Listen to Dalton Roberts’s podcast about a song he buried for 20 years. 10/23/09

In talking about my love for Chattanooga I have often said, "I wanted to live in Chattanooga so much that I packed up my diaper bag and moved here when I was 3 weeks old."

There's more truth than fiction in that statement. Mother always said I never seemed to be happy in Alabama, where I was born on a hot summer day. In the Great Depression, Dad had landed a job with Davenport Hosiery Mill, located where the Times Free Press building stands today. He had come on to Chattanooga leaving mother, my two sisters and me in Decatur until he could find us a place to stay.

My grandfather, Isaac Roberts, ran a grist mill at Mooresville, Ala., and my first recollection of returning to Alabama was to visit them at the grist mill. I loved my grandparents and enjoyed seeing the grist mill conveyer belt do its thing, but my keenest memory was preferring to stay home in Chattanooga.

Dad's youngest brother, Van, lived at home with my grandparents in Mooresville and not even his Gibson guitar and his sackful of Jimmie Rodgers songs kept me from missing Chattanooga. Years later he taught me to play and gave me that old Gibson.

I guess all these old memories got stirred up as I practiced for tomorrow's Renaissance Octoberfest in Coolidge Park and on the Walnut Street Bridge. It reminds me of Barbara Mandrell's song, "I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool." What I am realizing is that I loved Chattanooga before the renaissance made it cool to love Chattanooga.

Oh, I've done some town sampling over my years. For six months I lived in Boone, Iowa, and the metal covering over the heat vent got so hot it made a waffle of my little daughter's hand. No matter what my salary might have been, in the words of one of my songs, I was ready to get myself "a whole bunch of gone."

I lived in Nashville, but my very soul missed the mountains and the Tennessee River. My son lives in Dallas. Being an oil man, he likes the economy, but he once told me, "Dad, you have no idea how much you can come to miss the mountains and lakes." Yes, son, I do.

I lived in Knoxville while working on my master's. I had mountains and the same river, but all I can say is it just wasn't Chattanooga.

I worked at the Appalachia Educational Lab in Charleston, W.Va., and when I drove there to go to work it was a foggy night. A film came over my windshield, and I stopped at a service station for help. The mechanic on duty said, "It's the chemicals from all the chemical companies here. Nothing will cut it but a Coke." I remembered that experience when I was elected and worked with Mayors Pat Rose and Gene Roberts to clean up the air here.

I am grateful that getting involved in Renaissance Octoberfest spun me off into so many warm and beautiful recollections of my love for Chattanooga. Some of the greatest things about our town are not easy to adequately describe. Like the people. The town is big enough to offer a delicious cultural life but small enough that you can feel the genuine warmth of the people. I worked for those people for 16 years and walked among them every day. I know their greatness.

So thanks, Rusty Criminger, Garnet Chapin and Nina Jones for letting me be a part of Renaissance Octoberfest. As we enjoy the music in the park and on the train engine across the bridge tomorrow, forgive me if I float away on old memories as I enjoy one of the great loves of my life: my love affair with the lady called Chattanooga.

E-mail Dalton Roberts at DownhomeP@aol.com.