I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
March 30, 2014
In 2006, I started writing a newspaper column based on this blog for the Nashville Scene, my local alt-weekly newspaper.
The reaction was mixed… I wrote a tongue-in-cheek, often snarky account of my life as a stay at home mom, and people either loved the column– or they loathed it. The hate mail my column inspired was unparalleled in its creative nastiness and the newspaper staff published the very worst of those letters with glee, often putting the most venomous bits in bold, gigantic print in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ section.
Clearly, the staff didn’t have my back. I remember going to the newspaper’s Christmas party for the first time that year, and meeting everyone in person for the first time. When I arrived, the editor introduced me to the room and everyone stopped talking. After a moment of staring and silence, they all returned to their conversations. Hardly anyone bothered to speak to me the entire night.
Yeah. That’ll teach a mommy blogger to try and write for a real publication.
Career-wise, it was not the most self-affirming time in my life– and that’s why the e-mail invitation I received in my inbox at around that time was so surprising. It was from Gail Kerr, who was writing to ask if I’d like to have lunch.
For those of you who don’t live here, Gail was a longtime writer and columnist for The Tennessean. Her hugely popular columns put mine to shame– They were smart and insightful, and while my columns were considered to be useful for lining cat litter boxes (according to one of those reprinted letters to the editor), Gail’s columns very often made a difference here in Nashville and led to changes in mind, law, and policy. I was shocked that the great Gail Kerr even knew who I was, let alone that she had asked me to lunch. We met up at Mellow Mushroom and spent a very enjoyable two hours getting to know each other. She encouraged me and gave me great advice on how to deal with the haters, and I left that day with my head a little higher — Who needed those Scene staffers and their stupid tongue piercings, anyway?
Gail Kerr liked me! She really, really liked me!
I saw Gail periodically at parties and events a few times a year after that and she quickly became one of my favorite people to run into. She always had great stories and well-thought-out opinions, yet she had an amazing ability to speak her mind without trashing anyone in the process. This past December, I ran into Gail at a Christmas party and was surprised by how thin she had gotten since I’d last seen her. Gail had already beaten back cancer two times over the last few years, but she told me at the party that it had returned again. She admitted that she was really struggling with the thought of having to go through chemo a third time, and she asked for prayer. After that, talk turned to her colleagues at The Tennessean—She couldn’t say enough good things about them, both the veterans and the new, young reporters. That was so Gail- Even in the midst of obvious personal crisis, she was eager to heap praise on the people around her.
I was so uplifted and inspired by Gail’s attitude and positivity that night, and as she had requested, I prayed for her often after that. A little voice inside me told me to keep in closer touch with her, and I’m telling you this now only because I have so often heard that little voice and, shamefully, ignored it because I was too busy or too overwhelmed by my own stuff, or because I just… forgot.
But this time, I didn’t forget. I kept in touch with Gail via Facebook after that night and as we messaged back and forth, I made sure she knew that I was praying for her often, that I was happy to help out during chemo if she needed anything at all, and that I thought the world of her.
Gail was always upbeat and hopeful in her messages to me — and so I was as shocked as the rest of Nashville when she died unexpectedly this past week. Dennis called and told me the news and I stood in my kitchen and cried as I thought about the void that her loss left in my life, and in the lives of so many others in Nashville… but at the same time, I was also so very grateful that FOR ONCE I had acted on my instincts and had actually said what I needed to say to the great Gail Kerr before she died.
How appropriate that it was Gail who drew that out of me. Gail, who never held back when it came to praising others and letting them know how she felt about them. I know that I’m just one of many that she reached out to during the course of her lifetime. I’ve seen the stories on Facebook in the days following her death, told by people from all walks of life. Gail was genuinely interested in the lives and stories and personal welfare of others- It’s part of what made her column so great. And it’s also part of what made her a great friend to those who knew her in person.
I will miss Gail every time I open the newspaper. We all will. There will never be another columnist like her. I will never forget her grace as she soldiered on through devastating illness, her kindness, or the way she managed to turn her career into a true calling– a means to provoke positive change and help the people around her.
Thank you, Gail, for being a bright shining light to so many in our city.
You will be greatly missed.
You can learn more about the Thank You Project at this link.
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Like most Middle Tennesseans I did not know her personally, but enjoyed her column immensely over the years. She was a class act, and I hope her passing was gentle.
What a beautiful tribute to a friend and mentor. We all need people in our life who encourage and uplift. Thank you for sharing.
I had hoped you would write on Gail’s.passing. The concept of saying thank you while you still can has been floating around my brain for a while. Letting people know how much they mean to you is such a wonderful opportunity. Thank YOU for writing. Gail will be sorely missed.