Maeburl Tincher
In the summer months, Momma would send me to fetch the mail at the mouth of Jutts Creek.
I loved this chore, because it afforded me the opportunity to visit with neighbors, friends and relatives. There was always the chance for a good laugh or a mindful conversation.
The half circle at the mouth of Jutts Creek is a part of old U.S. Highway 129.
Just to the left of where the two roads intersect sat a small bolder under a large oak tree, which doubled as my roadside arm chair.
From this perch, I would observe the passing traffic, which included Trail Way buses, taxi cabs, the Old Shea Steam Engine and long limousine-like touring buses.
In that era, transportation took on many forms. In fact, you could ride with the postman if you were lucky enough to catch him out on his route.
I especially enjoyed the limousine buses that were branded with the commercial heading “Smoky Mountain Tour Company.”
The cheerful riders would stand up through the sunroof to enjoy the fresh air and beautiful mountain scenery. I would smile and wave happily for them on their way to a new adventure. They would wave and smile back at me.
As I sensed the time running short, I would pick up the mail and head toward home. Along the way, I would replay the scene in my mind and wonder where those people were from and where they were going.
Through the years, the road along my life’s journey has carry me to places both near and far.
In time, I would experience my own adventures and endeavor to leave the footprint of Jesus in the hearts of those I met along the way.
In 1992, I purchased and managed a small Asheville-based tour business which provided historic guided walking tours, a step-on guide service and receptor services for military reunion locators.
On one occasion, I was desperately short handed for an upcoming tour. Knowing that Bob Terrell – a retired writer and editor – was knowledgeable about the history and architecture of downtown Asheville, I decided to reach out to him and offer him the opportunity to tour with me.
To my surprise, he handily agreed.
Bob was a true gem and a native of Western North Carolina, hailing from Sylva-Webster.
His wisdom and wit made him an instant hit with the tourists.
I was honored to share the work with him for several years and even helped co-host a trip to the Middle East. It was his 27th trip and my 6th one.
Fetching the mail unwittingly had a profound effect on my sense of wonder and adventure.
Since then, I’ve traveled many roads and met many delightful people – across the United States and abroad – but the one place that lingers in my soul is the garden tomb in Jerusalem.
There, my savior rose and one day I shall rise too. Then another adventure shall begin with wonders anew.
Maeburl Tincher writes a monthly column for The Graham Star. She is a native of the Jack Branch community.