It was an overcast morning on Thursday August 4, 2016 when we left the LaQuinta Inn in Jackson, Tennessee. By the time we drove the 129 miles to Nashville, however, the skies had brightened up and the threat of rain was over. My photographer had promised his wife that there were no Presidential sites on his agenda for Nashville. After all, he had taken me to all those historic sites two years earlier while we were in the Music City. I was surprised when I heard him mention to Vicki that he would do his best to find a place for lunch that featured a live country band. Was he trying to appease his wife after her outburst at Clinton’s Library? My guess was an astounding “yes”; but at the same time, I didn’t blame him. I figured if Tom could stomach an hour or so of country music, then I could handle that crap too.
Even though there were no Presidential sites in our forecast, I did tag along in the camera case throughout the entire day. We had begun our sightseeing time at the Country Music Hall of Fame where Tom and Vicki saw hundreds of stage costumes, guitars, and other artifacts associated with country music and its stars. I was surprised when the name Elvis Presley came up a few times; to me he was the King of Rock and Roll – not country music. And speaking of Elvis – our second stop of the day featured a tour of the RCA Recording Studio B where Elvis had recorded a lot of his music. It is also the oldest surviving recording studio in Nashville.
It was after 2:00pm when we returned to the Hall of Fame after our Studio B tour. Since it was time for lunch, my photographer and his wife walked two blocks to Broadway where they found a place called Honky Tonk Central. Vicki thought it would be the perfect place to eat and listen to a live band. We got lucky and found a table close to the stage where a band called Hoss Skelton was playing. At one point during our stay, I had to laugh to myself when the band’s fiddle player, Katie Marie, walked around soliciting tips. What I had found funny was when I heard Tom say: “I’ll drop a ‘Hamilton’ in your hat if the band plays a KISS song.” Needless to say, my cheap photographer kept his cash.
When lunch was over, our final stop in Nashville was a return visit to a place we had been to in 2014 – Antique Archaeology from the TV show “American Pickers”. My photographer and his wife enjoy visiting regular antique shops and flea markets, which meant that Mike Wolfe’s place was right up their alley. After walking around the hundreds of overpriced items that Mike had picked in the past, we hit the road around 4:15pm and headed for Kentucky.
Tom’s goal was to drive the 220 miles into the Lexington area, which would put us in close proximity to our next day’s rendezvous with the Claiborne Farm in Paris, Kentucky. It was later than usual when we pulled into the Country Inn and Suites on the eastern side of Lexington. As a matter of fact, when I was placed onto the desk in our room, I noticed the alarm clock read exactly 7:30pm. For me, it was good to get out of the camera case and stretch my already damaged legs. Although I didn’t know for sure what to expect at Claiborne Farm, I did know for a fact that we were almost 400 miles from home and my photographer had planned on making that trip non-stop after our tour of the farm.
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Our tour of Claiborne Farm was scheduled to start at 10:00am on Friday August 5, 2016, which gave us a little extra time to explore downtown Paris. After we made one lap through town, we headed South along Winchester Road for nearly a mile before we saw the words “Claiborne Farm” etched into the marker imbedded onto the stone gateway. We had roughly 20 minutes to kill before the tour began, which gave my photographer and his wife time to visit the small cemetery that was situated just behind the farm’s main office. Roughly twenty headstones were strategically placed in the equine burial ground, but the one that was significant to us was situated just inside the brick entryway – the final resting place of Secretariat. Secretariat was arguably the greatest racehorse of all-time after winning the Triple Crown in 1973; his time in each of those three races are still records today. After he retired to Claiborne Farm, Secretariat lived the life of a stud until he contracted the painful equine disease laminitis and was euthanized at the age of 19 on October 4, 1989.
Once the hour-long tour of the farm began, Vicki was like a kid in a candy store. Not only was her wish fulfilled of seeing the picturesque fenced pastures where racehorses freely roamed, she also got to pet two famed thoroughbreds – Orb and War Front. Orb had won the Kentucky Derby on May 4, 2013; but failed to win either of the next two legs of the Triple Crown. War Front never won a major race, but his offspring have had success in Europe, which raised his stud fee to $200,000 in 2016. During our walk around the premises, Vicki also got to see the paddock where Secretariat hung out in the 1980s.
It was 11:15am as we pulled out of the Claiborne Farm driveway and headed for Michigan. From my position in my case on the back seat, it seemed to take forever to get back. I think part of my anxiety was knowing that I faced immediate surgery on my legs once we arrived home. Since it was nearly 7:00pm when we pulled into our driveway, my surgeon waited until the next day to repair my damaged left leg. On August 6th, Tom carefully applied plumber’s putty to the open area of my shin; then he waited a week before he repainted my stocking. My legs once again looked good, but our travel trips were finished for 2016.
While I stood silently on the living room shelf throughout the winter months, I watched as my photographer mapped out and planned our 2017 summer trip. Not only did Tom plan a two-week adventure throughout the New England states, he also scheduled a smaller trip that was centered on Vicki’s Christmas gift – two tickets to NASCAR’s Night Race in Bristol, Tennessee. Even though I’m not into motorsports, I was confident that Tom would find a few Presidential sites for me to visit while we were in Tennessee. All I could say to myself was: “Come on July”!
