A HUGE thanks to all those who entered our Thanksgiving Writing Contest! Congratulations to our First Place writer, Stephen Lyn Bales!
Stephen has won a $50 Visa gift card!
Stephen grew up in Gatlinburg. He's a local naturalist and nature writer and has written three books "Natural Histories," Ghost Birds," and "Ephemeral by Nature" all published by the University of Tennessee Press.
Read his story below:

No Stuffing before Thanksgiving

Stuffed! Some lessons in life come easier than others.
In the late 1970s, our tradition was to have a big Thanksgiving meal in early afternoon at my parent’s home in Gatlinburg. Mary Helen, my mom, and sister Darlene would be up most of the night before preparing the turkey and all the traditional side dishes. Russell, my father, would be figuring out what football games were on TV.
At the time I was a newlywed living in Pigeon Forge very close to the Sevierville City limits. I was also a male in his late twenties who loved to eat, so much so that on Thanksgiving Eve, I went out and bought barbeque pork ribs with “fixin’s,” no doubt mashed potatoes, rolls and slaw for our Thanksgiving Eve supper.
The morning of Thanksgiving I woke up stuffed and couldn’t think of eating a big lunch but not wanting to disappoint my mother.
“Honey,” I said to my wife. “I’m leaving early and going to walk to Gatlinburg. Maybe by the time I get there I’ll be hungry.”
She agreed to drive the car and leave at an appropriate time to get there by 1 p.m.
I started walking midmorning along the highway and then on the sidewalks of Pigeon Forge and past the attractions of that era: Ogle’s Water Park, Hillbilly Village, Archie Campbell’s Hee Haw Show, the Dash n’ Splash, Magic World, Fairyland and the entrance to Silver Dollar City. (It didn’t become Dollywood until 1986.)
At some point after high noon my wife caught up with me along the foothills parkway.
“Need a lift?” she asked. “No, I’m doing fine," I returned. “Just go on and tell my family what I am doing.”
When I came to the entrance of Gatlinburg, there stood my mom, a legendary walker in her own right, waiting for me on the sidewalk near Jolly Golf.
“Are you hungry, yet?” mom asked.
“I will be by the time we get home.”
Today: A check on Goggle Maps indicates that a walk of roughly 11 miles is enough to rekindle an appetite.