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Spreading a Little Cheer Beneath a Mountain Fog

Posted on December 21, 2018December 20, 2018 by Easin' Along

Twenty years ago, our church began a tradition of adopting families in a small, rural Appalachian community, and providing them with gifts to brighten up the Christmas season. In previous years, Helen (adorable wife) and I have adopted families and shopped for them, but three years ago (post-retirement) I volunteered to deliver the gifts to the Community Center which serves as the collection point. On Monday of this week, our volunteers gathered at the church for another year of spreading cheer.

I arrived at the church to find it already abuzz with activity. Stacks of wrapped boxes and brightly colored gift bags sat in SUVs ready for the trip. I placed gifts for two families in Freddie (my car) and joined the group inside for last minute instructions from Margaret, our volunteer leader and organizer, and a prayer led by Mark, our associate pastor. Minutes later, the convoy moved out.

The Clearfork Community Center sits in the tiny Appalachian town of Eagan, Tennessee. Eagan is a former coal mining community tucked into the Clearfork Valley a few miles below the Tennessee and Kentucky border. Our church has always referred to the area as Roses Creek. I don’t know where that name comes from unless it is the name of one of the small creeks that flow into the Clearfork River running alongside the community center. Hopefully, a reader will tell me.

We left Knoxville in heavy fog to begin an hour and a half drive traveling 75 miles north on I-75. We planned to cross the Cumberland Mountains in Campbell County and meet up at the state line in Jellico where all nine cars would form a convoy to Roses Creek. The fog persisted until I punched through it at the mountaintop, around 2,000 feet above sea level. The bright sunshine illuminated the dense fog covering the valley floor and I couldn’t restrain myself from taking pictures from Freddie’s front seat at 70 miles per hour (photo above). I was the fifth of nine cars when I arrived at the rendezvous point.

Within about five minutes the rest of our group arrived, and we began snaking our way up, over, and around the mountain to our destination. Once again, we found ourselves beneath the fog that filled the valley. We proceeded slowly for the last 20 miles and followed a creek for most of the drive. In some respects, this is an area forgotten by time. We passed several abandoned homes and small country stores that I assumed sprang up at a time when coal was king. Coal mining continues in the region, but the coal industry offers few jobs now, and there are even fewer young men willing to brave the dangers of coal mine work.

I remembered a few landmarks from previous trips and, after about thirty minutes, they came into view and we were turning onto the gravel drive leading to the Community Center. Everyone began unloading packages. Margaret had organized the families by name and number and we completed the unloading and assembly process rather quickly. The director of the Center was on hand to greet us. She was truly grateful for our support as well as excited about the joy that would come from the recipients. I’m not certain when the families would receive the gifts. None were present when we were there.

I spent a few minutes walking around the community center. Mounted on the entry hall wall was a large picture depicting mining activity during the 1920s. Other pictures told the story of the people who had formed the community around the same time. From the time Helen and I began adopting Roses Creek families, I’ve always felt a kinship to the people of this region. My father grew up here with two brothers raised by a single Mom. He left after serving in World War II when the GI Bill made college affordable.

The center itself once house the Eagan School, but a former nun named Margaret Cirillo came to the area around 1960 to assist Appalachian families and secured a grant to convert the school into an institute for the benefit of the job-starved residents of the Clearfork Valley. Margaret has devoted her life to the people of Appalachia. A YouTube Video tells her story and I have posted a link to that video that is viewable by clicking here. Margaret was not there to greet us, but I hope to have the opportunity to meet her sometime in the future.

The director prepared cookies and sandwiches for our group and we enjoyed them before the return to Knoxville. By the time we said our goodbyes, the sun had penetrated the fog with just enough light to reach the floor of the Clearfork Valley. Looking to my right as I drove away from the center, I spotted a small clapboard house below the road. A chimney poked through a tarpaper-covered roof, billowing smoke. Stacks of split firewood surrounded the house. I guessed that the owner gave up on coal long ago…probably for reasons having nothing to do with heat.

