ThomsonTalks

Ryan James White was a musical artist of sorts. He hadn’t achieved fame, but was seriously working on it. He augmented his income by running a high quality, low-key music boutique catering to guitarists, banjo pickers, the occasional harmonica player, and the poor kid whose parents wanted him or her to take band at the local high school.  This night he was giving banjo lessons to two University of Tennessee students who were enamored of the Osborne Brothers. Both boys, had mastered Knoxville Girl, but were still a long way in overcoming the challenges of the Fastest Grass Alive. One had a tendency to strum the banjo instead of pick it and that drove Ryan crazy.

After the bluegrass pickers left, a slightly exhausted Ryan, closed up the shop and headed towards his car. Parked in the space next to him was a new forest green Range Rover. The Rover’s driver door opened and a short, heavyset man, wearing a sport coat that was slightly on the tight side, got out.

“Ryan, I’m sure glad I caught you. Man you sure look tired.”

Ryan thought the guy had a slight piggy look about him.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day. Do I know you, sir?

“Not really, I knew your dad. Fine man. Sam White was a giant. I hear you take a lot after him.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, anyway how can I help you Mr. …?

“Sneed, Darrell Sneed, Sneed Real Estate. I know you’ve heard of us.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of you,” Ryan answered unenthusiastically. “How can I help you?”

“You could help me a lot by letting me look at that 120 acres of property that you have out there near Butterfly Gap.”

“Why would that help you Mr. Sneed?”

“I have some well-connected friends who would be interested in buying that property. They could make it real sweet for you.”

“And sweet for you too, I guess…” Ryan said.

“I’m just trying to help my clients and if you wished to sell, son, you would be my primary client.

The more Ryan spoke with Sneed, the more Sneed reminded him of the evil Simon Legree. Sneed was on the Blount County Planning Commission and was known throughout Blount County as Darrell “Imminent Domain” Sneed. Sneed a land developer and county government’s man when it came to condemning properties that were in the path of the latest “scenic” highway or prestige development highlighting and at the same time destroying the natural beauty of the Smokies.

“We don’t have anything to talk about Mr. Sneed and I damn sure don’t want to see you or any of your people on my property.”

“I don’t think your daddy would have taken that attitude, Ryan.

“You’re right, Mr. Sneed, he wouldn’t have taken my attitude. He would have shot your ass the minute you got out of your car. I remember now, before he died, Daddy told me some very uncomplimentary things about you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Ryan. If you change your mine, here’s my card.” Ryan didn’t reach out to take it and Sneed put it back in his pocket. In a parting shot, Sneed said,

“You’ll probably hear about this again, Ryan.

Ryan had been expecting some type of confrontation like this since after his dad’s death six months before. Ryan and his brother, David Walker White, had received equal shares of the 340 pristine acres their dad owned in the foothills of the Smokies.

The land had been in the White family for generations, originally part of a several thousand-acre tract that was granted to a distant ancestor after the Revolutionary War. Ryan and his brother had vowed never to sell and were thinking about turning the property into protected conservatory land until they found out that there was a way the developers could crack that legal protection as well. Frankly, Sneed’s visit scared Ryan. He called his older brother.

“Dave, have you got a minute? Have you ever heard of this fellow on the Blount County Planning Commission, Darrell Sneed?”

“Yeah, Ryan, he’s a real low life slime bucket. They say he started his career working for a collection agency in Maryville. He’s one of those types who sticks it too widow’s and orphans.”

“You’re probably going to get a visit from him. He just stopped by to see me trying to get a peek at my share of the property Dad left us.”

“He’s been leaving messages on my machine. I’ve blocked his number.”

“What are we going to do, Dave? You know his reputation?” Neither one of us can afford to spend a lot of money on lawyers.

I don’t know about you Ryan, but I’m going to turn to the Magnolia Society for help.”

“Aren't they a bunch of Kluxers?”

“Not really. I’m going to a meeting tomorrow night in Knoxville. Do you want to tag along?”

“If you can’t think of any better ideas, I guess I will…”

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