In this fourth part, I am continuing my journey down memory lane! We are making a move from Mississippi to Tennessee. Sometimes I go off on a tangent, almost like following a rabbit down a hole. Other times, I just get sidetracked by how much my kids and I have been through and I lose focus on the topic—neighbors. I get overwhelmed with emotion when I think back to this chapter in my life and I am thankful for the people that were there, even if it was for a brief moment in time. Let's get on the road!
It's time for this was just passing through Mississippi Girl to Waltz into Tennessee with my family now including three boys. A new job opportunity for my husband was taking us 400 miles northeast to Tennessee. The house sold quickly, and before we knew it, our life was packed up and loaded onto a truck. We set off for a new state, with new neighbors, ready to start the next chapter as a Volunteer. In this post, there will be a lot of overlap, and back and forth with time, over a period of 13 years, as I introduce some of the people that had an impact on my life at the first two addresses I lived at in Tennessee.
Moving to a town that was steadily growing, but still maintained its small-town charm seemed like a good option. It had a mix of older neighborhoods and newer areas, with a university at its center, bringing a youthful energy and a diverse mix of people. Though the big city wasn’t far, life here was quieter, and it felt like a place where everyone knew each other. Back in 1992, new businesses and developments were just starting to spring up, but it still had that slower, close-knit atmosphere.
I don't know if we stayed at a hotel, or when exactly we moved into this new neighborhood. We had a rental for a year, and I remember it was a nice subdivision with community events. The guy next to us had an immaculate yard—a beautiful lush, green lawn. I am having trouble recalling details, but I don't think I participated in the community gatherings. I have a vision in my head of being in a woman's kitchen—the blue and white diamond-patterned glossy tiled floor shimmering in the sunlight—everything in its proper place. I remember bowling, and being asked to become a certified youth coach—which I accepted and completed. I don't recall much else.
After leaving the rental when the lease was up, we bought a house in a welcoming suburban community that boasted of two bowling alleys, a skating rink, and an amusement park! This town was made up of mostly older neighborhoods, providing a friendly atmosphere where families connected easily. While close to a busy city, it offered a relaxed atmosphere and a sense of belonging, making it the perfect place to start another chapter in our lives. During my twelve years at this address, I met a lot of people both personally and professionally.
Shortly after moving in, there was a major ice storm and all the huge trees surrounding our house became scary and dangerous. When the time was right, I called a tree service, and although it got off to a rocky start, he agreed to take down a few trees on a payment plan which I later learned was not the norm. We immediately hit it off and a couple of years down the line, I would work for him. Although he continued to keep records on a steno book, I created a customer database on the computer for not only record keeping, but to have access to customer information at the touch of a button.
I can't and never will be able to express enough thanks for what this man did for me and my family. We would typically start out each workday going to a restaurant to eat breakfast on his dime. Every day while I was working and the boys were in school, he either took me or let me use a vehicle to go to their school as needed, whether it was to administer their medicine or to participate in an awards ceremony, he was always very supportive. I could not have created a better job, or dreamt up a better boss.
I feel bad at times because I can't recall many things he talks about involving my family and me. From coming along on family vacations to weekends on the boat to celebrity customers, I get a sense, but no real memory. I am sad I am so far away, and unable to help him now that he is on his own after the passing of his wife a few years back. I am grateful he does a lot with a neighbor and has others checking in on him. Today, as we were talking, he sent me a photo along with permission to share it on this post. With eight decades of life experience behind him, he still defies expectations and embraces the freedom of the open road.
While I couldn’t have asked for a better boss, my neighbors also exceeded the best of my imagination. My next door neighbors were an amazing couple with three children a bit older than mine. We attended the same church and they loved my children and supported their activities as I did theirs! Our youngest children even shared the same birthday, ten years apart! Their oldest son would become a marine, then a state trooper. My kids loved when he would come by with his police cruiser. Their youngest son, slightly older than my oldest son's age, played bass in a band for a while, but now has settled into family life. Their middle child, a daughter, was truly remarkable. We were really close, playing on the same softball team—her shortstop and me third base.
One Sunday morning, instead of going to church like she did faithfully, she decided to work her fast food job. She was only sixteen, but it would be her and her manager's last morning to live—a serial killer was on the loose. It was a tragic loss that affects me deeply to this day. When their daughter's life was taken in 1997, a friend and I created scrapbooks for the parents and each of the sons. I am not ashamed to say, I was traumatized. I was a basket case, but wanted to help in any way that I was able. I created a website dedicated to looking for her killer, and met a lot of people both online and off. Thankful, the murderer was finally caught, but not before taking five more lives.
