A Labor Day Story for you!
This is the story of Lady Di, Big John, and Ashley Judd
In the spring of 1993, I introduced two dear friends to one another. Joel Tomlin, father of 5, sold real estate with me at Pilkerton Real Estate in Nashville, Tennessee. Joel had an extra ticket to The Steeplechase, Nashville’s premier outdoor party and fundraiser for Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital. “Joel!” I exclaimed, “You’ve got to invite my friend Carol!”
“Tell me more,” says Joel.
I proceeded to tell him about my dear and precious friend Carol, mother of 2. “All I can say is once you are in the presence of Carol’s joyous personality and stunning smile you will realize you are have hit the jackpot for the best date to the Steeplechase!”
On the Monday morning after the Steeplechase festivities Joel says to me, “Celeste, you didn’t tell me Carol is the most beautiful woman in Nashville.”
I smile knowingly and say, “Surprise!”
On February 19, 1994, Joel and Carol married at our house. All seven children were thrilled to be brothers and sisters and our three families began a series of lifelong friendships and adventures.
Now during those years, Joel was not just a realtor but also a Scout leader, camper extraordinaire, a lover of the wilderness and the outdoors. If you know Joel, you know his laugh fills a room, he is always full of good will and he loves to get to know ya! Today, he and Carol own and operate the wonderful Landmark Booksellers in Franklin, Tennessee.
In the mid 1990’s Joel’s love of land, interest in camping and ability to dream big combine in a perfect opportunity. He acquires a grand parcel of land off of the Natchez Trace. The land is beyond Leiper’s Fork, Tennessee but if you reach Fly, Tennessee you have gone too far. Joel has a vision for this land to become a paradise of five acre Adirondack home sites. We are the beneficiaries of his dreams! While a dam and lake are being built, roads are being cut, and building sites are staked off, we get to go camping/glamping. Joel sets up tent platforms, cleans out a small vacant house for him and Carol and asks us often to join them for weekends at “the property”. Joel knows how to cook like a chef on an outdoor fire and our ten plus children loved every minute of these weekends together.
During the Labor Day weekend of 1996, the last lazy afternoon of the summer, Carol and I are watching the girls play in the creek and wash their hair in the antique wash tub. We learned earlier that morning that Princess Diana has died a fiery and tragic death in Paris. Carol and I are, as you probably were, stunned, saddened and full of questions. We have no cell service and the news hits us hard. We take a walk, cry and cry, and when returning to the camp we agree to try and keep our sadness from upsetting the children.
As we return from our walk, Joel tells us we are going to have a visitor soon. He is a neighbor and he actually dug the pond, which looks more like a legitimate lake to me. I am listening with half an ear when, low and behold I hear a four wheeler rumbling in the woods. Carol replied, “Oh! Here is Big John now!”
I want to describe Big John to you with as many details and with as much respect as possible. First of all, I actually smell Big John before I see him. A combination of sweat, perspiration and is that a farm animal smell? Later, I learn I am spot on all scents. Big John has many goats and lambs at his place a few miles from this property. He is not inclined to bathe or wash his clothes because, a) they will just get dirty again tomorrow, b) he doesn’t have a washing machine, c) in this humidity even if he did wash his clothes they wouldn’t dry and d) he can simply wade into his own creek fully clothed for a bath. “Huh,” I think, “this is a very practical guy. I don’t think I would wash my clothes either.”
Big John limps up the makeshift porch, and joins us in our camping chairs. He is one of the tallest and heftiest people I have ever met. Joel introduces us all around. We all shake hands with Big John and I try to look away from his foot. Joel helps me out by immediately asking, “John!” (Evidently we’re not going to call him Big John to his face.) “What in the world have you done to your foot?”
“Well, that nurse that lives up the road from me says I broke all my toes when I dropped that machine on my foot. I don’t take to going in town to a doctor so I just decided to cut the end out of my boot and just let em heal.” explains John.
Joel, “Those are steel toe boots John!”
John, “Yep, it weren’t easy.”
I keep an eye on the girls as we continue to talk. Kathryn and Abby have brought a friend, named Helen. Laura, Hannah, Emily and Lauren are happy to play with Will, treating him like a doll of their very own as they wash his hair in the metal troth for the millionth time.
Joel and Adam must be off in the woods exploring. Our sixteen year old daughters, Maggie and Tara, seemed to miraculously have other plans when we sojourned to the great outdoors.
I notice John has brought some papers and a few magazine looking materials with him. Joel notices too, “Whatcha got there John? Are those the specs for the second pond?”
“Nah. I got this here magazine in the mail and I wanted to show it to ya. It’s got my picture in it.”
We all lean forward to see, what I am expecting to be The Fly Times or maybe even The Tennessee Conservationist. I am still stinging from the news about Lady Di but I lean forward halfheartedly to take a look. To my immense surprise John hands a copy of a shiny women’s high fashion magazine to Carol. Low and behold there is Big John in living color! He is sitting on a porch in the same royal blue pants, work-shirt and boots, the toes are still intact, with the one and only Ashley Judd. They are on the porch of a small General store in Fly, just a few miles from here. Miss Judd is smiling and Big John is looking a little dubious in the photo.
Carol and I go a little crazy, “Wow! Big John! You are in a magazine!”
Big John, “Is that good?”
