B&T Sunshine Tour 2022 - Day 2

You never know how the day will go until well…the day goes. We started out looking for the Hatfield's in Pikeville but B was not really in the mood and we didn’t have a real plan so I didn’t complain. Later, in Tennessee though, we made a stop at a gas station and found a flier for a Hatfield-McCoy Self guided drive through that passes by grave yards and points of interest (killings?). If only we had had that the day before. It would have been a perfect tribute for a Pikeville visit. But we so loved the 23 South experience that we will be back and you gotta leave room to explore for the next time.

B was excited to get back on the road so off we went. Again taken by the beauty of 23 South, we traveled 3-½ hours to Ashville, NC. The cloudless blue skies were stunning against the Appalachian mountains. As I viewed the mountains to my right I kept seeing these stripes that waved along. I thought they were logs at first but turned out they were the tree’s shadows creating these flowing trails. It was gorgeous though trying to take pictures at 60 miles an hour wasn’t real successful.

I find that often I miss the best pictures because I’m in too much awe of what I see before me. This was particularly true of the blue ridge mountains so I downloaded a photo from the web taken by a Michael A Milton that does it justice.

Layers of blue shades lined the bright blue sky. The forests that cover these mountains are predominately made up of spruce and fir trees and they emit isoprene, a building block molecule for many compounds, into the atmosphere creating the blue hue! A moistness glistened my cheeks once again for the gorgeous sites of the world we have been blessed with to explore. I’ve missed it all for even longer than I thought. I flew from place to place for years to other wonderful places while missing so many glorious sites along the way. This trip was eyes open wide!

The Biltmore was a place we had hoped to hook up with B’s brother and his wife who live on their mountain in Vilas, NC. It didn’t work out this trip, but my husband was impressed by the estate layout so we planned to visit the house Day3. We shopped a bit and overheard a constant buzz of ‘You must come, We love to come for Christmas time at the Biltmore!” It was a full moon and a gorgeous night this night! I image it would be magical at Christmas.

Back in our room, we discovered that our nephew, Blake, and his wife, Kate, were only 90 minutes away. They were camping at a KOA in Blountville, TN off I-81. They had been traveling from upper California where they packed up their 6 cats, 1 dog and a snake in an RV to sojourn cross country to their new home in Maidens, VA! Unbeknownst to us, we must have crossed paths around Kingsport, TN earlier that day.

Smiles and sleep were coming much easier these days!

Bingo!

Twelve years old in 1967 and we stood appalled at where the world might lead a body and its mind. Francine and I had worked with our Girl Scout troop for hours collecting baby food jars, soil, moss, tiny flowering herbs and ribbons to tie around the bottom of small, handcrafted terrariums. They were gifts of spring for a local home for the aged. We were excited to be selected as ambassadors for our troop and took the responsibility quite seriously.

Upon our arrival, friendly nurses asked if we wanted to take the gifts to the residents. Delighted, we started to go bed to bed along a corridor. Old, wrinkled people lay in the beds; some chipper, some not, some simply not there. Our gifts were greeted with joy though. It seemed even in this state of woe, their best faces met us as we came by. We smiled and chattered through emotions neither Fran nor I had ever experienced. Drama unfolded when handing the small terrarium to a woman who perked up and accepted it with bright eyes. Her elbow pulled the perceived treat to her wide open mouth. Fran and I both lunged to snatch the terrarium away as she went to bite into it like an apple. Our shuffling drew the attention of a nurse who realized these two little girls might be over their heads. She offered to distribute the rest of the gifts. Fran and I were only too grateful and took our leave.

Two indignant young girls flew up the stairs to my house. We talked through the events of the day over and over convinced that it was the fault of the nurses that these aged human beings lived in dire straits. My dad counseled if we were so passionate, we should send a letter to the local paper. We considered that; but, the information we had didn’t seem sufficient to justify our indignation formally to the whole town.

I’m glad now at 55 years old that we held off writing that letter. The experience may have been traumatic to Fran and me, but those nurses were caring for people, whether sick and dying or lying deserted and depressed. For myself, even though I lashed out against them, I did not really get a sense of cruelty from the nurses. I was shaken at the sights, sounds and smells of circumstances I did not know or understand.

My husband, B, and I have been calling Bingo at an assisted living facility for a couple years now. Each week provides a thought provoking reflective mixture of community drama, fun and sadness which I will begin to serialize here. It’s been in my heart for a long time. I’m looking forward to organizing and releasing my insights and emotions; be they right or wrong.