Bobbie Lovell remembers only one time when she was jealous of another person. She was in the seventh grade when her teacher instructed the class to “take out some paper and draw.” Bobbie recalls the teacher telling one of her classmates that he had the potential to become a commercial artist. She wanted to be the student the teacher felt had the gift.
Spring may still be a month away, but, just like the tourists, we take advantage of every sunny day sandwiched between cloudy, rainy days. One sunny February day, I took my children and their bikes to the Gatlinburg Trail.Publication
A little more than a year ago, I went to a Society for Professional Journalists seminar on open records laws. The first insight on the federal Freedom of Information Act was, “It’s broken.”
Best I remember, I’ve seen the Academy Awards or Oscars TV program one time. That was when I was in college and went by my fraternity house, where some members and their dates were heavily involved in discussing who or what should win each award. However, some follow-up news about the 2014 ceremony caught my attention this week. I’m referring in particular to the acceptance speech by Best Actor winner Matthew McConaughey.
You’ve seen them on TV, those gawky kids who, in pursuit of national spelling-bee glory, nervously spell out words like ptyalagogue and avellaneous.
With two horse-drawn hearses and a Model T Ford hearse, Jim Atchley founded Atchley Funeral Home on March 1, 1920. The funeral business was a sideline for People’s Furniture Company, which he operated with his brother Charles “Charlie” Atchley, who had just returned from serving in World War I. Charlie Atchley later sold his interest in the company to Jim, who became the sole owner.
You might remember reading in an earlier column that two years ago, I moved back home to Tennessee after 13 years in Madison, Wis.
Amy Greene is from East Tennessee. Her acclaimed debut novel, 2010’s “Bloodroot,” is set in East Tennessee.
The sunshine landing on the table while we have breakfast seems strange after two weeks of cloudy skies which brought rain and snow. Do we know you, sunshine? Summer seems so long ago and spring is still not in sight.
Throughout the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, numerous footbridges traverse streams on more than 850 miles of hiking trails. The bridges range from narrow foot logs to wide, sturdy structures with iron framework. By reputation, one of the most impressive footbridges in the park is the handsome one crossing the upper reaches of the Little River, often called the Goshen Gate Bridge.
Technology is wonderful, particularly for those who are passionate about music, like me. Just about any song ever recorded, I can look up on my phone or computer instantly.
Sword swallowing is getting to be a lonely profession.
I appreciate the email messages in response to my Valentine’s Day column last week. If you didn’t happen to see the column, it was about the celebration, challenge and test of endurance in navigating through a wedding anniversary on Feb. 9, Jean’s birthday on the 12th, and Valentine’s Day on the 14th.
In his younger days, Levi Trentham scratched out a living trapping bears and selling hides. When outsiders started traveling to the Smokies, he made more money by skimming tourists. Then, native guides and storytellers were in demand. And the fast- talking mountaineer known also as “Uncle Levi” was a natural.
For what seems like most of my life, I’ve been having variations of the same conversation: people complaining about violence, vulgarity and profanity portrayed in our culture, whether it’s on television, music or video games.
As is usual this time of year, I have been experiencing celebration, challenge and a test of endurance. All of us have been reminded through printed and electronic ads that St. Valentine’s Day is a time to purchase and give flowers, candy, jewelry, cards or some other tokens to the ones we love. Relatively speaking, this one date is pretty easy to remember and prepare for.
In the Haas household, Pokémon is a family affair.
With Christmas behind us and several people to thank for their gifts, I sat down with my children and asked them to draw some pictures as a way to express gratitude.
I’ve got skiing on the brain. Can you blame me?
Louis E. Jones was a gifted painter who devoted three decades to capturing the unique beauty of the Smoky Mountains in water colors, oils, etchings and photographs.
An article titled “The ripple effect” appeared in The Dallas Morning News this week, written in correlation with the Feb. 5 National Signing Day for college football, the day when high school graduates show just how truly “committed” they are to the colleges to which they previously “committed.” The article is about how head coaches and assistant coaches moving from one college to another make an impact in regards to the teams with whom the players eventually sign scholarship papers.
More than 150 athletes from across the state traveled to the top of the mountain this week for the 29th annual Special Olympics Tennessee Winter Games at Ober Gatlinburg.
Insomnia has historically been a hurdle for me – going back to high school, when I would find myself staring at the ceiling for many hours of the night, my mind racing.
In Sevier County, one mountain looms over the rest. Its dark grey outline dominates the mountain skyline for miles around.
A few people remembered him as the Goat Man, others knew him as Red, and to thousands of Silver Dollar City visitors he was known as the old prospector. His natural mountain man likeness graced billboards, posters and greeting cards. Lately he was the subject of artist Paul Murray, who created etchings and paintings of him in his studio.