Nestled in Crossville, Tennessee, the world’s most colossal treehouse stood as a testament to an extraordinary vision.
Horace Burgess, its creator, claimed divine inspiration for the construction of what became known as “The Minister’s Tree House”. Since 1993, a staggering 250,000 nails were meticulously placed across its ten stories, all supported by the steadfast foundation of six mighty oaks.

Spanning over 3000 square meters, the living space amalgamated across its multiple floors. Remarkably, this wooden marvel, which took 14 years to complete, supposedly incurred a mere $12,000 in costs
What kind of person embarks on such an ambitious endeavor, you might wonder? Perhaps a lunatic, one might think. However, according to Burgess, God directed him to undertake this extraordinary project, promising an unending supply of wood.

True to his conviction, the treehouse featured a central space designed for both prayer and basketball games, along with a penthouse crowning its tenth floor. A substantial half-ton church bell further accentuated its grandeur.
Over the years, the countless planks that composed the treehouse bore witness to the marks left by intrigued tourists who flocked to witness this architectural wonder.
Despite its popularity, the treehouse faced closure in 2012 due to violations of local fire codes. Concerns mounted as the fire department feared the catastrophic consequences of a blaze in a structure entirely crafted from wood.

Regrettably, those fears materialized as the colossal treehouse succumbed to flames in less than half an hour. Standing at an impressive 97 feet in Crossville, Tennessee, the Minister’s Treehouse became engulfed in a destructive inferno.
Constructed through the 1990s with a promise that building a treehouse meant never running out of material, the structure comprised 80 rooms, including classrooms, bedrooms, and a kitchen. Supported by an 80-foot white oak tree, it featured a wraparound porch connecting the five stories with a winding stairway.

The interior, a blend of the quirky and spiritual, boasted a hand-carved Bible, towering cross, and wooden pews. The name “JESUS” was even mowed into the grass beneath the building, emphasizing its spiritual significance.

Tourism ceased in 2012 due to safety breaches, leading to its eventual closure by state fire marshals.

The demise of the Minister’s Treehouse was swift, and Captain Derek Carter of the Cumberland County Fire Department, who had visited the treehouse as a tourist in the past, described it as “very cool, but also very dangerous”.

For those who once marveled at its grandeur, the Minister’s Treehouse remains a cherished memory, even as it has now returned to the earth from which it was built.
Share the story of this once majestic treehouse with family and friends!
.
Australia’s adopted popstar son Leo Sayer reflects on his career
“I look at my role as being a friend of Canberra Hospital, I can bring some pleasure and happiness sometimes to people who are really in difficult times in their lives.”
With backing music from a Bluetooth speaker, Sayer croons his way around the cancer wards, making a human connection with everyone he comes across.

Canberra Region Cancer Centre Operations Manager Caroline McIntyre says Sayer’s visits are typically kept a surprise for patients and staff.
“He’s always come in so discreetly,” she says.
“Normally it’s just very quiet, he comes up in the back lift and says hello to literally everybody.
“Some of them are doing it tough, and to have a little bit of joy and light – it really gives them a lift.
“What makes me happy is to see people getting chemo on their feet dancing.”
Jamming with Jimi Hendrix, Countdown and the Troubadour
Originally a graphic designer by trade, English-born Leo Sayer rose to pop prominence in London in the late 1960s, as a singer-songwriter – and was soon adopted by Australia as an honorary son after his first tour here in 1974.
He went on to become an Australian citizen in 2009.
Sayer was a regular on ABC TV’s Countdown during the 70s and 80s, performing chart-toppers like “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”, “When I Need You”, “More Than I Could Say” and “Orchard Road”.

He blushingly admits they were wild days – when he didn’t always live up to his “good-guy” public persona.
“It was mad, I mean, Top of the Pops in England, Countdown over here,” he says.
“You were mobbed by the fans, I remember being dragged out of a limousine the first tour that I came here, and then speaking to crazy people like Molly Meldrum on TV and trying to sort of like take it all in.”
It seems hard to believe – the petite, well-spoken singer, with a mane of curly hair that inspired changing his name from Gerard to Leo – beating off mobs of screaming fangirls.
Sayer circulated in superstar company, becoming close friends with former Beatles George Harrison and Paul McCartney, collaborating with Roger Daltrey of The Who, and even sharing a sly cigarette or two with John Lennon and Yoko Ono who had a flat above his design studio.
“I met Jimi Hendrix right at the start of his career. I actually jammed with him, playing the harmonica, and him playing the guitar,” he says.
Recalling his 1975 opening night at the famous Troubadour Club in Los Angeles, he looked up to see an intimidating line-up of fans in the front row.

“It was David Bowie, Elton John, and ‘The Fonz’ [Henry Winkler].”
Alongside them: John Cleese, Mick Jagger, Bernie Taupin, and comedian Marty Feldman.
“We never thought it would last, we were adapting to things around us, writing songs about things that are around us,” he says.
“And we thought they were only for our generation — so the amazing thing is my music’s become like a fine wine, where you lay it down and years later, it becomes a collector’s item.
“We’re in an age where the music that I make, young kids are actually latching onto it now, and they’re finding that that generation and that style of music we made is as current now as anything.”
Sayer’s health battles, still spreading hope at 76
Leo Sayer says his hospital charity work caps off a career dedicated to providing joy through music.
“It’s a nice piece of synchronicity really, because I was born in the grounds of a hospital in Shoreham by Sea in Sussex, near Brighton in England,” Mr Sayer said.
“I suppose I’ve always felt comfortable in hospitals and being around hospitals.
“Growing up, my dad was a hospital engineer, Mum was a nurse, my sister was a matron.”

Sayer has health struggles of his own, including three stents in his heart, which help him have a genuine connection to the hospital patients he entertains.
“[My music] is providing something that isn’t taking away from any of the treatment that’s going on. It’s providing something that’s just putting a smile on peoples’ faces.
“Music is communication and that’s what this is all about, we’re communicating, we’re making people feel better.
“We’re not healing people with music, but we are making them feel better about their healing.
“To sell out Canberra Hospital will do me fine.”
Leave a Reply