I drove on feeling extremely blessed for the life I have — Merry Christmas to all, especially to those in Roses Creek. We’re Easin’ Along…

Fundamentals

Been to Bethlehem? An Advent Devotional

Posted on December 7, 2018December 7, 2018 by Easin' Along

Over the past two years, I have shared with Easin’ Along readers two devotionals (click here and here) that I wrote for an Advent Devotional handbook given to members of our church. Our church did not publish a handbook this year, but my intention was to prepare a devotional anyway. I spent some time thinking about the subject matter around Thanksgiving but never could settle on a topic. My frustration continued until this week.

A few days ago, I received our church newsletter which contained a very timely message written by our interim minister, Dr. Steve Eason. Dr. Eason is not only an exceptionally gifted speaker, but he is also an excellent writer, and his message spoke to me as someone who, at times, finds Christmas overwhelming. I asked Dr. Eason if I could reprint his message on Easin’ Along. He graciously consented, and his words are printed below. Please read on because I am certain that, if things get a bit stressful over the holidays, his message will help bring into focus the reason for the season.

Grotto of the Nativity

You ever been to Bethlehem?

Some of you have. Underneath the Church of the Nativity is a grotto where early Christians claimed Christ was born. It’s a stone cave that would have been underneath a home. Animals would have been bedded there for the winter. It’s now a holy place. There’s a fourteen-point star on the floor that marks the spot where the Manger would have been. You can place your hand in a hole in the middle of that star and touch the stone where some claim this historical event occurred. Whether it did, or whether it didn’t, it’s a good place to remember.

There’s obviously a lot going on as we gear up to celebrate Christmas. Parties, concerts, parades, shopping, decorating, baking, travel, church, family, traditions, ending a semester, wrapping up the old year and preparing for a new one. All of that is happening at the same time. Holiday fatigue!

Then I think of that grotto, the oldest site of worship in Christianity. Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Armenians, Coptics, Protestants….we all trace our heritage to that site. God did something there, on that spot, in real time, in a real place. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.” (2 Cor. 5:19)

We can’t all go to Bethlehem. The important thing is that God went there in Christ. Everything was born there! Our salvation, our reconciliation with God, our hope, the gift of eternal life were all born there on that spot in Christ.

While all these other things are going on, I want to go back to Bethlehem in my mind and in my heart. I want to touch that stone and remember what happened there, in a simple cave, in a simple village, with simple people and an extraordinary God!

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem! Come, and behold Him, Born the King of angels! O come let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, Christ, the Lord! (John Francis Wade, “O Come, All Ye Faithful”)

About the author:

Dr. Eason received a B.A. from East Carolina University in 1976, M. Div. from Duke Divinity School in 1979 and D. Min. from Columbia Theological Seminary in 1993. He was ordained in the United Methodist Church in 1980 and transferred to the PCUSA in 1984. He has served as pastor/head of staff at churches of different sizes and his longest tenure was from 2002-2015 at Myers Park Presbyterian in Charlotte, NC which has a membership of approximately 4800. He left Myers Park voluntarily to pursue ministries “outside of his comfort zone” and spent a year as a church consultant with Macedonian Ministries, Atlanta GA during which he traveled the country working with churches to help them with a wide range of challenges. He now serves as an interim pastor at Sequoyah Hills Presbyterian Church, Knoxville, Tennessee.

Helen (adorable wife) joins me in sending a sincere wish that your holidays are filled with love, joy, happiness, and peace. We’re Easin’ Along now…with one hand holding a shopping list and the thought of the other hand reaching into that hole.

Fun

Gatlinburg – Two Years After the Fire

Posted on November 30, 2018November 30, 2018 by Easin' Along

Although we live within fifty miles of it, I can’t remember the last time I was in Gatlinburg. It’s probably been sometime in the last ten years, but certainly not in the last two. I needed to change that.

For those not familiar with this charming little village, Gatlinburg sits at the entrance of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Eastern Tennessee. In the summer, crowds swell, lines form at the attractions, and parking can get a bit tight. It’s not the crowds that keep me away because I love to “people-watch” and the folks that fill Gatlinburg can be quite interesting. Therefore, I have no good excuse for not visiting more often unless I use the “it’s close, so I can go there anytime” excuse.

