1 50 13 https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/aeb45ed89706f8aed6581f38aa3defad.pdf e98821bf2abb5144ed41809ae8b32793 PDF Text Text �Recollections of the Catawba Valley by J. Alexander Mull and Gordon Boger Foreword by W.H. Plemmons APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM PRESS Boone, North Carolina �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program, Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1983 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-3837-9 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-3839-3 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �This page intentionally left blank �This page intentionally left blank �The Appalachian Consortium wishes to express appreciation to the following individuals and institutions for their assistance in the printing of this book: The Appalachian Collection, Belk Library, Appalachian State University Catawba County Historical Museum Crossnore School, Inc. Mr. and Mrs. Albert Deal The News Herald, Morganton, North Carolina David Lane �This page intentionally left blank �Foreword Recollections of the Catawba Valley is a selection of stories chosen from a much longer list of titles by two long-time, well-known citizens of that valley. The late Alex Mull was of one of the first families of that area. Gordon Boger, though born elsewhere, is almost considered native to it. Many of their "Recollections" have appeared before, primarily in The News Herald of Morganton to which each contributed rather regularly. While the stories themselves are classified by the authors and publishers as recollections, some of them are historical in content. Naturally, in such a collection, some are hand-medowns, variations of "thrice-told tales," and a jew of them are not directly related to the Valley, except by authorship. Yet, they are of the same flavor-Appalachia, authentic, and otherwise. Keen reader interest in these "Recollections" will be largely localized in the Catawba Valley and among readers of Morganton's The News Herald where they are on favorite reading lists. But, those of us outside the Valley should not be misled. Lovers of local history, folklorists, storytellers, and those with a yen for piedmont �and mountain flavor will enjoy the contributions of these two good storytellers. They prove that, when combined, good storytelling and good writing make for good reading. Good reading, plus the setting or locale, was the main reason the Appalachian Consortium chose these ..Recollections" for one of its two major publications for this year. It is a worthy addition to similar previous publication contributions of the Consortium through such volumes as Bits of Mountain Speech, A Right Good People, Tall Tales From Old Smoky, and the like. Time spent reading these ..Recollections" will not end when the reading itself has been finished. That time will lengthen and increase continually as you re-read and reflect on ..Recollections." W.H. Plemmons �Table of Contents Before the White Man .................... 1 McDonalds, McDowells, and McPhersons .... 6 The Long, Long Trail ................... 10 Pioneer Farming ........................ 14 Martin's Ghost Still Rides ................. 17 Bechtler's Gold ......................... 20 The Ridge Where Jonas Froze ............. 22 Courthouse Chaos ....................... 26 Hatching a Dream ...................... 31 Fate Lane ............................. 37 Overmountain Men ..................... 42 The Generation Gap ..................... 51 Sun to Sun ............................. 56 Buckeyes for Rumatiz .................... 60 Sayin's and Meanin's ..................... 63 Snake'ing the Kivers ..................... 65 House Raisings and Parlors ............... 70 Much Obliged .......................... 73 Coon Huntin' .......................... 76 The Valley's First Industry ................ 79 �Kickapoo Medicine Company ............. 88 Brown Mountain Spooks ................. 91 The Ice Man ........................... 94 Victorian Foibles ....................... 97 Don't Slam the Door .................... 100 Longjohns and Featherbeds .............. 104 Winning is Everything .................. 107 Child's Play ........................... 110 Tin Lizzies and Whimmey-Dittles ........ 114 Shooting the Anvil ..................... 118 Childhood Memories ................... 