From Cedar Street

Seasons of Life and Stories That Stay With Us

Something I have learned in my 61 years is that a large majority of friendships are only meant for a season in your life.

I have had the opportunity to know many people, both famous and not so famous. At the end of the day, each one has left a fingerprint on my life. People may be close to us for only a brief period of time, but we do not forget those who cross our paths. Instead, we let go with the understanding that someday those paths may cross again, either here on earth or in heaven.

Growing up in Algood left many impressions on me. I still keep in touch with a few friends today. Those are what we call lifelong friends. Others represent a distinct layer in time, people you will carry in your heart forever.

My advice is simple. Enjoy all those who helped shape who you are today.

I recently visited the Algood City Cemetery and took time to walk among the graves. It struck me that much of the history I write about is now laid to rest there.

As I passed each headstone, a story came to mind.

The very fabric that made Algood what it is today is marked by tombstones, each with a simple engraving, a name, a beginning date, and an ending date. I often wonder if those individuals realized they were heroes in their own way, people of honor who walked these streets daily, whether in business or as everyday members of the community.

The cemetery has grown over my lifetime, with several additions. Many of the people buried there are individuals whose funerals I attended. That is part of living in a small town. When one family suffers a loss, the entire community grieves with them.

Neighbors, church members, and friends would bring food, cards, money, and support during those difficult times.

Tragedy, too, is part of that history. There were losses from car accidents, household accidents, and on occasion, even violence.

One memory that has always stayed with me is of a young man who shared my name, David C. Hunter. Many thought it was me when word spread that he had been killed in a car crash between Cookeville and Sparta. The only difference was our middle names. Mine is Clarence. His was Chon. I attended his funeral, as his family were neighbors of my grandparents.

There are many others.

My uncle J.B. Hunter rests there beside his son, my cousin Eddie Hunter. Richard Poteet, owner of the Algood Rock Quarry, is buried there as well. His headstone is a large piece of limestone from the very quarry next to the cemetery.

I remember hearing the story of a 12-year-old boy whose home caught fire. He carried a potbellied stove out of the house to protect his family, sacrificing his life in the process.

There was also Janie Sharp, a young girl whose life was lost in a car crash, a tragedy that shook the entire town.

And of course, many of my own family members rest there. My father, Clarence Hunter. My brother, Billy. My little girl, Lori Ann. My grandparents, the Nelsons. My uncles Bill, Estel, and Vestal Nelson, and my stepfather, Earl Cooper.

I could write all night about the stories connected to that cemetery. Perhaps I will share more another time.

The people in our lives, even for a short time, help write our story.

A person you spend a great deal of time with today may only be there for a season. Do not be offended by that. Instead, hold on to the memories of that time and place. You are living and recording history with every moment.

Take hold of every second and cherish it.

My mind is clear and my soul is at peace as I write this.

It is bedtime, and I look forward to tomorrow, another clean page in the story of life.

Life is what you make it.

Choose your battles wisely. Often, being the better person means laying down your sword first. Remember, people are watching you.

Are you being the hands and feet of Jesus, or something else?

That may sound like language from my earlier days, but the message still holds true.

Sleep in the peace that God has for you.

Until next time, from Cedar Street. Be blessed.