On A Nashville Memory
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“Nine Mile Hill, so creatively named because it was exactly nine miles from the heart of downtown Nashville, the Cumberland River, afforded Taylor a lovely panoramic view of the city. The sun was setting behind her, catching the reflection off the Lifeway warehouse. The skyscrapers and the Capitol building that made up Nashville’s skyline were bathed in a rosy copper reflective glow, shimmering like an urban mirage. Taylor had lived in Nashville her entire life, but had never seen this vision. It was gorgeous and filled her, making her feel whole and drowsy. She was tempted to pull over and watch until it disappeared, but the sun did the trick for her, shifting slightly in its evening zenith. The mirage faded, and the downtown Taylor knew reappeared.”
Today marks the end of an era for Nashville. The Lifeway complex was demolished this morning to make way for the new area of town that will be called Nashville Yards. Change is inevitable, especially in a city like ours, that’s growing faster than many of us can keep up with, but it’s always hard to see icons disappear.
Watching this piece of Nashville history implode into dust, I reminisced about a phenomenon few have had a chance to see — and now, never will again — the Lifeway henge. It happened so quickly I wasn't even able to take a photograph. It was an experience that made it into the Taylor novel I was writing at the moment. I’m so glad to have seen it, and to have recorded it for posterity in Judas Kiss. And now it fades into the fabric of our ever-changing city.