Hmmm, I think, is that good? This magazine is the world‘s definitive fashion magazine plus it contains great articles and I do splurge on the phone book thick fashion issue each September. But, is that good? A very tricky question in these times of emerging body issues for women…
Carol saves me from my feminist conundrum by simply stating a fact, “This is one of the most popular magazines in the world!”
Who is this guy Big John? He moves on to tell us a story about a cousin’s death. The cousin lived a few counties away and since John cannot drive his four-wheeler he decided to walk to the funeral, taking the straightest shot through woods. At dusk he decides to sleep for the night and comes upon a graveyard. This is, he thinks, the safest place to sleep. He tells us that curled up on a cement rectangular tombstone that is about his size and falls into a deep slumber. About midnight John awakes to something warm around his neck and he realizes a snake has decided to join him as he rests on this tombstone. I. Am. Gobsmacked.
I cannot sit quiet, “What!!! You let a snake curl around you while you slept?!”
“Ah yeah. It weren’t nothing. Snakes get cold at night and he needed to have a warm spot for the night.”
I realize my college education at Furman and Vanderbilt have taught me very little about this world.
I look over at my husband, he is pale.
Suddenly Big John says, “Hey! You think these girls would like to go wading in a new waterfall I found ?”
Kathryn, Abby and friend, Helen, have towel dried their hair and hear this invitation. I look at the four wheeler which has two seats in front and a bench seat in back. These braced faced, pony tailed wearing girls are so excited about the possibility of this non suburban activity that they run to climb in the back of Bog John’s four wheeler. Without hesitation, Carol volunteers to stay at the campsite and be available for the other children. I climb into Big John’s vehicle, not taking time to change out of new Nike Shox and into my creek shoes. I remember that I was wearing overalls and the girls were singing a song by Hootie and the Blowfish.
I hold on tight and reach back to grab Kathryn’s knee in a futile attempt at some kind of safety. We drive up and out of the rocky ravine of the campsite. We drive over fields and through woods. We drive down gravel and dirt roads which I learn to call “chirt roads”. The girls’ singing stops and they are quiet for a while. I begin to wonder if they are also wondering, “Where in the blazes are we? Are we still in Tennessee?” I maintain my smiling mom smile, never letting them see me sweat, when thank the Lord in heaven above Big John says, “Just down this way now.”
I notice the sun is getting lower and as we descend into a new creek bed I see the beautiful running water. The girls are thrilled and barely wait for Big John to come to a complete stop before jumping out and into the running water. I tumble out of the four wheeler, keeping an eye out for the three preteen girls. I stand back from the water a bit because you know, new Nike’s. The girls clomp up the beautiful clear running waters in their old tennis shoes, oblivious to anything other than the freedom of a new adventure together. Big John notices my hesitation, sees me leaning out to keep my eyes on the girls and takes the situation literally into his own hands. Before I can protest, object or even think, Big John has bent down, hoisted me over his left shoulder and is carrying me up the creek and towards the girls.
I clearly remember my thoughts, “Oh my precious God in heaven above what is happening? I just met this huge new friend (?) a few hours ago? Who is he? Plus, where are we? I am in charge of these girls and I don’t even have a cell phone with me, not that it would work… he is actually carrying me, and is he going to take us to a beautiful waterfall or to our bloody demise? Will this be my turn to be featured in The Tennessean, like Lady Di? I imagine the headlines, “Well Meaning but Overly Trusting 37 year old mom with new Nike Shox and 3 Preteen Girls Found in Unmapped Tennessee Creek”.
I try to shake these headlines out of my head. How dangerous can he be? His photo was in a shiny fashion magazine for goodness sake. How should I play this? If I appear scared, I will scare the girls. I have never had a good poker face but Lord in heaven now is the time.
So I laugh and say, “Hey! I want to join the wading fun!” I must look a sight on Big John’s back, my stomach is pressed into his shoulder and I cannot see the girls because my head is hanging over his back. Man is he strong. I am in flight mode so I don’t even notice his signature body scent.
Kathryn finally looks up and do I imagine a look pass over her face that says, “Why is my mom on Big John’s shoulder?”
I want to tell Kathryn, “Kak, get Abby and Helen and let’s get out of here!” These are beautiful 11 and 12 year old girls and I will gladly lay my life down them.
However, we have no vehicle of our own, no cell phone and I don’t even know if we are in
Tennessee or Alabama. Have we entered Northern Georgia?
I begin to wriggle down exclaiming as I go, “Oh forgot about these new shoes! I want to wade too!” John gently bends over so I too am in the cold running water. I join the girls as they sit in the creek and happily slide down the rocky waters.
I think of Princess Diana, her continually documented personal life and her tragic death. I channel my inner Lady Di and do not let my fear show. I play in the creek and I play it cool, not letting these precious angel girls know I am a bit of wreck inside.
I am glad John has let me down because I am pretty sure I have wet my pants.
The girls frolic and I am successful with my poker face. Once again I realize there are so many life skills you cannot learn in school.
The result of our afternoon adventure was obviously positive as my fears were never documented in your daily headlines.
This weekend, Labor Day 2020, is the 24th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death.
I am filled with much somber gratitude.
Our friendship and camping adventures with the Tomlins, my friendship with Carol, the positive legacy Princess Diana left, the social justice role model Ashley Judd has embodied, and now having time to reflect on the crazy wonderful times take some of the sting out of this unprecedented year 2020.
The Chocolate Drawer 