121 �This page intentionally left blank �This page intentionally left blank �Before the White Man America was first discovered about twenty thousand years ago by people from Asia, according to information collected by anthropologists. These people crossed the land bridge between Siberia and Alaska in pursuit of the large herds of animals, and followed them into the valleys east of the Rocky Mountains. Here in the Catawba Valley, artifacts have been found that date back 10 to 12 thousand years. These people were hunters and gatherers, using animals for food, clothing, and shelter. They traveled in small family groups, seldom staying long in any one place. It is hard to visualize now what a veritable paradise this Catawba River Valley was in the early days, before the advent of the white man. Virgin forests were loaded down with fruits and nuts. Game animals, birds, and fish of all kinds were plentiful. Abundant rainfall and clear mountain streams guaranteed the annual production of fruits, wild grains, and edible roots. About four to five thousand years ago new ideas in hunting, along with some primitive farming and village life, were developed by these people. About 500 B.C., the Indians in this area 1 �began to make pots of clay to replace those of stone they had previously used. They began to grow fields of corn and vegetables. Instead of wandering in small family groups, they began to settle in permanent or semi-permanent locations, and villages were established. The bow and arrow replaced the spear as their major weapon. Their villages grew in size until they resembled towns. Suddenly, about 1500 A.D., their lifestyle was violently changed. Indians from the south, known as the Invaders, who were better equipped and organized, with copper breastplates, copper axes, and a knowledge of warfare, invaded these tranquil villages and drove the farmers from their homes into the northern and western parts of the state. There they remained until their children and grandchildren obtained guns from the Europeans and drove them back south. Indian tribes were distinguished by different languages, dress, and customs. Each group or village had its own chief and council only loosely affiliated with other groups of the same tribe. They, therefore, were never able to act in a unified fashion against aggression. It has been estimated that if all Indians in America had been united against the white invaders, they could have repulsed the whites with little difficulty. In effect, it would have taken many additional years to conquer them, and they would probably have been able to retain much more of 2 �their own territory. As it was, the various tribes fought each other with the same fierceness they displayed against the whites. In this immediate area there were two major and one minor tribe when the first white settlers began coming into the Catawba Valley area. They were the Cherokee, the Catawba, and the Creek. The Cherokee were the most numerous, industrious, and intelligent. They were also, along with the Creek, the most hostile toward the early settlers. The Catawba, with one exception, were uniformly friendly and helpful to the whites and acted as a barrier against the more hostile tribes. Historians think that the Cherokee were related to the Iroquois and migrated south from the Northern states in search of better hunting grounds. Here in the lush Catawba River Valley and across the South Mountains into South Carolina and Georgia, they found a veritable paradise of game and farming lands. The Catawba River was named for the Catawba tribe, who were perhaps the first to inhabit this area, so an inevitable conflict arose between the Cherokee and Catawba tribes. According to Indian legends, this conflict developed into a full-fledged war over the Catawba Valley that saw hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of warriors killed in battle. The legend is that after this big battle, the chiefs of 3 �the two tribes finally got together to smoke the pipe of peace and to divide the territory between them. The Catawba would occupy the territory east of the river, and the Cherokees claimed that west of the river. It is said that this treaty was never broken by either side. Many people do not know that in the early days the Cherokee Indians had their own farming lands, a republican form of government, and a system of home industries and education. In later years, under the leadership of the great Chief Sequoia, they developed a written alphabet and printing press. It is a matter of record that at least one chief was a friend of Jefferson, Lincoln, and Jackson. Only one vote in Congress prevented the State of Cherokee from becoming a reality. It is also true that this tribe of Indians were our allies during the War of 1812. Let's see how they were rewarded. As our ancestors came to this area in increasing numbers, the Cherokee were pushed further and further westward into the Blue Ridge Mountains by treaty, purchase, and confiscation toward their mortal enemies: the Creeks. Being more numerous, the Cherokee were able to push the Creeks into what is now Tennessee and Kentucky. This left the Cherokee with very little farming land but excellent game country, so they were able to survive. The greed of our ancestors for more and more land con4 �tinued until these people were forced to fight for their very existence. In efforts to preserve peace and gain living space, they sent their Chiefs to Washington to see the "Great White Father," but to no avail. A combination of fear, greed, and propaganda aroused so much feeling that in 1838, the Union Army came to our mountains with orders to remove by force the whole Indian Tribe to what is