By traveler 
Wednesday morning started beautifully but cloudy. The weather forecast called for a 100% chance of rain by noon. Most definitely not a day for me to enjoy scenic driving through the Smoky Mountain National Park. I sat in the parking lot of its Oconaluftee Visitors Center debating whether I should chance the scenic drive or get on the nearby entrance of the Blue Ridge Parkway and head for home. Then, a third option came to mind. I had just seen a Facebook post about the National Museum of African American Music‘s (NMAAM) exhibit on the Fisk Jubilee Singers. I had actually thought about going there in the early planning of this trip, but decided against it when I discovered that my trip to the Southwestern national parks, currently planned for 2026, would take me directly through Nashville. The problem was that the Singers exhibit is scheduled to close in December 2025. Suddenly, the visit to the indoor site–so what if it was over 250 miles and nearly a five-hour drive each way?–seemed doable. I got the route from Waze, and SB and I were on our way!
Rt. 441 took us through the heart of the Smoky Mountains, allowing me to get several more pictures. We crossed the state line into Tennessee, then through Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge to Knoxville, where I-40 took us the rest of the way to Nashville. As I drove, I saw a beautiful rainbow that filled the sky. I’m guessing that the rain that followed is the rain I had just driven through and would be headed east towards the Smoky Mountains. Then I saw a Bojangles setting beside a McDonald’s, and the sight struck me as particularly funny. It now seems that there are more Bojangles in the South than even McDonald’s, which I would have thought was impossible. Yet, the chicken and biscuit restaurant appears to be everywhere.
Nashville is incredibly busy, especially the music center. It demands further exploration–perhaps part of my trip to the southwest? I was concerned about my ability to find parking anywhere near the museum, only to discover that a parking garage was less than a block away (and that the museum validates parking).
The NMAAM’s exhibits of African American contributions to popular music were extensive and thoughtfully designed. I literally spent hours viewing videos, looking at costumes, albums, musical scores, and instruments, and a vast array of other materials that told of a monumental and world-changing musical story. It was further enhanced by the Fisk Jubilee Singers exhibit.
Still, to me, the story they told was missing a vital element: the detailed representation of the contributions by African Americans to Classical Western music. There was also a need for a more complete history of the spiritual, because without this root music, the rest wouldn’t exist. From the earliest musicians of the 19th and early 20th century who fought discrimination to earn their places on the concert and operatic stages and symphonic halls in the United States and around the world, to those who today raise their musical talents to adoring, sold-out international audiences, they deserve to have their stories told, too. After all, if they are not given their due within the African American community, how can we fairly ask that others do so?
(And yes, I did suggest this to several staff at the NMAAM. Crossing my fingers.)
Anyway, I got back on the road and made the drive back to Gatlinburg, where I would start my scenic drive of Smoky Mountain on Thursday morning.
My pictures from the day are below–a rather large grouping that covers two pages–with the complete set posted at https://singin1.pics/piwigo/index.php?/category/NMAAM-Nashville-102925.
As always, I thank the Lord for granting me the stamina to make the trip, the damn good reflexes to steer the Silver Bullet (SB) as she needed to be guided, and the ability to enjoy His handiwork as it whizzes by my windshield.
I’m honestly surprised that SB and I didn’t need another break after the round-trip drive. Then again, that is less than driving from Iowa to North Carolina, a 15-hour, nearly 1,000 mile journey. So,… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. When I got to Gatlinburg, though, I settled down and passed out.
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