The semester is dying a slow death, ladies and gentlemen. Just when I think I've finished up all my obligations, another pesky thing creeps in that I have to handle. But, ready or not, I'm leaving for sunny CA the day after tomorrow. So, pesky things better get on board.
Just a word about the last few weeks before I get to today's actual topic. I finished up all my final projects just in the nick of time, thank goodness. The beautiful and amazing Dr. N. generously gave me an A in the Japan class. The experience of learning Japanese history yielded unexpected results. I loved the subject matter and found a lot of theoretical methods I may be able to apply in my own research. Plus, Dr. N. provided a model of just what a good teacher can do in a grad reading seminar, just like Dr. P. and Dr. S. did last semester. Running neck and neck with Dr. N.'s Japan for best class is Dr. W.'s world history. I got completely caught up in my final project for her, a syllabus for a world history upper division course based on world's fairs and expositions. No grade from her yet but many encouraging words. Sadly, the course in African American history did not go as well as I would have hoped. No grade for that class yet, but I'm not expecting much. Just glad it's over.
On to happier subjects. Early in the semester, Alicia suggested a day trip to the Bell Witch Cave just north of Nashville. We planned our trip for the end of the semester, and spots in my car were quickly claimed by Adrien, Minami, Chantalle, and trip sponsor Alicia. I rounded them all up this past Sunday morning and off we went in Stella down I-40 west.
Just getting to the entrance to the Bell Witch site proved tricky. Sudden stomping on breaks, reckless turns, following Internet instructions, and a couple of close calls with beavers and turkeys--all to learn that the cave and "museum" were closed. We'd all been hoping for a scary encounter with a witch who, according to legend, had a presence so powerful that she frightened Andrew Jackson off the Bell property. Andrew Jackson! And he was Ol' Hickory!
Now, a normal group of grad students would have given up, had lunch in Nashville, and driven home. We are not a normal group of grad students.
We decided first to head over to the Hermitage to say howdy to Ol' Hickory. On the way back in that direction, we stopped at the Bell family cemetery to pay our respects to the nice people whom the Bell Witch had haunted.
While heading toward the Hermitage, Alicia had yet another flash of inspiration. We would go to Franklin, Tennessee, not too far from Nashville and indulge in a delicious Civil Wargasm.
First, Franklin is an adorable town with a Main Street lined with shops and eateries. Gorgeous houses, lots of brick. Lots of people milled about enjoying the beautiful Sunday as we drove past. Without getting lost, we found our way to the Carter House, a.k.a. the House of a Thousand Bullet Holes.
The Carter House stood pretty much dead center in the Battle of Franklin on November 30, 1864. Touring the house, we learned the story of the Unionist-leaning head of the household and his Confederate sons, one of whom died right in the hallway from wounds received in the battle. The family and a few neighbors, including several children, stayed in the house's cool, dark cellar for twelve hours until the battle was over and it was safe for them to emerge. We stood in that cellar and found it easy to imagine the footsteps of soldiers in the house, the creaking of the floor overhead, the shouts, the smells, and the hand-to-hand combat that took place right on the back porch. The bullet holes peppering the house and a few of the outbuildings tell the story of how fortunate the family was not to be included in the battle casualties.
Also as part of our tour, we learned that the Carter House and the Battle of Franklin Trust that funds it, have been successful in acquiring a bit of the land of the original battlefield, land which until recently held modern buildings. It was heartening to see a town like Franklin working hard to preserve its Civil War history.
Back into the car, and we headed to the sister site of the Carter House, Carnton Plantation. Like the Carter House, this home had also been on the front lines of the battle, on the eastern flank. The house served as a hospital for Confederate casualties of the battle, with the lady of the house serving the wounded with such dedication that she was still remembered fondly at the time of her death in 1905. The plantation is home to a Confederate cemetery as well as the family cemetery.
Here was our only supernatural occurrence in the trip. As Chantalle stepped out of the family area and into the Confederate part of the cemetery, the camera on her phone went a little crazy and added weird colors and lines to her photos. For a group anticipating a scare from the Bell Witch, this would have to suffice.
The military part of the cemetery was divided by state. Large makers stood for each Confederate state with soldiers in the battle and each included the number of dead from that state. Then, each body had its own, smaller, often-unmarked headstone. For reasons unknown to me, pennies had been placed on nearly every headstone and state marker. Why on earth would Confederates want Abe Lincoln on their headstones? I think Alicia did the courteous thing when she put a nickle on the market for her home state of Florida. After all, at least TJ was a fellow supporter of slavery.
In front of one individual headstone, a wreath on a stand had been placed, probably around Christmas as the wreath seemed to have been composed of pine boughs. Across it was a ribbon that read, "We dared to defend our rights." Yeah, right to own slaves!! Grrrrrr....
If was a wonderful tour of the sites associated with the Battle of Franklin. We turned east toward Knoxville and chatted and laughed all the way back to town. An especially long, loud laugh came when we discussed which historical figures we'd like to have sex with. Little Minami, so sweet and gentle, chose Immanuel Kant with the ominous threat "I will crush him." She's pretty fierce, our Minami. Kant in the afterlife might want to think twice when he's approached many, many years from now by a Japanese Ph.D. from UTK.
Our final stop of the evening was the Cancun restaurant for dinner. Delicious food, margaritas, and fried ice cream polished off a day that was ridiculously fun from beginning to end.
I guess that trip sort of sums up what I love most about my first year at UTK--the people. From the fifth-floor lounge and the party office to the many other offices and classrooms, from Calhoun's to the Downtown Brewery to Franklin, it's been amazing to meet and come to love the wonderful, talented people who make up the History Department at the University of Tennessee. While I'm anxious to go home to my loved ones, I'll also be anxious to come back here in a month to be with these special people again.
A special note to Alicia: You were one of the first people I met that awkward day of orientation. You've made me laugh and think and enjoy life in Knoxville. While you are off to grand adventures in the Peace Corps, I hope you know that you take a little piece of my heart with you. Good luck in all your endeavors.
Knighty-Knight from Knoxville!
