A treasured gift

Sorry I haven't written for a couple of days. Haven't felt too well. Got the crappy spring crud.

Tonight, Jenn brought home a box that turned out to be a wedding present from a friend that is a nationally-known columnist and writer. Included in the box were a piece of pottery and a book inscribed to me entitled "Gatlinburg and The Great Smokies."

The book is a collection of columns originally filed by Ernie Pyle for the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain (I work for its current incarnation, E.W. Scripps) in the fall of 1940, written during his visit to Gatlinburg and LeConte. It was collected in 1951 by The Mountain Press.

What a treasure. As you may know, Ernie is one of my heroes. My greatest source of pride about working for Scripps is being able to say I am employed by the same company for which Ernie Pyle once worked. Of course, I'm in the Rookie League and he was a major-league star. Jenn and I visited Ernie's grave at the Punchbowl in Honolulu when we were in Hawaii last October.

The book's forward says: "They (the columns) are good reading -- by one of the truly great writers of our time. They are about things close to the heart of all who love the Smokies. They are simple (as is all great writing) sincere and touched by a quaint and whimsical humor.

"I wish to thank Loye W. Miller, Editor of the Knoxville (Tennessee) News-Sentinel, and Bert Vincent, Strolling Reporter, for their help and cooperation in re-printing these columns."

It is signed C.C. Callaway, Gatlinburg, Tenn., 1951.

This thoughtful gift will be treasured as long as I roam this earth.

The speech

I joked that I'd shown up because I'd seen a light on and was looking for food, but guess who was asked to speak to the senior citizens at Beaver Dam church last night?

Yeah, I know. They must not have been able to get anybody else.

I love speaking to seniors. They're nice. They cook well. They get my references to radio shows and Lawrence Welk. They applaud even when I try to sing.

So, I told them about the time I got all tongue-tied when I met Tom Selleck in New York. And I said that I used to want to be an Oak Ridge Boy when I grew up. (I still do, come to think about it.)

And I told them about Catfish Dave and Bruce Blakely and Ed Byer and several other super stories it's been my privilege to share over these past 11 years.

I told them that the thing I loved most when Sandra Clark sold the Shopper to Scripps five years ago was being able to say that I work for the same company that once employed my hero, war correspondent Ernie Pyle.

I like Ernie because he hung out in the trenches with the troops. And he wrote well. A favorite observation: "When you go long enough without a bath, even the fleas leave you alone."

My other hero, the late, great Charles Kuralt, who worked for CBS News, has a great quote. "The everyday kindness of the backroads," he said, "more than makes up for the greed in the headlines.

I told the seniors at Beaver Dam that, too. And I believe it.

Thanks for having me, y'all.

God bless an American hero

On this day in 1945, war correspondent and Scripps-Howard columnist Ernie Pyle was killed while covering the conflict in the Pacific.

His last words, to Lt. Col. Joseph B. Coolidge after the Jeep in which they were riding had been shot at by Japanese machine guns, reportedly were, "Are you all right?" The Japanese machine gunner opened fire again. Ernie was fatally wounded.

God bless a true American hero.

Life's real heroes, somewhere 'On the Road'

My dream is to one day travel from sea to shining sea, notepad and camera in tow, finding and telling the stories that really matter, those about so-called ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

Charles Kuralt, the reporter who told such tales better than anyone else, once said that "it does no harm, just once in awhile, to acknowledge that the whole country isn't in flames, that there are people in this country besides politicians, entertainers and criminals." He made a career -- a rather good one -- doing just that for CBS News, both "On the Road" and as host of TV's best news program, "CBS Sunday Morning."

Kuralt, and Ernie Pyle -- who in his wonderful way also wrote about such folks during World War II -- are two of the few journalists who deserve to be called heroes. They are mine.

I have tried, in my feeble fashion in my little corner of the country, to share such stories about such people. I do not have one-tenth of Kuralt's talent, but I keep trying. His is a fine example.

I found a clip containing several of Kuralt's best "On the Road" dispatches on YouTube. It can be found here. The entire program, aired on "CBS Sunday Morning" a few days after Kuralt's 1997 death -- on Independence Day, no less -- is worth a look.

Have to share this personal aside: The day Charles Kuralt died I was vacationing with family in Jackson Hole, Wyo. They planned to hang out with friends that afternoon. I didn't feel too terrific. By then I already had rumblings I wanted to be a writer and had spent many Sunday mornings before church in awe of Kuralt's poetry.

So I stayed behind and decided to walk to a little bookstore -- it's no longer there -- to hunt something to read. Lo and behold, on the shelf sat a paperback copy of Kuralt's memoir, "A Life on the Road." I spent the afternoon alone, reading and remembering.

I don't know if I will ever get the opportunity to file dispatches from Walla Walla, Wash., or Beaufort, S.C., or a million ports in between. Meantime I will keep plugging away here in Halls, telling tales and swapping stories, knowing deep in my heart that the true heroes aren't in Washington, New York or Hollywood. They are out there, in the big expanse known as the heartland, somewhere "On the Road."