I grew up in West Hyattsville back when the roads were unpaved, a general store for shopping needs, and several neighborhoods. It was a rare occasion when I would have an opportunity to visit outside the confines of this now sprawling suburb. This January I got the opportunity to visit the heart of the South—Tennessee, South Carolina, and North Carolina. I made new friends of the Dash family; Ken, Clair, and April, along with the family pets Sammy (the Golden Retriever) and Blitz (the white cat). They live in Lebanon, Tennessee where we stayed for the first ten days of our trip.

One thing that amazed me was the contrast in what your money can buy there and what it won't buy up here in Maryland. The homes that could only be afforded by the wealthy here in Maryland are owned by the middle class in Tennessee. Also, being the home of Country Music, there are many mansions there. I was fortunate enough to stay in the home of the Dash family. I had a Craftmatic Bed in which to sleep, and a nice hot tub in the back yard to relax in.

The Dashes are member of a Southern Baptist Church. When I was invited to attend their church with them I thought to myself, “Great, more funeral services.” I convinced myself that I could put up with that for a few Sundays.” I was very pleasantly surprised and spiritually uplifted during these biblical, contemporary, and lively services. The style of their services are very much like what we experience here at our non-denominational community churches. The Baptist churches I have been to (and a couple that I was even a member of) up here in Maryland have said that such services are blasphemous, but there I was, in the very See of the Southern Baptist Convention and Lifeway, and participating in some of the most uplifting and upbeat services I have ever attended. I am also very impressed with how these churches in the south meet the needs of the congregation. A few elderly members needed some medical assistance with blood pressure monitoring and medication dispensation and a member who is a nurse volunteered to help them. As members saw the value of this ministry they supported it, and now the church has a hospital room in the main church building with beds (I saw three) and all the hospital equipment for monitoring blood pressure, heart rate, etc. The members sought a healthier lifestyle, so this ministry was supported and the church now has a fully functioning gym and track. The track is like a balcony which circles the gym, and it is fully padded. While the Baptist churches I have attended up here in Maryland struggle with between 50-150 members, these churches are thriving with 1,000-3,000+ members. There are Baptist churches in almost every area there, within a few blocks of one another, and I noticed full parking lots in all of them. Something that I noticed too while I was down there; no one honked at me, swore at me, or cut me off. One day I walked to the local Walmart, and I got to the busy intersection and I had to cross over it. When I was in the middle of this busy intersection I noticed that when I had the light so did those who wanted to turn right onto this section, and trying to watch cars coming at me from several areas I became a little confused. Then people stopped their cars, smiled at me, and waved me across. Not one person yelled, honked, or swore at me. I began to see what the phrase southern hospitality meant.

We first crossed the Virginia/Tennessee border in the city of Bristol. Half of Bristol is in Virginia while the other half is in Tennessee. There we saw a guitar-shaped building which houses WOPI, 1490 AM, the oldest radio station between Knoxville, TN and Roanoke, VA. There is also a music store, visitor center, and a country music museum inside this unique building. Something inside the museum caught my attention—in the old days the people would take standard farm tools such as rakes, picks, shovels and axes and turn them into stringed instruments. Country music was everywhere. We drove by Al Gore's hometown, and mind you, we decided not to stop by and purchase carbon credits. It was onward to Lebanon.

We arrive at the home of the Dash family rather late, but they greeted us warmly and invited me to make myself at home. Even the family pets made me feel right at home. I still miss sitting out on the swing and Sammy wanting me to toss the ball about with him. I took Sammy for a walk one night, and there are no street lights down there. I have to admit, with the absence of light I found that I was quite lost. I also did not have a cell phone with me, so I decided to let Sammy lead the way. I've raised dogs my whole life and I know they have a good sense of direction—they know where home is, so I reckoned that Sammy knew where his home was too, and he does. One night I was sitting out on the swing and Sammy came up and sat with me when suddenly he turned, growled, and took off to the back of the house. With no lights aglow he quickly became invisible in the cloak of darkness. I did hear another set of feet or paws running through the leaves but I never saw who or what critter it was. Soon enough Sammy came back to me with no wear or tear, so I figured it was a fox or rabbit that he got scent of, but I sure felt safe with him by my side. One of Sammy's best friends is Blitz, the tiny, pure white cat. Blitz is quite of mischievous feline, always into things, jumping onto things, and getting Sammy under the collar, so to speak. It is a lot easier to train a dog than it is to train a cat, so training Blitz to stay off the dinning room table where our food would be placed was an interesting chore. We used a water pistol. When we saw Blitz jump up on the table we simply squirted him and he would tear off to some other room of the house—temporarily. Like Sammy, Blitz is very affectionate too. Blitz is as close to a Christian as a cat can become, and he should—he got baptized daily with the water pistol. In the midst of January it was so nice and warm that we went on a canoe trip on a lake. Even though we had to row manually I found it a very relaxing time, and watching turtles swimming lazily along only added calm to the mood.

