Old No. 7

The article in the Tennessean read, "small southern town's growth due to increased sales from the Jack Daniels Distillery." Years ago, 13 to be exact, we moved here. It is 15 miles from the famous distillery. In fact, we did the famous tour. It is one of my many regrets in life. At the time, I did not know No.7, the most desired liquor, would become a God in my home. Young, naive, I did not know about addictions, much less having alcohol consumed by someone I loved. I remember thinking I probably should not be touring the distillery, especially not with our children; however, we went anyway. The people there were nice. Everyone was friendly. The place was unique and full of interesting information on how the famous whiskey is made. I did not think much of this at the time, but time has a way of teaching us valuable lessons. As I read this article, yesterday, I was first saddened, then enraged. When I determine a passion is mine, I live it full throttle. Lynchburg is a beautiful, quaint town, with a square full of neat shops. The article stated concern over the big business of whiskey making, effecting the town, the big decision makers don't want to cause problems for this closely knit town. AMAZING. Don't want to cause problems!!! Too late. It is so disturbing, to me, that business is increasing at such a pace that the distillery must reorganize their production to meet demands. How many more alcoholics are being made everyday? How many more young people are trying their first drink? How many more innocent people are being killed by drunk drivers? I am angry at myself for ever walking through this place. I am angry that sales have skyrocketed and even reaching other countries. I know that this business allows many people to be employed and does effect the economy in a great way, but so does the drug industry. Today's vision is clouded. I do not believe in drinking. No shape, no form. You can say my vision is tainted. Of course it is. I have seen the face of death, black with white writing. Old No. 7. You may say I am too close-minded, too religious, too stiff, too straight. Actually, I am too much reminded of how many people this morning are wishing every bottle of liquor, can of beer, could be destroyed before their loved one buys the final drink that kills them. Don't worry, the liquor that is produced in this small, southern town has ALREADY changed more people than the Jack Daniel's Distillery will ever know. Wonder why they don't print that?