Fingerprints of Faith in Algood

Algood, Tennessee — a small rural town next to Cookeville and part of Putnam County — was pretty much like any small-town USA when I was growing up.

We had a few local gas stations, eateries, a grocery store and a funeral home. A railroad track split the north and south sides of town. A large rock quarry, originally owned by Richard Poteet, was located there. Many of the roads and construction sites throughout the region were built using limestone from that quarry.

When I was in seventh grade at Algood School, just down the street from the quarry on Main Street, you could feel it every day. First a vibration. Then a quick shake. That was the daily blast from the quarry.

Our science teacher, Mr. Jerry Barthelemy, assigned us to gather rocks for a collection. My dad, Clarence Hunter, hand-made me a wooden board and stained it so I could glue my rocks to it, placing each one in order and labeling what it was and where it was found.

A typical day in Algood for me and my friends Terry and Marcia Flatt, along with my cousins Lynn, Bobby Jo and Kenneth Benson, often meant playing in the cemetery or exploring around the rock quarry after hours. When the last worker left, we would head out searching for treasures.

Behind Keith and Glaudene Richardson’s house was a tall mountain of rocks that led to the top, where you could see all over Algood. We found calcite, pyrite — fool’s gold — limestone and quartz. On a good day, you’d find that one special piece.

Coming back down and crossing the railroad tracks, you could find granite lining the rails.

After our adventures, we would stop at Richardson’s Grocery for an ice-cold RC Cola and a Moon Pie, or sometimes a Coke and peanuts, maybe a candy bar. What I remember most about that grocery store was the smell of animal feed when you walked through the door — and always a greeting from Keith or Glaudene.

And some days were “bologna days.”

Keith would pull out that long stick of bologna and say, “Is this enough?” With a “yes,” he’d slice it off, then ask, “How about cheese?” Oh yeah. Your choice of bread or crackers, and a feast was set before your eyes.

After that, we would head home. The Bensons lived across from Algood Cemetery. The Flatts were on Durant Street. I lived at 127 Chilcut Street in the Mirandy Heights subdivision. We’d say our goodbyes and go home to whatever Mom and Dad had waiting for us — mowing the yard, cleaning our rooms, or sitting down to watch TV as other family members came home.

At the end of the day, it was bedtime. Another day. Another adventure.

Another deposit of something God was showing us — even though we didn’t know it at the time.

Those fingerprints of time shaped our faith as adults. God has a way of working through moments we often overlook. Then, in a time of need, we realize He showed up long before our situation — waiting for us to catch up.

Faith, family and friends made our little town special.

Even now, with a Super Walmart and growth all around us, Algood still holds those memories. Some have moved. Some have passed on. But my generation still holds the keys to what made Algood so special.

I pray we continue to grow Algood with that same foundation. My son, Matthew, now serves on the Algood Police Department. He grew up there. Went to Trinity Church there. Went to school there. He knows many of the same families I grew up with.

Generations will continue to make Algood a special place.

I encourage you to visit. Shop. Eat. Play in the park. Drive around and feel the rich history of the families who built their lives there.

Well, I’m a little tired and ready for bed. Maybe a sweet dream of Cedar Street is ahead of me.

I’m blessed.

I’m from Algood, Tennessee.

Good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

An old saying that still rests deep in my spirit.