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Published: December 29th 2008
So I am in Arkansas right now. It is just after sunrise and I am in a place I can only describe as "Trucker Heaven" here on the other side of the Mississippi River. The look, the smell, the feel, the people, did I mention the smell? I have a lot to share from a full day yesterday but I need to start this with a most recent story.
So I got into my hotel room at about midnight last night. I needed to crash so I checked in grabbed one bag, my laptop, a change of clothes, and headed up to my room (202). First things first, the key didn't work so I had to walk back downstairs. The woman at the counter forgot to authorize my key... ok... happens. Go back up to my room and get in. It is freeezing. I set the heater to low, jump in bed and fall to sleep. I am sleeping great until about 2am. I wake up from my sleep and feel disoriented. It smells kinda funny in the room but then, again, it smells kinda funny everywhere here. My eyes are kinda stinging so I try to rub the sleep
off. Now, let me freeze it here for a moment. I am in my boxers in a motel bed in a dark hotel in east Arkansas. Now, have you ever heard sparklers before? You know the sound they make. So, I start to hear that sound. I look up and realize the room is filling with smoke. I look over by the window and the outlet where the heater is plugged in is firing off sparks like a July 4th firework! I realize the smell I was smelling is burning wires. Next thing I know the plug bursts off the outlet and flames start bellowing out. The freakin' hotel room is on fire!!!
I jump out of my bed and now the smoke is starting to fill the room. I kick the plug clear of the flame and run into the bathroom. I grab a towel, soak it and run back into the room. I grab the phone to call the front desk. Ok, for dramatic effect, let's run through this one moment-by-moment:
Pick up the phone and dial zero. Hurry over to the wall that is now burning up into the curtains. Woman at the front desk picks up.
"Hello. Do you need a wake up call?" I start whipping the towel against the burning outlet to try and kill the flames. The outlet literally spits sparks at me in defiance. "NO! MY ROOM IS ON FIRE!!!" I keep whipping the outlet. It isn't working. The towel is getting charred black by the sparks. "Excuse me? Did you say you're room is on fire." The curtain catches. I kick the curtain out. "YES! YOU MAY WANT TO CALL SOMEONE! THE WALL IS BURNING!" I kick the door open to relieve the smoke. I realize I am standing in my boxers whipping a towel at my wall. "Oh wow... a fire! That's insane! (long pause).... well, can you put it out?" Are you kidding me?!?! That's all you got? "I AM TRYING! I AM WHIPPING THE WALL WITH A TOWEL!!!" I keep whipping the wall. Finally the flame kicks out. Smoke is still pouring out though. It looks like the fire is in the wall. "Ok... is it out? I am going to move you to another room. You can come down here to get your key." I keep violently whipping the wall b/c I am sure the wires are
still burning. Again, more sparks bellow out. A small flame reappears. I throw the phone. I start whipping harder. The fire kicks out again. The smoke stops coming out. I give a few more courtesy whips. I kick the heater in frustration and the panel falls off. The fire is out! The room smells like burning hair and baby toys. I change into my clothes, grab my things and get out of there. I go to the front desk.
The woman at the front desk is standing there with a waiver form. "Is is out?" "Yes, I took care of it. Do you have another room for me?" "Yes, I just need you to sign this. I am a little concerned. Should I call the fire department." "I would think so. I left the door open. You may want to go check it out." "Sorry about that." "It happens."
So I get my new room, walk in, immediately unplug the heater and every other appliance in the room. I go to sleep, this time with my pants and shoes on. I woke up this morning and realized my stuff was all in disarray. Leaving in a hurry I just
stuffed things into the bag. I start taking stock and realize my camera is missing. I left it in the demon room. I walk out of my room and around the building to the other side. The door I left open is still open. I walk in and the towel is still on the floor, the heating panel still on the floor, the bed still unkempt. I find my camera under the covers. The front desk woman never even came and checked! Her motel could have burned to the ground on her watch with dozens of guests sleeping and she didn't even bother to check it out!!! Ladies and gentlemen, Motel 6.
Going back to yesterday, I pulled out of Nashville around 10am and the drive down to Jack Daniel's was about two hours. Jack is in an area the locals affectionately refer to as "The Hollow." The region is Moore County. Total population, 361. 400+ work at the Jack Daniel's Distillery so they outnumber the locals. Jack himself came to this spot specifically for the Cave Spring Water. It has been flowing pure for over 100 years. No one knows the source. They have traveled miles up
the cave only to have to stop where it got too tight to continue. The final verdict: who cares where it comes from as long as it keeps coming. Jack is bottled and distributed in nearly 150 countries. It is crazy to think that people all over the world are enjoying this whiskey which comes from a little spring in backwoods Tennessee. The water run through virgin limestone which naturally purifies it, making the final product virtually iron free.
