My name is Jamison Huhner and my blog presents and discusses claims to fame for small towns all over the U.S. And other random nonsense. Claims to fame include celebrity residents past and present, historic events (battles, crimes), oddities, ...
My name is Jamison Huhner and my blog presents and discusses claims to fame for small towns all over the U.S. And other random nonsense. Claims to fame include celebrity residents past and present, historic events (battles, crimes), oddities, records of some sort and a million other things. I’m a graduate of Devils Lake Central and, eventually, a graduate from the University of North Dakota with degrees in Russian/Soviet studies and business. After college I moved south to Atlanta before finally ending up in Nashville where I now live with my wife and twin boys.
I was walking around downtown Nashville with my three year old boy the other day when he discovered an "A" shaped sidewalk sign promoting today’s special in front of a restaurant. (see photo) He disappeared into the sign and began telling stories about the “house” he had just found. I needed a little rest anyway so I just settled in, leaning against the building and watching the homeless people that tended to congregate in a nice little park, fountain and all, across the street.
Suddenly a pack of five or six young teenagers from a local church came swirling up, clipboards in hand, faces full of excitement, all giddy with the joy of Christ’s salvation. I figured I was about to get hit with a petition or a survey or a gentle request for a small donation to some charity or another when their leader, a pimply faced, red-headed kid stepped bravely forward and asked me how I felt about the services of the Nashville Rescue Mission. Halfway through politely explaining to him that I wasn’t exactly familiar with their work, I was interrupted by Beck poking his head out from his house. I told him to play some more and he disappeared again. I apologized for the interruption and they gave me an odd look. They gave an even odder look when I took a couple of bucks out of my pocket and offered it to their charity. Their leader declined, explaining that they weren’t allowed to accept any money. They wished me a good day and went on their way.
“A bit strange,” I thought as they crossed the street and began talking to the other homeless people. "Hey, wait a minute,” I thought, “could it be that…?”
I turned around to look at my reflection in the window. I was wearing a beat up old FILA hoodie with a little bit of white paint on it, my jeans had seen better days and, because it was the weekend, it had been a couple of days since my last shave. My hair was a little messed up from having just carried Beck on my shoulders and the cruel window hid what I thought might have been at least a trace of youth in my face and I thought to myself, “Yep.”