By Mike McGraw
Executive Director
My new favorite team in Indiana is the Brown County Eagles. It isn’t because of their great athletic ability, or a tradition of legendary success.
No, it is because they represent the soul of Nashville, and that is a truly great honor.
The story you are about to read has nothing to do with athletics. However, if it doesn’t renew your faith in human nature, call the doctor because something is seriously wrong.
This is a story of misfortune transformed into one of the most pleasant experiences I can remember, all due to the kindness of some remarkable people in this small Southern Indiana town.
In my role with Hoosier Authority, I spend a great deal of time traveling to communities all over the Hoosier countryside. On the afternoon of Aug. 12, I had to be in Edinburgh at 1:30 p.m. ET and then travel to Ellettsville, home of the Edgewood Mustangs, for a 4 o’clock appointment.
After a cordial sit-down with Edinburgh Athletic Director Tim Jordan, I left the land of the Lancers and proceeded down I-65 to Columbus, where I hit State Road 46 and headed west toward Bloomington. This route would take me through Brown County and the town of Nashville.
Suddenly, my day took a turn for the worse. About six miles east of Nashville, my air conditioning suddenly stopped, and all of the gauges in the car went to zero. Despite having no electric power, the engine continued to run, but it began to sputter a couple of miles before reaching Nashville.
Luckily, the car made it just far enough to die in the parking lot of a gasoline station on the edge of town. I went inside and asked the clerk if there was a mechanic nearby.
That set in motion a remarkable series of events.
She informed me that a repair shop called Brown County Tire was just across the street. Naturally, I walked over and asked if someone could look at my automobile. The owner, a man named Ray Guffy, immediately had one of his mechanics stop what he was doing and walk with me to see what the trouble was.
A quick inspection revealed that I would need a new alternator. The mechanic, Doug Blendin, called the parts warehouse and was told the nearest one available was in Columbus – Ohio. And that it would take two days to arrive.
Now, my wife was out of the country on business, and I had two daughters at home, neither of which is old enough to drive down and pick up poor ol’ stranded Dad. The situation was quickly deteriorating into one of those minor disasters in life upon which we all look back and grumble: I obviously was not in a position to be stranded in picturesque Brown County for two days.
That is when the fine folks of Nashville came to the rescue.
Mr. Blendin thought for a moment, then announced that he had an idea. He called an auto dealer in Bloomington, who said they had the alternator I needed. Doug then told me that if he left work early and headed to Bloomington right then, he could pick it up that day, take it home with him for the evening, and then rise early for work and have me on the road by 9 o’clock the next morning.
I thanked him profusely for going out of his way, then turned my attention to solving the problem of finding a hotel for the night and somehow getting to that location.
Enter the second ludicrously kind citizen of Nashville.
It just so happened that Brown County Sheriff Buck Stogsdill was at the tire shop shooting the breeze with a couple people. When he heard me question if there was a cab company in town, he stopped his conversation and told me not to worry – he would stick around and give me a ride wherever I needed to go.
I decided the Comfort Inn sounded fine, and we climbed into his squad car to head in that direction.
During the ride, I asked Stogsdill if there was a store or pharmacy within walking distance of the hotel where I could pick up some toiletries for the evening. He told me he could take care of that problem as well. The sheriff radioed the county jail, and we detoured to the facility.
Stogsdill then had an officer bring out one of the grooming packs they have for “overnight visitors” to the jail, and I now had everything I needed … at no cost. Buck then finished taking me to the hotel.
At this point, I was thoroughly impressed with the kindness of Nashville. Yet, there was more to come.
I entered the hotel and was greeted by Jessica Knight and Cheryl Glascock, the desk clerks on duty. They cheerfully asked me how I was doing, and I responded that, under the circumstances, I was doing very well.
I then related the experiences of the previous hour, commenting on how nice the people of Nashville were being. Not to be outdone, Jessica and Cheryl immediately discounted my room for the evening.
By now, I was the happiest man to ever have car trouble.
Later in the evening, I walked over to a nearby restaurant lounge for dinner and soon found myself engaged in conversation with a local resident whom I believe may have known more trivia of Southern Indiana basketball than any man alive. We spent at least an hour and a half trading tales.
It was, simply, a wonderfully entertaining dinner.
Being completely amazed at the outpouring of hospitality I had received, I returned to the hotel and called our managing editor, one Edward S. “Grumps” Aylsworth. Knowing full well that Shawn expects the worst out of anybody who isn’t both a Led Zeppelin fan AND has a net worth of less than $25, I thought the story would goad him just a bit.
To my surprise, his immediate response was, “When you get home, write this up pronto and we will post it on the site.” So, I did.
Here is to the citizens of Nashville, Indiana. Folks, you make me proud to be a Hoosier.
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