To the Editor:
I wanted to commend your paper on the two-part story on Greenwood Farms by Ken Beck. There is a one-street subdivision which is on the original farm area with a sign that says Greenwood Farm, and that was my home-place.
My parents, Tom and Barbara Aldridge, bought the first and only house they’ve ever owned at the end of the street (256 Greenwood Dr.) which I grew up in during the 1980s and 1990s. As the last house in the subdivision, my backyard became that entire farm which basically was used only for producing hay during most of that period. It was a very quiet, peaceful and safe place to grow up as a kid.
As an only child with both parents working in the medical field in Nashville, I spent my adolescent summers and weekends exploring that farm on foot or 4-wheeler, fishing in Spring Creek, hunting for squirrels and deer, shooting guns, throwing a baseball with my dad and taking batting practice with my best friend, Jason Bybee. I even showed a few girls around the farm to try and sneak in a kiss or two (I ended up marrying one of them).
Even though my parents own only a small, one-acre tract on the original farm, I felt like Greenwood Farms was my special place to explore, dream, talk to God, and grow into a young man.
I knew the farm was once used for dairy, but the insight you provided to the entire history was awesome. Walking around that farm always seemed nostalgic and now I know why.