now Oklahoma. During this forced march, 4,000 Indians died along the way in what has come to be called "The Trail of Tears." Some of the Cherokee chose to risk the death penalty, which had been imposed against those refusing to move, rather than leave their beloved mountains. They hid in coves and rugged peaks of the Nantahalas and other inaccessible retreats until the great hue and cry had died down. Since these rugged hills were worthless for farming, the remaining few Cherokee finally established small huts and villages until the government eventually recognized their right to own land and set aside an Indian Reservation. There are now over 6,000 Cherokee Indians in the Eastern Tribe with nearly half of them living on the Qualla Reservation in Cherokee, North Carolina. 5 �McDonalds, McDowells, and McPhersons They were called "Scotch-Irish," the hardy pioneers who were among the first to settle permanently in the Blue Ridge Mountain country. The Scotch-Irish name, however, is somewhat confusing since these people were not Irish at all. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, practically all of the Northern Ireland (Ulster) became the property of the English Crown by confiscation, conquest, and the right of Escheat. The Irish who survived were moved to the South of Ireland. During the next fifty years more than 200,000 settlers, mainly from Scotland, occupied this land in the northern part of Ireland. Hence the name "Scotch-Irish," or more accurately, Scotsmen from Ireland. These Scots were Protestant Presbyterians, and they didn't mix well with the hot headed Irish Catholics. The conflict between these two groups has been violent and bloody for centuries, and is still boiling today. The Scots, who have always been noted for their thrift and industry, prospered to such an extent that the merchants in England became jealous and had laws enacted to suppress manufacturing in Ireland. These acts pro6 �hibited the Scots from selling their goods to anyone but England at prices established by the English. These unjust laws, to a great extent, were responsible for the exodus of the ScotchIrish to the New World. Most of the emigrants landed at Philadelphia or Charleston, South Carolina. The Carolinas seem to have been preferred over the more northern areas. In Pennsylvania they ran head-long into the fanaticism of Quakers who had already claimed most of the good farming lands. From there, like many others before them, they turned south to less populous areas. Some stopped off in the Shenendoah Valley of Virginia, while others continued into North Carolina where they met up with the Scotch-Irish who had landed at Charleston. Both groups moved north and west into the upland counties of the Carolinas. The first battle of the American Revolution was actually fought in Alamance County, North Carolina by a group of Scotch-Irish who called themselves the "Regulators." They were defeated by Colonel William Tryon, then the Royal Governor of this province, on the banks of Alamance Creek in 1771. Later, some of these same men signed the famous Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. No less than six of the signers bore the name of Alexander, and a host of others were likewise of Scottish descent. In 1784, after an agreement with the 7 �Cherokee, Samuel Davidson, with his wife, infant daughter, and a slave, crossed the Swannanoa Gap and built his home on Christian Creek. In settling here he became the first white man to settle west of the Blue Ridge. It was a custom in those days to turn your horse or cow out to graze at night with a bell attached to the animal's neck so they could be found in the morning. On one such morning he went early to get his horse and followed the sound of the bell all the way to the top of the mountain where he was ambushed and killed by Indians. They had removed the bell from the horse and lured Davidson to their hiding place. When his wife heard the shots, she divined what had happened. She took her infant daughter and slave and walked sixteen miles to the settlement, to what is now Old Fort. There, a posse was organized which caught the raiding party, killed several of them, and drove theremainder into the hills. Only a few months after the murder of Davidson, his twin brother, William, with his brother-in-law, John Alexander, together with James and Thomas Alexander, came back over the mountains and founded on Bee Tree Creek what became known in history as the Swannanoa Settlement. This opened the way for additional exploration and settlement of the Blue Ridge Country. At the close of the Revolutionary War, the 8 �state of North Carolina owed much money to her soldiers which she couldn't pay in cash, so many thousands of acres of land in what is now Tennessee were awarded to those who fought in the War. Thus, the flow of emigrants continued westward until the Scotch-Irish can now be found in every state in the Union. In 1827, a wagon road, called the Buncombe Turnpike, was completed to the Tennessee line connecting the frontier towns of Knoxville and Nashville to the markets in the South. This became a very popular road for the settlers of the day, as reported in an Asheville paper in 1898, that more than 150,000 hogs annually traveled through Asheville on the way to Southern markets. It might be interesting to visualize the traffic in the fall after the crops had been gathered. Wagons loaded with barrels of apples, hams, chestnuts, and furs would be followed by the inevitable hound dogs. Droves of pigs and hogs were herded along the road. Heifers and steers were tied to the back of wagons while men in their homespun clothing, frontier jackets, and brogan shoes led them to market. 