TOWERING TREES hugged both sides of the narrow driveway as gravel crunched beneath the tires of my minivan. Each time I traveled Old Nashville Dirt Road, I had admired this two-story farmhouse with its wraparound porch and brick chimney poking through the center of its shingled roof. Three dormer windows — with the center one being the widest — were built into a single gable extending to the ceiling of the porch. Between fruit trees covered in colorful spring buds, buttercups growing along the fence line, and the natural spring at the base of the hill, everything about this farm was picture-perfect. Renowned artist Thomas Kinkade couldn’t have imagined a more idyllic scene.
“This is the Eakin Family Homestead — a Century Farm — established in 1842. Our great-grandfather, Spencer Eakin, named it ‘Spring Hill Farm.’ This home, built in 1902, replaced the original structure that was here,” Missy Eakin said, shaking my hand.
She welcomed me into the front parlor, where turn-of-the-century furnishings nestled close to the central hearth. The dark, shellacked walls served as an untouched canvas where dozens of oversized oil paintings hung. I studied the faces in the frames as I followed Missy to the single-story kitchen, where her brother, Jim, and sisters, Kathy and Margaret, were seated in birth order around an antique table. Coffee brewed on the counter nearby, and generous slices of pound cake waited to be devoured from their late mother’s china. Later, I learned these saucers and matching teacups had once been a rare splurge for their newly married schoolmarm and her husband, who had also been a teacher.
The four Eakin siblings had grown up inside these walls — on this farm. Missy wasn’t born until the older three were teenagers, so the financial hardships they experienced differed from hers. But all four recalled their parents working in education full-time, then coming home and investing long hours on the farm. Cows and hogs were slaughtered to fill the larder through the frigid winters or sold to pay college tuition. Fruits and vegetables were harvested and preserved. Eggs were a priceless commodity.
Spencer Eakin, their great-great-grandfather, was the first of five brothers who arrived here from Ireland. Their grandfather, James Deery Sr., along with their father, James Deery Jr., were born in the historic home on Main Street beside Legends Steakhouse. Although their grandfather worked for the Nashville, Chattanooga, and St. Louis Railroad, he was fascinated by nature and weather patterns. He noted these in his diary, along with detailed lists of every animal on the farm.
This love of learning was passed down through generations of Eakins, and each sibling, like their parents, graduated from college. Kathy and Missy became educators like their parents. Until she retired in 2009, Kathy worked for a publishing company in Birmingham, Alabama, and had previously been a vocational home economics teacher. Missy’s career in special education spanned 42 years. Since her retirement in May 2025, she has worked in the ticket office at The Celebration alongside Margaret.
Margaret worked at The Fly Manufacturing Company until it closed. Then she spent 22 years in the banking industry. Their big brother, Jim, pursued a career in the Air Force before transitioning to a career with a major airline.
Several streets in Bedford County bear the names of their ancestors, and a local school was renamed in honor of their father.
Kathy said, “Our dad never forgot the faces or the names of his students. He knew who your parents were.”
Missy playfully added, “He knew who your grandparents were.”
“Eakin Elementary School was originally named Central Elementary School when it was located where the Bedford Learning Academy is now. Shelbyville Central High School (SCHS) absorbed the buildings that had been the elementary school into its campus. When the new Central Elementary School was built over by the Shelbyville Recreation Center around 1966, our dad was the principal. Immediately upon his retirement on Feb. 26, 1979, they renamed the building after him,” Missy said.
“He listened to what people had to say,” Kathy continued. “Dad’s philosophy was that he wouldn’t believe everything the child said went on at home, if the parents wouldn’t believe everything the child said happened at school.”
Jim recalled, “Dad found out that children were missing school because they didn’t have the appropriate clothes to wear. He not only made sure they had what they needed, but he insisted they had clothing that matched the styles of what other students wore.”
“You really can’t talk about Daddy without also including Mama,” Margaret said. “She spent 30 years teaching junior English and American History, and she is the one who started the marching band at SCHS. She was a violinist and a vocalist, and she also played the clarinet. Her maiden name was Ruth Tittsworth. She came from a family of 11 children. All but three attended college, and several were teachers.”
Though their parents grew up in Shelbyville, they met after Deery returned from serving in World War II. Missy recalled, “Daddy attended one year at Austin Peay State University, then he enlisted. When he returned, he taught at SCHS for a year. That’s when he met Mama. Several of their students credited themselves with setting them up.”
Missy rose from the table and returned with a wooden rolling pin. “Some of the boys made this for them in their woodshop class. It was a wedding present.”
Ruth died in 1982, and Deery died in 1999. Both are buried in the Cowan-Eakin family cemetery behind the First Baptist Church.
“All four of us smile when we hear a child refer to themselves as an ‘Eakin Einstein,’” Missy said. “Daddy’s picture hangs in the hallway, and students call him the ‘granddaddy of the school.’ Their eyes always get bigger when I tell them he was my daddy.” GN
