Category Archives: nashville

Lamenting the lost past

Out with the old! In with the new! Isn’t that the best way??

Not necessarily. I look around sometimes, and I feel a deep sadness in my heart when I see old abandoned buildings that once stood tall and proud. They were the new, bright and shiny location once upon a time. Today, they sit forgotten and ignored. Empty shells where perhaps a lonely ghost wonders, or perhaps a homeless man or woman finds shelter.

As I write this I realize I could be equally writing about my hometown as I am about my current town.

Walk through the downtown square of my hometown, and you’ll find many empty store fronts. Yes, some now house businesses, but it is nothing like the bustling square my dad talks about it having been at one time.

The drug store that had anchored downtown for so many years finally closed a couple years ago, sending its clients to the CVS Pharmacy at the edge of town. The jewelry store where many of my graduation gifts came from, where my mother’s engagement ring came from, where my brother and sister-in-law registered for their wedding, closed a few years ago. That location, luckily, does now have a new tenant. Both national banks remain, and we are the county seat and trials do keep people coming into downtown.

However, if you look at the sides of the buildings, you can still faintly see the advertising that had once been painted there. Western Auto, Sears, and other department stores have long ago left. The jail is now a museum.

I look at old photos of my hometown, and its almost as if you can feel the town’s energy cutting through the years. A bustling, busy square. Back when taking trips to the bigger named stores a couple towns over was a big trip… treated more like an event than something we just do without thinking about anymore.

Out with the old. In with the new. More is better. Go! Go! Go!

The problem is that out with the old often doesn’t mean it goes away. It means its left to decay and sit as a shadow of what it once was.

Arcade
Arcade

It’s no secret that I absolutely love Printer’s Alley in downtown Nashville. That little strip of bricked road has this amazing vibe that you feel if you only stop for a moment and let it sink into your soul. It’s history excites me. I want to tell the world all about it! A dream of mine is to write a book on the Alley to do just that! Its something I need to do soon before the people who can tell the tales of its glory days, the days when it was the Vegas Strip of all the South, start to die off and its interesting (and often sordid!) history is silenced for good.

All of Nashville’s history interests me. I could — and have — spent hours on end in the public library researching the city’s history. I wish I’d loved the subject in general this much when I was in school!

However, as I drive through the streets of my city and I look up in awe at the high rises, I also look down and see many forgotten buildings — not unlike my hometown. I stroll through the Arcade, a place once bustling with so much activity, and I see only a shadow of what it once was.

Friends who grew up in Nashville, who remember the glory days of the Alley and Nashville in general, tell the tales of their memories, and I find myself enthralled. I hang on to every word. I imagine my eyes shine like a child’s would at Christmas. I feel at the same time, though, a sadness deep down to see so much changed and lost. I see my beloved Alley now being ignored, almost as if the powers that be wish it would just go away.

Out with the old. In with the new.

I am perhaps one of the minority that hates the idea of the new convention center downtown. I ask, “WHY?” as I point at the many empty large facilities that dot downtown. Some of which that have long been ignored. Buildings that were once the biggest thing going, now left empty and ignored. Hosting the random show here and there, but on a whole no longer loved as they once were.

An article appeared the City Paper recently that echoed my melancholy thoughts perfectly as it questioned the closing of the fairgrounds.

“First they moved the Grand Ole Opry out of town, and now they’re running stock car racing out,” Denson said. “They’re doing away with the history and tradition that made our city so unique and special. It’s sad to see.”

It’s sad to see. Call me a sentimental fool, but I think so much of what made Nashville special is ever so slowly being lost. I could also very easily say the same about my hometown in Texas, only my hometown just stopped all together. Nashville is at least progressing as it forgets its past.

And while the city still loves to tout its Lower Broadway and its honky-tonks, the dirt and grime were cleaned up considerably in the past couple of decades, turning seedy into trendy. — City Paper Article

I’m all for making the city safer, and I am all for growth. If you don’t grow you’ll die on the vine. But as you grow, you can’t forget where you came from. That goes for cities just as much as it does individuals. Learn from the past. Honor the past. Keep a bit of the old as you bring in the new.

Countdown to 10-Year: Life outside school

In six days, I will be attending my 10 Year Class Reunion. In these days, I will take the opportunity to look back on ten of my favorite elements of high school (in no particular order of importance)…

#6 – Life outside school

High school days do indeed always seem to focus on what happens within the confines of “high school life.” But as I look back on those four years, I see many things in my personal life — life outside of school — that changed dramatically.

* My brother got married. November 1995.

Wedding Party
Wedding Party

My first semester of high school, my older brother got married. Definitely a transition for me! He’d gone to technical school out of high school, so its not like he’d never been away from home. But it was still going to prove to be a big change. He had been that one dear friend that had always been there my whole life. Believe it or not, he and I really never — or at least very rarely — fought like most siblings do. We had a mutual respect and admiration from the beginning.

Now, he’d never be across the house any more, and in that respect I was a little sad that day. However, in my heart I knew he was starting a new chapter of his life, and I was genuinely happy for him… for them both!

The wedding was beautiful, and the day a blur. It was my first time being a bridesmaid, and I was still a newbie to high heels. THAT could have been a disaster, but thankfully all went smoothly. Many wonderful memories exist from that day, and I cherish them all.

