Quote of the Day

"In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins, not through strength but by perseverance."

H. Jackson Brown, Author was born and still lives in Middle Tennessee. His numerous books are in 35 languages and read throughout the world claiming 158 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list. It is sometimes noted that he graduated from a prestigious university and is the recipient of one of their most distinguished awards but, who knows? If you were to phone the administration office, they would probably deny that he ever attended. It seems hard feelings still linger regarding Mr. Brown’s insistence that the campus clock tower he pledged to help fund be in the shape of a 150 foot slice of pepperoni pizza. An image, he argues, all students recognize as the midnight fuel, GLORY, YES!, even the “sustenance of success” that nourishes and ensures the college’s continuing graduation of esteemed donation-loyal doctors, lawyers, clergymen and franchisees of south Alabama Dairy Queens. When contacted, the Campus What’s Appropriate Committee, or CWAC (pronounced SEE-WACK), stated that the pizza matter is “still under consideration, but don’t count on it. It’s a lot of dough.”

Currently, Mr. Brown writes in a remote log cabin high on Hatchet’s Ridge in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. There he retreats to observe, ponder, resharpen No. 2 pencils and train his parrot to squawk, “One more step and I’ll shoot.” Should you want to visit, get an early start. Take the gravel road east out of Crowell Corners to the end. There it becomes a dirt road switch-backing up the ridges. A hand-lettered sign nailed to a hickory tree teasingly identifies these last fifteen miles as Broken Axle Trail. The cabin is not the first or second on this dusty corkscrew but the third. You’ll think you’re almost there, but you’re not. And count the creeks. You’ll cross two. The first on a tricky two-plank bridge. The second, unfortunately, offers no bridge at all. Now look for the weathered tin roof and the trellised front gate crowned with honeysuckle. Pay no attention to the dogs Dan, Hoover and Hot Ticket asleep on the front porch couch. But be careful where you step. The copperheads, rattlesnakes, and wild hogs love this bit of heaven as much as Mr. Brown does.