From an article published in the Grundy County Herald written by Stella Dodson, owner of Monteagle Flea Market.
Memories Of The Monteagle Flea Market
Stella Dodson, Special To The Herald

The market had been operating for several years before Tommy H. Dodson gave it a home. It was one of the original
markets, located for a while near where the little old park is and then behind the Dairy Queen, and finally finding its
way to where it is now, across from Mountain Valley Bank and the Monteagle Post Office.
In March 1979 Tommy inherited this building with no windows, doors, or roof due to a recent fire. Driving an
18-wheeler across the U.S. was his occupation at the time.
Everett Meeks collected from the few vendors putting the money in a paper sack. Next Charlie Myers was in
charge of the market. A vendor paid 50 cents and we were lucky to get that. The first time I went to the market,
I didn’t know not to block the driveway, but soon learned better.
On July 1981 I inherited the free job of parking the vendors, not even knowing how to park myself. A new policy
was implemented. What if you sleep in and arrive at 8:00 a.m? It worked.
There were rundown tables and several rusty barrels on the lot. Ford Cox and Tommy thought this was the only
way. While Tommy was out on the road, the tables were removed and so were the barrels, one barrel at a time.
Dale Cutcher from Alabama sold furniture there and he always helped, even parking vendors during the morning
rush. Some had the idea that Dale was my husband and we didn’t have time to explain. One day Tommy showed
up and made a visit to all the dealers who said, "Well, who is he?" and they were told, "He is Stella’s husband."
And they said, "Oh, does she have two husbands?" Tommy called Dale his husband-in-law when he heard the
news and someone asked Dale, "What was a husband-in-law?"
The belt man (Robert Britt) came to the flea market in Monteagle, Tennessee many years ago before there was
a Wal-Mart, dollar store, or Fred’s for miles around. Monteagle was well known for Tommy Dodson’s Flea Market
and the Oak Terrace Motel. All truckers could tell you about these businesses on Rocky Top Mountain Tennessee.
No alcohol was allowed at either place. However, one day Billy Beer made its way to the market and the vendor
was told to pack up and leave. I didn’t know it was a collector’s item just that it was beer.
Word got out that the belt man had lost everything and had to live in his truck. Belt man kept a straight face as
long as he could and Tommy told me I had better go tell the peanut man the truth for he was about to have a heart
attack.
The belt man went down to the furniture building one day to talk with Tommy and I came in with some money.
He told me that I had better put the money away. Tommy assured him that it was all right that I had been
knocking on all of the truck doors receiving 35 cents from each. Of course, he was joking, as he was always
the life of the crowd.
Another flea market visitor, called Flip Flop Charlie by my children because he wore flip flops no matter how
cold it was. Flip Flop Charlie didn’t have a big toe and until this day, the children wonder how Charlie didn’t
get frostbite.
Dale Cutcher, Kevin, Steve Baldwin and two younger brothers looked forward to visiting Tommy and me. The
market was fascinating and Tommy was a good tour guide and enjoyed showing the beautiful Cumberland
Mountains.
In 1984 the Tennessee and Alabama football teams were playing. Tennessee hadn’t done too well lately,
but the Alabama boys bet Tommy 50 push-ups that Alabama would win. Tommy fell asleep without making
things right with the boys and guess what? Tennessee won.
People remember Tommy’s smiles, the glitter in his eyes, and the big bear hugs when he greeted you.
Matt and Sandra Pinegar have set up at the flea market for many years and were kind of nervous setting
up for the first time. "Mr. Tommy and Mrs. Stella made us feel right at home," said the Pinegar’s. Their children
soon learned everyone’s names and felt at home, too. They enjoyed the treats at Mrs. Judy’s eating place and
the things "Mrs. Stella" would give them. It soon became their second home.
At the time they had ten acres of vegetables and would bring them to the flea market to sell. "Each year when
we brought our vegetables, Mr. Tommy would come over to our truck and say, ‘Everything is okay now. You all
are back with those home grown vegetables.’ It really helped out to have a place to sell because we had four
children in school and bills to pay," said the Pinegar’s.
"As far as I know, we are the last ones still selling vegetables after 28 years at the flea market," said the Pinegar’s.
"It’s still a place we call our second home and we pray it remains to be. We’ve made so many friends over the
years and hope they feel the same."
People remember different things about the Monteagle Flea Market including the Indian, the blind man’s songs,
fine solid oak furniture, the Beenie Weenie, Marlene Aylor’s pies, Sally’s lilies, Hamby’s Azaleas, coins, animals,
air brushed clothes, metal buildings, Penny’s rugs, real estate, lemonade, and don’t forget the Tennessee 1999
Cat and Sweetpea we inherited.
There is not enough space or time to tell all the stories. Me, Tommy Howell, the vendors, and the customers
spent many hours helping to fulfill the dream of others.
There was work and play as this family of the market grew. For many years Tommy always gave gifts to the
dealers during Christmas and free space. Tommy’s recipe for a healthy and wealthy life was "one cup of love,
one cup of smiles, one cup of generosity, ½ cup of endurance, one cup of work, one cup of kindness, two
cups of faithful giving, and one cup of integrity." We will always have the special memories including my
retirement party, Tommy’s birthday party, and homecoming 1986, etc.