Fast forward to 2005. I would move away and our paths rarely crossed. However, in 2011 after years of being away, a few other addresses, and a divorce, I ran into her at the store. It was so good to see her in person! She poked me a little about the parking lot lights going out as they often do when I am near, and did a quick catch up about our kids. Just two months later, I would also lose my middle child, and being reconnected with her really helped. I don't think it was merely a coincidence. Fast forward another twelve years to 2023, when I visited Tennessee for my grandson's birthday, my youngest son and I stopped to see them—still in the same house. It was nice to catch up and meet their youngest grandson, about the same age as my youngest grandson.
Rewind back to the mid 90s. My neighbors on the other side were an older couple, much like the older couple from my own childhood—except these neighbors grew tomatoes instead of rhubarb. They loved talking with the boys when they were outside playing. At some point, they converted their downstairs into an apartment and rented it out to a young couple with a toddler. As a welcoming gift, I gave them a boxful of Disney movies on VHS tapes that the boys no longer watched. To the best of my recollection, after the owners passed, this couple bought the home, and disputed the fence line between our houses. In the end, our fence was well within our property line. I do recall not caring for them after this incident.
One neighbor across the street had grandkids that attended school with my kids, another was a racecar driver and it wasn't unusual for him to be working on his car in the driveway. Another neighbor on our street always put on a big Halloween display and we would stop and visit with them during this time. She was always so wonderful about supporting the kids in their school or church fundraisers. Other than the road itself, which was a cut through street, it was a nice area for my children to grow up.
The first church we attended was at one end of the street with the elementary school being only a block away from the other end of the street. The bowling alleys and skating rink were within a mile from the house. Many of my relationships evolved from church, school and bowling. There were a few other parents that had children close to my boys ages. I also made friends with older people in the church in an attempt to include my husband, 19 years my senior, in activities. We mostly socialized with others during church or school related events. However, if it didn't include the boys or bowling, my husband wasn't interested in socializing!
I held yard sales often—it is something I had always enjoyed. It would be amazing to travel the Rt 127 yard sale, a 690 mile trip reaching from Alabama to Michigan, but for now, back to the neighborhood! There was a building within walking distance of our house that I always kept an eye on with dreams of someday having a little junk store. Anxiety, and lack of support, kept that dream from materializing.
I remember during one yard sale, I met someone that was looking for things for her stepson that was going to be living with her and her husband fulltime. I gave her a few things, but one item in particular was a hand-crafted wooden rocking elephant that my brother made. Honestly, seeing the elephant triggered flashbacks of memories I was trying to forget. They moved away, and we lost touch. Years later, I got a call from a security company that her alarm was going off and I was her emergency contact. I saw her one time after that when I found her address and made a trip to her house. I don't recall the actual meeting at all. I have wanted to call her, but outgoing phone calls create an overwhelming amount of stress. Her husband, at the time, traveled to churches delivering a message through music and comedy, he has since passed away.
I can't go into great detail about everything that unfolded between the mid-1990s to the mid-2000s, but it was a tumultuous period in my life. The world around me was chaotic, and personally, I faced a barrage of significant difficulties. Some memory flashes race through my mind. in no specific order. Losing my grandmother, my oldest son going to live with my parents—only to to be kidnapped and abused, the chaos of 9/11, husband's job loss after a major company bankrupts, five eye surgeries, two suicide attempts, the threat of divorce, five days in jail for a crime I didn’t commit, my middle son’s seizures and my youngest son's mysterious medical ailments—all while I fought to find stability and solutions.
My mental health took a toll, and I became increasingly overwhelmed by everything happening around me. I struggled silently, as no one truly understood the weight I carried. After leaving the tree service, I got hired as a substitute teacher. A year later, I enrolled in the university—determined to get my bachelor degree. In what field, I didn't know. It is difficult to express just how little support I received at home. When someone doesn’t value education because of their own experiences, it becomes difficult for them to understand the kind of encouragement and support needed to pursue a degree.
Now in 2005, with everything happening in such a short span of time, it’s no wonder I don’t have many detailed memories. I housed all the pain, all the turmoil, all the lies, within my already overburdened mind. I no longer socialized, keeping to myself, withdrawing further as I poured myself into work and school. My husband was able to retire after working an additional three years, but at what cost and at whose expense? We lost our home and we had to move, again—to be continued.
2 Samuel 22:29
"You, Lord, are my lamp; the Lord turns my darkness into light."
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