I have always wanted to see the ends of the earth, and on this warm June day I feel just about as close as I have ever been. I’m technically still at home in the United States, but the visions of backwoods Tennessee outside my passenger seat window may as well be Azerbaijan.
     I had come to Tennessee for the first time as a summer staff member for Reach Workcamps. Now I was on my way to meet the McGhee family in order to verify the home-repair projects that would be completed by high schoolers the following week.
     It’s our second attempt to find the home, and once again we find ourselves lost and with a GPS that is of no use on this mountain. We come to a crossroads. At least twenty mailboxes are standing vigil in between the options we have for continuing on. They don’t tell me which road is correct, so I pick straight ahead. Almost immediately, the trees part and I can see down into the valley. Other hillsides covered in trees roll on down yonder. The curves are seemingly more treacherous now. We’re desperate—and amazingly, modern technology steps in with cell phone reception. We call the McGhees; it turns out when we passed the mailboxes, we passed by the road to their house. Turning around, it’s back over the hills, around the curves, down the dips and to the end of the road past the mailboxes.
     Now I’m thinking about what’s waiting for me at the end of the road. My drastic imagination is put to rest as we pull into the driveway. A blue double-wide sits on a nice clearing of grass. Lisa McGhee greets us. Lisa is eager for her new deck to be built and not opposed to helping out either. Her speech is noticeably different, and it makes me smile when I hear her say things like “you ‘unses.” I feel like I really am in Tennessee. However, Lisa apologizes, abashed by what she says is her “ol’ hick” accent. We continue talking. The new deck is coming at a good time, as one of her sons is off to Afghanistan for a tour of duty. This also makes me stop to think. How is it that this chance, tucked-away home in a rural Tennessee hamlet is connected with other anonymous locations of Southwest Asia? I didn’t expect my journey on Vowell Mountain to take me that far.
     We double-check some measurements and clear up the details of the following week. After the long adventure to reach this elusive address, it’s hard to say goodbye so soon. Leaving the McGhee home, to begin the descent on the rolling road, I mull over the journey.

Lisa Gibson