My Home Town

My Hometown
Rosa L. Parks Boulevard, Nashville

I’ve always struggled with the question “where are you from?”. For as long as I can remember I’ve never felt I had a home town in the sense that most people do. I never felt a strong sense of rootedness in any one particular place. I was born in Westchester, New York and lived there until I was 13, and I still feel in some ways like a Northeasterner, if not a New Yorker. I have family ties there, and probably the most important tie, childhood memories. I spent my next 17 years in Boulder, Colorado, and they were formative years. Still, I always knew I would leave Boulder, and though my family is there and it’s a wonderful, unique place, it’s not really where I feel I’m from, either.

Last weekend, my adopted home of 22 years, Nashville, Tennessee, endured a flood of biblical proportions. Fifteen inches of rain fell in two days. At first we made light of the situation; we even went to a party in the midst of the torrential storm that raged that Saturday night. We kept an eye on the weather report, but flash flood warnings around here are as common as biscuits and gravy. The rain kept falling on Sunday, in sheets. The word started to trickle out that the flooding would be bad. Still, we thought that would only mean a few flooded basements, maybe a couple of road closures. We’d seen it all before.

Except we hadn’t. There’s no way to describe the surreality of waking up on a Monday morning to a perfect, blue-sky spring day, and utter devastation. Water was everywhere. We took a walk in our neighborhood, and saw crazy, impossible things – traffic lights hanging just a few feet above water, entire cars submerged to their roofs. Rivers where our neighborhood streets used to be. People boating across soccer fields. By Monday morning we knew that the river was still rising, and according to the cruel physics of flooding, would continue to rise until late that night, when it crested at 12 feet above flood stage.

As the waters ravaged the downtown area, Opryland, and countless outlying suburbs and surrounding towns, we realized that almost no one from the outside world knew. And it did feel like the world was somewhere far outside this sphere of death and destruction – there was a strange sense of isolation, even though cell phones were working (sporadically) and a few of the lucky ones (us included) never lost power or internet. No one seemed to have noticed that Nashville was drowning. Normally when a natural disaster happens, the media coverage is obsessive, and if you’re in the vicinity the telephone calls start coming in almost immediately. On that Monday, the only calls we got were from friends in Nashville, checking to see how we made it and letting us know they were OK. Other news stories, deemed more important, took precedence, and we were left to our own devices (fortunately, the reaction from the White House was not slow and FEMA was here almost immediately – it was the media that was absent).

This is where it began to dawn on me how much I love this city. I can’t explain exactly why, or how, but seeing the Opry stage door, which I’ve been privileged to walk through several times, up to its doorknobs in water – knowing the beautiful pipe organ at the Schermerhorn Symphony Hall, which I heard played magnificently at a concert last year, was severely damaged – all of this terrible destruction bestowed an epiphany on me. This is my home town. These people, who put on their waders and work clothes and face masks and got to work Monday, because things needed doing and people needed help, are my fellow Nashvillians. All of us cried at the sight of the Opry under six feet of water. All of us felt outrage that the media wasn’t paying attention to this, our worst crisis since the Civil War. All of us beamed when the local telethon, star-studded and led by Vince Gill (who else would step up to lead yet another benefit, this time maybe the most important one he’s ever done?) raised $1.7 million in a few hours. I’ve never been so proud of my city, from the micro-local level (on Monday night, at least half of my neighborhood was out sandbagging at a nearby waste treatment plant) to city-wide (there was virtually no looting or other opportunistic crime – just neighbors, asking what they could do). I felt a sudden and deep stab of love for this city and all its familiar and now endangered landmarks, the beautiful ones, the historic ones and the cheesy ones alike. This city, which has by turns frustrated and charmed and ignored and loved me – just like a spouse – for better or worse, was mine, too. I have history here. I have roots here.

Nashville will recover. It’s a great city, and great cities draw creative, talented and energetic people. We have those in abundance, and they will rebuild Nashville, and in some ways it will be even better. Nashville would recover with or without me. But I’m here, and one week after the flood, I know the answer to the question. I’m from Nashville.


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  1. Grethchen,

    That brought me to tears. Beautiful. I’ve always had the same trouble answering that question too. MN, CA, FL, KY, AL but I too now proudly say I’m from Nashville. It’s my hometown too.


  2. Very well said. My wife Sandy and I come out there at least once a year. So,it hurts seeing so many places we know and have been, under water. We have several friends in Nashville and were worried how they were weathering the storm. I watched the telethon online the other night. It is amazing how people can come together quickly and do so much. We will be coming out in July for the Chet Atkins convention(CAAS. We seem to make Nashville our home away from home at least a week or two every year and hope we can for a long time.

  3. Really good piece Gretchen and a great demo by Matraca for Download Of The Month.

    Is or will anything be done to protect the Nashville infracture against a future occurance
    “We had a flood in 1975,” said Opry stalwart Bill Anderson. “When that was over, they said, ‘We’ve taken measures now, and this will never happen again.’” – It did and worse

    Sad last week to read about country singer Julie Roberts not only has she been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis but she became one of the countless Nashville residents who lost her home and personal belongings in the floods last year.

    There seems to be an increasing amount of extreme weather events. Terrifying tornados last week worst in 80 years in America.
    Is mankind not looking after a “Fragile World” Yes we are mere dot in a galaxy but “I Wonder What God’s Thinking” – ‘When the rain falls from heaven is it the tears from his eyes’ ?

  4. it’s ironic that new orleans claimed they where virtually ignored with their disaster,but unlike nashville,they did get good media attention,i’m a musician myself & feel really sda the church organ (with the german name) was destroyed & ryman centre was flooded!
    i’m in the uk,& only noticed it online today!
    ironically enough the weather here is rougher than it’s ever been this time of year, & is set to continue thru till june they say!
    nevertheless i feel theres a lot governments aren’t telling us because they don’t want panic to spread,but surely they have the technology to warn us so we can prepare ourselves? either way,my thoughts go out to tu guys throughout tennessee,& all of the U.S. who seemed to be @ the mercy of the elements these days,god bless you all!(jbbutterfield england uk)

  5. This is a beautiful piece- I know it’s old but I’m sorry to hear about the flood. It’s so great that you have such a strong connection to a place though. I’m from New Zealand and I’ve never been to the US but I hope to visit Nashville one day. Do you know Birdtalker?

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