The changing Nashville skyline

First, I had to search to spot the “batman” building. Not that long ago it was the big dog of downtown high rises. I didn’t even try to find the L&C tower. It is now like the first little buttercup in the spring lost in the tall grass.

Once upon a time, The Life and Casualty building could be seen over 20 miles away from Jenning’s Knob, the highest point above sea level in Wison County. Not anymore.

Growing up as a boy near Carthage, Tennessee, Nashville seemed so very far away. It was a big deal in our household when someone went “all the way” to Nashville. Riding the escalators at Harvey’s or taking in a movie at the Tennessean Theater on Church Street was an over-the-top experience. In later years, when I finally secured my driver’s license, taking a date to the movies at 100 Oaks Mall and stopping at Shoney’s on Thompson Lane, was a really big deal.

On his return to the farm after World War II my father probably never ventured more than 50 miles from home over a half-dozen

times. Nashville seemed to be as far as he ever wanted to go. And he didn’t make the trip unless it was necessary.

In his declining years, when my father began to experience dementia, our family made an exhaustive effort to get to the bottom of his issues. Along with memory loss, he began to have difficulty keeping his balance. We visited neurologists and tried physical therapy. Eventually, he was referred to a major Nashville hospital for an MRI. He was not happy there. To make matters worse, he was required to stay overnight.

It was decided I would take the night shift. My mother and my brother, John, would return the next morning and take him home. He and I were in for an eventful night. At that time in the evolution of healthcare, large hospitals were experimenting with a concept called “total nursing care” which, in this case, meant one RN was assigned to 4-5 patients during the night. Our nurse had her hands full. The patient across the hall must have been a real booger as he required most of her attention. When the nurse realized I was there for the night, she thanked me and interrupted the evening as little as possible.

Around 10:00 PM my father and I fell into a routine. Every 10 or 15 minutes, he would roust and say, “let’s get out of here”, and then, attempt to get out of the bed, sometimes, throwing one leg over the bedrail.

I would counter with, “Dad, remember. Ma and John are coming in the morning to take you home.”

“Ok,” he would say as he laid back down.

This went on into the wee hours of the morning until we both had had enough of each other. That’s when he decided to change his strategy.

First, he sized me up. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Then, he started the negotiation.

He pointed to the cabinet at the foot of his bed.

“My clothes are in that cabinet right over there,” he said. There was cunning in his eyes.

“If you will bring me my clothes, I’ll put ’em on and we can slip right out of here, and “they” will never know it!”

“Why, we could go all the way to Nashville, and “they” wouldn’t know a thing!” he said slyly.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him we were in Nashville.

But in his mind Nashville was still a faraway place where we could never be found out.