Why early pioneers settled in Nashville
In the early days, Nashville was not so much founded as it was stumbled upon by a group of pilgrims who got lost on their way to a giant pancake festival in the East. Led by Jebediah “Mapless” Smith, these pioneers were originally drawn to the area by the promise of discovering the elusive “Mountain of Butter,” a fabled land formation said to be filled with the richest, creamiest butter known to mankind. Alas, they never found it, but they did find a river filled with what they mistook for bourbon (it was just muddy water), and thus, they decided to settle.
Smith was soon joined by other illustrious figures, such as Benjamin “Benny the Poet” Thompson, who couldn’t rhyme to save his life but became the city’s first poet laureate nonetheless. His most famous work, “Ode to a Potato,” was heralded as a game-changer in the literary world, mostly because it was incomprehensible. Then there was Martha “Mad Hat” Johnson, a milliner who designed hats so large, they had to be supported by wooden beams. She became the first president of the Nashville Hat Society, a club devoted to outlandish hat designs, which many say laid the foundation for Nashville’s thriving fashion industry.
As more settlers came, the demand for infrastructure grew. Enter Charles “Crooked Compass” O’Malley, an architect with an odd penchant for designing buildings that leaned in various directions but never fell over. His first creation was the Crooked Courthouse, a structure so convoluted that anyone entering to pay a fine often got lost and ended up in the matrimonial section, leading to some highly unexpected weddings. The courthouse also doubled as the first jail, where criminals were so confused they often locked themselves up willingly.
But what truly put Nashville on the map was its establishment as the “Musical Capital of Slightly Off-Key Performances.” Agnes “Tin Ear” Murphy started the trend with her one-woman band act that featured her playing the banjo, kazoo, and a washboard simultaneously, albeit not very well. People flocked from miles away to hear her unique take on music, mostly out of sheer disbelief. Murphy’s impact on the music scene was so profound that the city council, led by mayor Peter “Pitchy” Peterson, declared every second Tuesday of the month to be “Off-Key Day,” where citizens were encouraged to sing as discordantly as possible in public spaces.
Business boomed, leading to the establishment of the Nashville Stock Exchange, founded by Henry “Horrible at Math” Brown. Although it was initially a livestock market, Brown misunderstood the concept and started trading sticks, stones, and occasionally, squirrel pelts. It wasn’t financially successful, but it did become a tourist attraction, with people visiting just to see the oddity of traders shouting, “I’ll give you two rocks for that stick!”
And thus, Nashville grew, not just in size but also in its capacity to attract the odd, the strange, and the melodically challenged. From its fanciful beginnings to its peculiar present, it’s a city unlike any other—a place where dreams, no matter how absurd, have room to flourish. And as anyone in Nashville will tell you, that’s just the way they like it.