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NEWSPAPER ARTICLES WRITTEN BY STELLA DODSON FOR THE GRUNDY COUNTY HERALD

EASTERS PAST
By: Stella Dodson,
Guest Columnist

Easter was last Sunday, which usually marks the fact that the long, dark days of winter are officially over.
Not only is Easter one of the holiest days in the Christian faith, it is also the signal that spring is here once
again. Both for its religious significance and as a herald of warmer and longer days, Easter is one of the most
joyous holidays of the year; and it is one of the most exciting, too.
Remember the thrill of Easter when you were a child. There were egg hunts at school. In the early days, the
small country stores did not keep Easter egg dye (only the necessary items for every day), so we took crayons
or wax and wrote on the eggs and that part would not color. We took crepe paper of bright colors (usually a pretty
green or red) and dyed the eggs after they were boiled and cooled.
We did not eat the eggs found, as we were not sure when they were cooked. I didn’t have to worry, though,
because all the eggs were found before I got started looking. Sometimes the teacher would divide the eggs after
the hunt was over. We received prizes for the most eggs found or a prize egg.
Friday before Easter was always called Good Friday. That was the day to plant onions, cabbage, lettuce, or sow seeds (potatoes then), but the seasons have changed.
Saturday was called Rotten Saturday. You did not dare to plant as it would decay or the seed wouldn’t come up.
The whole family rose early for church. You eagerly searched for your Easter basket. Everyone dressed up in their
Sunday best. Thin voile, lacy, ruffled dresses that you would freeze in. The wind usually blew your Easter hat off.
Children were told stories about the Easter bunny and it was a good time to have art in school and Sunday school.
This was the time of year the post office had chirping sounds of baby chicks stored in a box with tiny air holes for
the people that colored fuzzy chicks and sold them.
Easter has come and gone, and hopefully, so has the long, cold days of winter.
 
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A TIME FOR LOVE
By: Stella Dodson,
Special to the Herald

