THE WALL STREET JOURNAL. Friday, February 28, 2020 |M7
M
y mother was the pic-
ture of elegance when
I was little. That is,
until the day she came
down to the basement and grabbed
an ax. She heard me scream.
There on the concrete steps
leading downstairs was a curled-up
snake. She chopped off its head
and took it to the university to see
what kind it was. Though Mom had
been a New York runway model,
she began life as a farm girl and
never lost her fearless side.
We first lived in West Knox-
ville, Tenn., in a reclaimed-brick
ranch house built in 1951. When I
was 6, we moved to a house with
white shake siding and a stone
foundation on Kenesaw Avenue inhistoric Sequoyah Hills.
My mother, Jane, wasn’t like
other mothers. She didn’t have a
bouffant or wraparound skirts.
She drove a convertible with the
top down.
She was elegant about every-
thing, especially at home. She
didn’t like to eat but made dining
beautiful for everyone else. She
just ate enough to live. Breakfast
for her was a bottle of Coke and a
cigarette. This is after she made
us eggs, bacon, toast and jam.
Her parenting style was laissez-
faire. I could do whatever I
wanted so long as it didn’t inter-
fere with her life.
I was mini-Mom. We’d go an-
tiquing and shopping. My oldersister, Keith, hung out with
Mammy, my mother’s mother.
My father, David, had a temper.
It’s hard to say why, exactly. His
father, Lucien, didn’t give him
anything and that’s how it was.
Lucien looked like Daddy War-
bucks from the comic strip “Little
Orphan Annie.” He drove a big
car, was competitive and had a
huge personality.
He died in a freak accident be-
fore my father could reconcile with
him. On the 13th hole of the coun-
try-club golf course, he was killed
when boys shooting at squirrels in
the woods accidentally killed him.
At age 26, my father had to
take over his late father’s invest-
ment firm along with his debt. Toand by 1990 we had 4,200 acres
and opened as a resort to the pub-
lic. In 2001, we turned it over to
our sons, Sam and David.
When Sandy and I divorced in
2012, it took a toll on me. I only
knew how to do one thing: work.
Then our son, Sam, died in 2016
in a skiing accident, which was so
painful. Sam’s widow, Mary Ce-
leste, is now Blackberry Farm’s
proprietor.
Today, I live in a small two-
story carriage house in Knoxville
on the Tennessee River built in
1917 by John Russell Pope. The
1,500-square-foot house is stucco
with a tile roof and looks Tuscan.
The main floor is where car-
riages were stored. It’s all one
room with southern light.
The power and passion of home
is my legacy. I love home better
than anything. In that tiny house, I
learned to shed all the stuff I didn’t
need in my life and discovered
what matters. But it’s still hard be-
ing in your 60s and changing gears.
—As told to Marc MyersKreis Beall, 67, is the retired co-
founder of Blackberry Farm, an
award-winning resort in East Ten-
nessee. She is the author of “The
Great Blue Hills of God” (Conver-
gent), a memoir.Kreis Beall, left, at the Blackberry
Farm home she owned in 2019, and,
above on left, with parents, Jane
and David Bailey, and sister, Keith,
at their Knoxville home, 1962.HOUSE CALL|KREIS BEALL
An Uninspired Start
FollowedbySuccess
The co-founder of Blackberry Farm navigated a tricky childhood
his credit, my father worked hard
to pay it off. But I’m sure he re-
sented that.
I had such a happy childhood,
largely because I knew how to
maneuver the politics of home
life. I was a kid who observed ev-
erything around me all the time.
There were just two obstacles:
my father and my aunt, who
moved into my paternal grand-
mother’s house with her three
children after Lucien died.
With my father, I didn’t rock
the boat and told him what he
wanted to hear. As for my aunt, I
just stayed out of her way.
Mom was off in the distance,
emotionally, when I was a kid. She
was always there for me, but she
didn’t come from a nurturing
background. Her mother was a
working farmer in the 1930s. As a
child, mom hung out with
her mother while she
worked. She was the prin-
cess of the farm.
In high school, I was as
mediocre as they come. I
had no real aspirations. I
just enjoyed every day.
At 17, I went to Tulane
University. Four years later,
I graduated with a degree
in art history, which qualified me
to work in a museum. I decided to
enroll in paralegal school.
The turning point for me came
in 1975, when I was 22 and met
Sandy Beall, who had just started
the Ruby Tuesday restaurant chain.
We married four months later.
In ’76, we bought Blackberry
Farm. We added on to the property,BEALL RINGERS
Mom still drives?She does,
and still chauffeurs her friendsFavorite flowers?
Lenten roses in win-
ter. In summer, a mix
of antique, David Aus-
tin and hybrid tea rosesWhat are you doing
now?Loving life with
my family and friends,
traveling and cookingMiss working at Blackberry
Farm?No. Now I get to be a
guest.Miss most about Sam?Watch-
ing him with Mary Celeste and
their five children. We are
blessed that his spirit lives on
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FROM LEFT: MIKE BELLEME; RUSSEL PHOTOGRAPHY; ALAMY
NY