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For most people, there are certain vivid memories from their childhood years
that will always be tucked away in the backs of their minds, ready to resurface
from time to time when something, anything, spurs the brain to action - a
favorite toy, a song that was popular at the time, a special friend from grade
school...
For me, some of my most vivid (and most enjoyable) memories are of my maternal
grandmother Effie Parker and her home on Stoney Creek, then just a
small farming community not far from Elizabethton, TN. Although grandma went to
be with the Lord when I was still a young child, my memories of her are strong
and clear. In my mind I can see her face and her ever-present apron - I can feel
her loving kiss on my cheek and the warmth of her hug.
Grandma was a kind and loving woman, always concerned for others - never
herself. I still recall those frequent trips where we would leave our home near
Damascus, Va, drive through Shady Valley, TN, and then across the mountain down
to Stoney Creek.
That was quite a ride indeed, especially across the mountain where a young boy's
imagination could easily see our car plunging over the edge with one false move
of mom's driving hand. I was always nervous the entire way, but grandma's open
arms and great cooking always made the trip worth it. First came the hugs and
kisses, then she started cooking. Every time. You just didn't visit grandma's
house without her cooking a meal for you!
It had been some 35 years since I had last set foot on Stoney Creek when I
finally decided that my wife and I should visit grandma's old home place. I
didn't know what we would find, if anything, that I could recognize when we got
there, or even if I could find the place where her house used to be. It had been
so long and surely the community had changed a great deal. And I was right...
When we finally made it onto Stoney Creek Road, everything was
different from what I remembered from the old days. Instead of farms and
woodland dotted with an occasional house, there are now homes and businesses
everywhere you look. The old crooked two-lane road is now a four-lane, and
most of the trees have been replaced by buildings. I was beginning to have my
doubts about finding grandma's place.
But after a while the four-lane changed back into a two-lane and the trees edged
back up to the side of the road. Things were beginning to look vaguely
familiar... maybe there was hope after all.
I remembered that the gravel lane leading from the road to grandma's house went
down a bank and crossed an old wooden bridge that spanned the creek. I began
peering intently at the right side of the road trying my best to spot that
familiar old lane. I actually passed it before I realized that I had found it -
but instead of gravel the lane is now covered with asphalt pavement - and that
rickety old wooden bridge with the boards that would move up and down as the car
drove across them has been replaced by a new steel one.
But the biggest shock of all came after we crossed the bridge and started to
pull into the driveway of grandma's old house - it wasn't there. I knew it would
surely be run-down, perhaps nothing would be left except for the chimney and the stones that
supported the framing...but what we found was a new double-wide
sitting right smack where grandma's house used to be. Progress, I suppose, but a
let-down none-the-less.
As I turned the truck and prepared to leave, my wife suggested that I take a
picture of the creek - the only thing that really hadn't changed since grandma
passed away. So I stopped the truck on the bridge and got out, camera in hand,
and leaned over the edge looking for the deep pool of water that we
grandchildren had created by building a make-shift dam out of river rocks so long
ago. I knew it almost certainly had to be gone after all those years of
flooding...but to my amazement it was still there!
Unfortunately, there was no way to get a decent photo of our old wading pool
because of the tree branches, and since it was private property I felt uneasy
about crawling down the bank for a better shot. I got back into the truck and
started to pull away when my wife suggested that I take a photo looking upstream
from the other side of the bridge. I did, and the result is the picture above.
Even though all we really found that hadn't changed over the years was Stoney
Creek itself, that alone made the trip worthwhile. Now my wife knows where my
grandma lived and where her grandchildren played for hours on end in that crystal clear mountain
water. And I know that no matter how much progress changes the area, Stoney
Creek will still be Stoney Creek...and Grandma Parker will still live on forever
in my mind and in heaven above.
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