St. Valentine’s Day is still the time for telling the people we love how special they are.
This year, why not make this romantic day a real occasion with a delicious menu from a friend who took the
time to remember you and show the meaning of true love or a delicious homemade soup from the old fashioned
school made from all the week’s leftovers and cornbread made from the yellow corn, but buttered up with flour,
eggs, and buttermilk.
It brings to mind 1959-1960 at Mount Vernon School, a three-teacher school with Estelle Tate Hooten, Lora Lee
Layne and myself.
The students gave me a baby shower late in the autumn for my second child. She arrived on a Friday, January 29,
1960. I did the monthly report and then to the hospital. A snow was falling soft as feathers.
On Valentine’s Day we always had a Valentine box with special treats. In the early years the box would be draped
with crepe paper gathered to make pleats around the box and the Valentines had lace or you could make your own
heart and cut out the lace for it. We always ordered ours from the Sears and Roebuck catalogue with a special
one for all the school, teachers, and mother.
On February 14, 1960 I was home with the new baby. A Valentine party went on but a terrible storm came (some
called it a tornado) that tore a small town building in two. I am not sure which town building, but the people there will remember.
Another snow fell and then, with the temperature next to zero, still more snow, until the hillside in Laager bordering
other towns was covered with snow and ice until late April.
The roads were frozen. There were no blacktop roads but some had slate, and the holes were so deep from Mattie
Pickett’s Store, that they looked worse than wagon roads in early days. It was said by someone that the March
winds would blow the mud holes dry.
So we parked at Mattie’s Store, walked the railroad tracks (it seemed two miles to me), but some knew the short
cut. Through rain, snow, or sunshine these three teachers walked with the children. Picture what we looked and
smelled like when we got to school with only a newspaper to shed the rain.
Next we built the fire and dried out around the big fat pot bellied stove. We had kindling for the fire, but if you didn’t
watch, you would get coal that would smother the fire out. If the cooks made it, milk was two cents a bottle and
with all the Federal grants we had, meals were nine cents.
We had two outhouses for the teachers and all the children. Some of the students helped with lunch and the ones
that were qualified also helped with classes. They learned early whether this was a job for them.
After the long day, we walked to the car before the ride home. There was always teamwork and each understood
what he was to do.
The bad things at school then were chewing gum, writing a note, or seeing smoke from the toilet top. There were
no security guards, no teacher’s aides, no special education, and no coaches.
The children walked, some three miles, maybe falling in the creek as they crossed. A teacher had to be like a
nurse or mother and take care of health first for health wasn’t in the books. How well we now know as we see our
health system. And there were no school buses!
One cold morning several students walked together with some of the parents. One was dared so he stuck his
tongue to the railroad track of iron and it froze and he couldn’t turn it loose. So his classmates ran into the neighbors’
house to get water to free him or a plug of his tongue would have been missing. They didn’t tell me until a few years
ago.
Mrs. Estelle in the middle of her class tells of the child who out of the blue told her that the bottom was falling right
out of the chickens. She meant the price of the chickens they were raising in the broiler houses had dropped. Can
you see a chicken without a bottom?
Johnny Layne reminded me in 2007 the time he brought his gun to school. I said, "Let me see that thing." It was a
long barrel cap pistol, but it looked real. I then went into Estelle’s classroom where she was teaching students and
I told her, "It is time to straighten your act up." I pointed the cap gun and shot it with a pow, pow. I wondered if I
would get in trouble for this stunt. Johnny remembers that he did get to take his gun home.
My secret, that I can now tell, was to never fail a child, but to really try hard to see they learned something, such
as the value of the dollar or manners. I am happy to know that all these children are good citizens, some with important
jobs or are now retired. Some that couldn’t sit still have a business and are successful.
My students and I are family and from them I get homemade chow chow, crocheted towels, thank you notes, while
some taught me in church and now cook for me and teach me. Their parents write stories of our history and we still
take trips together.
For a short time, the teachers are in the classroom, but for a lifetime they are giving back and sharing the love.
The teachers then put up with me somehow. There weren’t many rules to break. To "keep your voice down" worked
better than yelling. There was a different technique for each.
Estelle, Lora Lee, Aunt Veola, Virgie Marie, Mrs. Thelma Hargis – picking and washing turnip greens. Jossie also
walked with the children and all the parents helped to make it possible for me to continue.
The teachers were loyal and took care of their problems as they know now were minor compared with today. Our
children have climbed the ladder.
As Valentine’s Day approaches, we want to share our love, along with exchanging our knowledge and technology.
We have been truly loved and blessed.

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A CHRISTMAS WISH
By: Stella Dodson,
Special to the Herald

When growing up I wished for a number of things in life, such as a million dollars and a new car along with a two
story house and of course, an easy job.
Every year all the money would be gone when Christmas was over. The miners had plenty of dynamite and on
Christmas Eve, Daddy would go on the mountain and light a stick of it. The windows would shake. This was a
thrill for him as the Big Gun went off.
We had firecrackers and Roman candles. The Roman candles had balls of fire of different colors that would come
out as you would send them up into the sky. My brother threw his backwards and it burned a hole through my
clothes into the skin and that was the end of that for the night for me.
People gathered holly with berries and mistletoe that was hung over the door. The Palmer Company Store and
Tracy Company Store had all the nice gifts one could ask for such as air rifles and Shirley Temple dolls, but if
you did go to Chattanooga you wanted to get a Crystal hamburger and a drink of your choice.
The aluminum Christmas trees came out in 1959 and were out of style in a few years, but a short time ago after
we had thrown ours the garbage, people were paying big bucks for these old trees.
Now in December 2007 wealth is not wished for and I don’t hear everybody ask ing what are you getting for Christmas.
Is it because we lost the true meaning Christmas or do we have Christmas every day?
Instead of wishing for wealth, my wish is for health and one day at a time, which is truly a Christmas gift.
Merry Christmas and happy, peaceful New Year.

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