So Jack is made of 4 things. Corn, rye, malted barely, and cave water. Add yeast for fermenting and six days later, you have whiskey. Now, the process doesn't stop here and this is where it gets really interesting. Ever wonder why Jack tastes different than other whiskeys? It doesn't have that same strong kick that bourbons do. The key is mellowing.
The young whiskey (now about a week old) is a clear 140 proof liquid. They take this liquid and drip by drip run it through ten foot high barrels filled with sugar maple charcoal. The charcoal is hand packed and lasts anywhere from 6 months to a year. When the Master Distiller "tastes" the end product and
realizes that the charcoal is no longer acceptable, production is brought to a halt and the barrels are changed.
The whiskey runs through copper pipes and drips like a leaky faucet over this charcoal. The journey through the barrel for one drip of whiskey takes ten full days!!! This process strips the whiskey of any impurities, smooths out the taste, and lowers the proof. The final product now and only now can officially be called true "Tennessee Sippin' Whiskey." This is the difference between Jack and all other whiskeys including the Kentucky cousins. It is the mellowing. Bourbons and other whiskeys are not mellowed and thus, are not Tennessee Sippin' Whiskey.
Every gallon of whiskey distilled here is made the exact same way. It is what happens after the fact that makes the different brands. The Black label, from here, is barreled and housed in a barrel house for at least four years before bottling and distribution. The Green Label goes through the same process but sits in the barrel house a little shorter. The Single Barrel is set aside and housed in custom built barrels to harness different tastes and then housed in the rafters of the
barrel house so the elements can work at it stronger. Gentlemen's Jack is taken from the mellowing barrel and then ran through a second time to make it even smoother and richer.
The final step is the barreling. They are crazy about this process. The barrels are all custom built by a master craftsman in Louisville, Kentucky. No nails, screws, or glue are used to avoid impurities. The wood is hand selected white oak. Each piece is toasted to release rich vanilla flavors and then fire charred to caramelize that natural sugars within the wood. mmmmm. This will be the whiskey's home for the next few years. Now, who wants a Jack???
One final thing from the distillery. How is it that the world's most famous whiskey is distilled in a dry county? Simple. It takes 2,500 people to vote the county "wet". Only 361 people live there and they don't really ever expect to have 2,500 people. So unless all of us agree to move into Moore County, it will forever remain dry.
Driving across Tennessee on the back county roads instead of the Interstate was a good choice. It was gorgeous country and the
aromas of smoking campfires prevailed through the whole region. There were cowboys riding horses on the road-side, dozens and dozens of churches and of course... rolling hills.
I did find my first Kingdom Hall. I missed the meeting by a couple hours but the service group was heading out. I got to chat a little with them. Their territory, spans 40 miles north to south all the way to the Alabama border and then about 20 miles East to West... They were jealous of the fact that we can go out preaching 24 hours a day 😊.
One young guy named Aaron Smith is a transplant from Madison, Wisconsin. He moved down here to be with his sister and is looking to find another place to settle down but money issues. I thought this was a good story to share because it highlights the economic struggles taking place across the country right now. He worked for his first year at the air conditioner factory before getting laid off at the down turn. He found more work repairing tractors but expects to be laid off in a few weeks as the work has dried up. In terms of working
options, that's pretty much it. He would like to find more work but doesn't know where to go. He wants to relocate but has car issues and doesn't trust his car to make a long distance journey. He sees some of the friends in the congregation driving new cars and he would like to get something nice. Your heart reaches out to this guy because he is well-meaning but is stuck in a situation that isn't offering many options right now. Hopefully things will turn around, but regardless, he had a firm smile on his face and a very solid, positive outlook. He was more concerned about the preaching work then his situation. It was a good example of turning problems into solutions.
Getting to Memphis was a great pay-off. Memphis is a great city! It sprawls out in suburbs for miles but the main city is really only a few downtown blocks on the banks of the Mississippi. I had a checklist of things I specifically wanted to accomplish in Memphis:
1. Walk down Union Avenue while playing Marc Cohn's "Walking in Memphis" on my iPod- CHECK
2. Eat Cajun food down on Beale Street in a Blues
Bar- CHECK
3. Catch my first sight of the Mississippi River with gospel music playing on the radio- CHECK
4. Hit a local record shop- CHECK
5. Visit Graceland- that's for today.
Sorry I know this thing is long but one more thing I wanted to share. I talked briefly about Katrina the other day. Well, last night, I met a personal story. Her name is Dallas, born and raised in New Orleans. She is a heavy-set southern girl with dark hair and a few tattoos but a simple face with pretty features. Her personality had rough edges but a gentle kindness came through. She lived her entire life in New Orleans. After high school, she went to school at the University of New Orleans. While at school, Katrina hit. Her eyes were teary as she recalled the events. Her mom, at their rented home, had to be rescued as the flood waters decimated the home. Dallas, herself, was stranded in her 3rd floor dorm room as the levies broke. She spent 3 weeks stuck in the 3rd floor dorm house with nothing to eat but vending machine food and nothing to drink but Pepsi. She developed stomach diseases
from the conditions that persisted for over a year. When she finally got out, she was shipped over to Houston where her mother was waiting. Now homeless, they gathered the family together and spent the next few years living there. Now, this is only half of the story. Dallas is married with children. She married her high school sweetheart after getting pregnant at 18. Over the next two years she had 2 children. So, now homeless, out of school, and out of money, her husband decided the best option was to join the army because it was guaranteed money. So he went to Iraq. Over the next few years he served several tours.
I asked her if he believed in the cause. She said he never cared. All he wanted was the money. I heard anger in her voice. She explained how several of them believe the government allowed the levies to break. She started firing off theories about how upper class neighborhoods were sparred while the levies broke in all the poor neighborhoods. She said their levies were no better and they should have held just the same. And here is where everything in her life changed. When
that levy broke, the already poor people were left with nothing. For many of them, the only remaining option was to join the war. This is what her husband did. She stayed behind, faithful with the kids while her husband openly carried on several extra-marital affairs overseas. When he returned with a strong case of PTSD, he became a violent drinker and spent all of his time out drinking with his friends. Enough was enough and she filed a divorce.
She spent the next year trying to find herself and get back on track with school but the dragging divorce, the young children, the mounting gang violence in Houston which resulted from New Orleans gangs transplanting to the turf of Houston gangs, and her own personal set of problems, she couldn't cut it. Fed up, she finally needed a clean break. Her mother took her kids and she has spent the last year living in Memphis, trying to find herself and get back on track. Unfortunately, Memphis has not been paved with gold. She works as a bartender but has not been able to dig out of any holes. She is forced to share an apartment with a drug-addicted
bartender whom she plans to drop in the upcoming weeks. The plan is to move to Massachusetts with her mother and her children in the summer, finish school and get a job to support her family. The ex-husband will not factor into these plans.
She has never left the south in her life. She "can't cook a lick unless its some good ole' Cajun cookin." She is a self professed "big-butt Cajun woman with a hard attitude and not an inch of grace." Her eyes light up when you say New Orleans. Talking football, she remembers being reduced to tears of joy when the Saints went on their post-Katrina miracle run to the NFC Championship. She simply said, "that mattered." She doesn't know if she will ever be able to live in Louisiana again but said as firm as rock, "no matter what, when I die, I want my bones in that dirt." I admire the passionate connection these people feel for "their dirt". Coming from an area like the northeast, we can not understand this but spending just one night in the area, I can understand why people feel this way down here. Dirt is life. It is
enriched by the banks of the same rivers that threaten to destroy it. These people have grown so dependent on the resources of family and community, left behind by the rest of the country, forever outcasts, their ties literally run into the ground. They are rooted in this land.
What the Dallas story highlighted to me is the contrast between dreams and reality. A young woman plagued by adolescent mistakes, beaten down by a system that has provided no assurance, but ultimately remains fully alive and proud to be what she is.
All the best,
Matt
P.S. Album List- Day 4
1. Elvis Presley- Gold Records
2. Hank Williams- The Early Years
3. Johnny Cash- Personal File- Disc 1
4. Johnny Cash- Persona File- Disc 2- This was all christian songs and gospel songs. It was just in time as I descended deep into Bible Belt country. On the 22 mile trek from the Interstate to the JD Distillery, I saw 21 churches on just that one road. That is a church a mile for counties made up of a few hundred people!
5. Lynard Skynard- Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd
6. I had several public talks on cd
that I got through
7. Marc Cohn- The Rainy Season
8. Lucinda Williams- Car Wheels on Gravel Roads
9. Memphis radio stations
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Linda
non-member comment
all I can say is WOW
what a night with the fire in the room....... so glad you woke up and got out ! ! The sky pictures were absolutely inspirational. Each one was like a painting. The story about Dallas was so touching, and the info on Jack was very interesting. What an amazing adventure this is turning out for you ( and us readers ! ! ) Onward Moondogie. Love you and miss you and can't wait for the next entry....................MOM