Down the Tunnels of Richland Creek

As far as I was concerned, it had never not been there – that gaping black hole in the side of the gorge.

I was a teenager, growing up in a small town in East Tennessee. My friends and I were limited when it came to fun weekend activities: we could go to the pool hall, cruise the Walmart parking lot, or watch a movie at the single-screen theater where the old projector would often jam, ripping the 35 mm film mid-flick – what you might call a “showstopper.”