9 �The Long, Long Trail Everybody knows him, and all Americans claim him. He was a man who created a legend during his lifetime that is still depicted daily in the news and television. He was a good example of the saying, "Truth is stranger than fiction." He was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania in 1735 of Scotch-Irish and Welsh parents who brought their three-year-old son in search of more plentiful game and better living conditions. His last name was Boone, and the trails he carved from the wilderness extend into Florida, both Carolinas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Missouri. Following are some of the less publicized events in the life of this extraordinary man. He unsuccessfully tried to be a farmer in Yadkin County. He got deeper in debt each year he farmed until age 35. Finally, with nothing to lose, he took off for the forbidden land of "Caintuck," as the Indians called it. Kentucky was a land of meadows, flowing with the proverbial milk and honey, and thick with deer and buffalo. He left behind his wife and a sizeable crop of barefoot children, and with six other hunters, 10 �he headed for the Watauga Settlement which was the western most outpost in what is now Eastern Tennessee. Here was the beginning of the "Warriors Path," a trail known only to the Indians that wound through the rugged mountains across the Cumberland Gap into the "Promised Land." He came back empty-handed to Carolina in just under two years. The Indians had stolen all his furs and everything else he owned except his trusty rifle, but they had spared his life. Still the experience and knowledge was invaluable. He learned how to live and walk as the Indians did. He learned their customs and gained their respect. In 1773, six families including his own decided to settle in this territory and began the long, long journey. Along the way, Cherokees ambushed the party, killing several of the men, and captured, tortured, and killed Boone's sixteenyear-old son, sending the whole party back in horror. Two years later, a Colonel Henderson offered the Cherokees $50,000 worth of trading goods for most of "Caintuck," and the offer was accepted. Boone was chosen as leader of this party, and along with 30 hand-picked axmen, a wagon trail was cleared cross the Cumberla~d Gap. Here, in the midst of the bluegrass, on a bend of the Kentucky River was founded Boonesborough, which was to be the western11 �most outpost for the next twenty years. It was here that his daughter, Jemima, was kidnapped by the Shawnees and carried deep into the forest. Dan'l and a number of companions followed the trail for two days before a rescue could be attempted. Surrounding the Indian camp, the men took dead aim at the enemy and fired in unison, rescuing the girl unharmed. Just a few months later, Jemima rushed out of the stockade and dragged her wounded father back into Boonesborough during a seige. The Revolution had started, and though the Cherokees were allies of the Colonists, the English had armed the Shawnee, who were well established in this area, to oppose the settlers. At one time during this war, Daniel Boone and 26 of his companions were captured by the Shawnees and carried to a camp in Ohio. It was here that he showed his true greatness. He made friends with his captors, talked his enemies out of killing the others, and was adopted by the Chief. When he learned of a planned assault on Boonesborough, he escaped and made his way back to the stockade in time to organize his outnumbered defenders against the Shawnee. Though his defenses were pitifully weak, he out-maneuvered, out-talked, and out-fought the Indians to victory. To Boone himself, the victory left only a bitter taste. When Kentucky became a state, the sheriffs immediately sold 10,000 acres of 12 �Boone's land for taxes. He had been paid in land for his efforts, but his title to the land was worthless. The land on which his home was located was sold out from under him. Boone was bankrupt. Poorer than when they came to the "Promised Land" and disgusted at this unjust treatment, he went to Virginia. He stayed here for a few years, but his itchy feet wouldn't stay still. At 70 years of age, Boone took his family to Missouri, which was then under Spanish rule. There, Spanish officials gave him title to 8,500 acres of land. Boone was granted the title of Magistrate and held court underneath an elm tree. During the War of 1812, he volunteered for the Army and was disgusted to be turned down because of his age. He was only 78 years old at the time. When Missouri became a part of the United States, the title to Boone's land was declared null and void due to his failure to take care of some technicalities. Had it not been for a special act of Congress in 1810 certifying his right to this land, Daniel Boone would have again been kicked out in the cold and left penniless. However, a grateful country finally paid tribute to a great man with words of praise for "the man who had opened the way for millions of his fellowmen" over the long, long trail into the wilderness. 