On this week two years ago, the town of Gatlinburg was ablaze in a wildfire of epic proportions. By the time brave firefighters contained the fire, 14 people were dead, over 2,000 structures had burned to the ground in addition to the 10,000 acres torched in the National Park. I have friends who lost businesses. Some have rebuilt, others are finally getting around to thinking about it now that the shock is over.

On Wednesday of this week, Helen (adorable wife) and I sat around the breakfast table watching a news feature on the second anniversary of the fire. I decided that I should go and see the effects of the fire, and the rebuilding efforts for myself. The day promised cold temperatures, but clear skies although the area had received a dusting of snow overnight. I was surprised but, Helen wanted to go as well. I guess it was too cold for pickleball.

My preferred route to Gatlinburg is to avoid I-40 and travel along Highway 441 so that I can keep the mountains in my view. In the distance, I could see snow on the higher peaks. There were no clouds in the sky. The usually bustling shopping malls in Pigeon Forge seemed to be in “pause mode” now that Black Friday had passed. Traffic was steady, but not stopped.

As we neared Gatlinburg city limits, Helen suggested that we take the by-pass and drive to Ober Gatlinburg, the ski resort that overlooks the city. As soon as we began the upward climb, we passed several buildings claimed by the wildfire. We stopped to look at one of the structures owned by some friends. It seemed to me that the passage of two years only increases the sadness of the devastation. I preferred to focus on the view.

Snow covered a portion of the grounds at the ski lodge and machines produced snow to cover the slopes at the rear of the lodge. The temperatures hovered in the twenties and no skiers had made it to the slopes, but a few were warming up for a run. I love to ski, and hope to have the opportunity again but, today was not the day.

Despite the fire, Gatlinburg seemed much like I remembered it from the days when I made regular visits on weekend getaways from college. Many of the motels and attractions had survived, and a few had even expanded beyond what I remembered. The only disappointment was that a favorite restaurant, McCutcheon’s, was now an Italian Bistro. Nevertheless, when I turned to the north, I could see an entire hillside with barely a twig left standing. This hillside is the location of the very popular Sky Lift that carried tourists to the top of the mountain and gave visitors an incredible view of the city and the mountaintops.

The Sky Lift remains, but the trees are long gone. The fire that destroyed the trees also burned a motel belonging to an acquaintance of ours. Having the flames come that close to downtown must have been horrific to tourists and townspeople alike.

Helen and I walked to one end of town and back, pausing long enough for a delicious lunch at the Pancake Pantry. The Split Pea soup hit the spot as did the cucumber salad. Half of the sandwiches ended up in a box so that we could take them with us and thereby save room for a stop at the Ol’ Smokey Candy Kitchen, another favorite from the old days. The rather unfriendly candy maker did break his stoic posture long enough to tell us he was making cinnamon taffy. We bought chocolate nuggets as well as some chocolate-covered toffee bars, then left before temptation completely overtook us.

Back at the starting point for our walk, we went into the Craft Show inside the Convention Center. Outside the Convention Center, a chainsaw artist created Black Bears. Some of them were pretty cute. Inside, one entire floor featured the works and art of various artisans. I watched while one of the artists gave a demonstration of her watercolor skills. Another lady showed the curious her technique for applying enamel to round river rocks. We avoided the impulse to buy anything but enjoyed strolling through the show. The crowd was somewhat light. At the end of our time there, we paused once again to listen to some beautiful music played on a hammer dulcimer. I have shared a brief portion of the music with you in the video below. You’ll love it.

Gatlinburg is on the way back. I’m glad we went and promised that it wouldn’t be two years before I return. I recommend it highly. It’s a great destination for Easin’ Along.

Near our parking lot, a sign displayed my new slogan for the holiday season. This music gave me a head start. Please share your Gatlinburg memories in the comments section. I’m certain you have some!