Restoring Wynnewood
February 14, 2008

Our hearts go out to our neighbors who were affected by the Feb. 5 tornado outbreak that ripped through Tennessee and other Southern states. Striking late at night and into a terrifyingly lightning-lit early morning, the supercell-spawned tornados killed more than 60 people and caused hundreds of millions of dollars in damages. Coworker Bill, who lives in Gallatin near one of the twister touchdowns and was closer still to a 2006 outbreak, offers his poignant perspective on the storm that once again hit right in his backyard.

One of the properties that suffered extensive damage by the tornado was a historic one: Wynnewood, the largest existing log structure in Tennessee. About half of the two-story historic stagecoach inn in Castalian Springs is now gone, much of the surviving structure has shifted several inches off its foundation and more than 100 trees—many of them beautiful, large Eastern Red Cedars—were destroyed.

I recently had the opportunity to see some of the damage up close: On Saturday, Feb. 9, some friends and I headed north from Nashville to aid in the tornado cleanup in Sumner County. We were assigned to the Wynnewood site, where we worked alongside members of the Bledsoe’s Lick Historic Association to clear massive amounts of tree debris and heavy brush as well as help recover historic artifacts.

When his chainsaw wasn’t buzzing, Anthony Angel, one of the association’s members, pointed out the devastating path the tornado carved across the landscape, a storm that arbitrarily took the life of a mother and saved her year-old baby all within view of Wynnewood’s front porch. By the end of the day my friends and I were pretty darn tired, but we left amazed and inspired by the dedication of community members. Check out some of our photos here.

There is good news on the horizon for Wynnewood and those dedicated to its preservation. Tennessee Gov. Phil Bredesen has pledged that the house will be rebuilt. And I’m looking forward to covering the site’s upcoming Colonial Fair and Wynnewood Mayfest in American Spirit, the magazine we publish for the DAR. To learn more about the restoration and to contribute to the project, go here.

“Have your photo’s enlarged for just $1.99!”
Those were the flashing red words on a huge drug-store marquee when I drove by last week. And as I type this in Word, it doesn’t understand the problem.
The problem is: That sentence — the word “photos” — does not need an apostrophe.
Apostrophes serve several purposes, the two most common are to show possession and contraction. (As a refresher, a contraction is a shortened form of a word or group of words where the missing letters are replaced by an apostrophe. Example: we+will=we’ll, should+not=shouldn’t.)
The word “photos” as it should be above is simply plural, not possessive. And it’s certainly not a contraction.
Example: We’ll take John’s car to the meeting.
Example: Don’t let Julia’s daughter leave before giving her a hug.
Other not-so-common uses of the apostrophe
An apostrophe is used when one or more letters or numbers have been left out of a word.
Example: I am part of the graduating class of ’90.
Example: Top o’ the mornin’ to you!
Another rule, one that looks funny and is hard to remember because it does: When a word calls for two apostrophes, simply eliminate the second one.
Example: Patrick is learning the do’s and don’ts of driving in Nashville traffic.
Which brings up the final common use of apostrophes: Use an apostrophe when creating the plural form of a letter, number, sign or word discussed as a word, not as its form of speech.
Example: He knows the do’s, now he just needs to work on the don’ts.
Example: Please remove all B’s and 9’s from this page.
If you’re just bustin’ at the seams to learn more, Grammar Girl takes the apostrophe discussion a step further in a recent post. Enjoy! We sure do.

Grieving Again
February 6, 2008

Less than two years after tornadoes battered my home town, Gallatin, Tenn., narrowly missing our house, a wave of storms swept through Tennessee and again brought death and destruction to my neighbors. The twisters with their distinctive freight train roar passed farther from our house this time, as I watched TV and listened to weather radio from about midnight to 2 a.m today (Feb. 6).

They hit a community called Castalian Springs, named for a spring near Delphi in Greece. It’s a pleasant little area, populous enough to have its own post office but still a rural stretch more crossroads than village. It also had a historic stagecoach inn, Wynnewood, that many folks have spent years restoring.

I should say they had their own post office – the tornado crushed it, along with numerous homes, and also heavily damaged Wynnewood. At least 7 people died in that area, and police shut down State Route 25 that connects Gallatin to Trousdale County to search for more victims. Like the visitors to that ancient, ambiguous Oracle at Delphi, the folks in that community are searching for answers amid the debris.

The storms then moved east, striking Trousdale County and its main town, Hartsville, and then Macon County and its principal town, Lafayette (we pronounce that La-FAY-ette.). Lightning apparently touched off a huge fire at a natural gas pumping station in Macon County – I heard the glow could be seen in Nashville. Nobody knows yet how many people died or were injured in these areas, although there were estimates of as many as 20.

I’ve been to and through those areas, often for a previous client of Hammock Publishing, Sumner Regional Medical Center. They’re pretty and rural and inviting to folks who want to have big yards and safe places to raise kids; places that have been farmed in some cases for generations by the same families; small businesses such as lip-smacking meat-and-three restaurants. And, jarringly, the abandoned concrete carcass of a never-finished TVA nuclear power plant.

Having seen up close in April 2006 what tornadoes can do, I can tell you that pictures simply don’t convey the extent of the damage. To stand in a neighborhood that once held apparently solid homes and be surrounded by piles of rubble – often higher than the roofs of those houses – makes one feel very vulnerable, and at a loss as to where to start. I grieve for my neighbors and share their feelings of loss.