Brooke Cornett maneuvers the curvy roads of Hancock County with perfect precision. Decades of practice will do that. She points out the houses of old friends and family as we drive past farmland and mountain hollows. Brooke was raised here alongside cousins, aunts, and uncles. Every road has a story. She’s quick to add that she isn’t the only team member in Morristown who calls this county home. Nurse, Brittany Seal and Health Aide, Heather Fugate were raised in Hancock County as well, and they take great pride in caring for the friends and families of neighbors. 

Johnny calls out a hello from the window as soon as we pull up. He and his sister, Mary, greet us with big smiles as we come through the door. Their family and Brooke’s go back generations as do most families in this neck of the woods. He was friends with her great-grandfather and worked with her great uncle. Brooke fills him in on her dad painting the old 8N tractor as she pulls the vegetables she picked for them out of her bag. Johnny lights up, he remembers that very tractor. He’s pretty sure he was with her grandpa Hugh the day he bought it.  

Stories unfold quickly from there. They talk about her garden. The beans are coming in strong, but she can’t will a single watermelon. Johnny laughs, remembering how her grandfather used to grow the best watermelons around.  “He’d give me as many as I could eat,” he says with a grin. He tells us about the nets he used to put out in the Clinch River and the fish he sold. About days spent working in tobacco and at the old sawmill. “That’s just how people lived back then,” he says with a shrug, full of pride.  

They talk about people they knew, and Johnny says most of his friends have passed on at this point. Nonetheless, he has lots of calls and visitors. Our Caris team comes by most days checking on him and Mary, managing medications, providing comfort and support and companionship by simply listening to his many stories. He proudly tells us about his birthday celebration that Brittany, Shea and Heather pulled together and his homemade cake. “I was the birthday king,” he says, pulling out his party hat with a chuckle.  

As we prepare to leave, we ask Johnny if there is anything he needs. He smiles and says what he always says: “I’ve got everything I need here to live….. but I’d sure take a quarters worth of hundred-dollar bills.” 

At the end of our lives, we need people who care for us to know our stories. We need them to nod their heads when we tell them about the people in our lives. When we say, do you remember . . . we need someone to say, yes.  We need them to understand our jokes, our songs, our beliefs. Not just anyone can do that. We have the honor of being the village that cares for our people. We say it takes a village at the beginning of life. It takes a village at the end of life too, and we are proud to be part of that village.