The long and short of it all, though, my family changed right after my high school career started. And I wouldn’t trade that change for anything…

* My first concert, Fan Fair, & Nashville. 1997.

Fan Fair 1997 -- (From top left) At the Country Music Hall of Fame; Me and Mom in from the the Ryman; Me and Bryan White; Me and Michigan J Frog -- the WB was brand new
Fan Fair 1997 -- (Clockwise rom top left) At the Country Music Hall of Fame; Me and Mom in from the the Ryman; Me and Michigan J Frog -- the WB was brand new; Me and Bryan White

My Sophomore year, I dipped my toes into what would eventually become my whole life… only I didn’t know it then.

On Feb. 14, 1997, a friend and I went to see Thrasher Shiver, Ricochet and Bryan White. I admit. I was one of those girls who was madly in love with Bryan White, and I was on cloud nine the whole night. On top of it all, I had scored floor seats. We were only maybe 15 rows from the stage. I had a BLAST and was pretty much hooked.

That summer, my parents and I made the trip to Nashville to attend Fan Fair. My very first visit to Nashville, and we all remember my saying, “Wow, I feel like I just came home. I’m going to live here some day.”

What do you know? I do now!

The funny thing is, there are big parts of Nashville I just don’t remember. We drove down Broadway, and we went to the Ryman. I remember the Ryman but not Broadway. Fan Fair was still held out at the fair grounds, which I thought was fantastic. It was all centrally located, and easy to go from the live shows all day to the booths. I laugh now as I go through photos from those days… the people that I snapped photos of that I now know personally. Or the ones that were so big back then that are now long ago forgotten.

I stood in line for hours on end to meet Bryan White! We took a tour of homes, and we saw where multiple stars lived at that time. I remember being enthralled with tour buses. Today? A bus is a bus, and my husband co-drives them.

My how times changed. I guess you could say, though, that the trip to Nashville was a glimpse into the future, and on some level I knew that. But had you asked me seriously that last night before we drove home, and we sat in the audience of the Grand Ole Opry, “Will you be watching your husband on that stage some day, while standing backstage?” I’d have laughed and said no…

…and I’d have been wrong.

* My nephew was born. October 1997.

I was a proud aunt
I was a proud aunt

First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then come baby in a baby carriage!

Stands to reason that after my brother got married my freshman year, that there would be a good chance I’d have a niece or nephew by the time I graduated. Sure enough, fall of my Junior year, my nephew made his appearance to this world.

Now, he came into this world early. Premature, he was smaller than the Elmo doll that sat in his baby bed. He spent weeks of his life in NICU where family could come visit after putting on a gown and scrubbing up carefully. He started day one of his life fighting. He started day one as the light of many of our lives.

I still remember New Years Eve 1998. My parents and I baby sat him for the night, and he had to wear a heart monitor around his little chest. If it shifted too much, it would go off with a beep that would make him stir.

We eventually opted to take the monitor off so he could sleep, but I remember hardly sleeping a wink. I was constantly getting up to check on him. I could watch him sleep for hours and never get tired of it. A living and breathing miracle from God.

Family photo -- Christmas 1997
Family photo -- Christmas 1997

To fast forward a little past high school years, around age four or five, he was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. He’ll never play sports, and while he can still walk, he has a wheelchair to use when he gets too tired and sore to walk anymore. Swimming, go-cart riding and fishing are among his favorite activities. He’s a Tenderfoot in Boy Scouts, and he just started to play saxophone in the band. He’s a straight-A student.

He is my biggest hero. Like I said, from Day One he entered this world as a fighter. And fought he has. He gets frustrated when he trips and falls. And I know he probably gets picked on at school now and then. He never lets it get him down. He’s a local spokesman for MDA, and this weekend he’s appearing on the telethon.

He teaches everyone he knows about Muscular Dystrophy and MDA. But more than that… he teaches everyone to not give up. To keep your head up. That just because you can’t do one thing, it doesn’t mean give up. It means find that thing you are good at, and give that thing your all.

I really believe God never gives us more than we can handle. And my nephew handles something this big with such grace and optimism… he’s one of the strongest people I know.  Him… his mom… his dad… his sister. I admire them more than they will ever know.

* My grandpa passed away. December 1997.

Me, grandpa, Mom
Me, Grandpa, Mom

My grandma on my mom’s side passed away long before I was born. So growing up, I only knew my grandparents on my dad’s side, and then Grandpa on my mom’s side. So, don’t think it weird when I say that in December 1997, I lost my first grandparent.

This was a man that rode a bicycle around town into at least his 70s. I remember going to visit him and my brother and I would get softballs, baseball, tennis balls, golf balls, whatever we wanted that he had collected on his travels through town. We would go every few weekends and take Grandpa to church, then go out to eat. It was a nice familial routine we had for years. I miss that sometimes still today.

Grandpa had been in a nursing home for awhile already and his health started to go downhill in ’97. He had already beaten throat cancer, and when he passed away at 91 he could say he had lived a life of hard work.

Somewhere, a photo does exist of my grandpa, my mom, my brother and my nephew… four generations together. We were lucky to get that photo, as my nephew was only two months old when Grandpa passed away.

Death is never easy, but its a part of life. There are many people who have never had to deal with a loved one passing away, and while they are very lucky… I think that’s a key lesson in life that needs to be learned. It helps to respect life and to cherish every day… every hour… every minute we have with our loved ones.