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Loran Smith Columnist

Published Saturday, October 15, 2011

Life begins at 40, or is it 50 or 60, or 70 – maybe at 80

TEN MILE, Tenn. -- This unincorporated community is the home of Gene Hartman, a self-made man who believes outdoor exposure refreshes a man's soul and makes him appreciate nature's offerings, all of which stimulate the spirit and bring balance to one's life.

He was always reminded that life begins at 40. He agreed eagerly and took heart. Next thing you know, he was holding the view that life begins at 50, then 60 and then 70. When he turned 80, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. While he still maintains his day job -- marketing of pneumatic stapling and nailing equipment in nearby Knoxville (45 miles away) -- he can't wait to retreat to his 1,700-acre farm, where he often stands on the banks of one of his 14 ponds with a fishing rod in his hands. Sooner rather than later, a 5-pound bass is on the end of the line. His uncontrolled display of affection at doing something he has done countless times is only exceeded when a guest has the same experience.

"Attaboy!" he always exclaims.

After he got established in business, this tall, athletic and genial Tennessean had one constant "attaboy" experience after another. With success, he opted to enjoy life to the fullest. He has an extended range of interests, which began years ago and will never subside.

He has hunted antelope in Africa, quail in over six U.S. states, pheasant in Denmark, and red-leg pardee in Spain. The simple things in life are important to him. Watching, on the plains of Africa, a bull elephant signal with accented bellowing that you should not come any closer. Or sitting on the deck of his log cabin with a cup of coffee and watching the sun come up over Ten Mile Ridge, which the creator left as a footnote when shaping the Great Smokey Mountains.

Gene's favorite Bible verse is Phillipians 1:3: "We are thankful for our friends." It would be a considerable challenge to identify a man who has more friends than this farmer, hunter, businessman and passionate (although level-headed) sports fan.

Last weekend, on the eve of the Georgia-Tennessee game, Johnny Majors drove down for dinner with Gene and his wife, Becky, and their guests. Gene's able farm manager Steve Woodby had grilled steaks. The conversation was spiced by good humor and recall of good times. Both Majors and Hartman are accomplished raconteurs.

"Geno," Hartman's endearing name with his multitude of friends, has developed his farm into a conservation enclave and a spectacular outdoor habitat. Through committed leadership, soliciting personal contributions, and identifying supportive friends, he helped keep Quail Unlimited from biting the dust. On his farm there's plentiful deer, wild quail, imported pheasant, bobcats, coyotes, rabbit, duck (he can flood those ponds for hunter convenience), and turkey.

This successful, hospitable man would rather drive a bulldozer than a Jaguar. He can operate a back hoe, and often does. His best friend is a bush hog. He drools at the sight of anything with a John Deere label. On a tour of his property, you see a plethora of deer and turkey stands nestled into the landscape. Gene can walk out his back door and drop a 10-point buck -- not every day -- but at least on occasion. Country music stars, including Jett Williams, Little Jimmy Dickens, Jennie Pruett, and Jim Ed Brown, come here for fundraisers or just plain relaxation with a shotgun or a fishing pole.

Eventually, the Georgia-Tennessee game had to be reckoned with, Gene in his orange and his guests in red and black.

"I pull hard for my team," Gene said outside Neyland Stadium. "But it isn't life or death with me. We should underscore sportsmanship and civility."

In other words, as they would say at the Ten Mile General Store at the crossroads in downtown Ten Mile: Every man should respect every other man's sentiments for his favorite team.

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