited us on Thanksgiving, 11/26/2020. Youngest brother and his family had visited us on 11/28/2020, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. We were glad to have been able 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 able to get their Christmas presents, finally. His eldest daughter got her birthday present also. We had Christmas in July, I reckon.



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 known church. Fifteen Ferrells are resting in the cemetery, including Mom and Dad. We visited each gravesite.

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

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 at the second row, in the photograph. Farther back, the flag pole and flag on the tree stump mark where the 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 and sunny or a rainy day. The roots, however, had become a concern. Dad had 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 memory! Well, I have one. It was the last time I saw Uncle Carson. My wife and I had been back from our five-year mission work in Russia, by less than two months. We saw Uncle Carson and Aunt Hazel, at the hospital. (We had visited them at their home, on 11/26/1999.) I do not have the date written on my 1999 calendar, but it had to have been after 11/26/1999. Uncle Carson had a very few days to live. (He went home on 12/1/1999.) Aunt Hazel had 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 in 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, in the everlasting perspective.

The gravesite of Papaw Marion Ferrell's younger brother's son, his wife, and two of their children are in the cemetery also. 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.


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 had 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. Ferrell family are 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 for years.

Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was “hiding” in my '06 Nissan Frontier. The first cut of hay 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.


I had started writing this article yesterday, on Independence Day. The plan to publish this article yesterday – with another article afterward, on the topic of 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 my Independence Day article – in better late than never mode.

I have written earlier, about having started “our way back home.” Our 7/3/2021 travels took just over six hours total. (After having been at the homeplace, my truck was hungry. I fed him 89 octane 100% gas, at the Liberty Market, which is across from the elementary school, on Main Street.) To my family 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 HOME” will take more time. Family are already at HOME. We here, in the short-term perspective, are living to go HOME. To my biological and spiritual family, who are already HOME, my wife and I, along with others, are on our way HOME! We will get there. It won't take long – in 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 HOME!

Saturday, June 26, 2021

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


Howdy, y'all! What's going on, in your neck of the woods? Anything? Tell me about it! It's not a one-way conversational street here! Y'all can post comments! Don't let the cat get your tongue! Okay, that's just my my Irish glib tongue. Y'all read, without comments, if you wish. My June 2021 readers total so far is 6,307 – at 3:36 PM, on 6/26/2021. (The number keeps going up.) Y'all keep reading, and I'll keep writing. It's a good deal!

Too many days have passed, since 6/16/2021. I need to talk with Granny Wood. You are welcome to listen into my conversation.

Conversation with Granny Wood

Hi, Granny! I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you (in writing), on your birthday anniversary, on 6/16/2021. (I spoke to you in words many times on 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 side, are doing now. It must be great! I can see, by my eyes of faith! My eyes of faith long to join y'all, to see everyone and to see what you all are seeing now! I'm on my way Home, Granny! I'll get there!

Do you remember the above photograph and writing your name and age on the back? The year was 1976. You were age 75. I was age 15 or 16. Papaw (Aby William Wood, 9/4/1901 – 3/14/1983) was age 74 or 75 . He liked to joke about having married an “older woman” – by less than three months! Mom (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell, 11/24/1932 - 12/28/2000) was 43 or 44. Dad (Earl H. Ferrell, 9/17/1927 - 1/25/2008) was 48 or 49.

Hey, Granny! I'm age 60 now. I'll be age 61 in less that a month! I'm getting up there! I always remember sitting in the beach chairs with you, in your front yard (in Bean Station, TN). We watched the clouds, and I guessed the shape of the clouds. Some looked like mountains, birds, bears, etc. We had fun! You taught me imagination. I still have that! I loved to spend a week in the summers 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 church (Calvary Baptist Church, Morristown, TN) on Sunday mornings. You always gave me clove chewing gum. Some 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 his amens loudly.

Granny, my mind is filled with so many wonderful memories of birthday, holiday, family reunion, 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 had passed, I was so glad to see you, on each visit! At Papaw's funeral visitation, I remember that you said, “He loved me so good.” As you know, I finished college, married, and moved to Missouri – after Papaw passed. My wife and I came to visit as often as we could.

