Our County

A place with stories

Hickman County is not a place you rush through.
It’s a place you settle into.

It’s rolling hills along the Highland Rim, back roads that bend because the land asked them to, and communities where folks still measure time by seasons, weather, and who they ran into over coffee.

This place has character.
And it always has.

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Once Upon a County

Hickman County was established in 1807, back when knowing the land meant riding ridges, crossing creeks, and learning the hills one careful step at a time.

Early families settled where the soil could be worked and the water could be trusted. They built farms, mills, schools, and communities that didn’t need to be close to town to be strong. Life here required self reliance paired with neighborliness. When help was needed, it usually came from down the road, not down a hallway.

That part hasn’t changed much.

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A Land That Shapes People

Hickman County sits high on the Highland Rim. This is not flat country. The land rolls and rises, opening views that feel earned instead of handed to you.

Those hills shaped how people lived here. They also shaped how people thought here. Distance mattered. Independence mattered. And so did paying close attention to where decisions were made.

Which brings us to one of our favorite stories.

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The Courthouse That Moved at Midnight

When Hickman County was first formed, the county seat was a place called Vernon, located near the Piney River in what is now part of the Nunnelly area.

Then, in 1823, some big wigs decided the county seat should be moved to Centerville.

That decision did not go unnoticed.

Historical records tell us the old log courthouse at Vernon was dismantled and moved, records and all, in the dead of night. This was long before electricity or power tools, when people worked by daylight and lanterns. Moving a courthouse after dark wasn’t practical. It was deliberate. The timing had everything to do with avoiding what would have been some very heated conversations. In those days, disagreements over land, power, and pride didn’t always stay civil.

The move got the job done, but it also guaranteed the story would never be forgotten.

Vernon faded from the map, but the place did not disappear. The site became part of the community we now know as Nunnelly, and a historical marker along State Route 230 still tells the tale.

Some folks say the ghosts of Vernon still want their courthouse back. Others say they just want their name remembered. Either way, the story lingers, passed along with a smile and a shrug. It’s a friendly feud now, told more in laughter than anger, but it leaves a pin on the map and a reminder that in Hickman County, people have always paid attention to where power sits.

And people here have long memories about how decisions are made.

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Crossroads, Trails, and the Way Through

Long before paved roads, the Natchez Trace wound its way through this land, carrying traders, travelers, and stories north and south.

One of those stories involves Meriwether Lewis, whose mysterious death near Grinder’s Stand in 1809 is still debated today. Ask a few locals what happened and you’ll hear more than one version. Like all good local history, the story remains unresolved and very much alive.

Later came new routes layered over old ones.
Interstate 40.
Interstate 840.
Highways 50, 7, 46, 230, and the well traveled Highway 100.

Together with countless county roads, they stitch the county together like a patchwork quilt. These roads are more than lines on a map. They’re how neighbors reach one another, how work gets done, and how a wide county stays connected.

Some folks pass through.
Some folks stay.
Some do both.

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A Beacon on the Hill

Before GPS, before radios, and before anyone said “recalculate,” Hickman County had a beacon light.

Built by the federal government in 1931, the rotating airway beacon was placed on high ground in the county to guide early U.S. mail planes flying between Memphis and Nashville. At a time when pilots navigated by sight and landmarks, that light mattered. It helped planes stay on course through darkness and fog, making Hickman County part of the nation’s earliest air routes.

The beacon stood just across the road from what would later become the Beacon Light Tea Room, which took its name from the light that once turned there night after night. The beacon itself is gone now, removed as technology changed, but the story remains.

It’s a quiet reminder that long before most people ever noticed, this county helped others find their way.

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Good Water and Long Summers

In Bon Aqua, people once came from near and far for the mineral springs, drawn by the promise of good water.

The Bon Aqua Springs resort was a lively place in its day. Cottages, walking paths, music, conversation, and long summer evenings spent enjoying fresh air and good company. The grand hotel is gone now, but the springs and streams remain, quietly reminding us that people have always chosen to come here, not just pass through.

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Stories, Sweets, and a Sense of Humor

Hickman County has never been short on stories.

Some involve Minnie Pearl and “Grinder’s Switch,” a name inspired by a small railroad switch and a whole lot of local personality. Like all good lore, the details shift depending on who’s telling it, and that’s part of the charm.

Every fall, the National Banana Pudding Festival brings folks together for music, laughter, and comfort food that deserves its own celebration. Spoons are raised. Recipes are guarded. Opinions are shared.

And somewhere along the way, Hickman County earned the nickname “Keg County,” a wink toward an earlier chapter of rural ingenuity that folks still smile about today.

We’ve always known how to tell a story, and how not to take ourselves too seriously.

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A Shared Sense of Pride

Hickman County has a way of instilling pride in the people who call it home.

Some families have been here for generations. Others arrived later and put down roots of their own. What binds us together isn’t how long we’ve been here, but how deeply we care, about the land, the people, and the responsibility that comes with looking after this place.

This county has always been shaped by those who show up, look out for one another, and take pride in where they live.

Hickman County isn’t defined by how fast it grows or how loudly it speaks. It’s defined by its stories, its people, and the quiet determination to keep this place worthy of those who call it home.

And that’s a story worth telling, again and again.