As we left church the first Sunday we drove through the large estate of Conway Twitty, which is now owned by Paul and Jan Crouch of TBN fame. We stopped in and watched a movie on the life of Christ. Another thing I noticed down in Tennessee is that even though the Christmas season had shortly passed I saw in abundance what I rarely see up here—Manger Scenes, many of them life size, and proudly displayed. I am one that has grown tired of the cartoon Santas, snowmen, reindeer's, etc. Christmas has become a silly cartoon, and yet we wonder why the Board of Education uses the term Winter Holiday instead of Christmas. I digress; back on the road, in our travels we saw the estate of Loretta Lynn, the Coal Miner's Daughter. Something that caught my eye was a tree house and the platform that took you up to it, I have never seen such a well designed tree house. We did stop at a dinner where one of my favorite singing groups had stopped—The Temptations. One day we traveled to Lawrenceburg to have lunch with a friend of Keith's. I felt like I was in Pennsylvania as we were in Amish country. A kind gentleman, David, purchased an old inn and turned it into a market place to sell Amish goods. David lost a kidney to cancer so please keep him in your prayers. While we were there we were under a tornado watch. David told us that last year an F5 tornado had passed by on the other side of a water tower about a football field's distance from his market place. The pictures of the clouds are the storm as it passed by, thankfully we did not get a tornado where we were. I found it relaxing seeinng the Amish people driving about in their horse drawn buggies, even in the middle of the highway. No one hunked at them, swore at them, nor showed them their central digit.

We took the opportunity to visit the battlegrounds of Franklin, and standing atop the observational post, Winstead Hill. While the Confederacy could claim a legal victory in that they drove the Union forces back, the loss of their own military at this battle began their decline toward their ultimate defeat and the end of the Civil War. We visited the Carnton Plantation which contains the largest Confederate Cemetery, the soldiers from the southern states killed at the Battle of Franklin. The mansion is a work of southern beauty, but the shame remains of the slave houses. I would be remiss if I neglected to mention our side trip to ancient Greece, or at least a life size replica of the Parthenon. I found the beauty of ancient Greek architecture fascinating to say the least.

The day came when we had to head out of Tennessee and move on to Anderson, South Carolina. We had to stop by Cooter's and visit the Dukes of Hazzard museum. There was of course the General Lee along with the jeep driven by Daisy Duke, and squad car of the sheriff. The General Lee is not an automatic so Keith couldn't drive it—that meant that I had to be the one to speed us away from danger at extreme high speeds through treacherous territories while being chased by the sheriff at the orders of Boss Hogg. We are here to tell the story. We're just a couple of good ol' boys, never meanin' no harm. We then headed down route 441 through Pigeon Forge and Dollywood. I have to admit that I was very disappointed in this area. It has become a tourist attraction and the scenery resembles more a bad cartoon then Tennessee history and economic growth. I did enjoy the drive to the top of the Smokey Mountains, seeing the formation of icicles as the temperature dropped to below freezing, then entering the Cherokee reservation of North Carolina when we descended on the other side. I look forward to a return trip to this area, I found it friendly, welcoming, with a western ambiance.

During our tour of South Carolina we came across the last campaign stop of Fred Thompson. I got to meet him, shake hands with him as he signed the campaign poster one of his people gave me. You can see his signature across the “F” of Fred in the photograph. Members of the media were very rude and arrogant, but I found Fred Thompson and his campaign workers to be very cordial, friendly, and polite. Having done so poorly in the primaries he really had little choice but to resign his candidacy. But we had to press on and head north on our way home.

It was dark when we arrived at Mt. Airy, the boyhood hometown of Andy Griffith, and the town on which Mayberry is based. We parked on the main street and started walking around taking photographs. We were behind a building which contains murals painted by hometown folks. As Keith was finishing up taking pictures of the murals a local man offered to shine a spotlight on the building to give us more light. I found that uplifting, as I expected, “What are you all doing? I'm calling the police if you don't get out of here right now!” Instead he walked around with us showing us what was opened and what was closed. I felt like I did back in Schulyer, Virginia—where folks are kind, friendly, helpful, and trusting. We saw Opie's Candy Store and Floyd's Barber Shop. I'm sorry they were closed, as you can see from the photograph I could use a trim. But Barny Fife's Diner was opened, so we boldly walked in—right as they were closing. The proprietor cheerfully invited us in to look around as he and the crew cleaned up. They were very friendly, telling us about the town and all the festivals that occur during the year. They have a festival in September to honor The Andy Griffith Show, and the actress that played Barney Fife's girlfriend, Thelmalou, actually lives in Mt. Airy. Many of the surviving actors from the show make their appearances during this festival. There is also a Harvest Festival in October. There is also The Andy Griffith Playhouse where plays are performed, thanks to the generosity of Andy Griffith who gives back to his childhood community. There is a statue of Andy and Opie walking with their fishing poles from the opening scenes of each episode. By this time we were getting mighty hungry so we found our way to Aunt Bee's Diner for a pleasant meal. With that we bid a fond farewell to the south and made a beeline for home. A trip rich in southern history, southern hospitality, scenery, country music, friendly and trusting small towns, packed churches, and plenty of good eating. I hope you enjoyed this trip with me.