Vacations Blog

As previously mentioned, the family spent a little time in Tennessee earlier this month. Admittedly, most of the time was spent taking full advantage of my in-laws lake front home. I couldn’t find much to complain about, what with the gourmet meals, nightly karaoke (Much to my surprise I discovered that I’m a mic hog) and instant access to all variety of lake activities. The boy learned how to bait a hook and spent many an hour paddling around trying to land a biggin, while the girl morphed into a mermaid, coming out only for meals and to text her friends back home.

But in an effort to get acquainted with our southern surroundings, we did venture out to explore one of the local sites. In the city of Crossville stands what some of the locals refer to as God’s tree house.

“I was praying one day and the Lord said, ‘If you build me a tree house, I’ll see you never run out of material,’” said builder, and modern day Noah, Horace Burgess. So build it he did, out of recycled pieces of lumber and various donations.

This amazing, though somewhat ramshackle tree house, stands nearly 100-feet high. My understanding is that it wasn’t always so ramshackle, but over the years various nomads have taken up temporary residence in one of many rooms spanning ten floors.

According to my research, the tree house that Horace built took approximately 14-years to complete (1993-2007), however Horace would refute my Noah reference.

“God didn’t do me like Noah. I never got the dimensions. If I had known it was going to end up this big, I never would have started it.”

It took us more than an hour to explore the various nooks, crannies and cathedrals of Burgess’ bark and bough sanctuary. The spiral staircase that wraps around the trunk of a huge White Oak delivers climbers to various floors. There are short cuts everywhere that lead you to different rooms, balconies and levels. On one floor stand a church, complete with pews, a pulpit, a choir loft and a stained glass picture window of Jesus. Many areas had been trashed by the aforementioned nomads, and several sections, in particular a large hole in the floor somewhere in the vicinity of the fourth or fifth floor, looked downright dangerous. When we first arrived the boy took off climbing and I had a moment of panic, thinking how easy it would be to lose a kid in this place, or about who might be up there sleeping something off, or worse. If you happen to visit, watch your step and keep an eye on the youngins. That being said, it does appear to be a very well travelled attraction, and numerous other families came and went during our exploration. If someone would just take the time to clean it up, perhaps allow one of the more responsible nomads to live in it in exchange for acting as a caretaker, it could be much nicer.

On this particular visit, one of many for my mother in-law Jude as her out-of-town guests always request a visit, Horace’s son, Kevin, happened by on his way to dad’s ranch just up the road. I was somewhere up in the bell tower clanging the oxygen acetylene bottles that have been chopped and fashioned into wind chimes, but Jude spoke to him and confirmed the following information:

• Horace refers to the edifice as “The Way,” the way being Jesus.
• It took Horace 14-years to complete the tree house, and with the exception of maybe “500 nails” driven by Kevin, Horace built the entire structure, all 258,000 nails worth
• Horace put a cross in the garden so people will say he has Jesus in his garden.

Now I’ll admit that a part of me thought the whole things a little nutty; a little too Field of Dreams-y. Still, while I walked around this timbered monolith, I couldn’t help but marvel at the thing, and the sheer devotion and sweat equity it must have taken to complete it.  And I couldn’t help but feel a little moved by the whole thing, moved to bow my head and pray, “I sure hope God doesn’t tell me to paint my house.”

What:              God’s Treehouse
Where:            Crossville, TN, for exact location, ask a local
Cost:               Your soul. Just kidding, it’s free

(All photos by Lisa Romano)