When you passed on Home, on 8/12/1991, I was honored to conduct your funeral and graveside services. (I've visited the gravesite for Papaw and you many times, but not as often as I would like to do.) In part of my eulogy, I said, “Granny, your little Indian chief is coming home.” I had 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 had started walking away, down the road. You watched and said, “Come back, my little Indian chief!” Well, I did. I don't know why I'd decided to “run off.” I was glad to have returned!

Conversation Conclusion

Granny, your “little Indian chief” will come Home! It will take me a few years or decades. I'm getting there – step by step! 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 Papaw, Granny and Papaw Ferrell, Mom, Dad, you, and so many others – once I get home!

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!

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

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


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 voice mail today, I wouldn't have written this article!

'57 Chevy


It was a classic! Men were men. Women were women. The USA was still a great nation. Unfortunately, I was born three years too late. You were born seven years too late. We were both too late to have enjoyed the ride.

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


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

About 5:30 PM, the storm hit. About 5:45 PM, we lost power. Our power was off until 10:35 PM. I know. I had awakened from my sleep, on the couch, five minutes before! Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was already into “sandman land.”

What did I do yesterday? I had called you, to grant you a happy birthday and to joke a bit about '57 Chevy! Mrs. Appalachian Irishman must have set you off!

That storm with power outage was only a reminder of how I can live “off the grid” without electricity! It was great!

Maybe you didn't take revenge! Maybe it was your gift! If so, thanks!


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

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

Sunday, June 20, 2021

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


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!


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, June 19, 2021



Molly is our “super puppy!” I met Molly, on 11/17/2015. She was a few 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. She, apparently, had gotten away from her owner. The owner's phone number was still on her tag. The number 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, had posted on the “Interweb,” hoping to find a new home for Molly. I had responded!

After having purchased several doggy items, I brought Molly home, on 11/21/2015, a crisp and cool Saturday. (Papaw Ferrell had passed, on 11/21/1970.) Molly met Mrs. Appalachian Irishman. They took a shine to each other immediately! Molly's first visit to her veterinarian was later that day. Molly was fine!

Molly's Veterinarian Visit, 6/19/2021

Molly, at age six now, is still fine! She was born before 10/31/2015, so she is age six. We, however, celebrate Molly's birthday on October 31st, each year. Molly attains age six, officially, on 10/31/2021!

I have kept each record of Molly's visits to her veterinarian. I also have a digital log document that includes each record, with notations on various details. Molly has an annual physical exam. She has a follow up at six months, to squirt one medicine into her nose. It's routine, every six months. Today, 6/19/2021, Saturday, was get “the squirt in the nose” appointment, at 10 AM.

As usual, Molly likes to see everyone at her doctor's office! She enjoys the ride in the truck! She likes to do “sniffers,” “leakers” (to mark her territory), and “crappers” – before and/or after her visit! She doesn't like, however, “the squirt in the nose” stuff, but she shakes it off, with tail wagging and a sneeze!

The following are three photographs that I took, with 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 is in the front yard. Molly had her “crappers” before her appointment – in the grass, thankfully! She's had “crappers” on the sidewalk a couple of times, in the past. No worries! Gloves are available in a metal box outside. A metal “crapper dumper,” with lid, is nearby too! I've gloved up and dumped “Molly crappers” in the “crapper dumper” a couple of times!

Do you see the heart pattern? I call that Molly's “heart pattern.”

The above two photographs are in a far corner of the doctor's office yard, near an Advance Auto Parts store. Trees provide shade behind and to the right of the images. Clean water, from recent rain or from a wet weather well, was under the trees. After the last photograph, Molly darted to the water. She got several big gulps of water. 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 herself! My mind holds the image. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman had given Molly a bath, on Wednesday. Today was second bath in one week! Good puppy!


Molly and I were robbed of hikes, on “My Mountain,” except for a few – after 3/29/2016, a day that lives in infamy. I am still working on being 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!