13 �Pioneer Farming North Carolina has always been noted as a leading agricultural state with more small farms than any other. This is especially true of the Catawba Valley where the rolling topography discouraged large farms for the early settlers. Another reason for the small farms was the policy of the Lord Proprietors and the English Crown of limiting the acreage in land grants to not more than 640 acres per household. Of course, some were .able to acquire more land through purchase or special privilege, but for the great majority of early settlers, this was enough for their needs. The early settlers did not acquire a deed or title to the land chosen, but were issued "patents" or land grants, which permitted them to occupy a certain tract of land, provided they cultivated the soil and paid a "quitrent" to the Crown. Thus, in fact, until the Revolution, the settlers didn't actually own the land, but merely rented it. Farming in the early days was very primitive. Actually, the Indians were better farmers than most of our ancestors and taught them how to survive. Land was so plentiful that no thought was given to conservation of fertility 14 �of the soil. When a portion of land was no longer productive, the farmer just moved on to another section. With very few tools to work with, it was a backbreaking job to clear enough land for survival. The smaller trees and underbrush were cut with axes and the smaller stumps removed. Larger trees were merely killed by cutting a ring around the bark and planting crops beneath the dead limbs. Cultivation was accomplished with hoes, which were also used to chop weeds and new growth away from the crops. The hoes were used to scrape up little mounds of earth called "hills" into which the seed was planted. Even as late as the Civil War, some planters reported their crops by the number of "hills" rather than in acreage, as we do now. This was because plowing was virtually impossible among the stumps and roots left in the soil. Also, hand labor was cheaper and more available than livestock or cash to buy equipment. Unlike the large plantations in eastern North Carolina or our sister states of the Deep South, the Catawba Valley was an area of small farms. Slavery was never very popular nor profitable in this area, even among the wealthy planters. Early landowners of note did possess quite a number of slaves, but, contrary to the popular conception of the day, they did not find it a profitable business. Most landowners considered 15 �their slaves members of their own family and refused to sell any of their slaves. As the slave population increased, the landowner ran out of land and work to keep his slaves busy. Still, he was responsible for their welfare and had to see that they were fed and clothed. 16 �Martin's Ghost Still Rides Excitement has long since died down in the Brindletown area, but for nearly a decade, area folks were part of a gold rush. Brindletown is a small, quiet community about 11 miles southwest of Morganton. One would never know the town existed if it weren't for the name painted on the fire department, but it wasn't always small and quiet. Sam Martin's discovery of gold in 1828 created a bustling town almost overnight as prospectors came to the area by the hundreds. Sam was a New Englander of Irish descent, and he spent his early life prospecting for gold. He looked for it in South and Central America, but was unsuccessful. In 1828, broke and despondent, he started walking back home. By the time Martin reached Brindletown, he was in rags. Bark stripped from trees replaced the soles of his shoes. He stopped at the home of a shoemaker, who gave him food and shelter. While staying with the shoemaker, Martin shared with the family his stories of the faraway places and strange people he had seen. Soon the neighbors began dropping in every evening to hear his tales. After a while, he regained his strength, and with a pair of stout shoes and a 17 �decent set of clothing, he told his hosts that he would be leaving for home the next day. Martin woke up early the next morning and stood at the door looking down the slope toward Silver Creek. The logs of the cabin were chinked with mud, and Sam detected some golden glints in it. Excited, he called the shoemaker, who told him that the mud had come from the creek. The two men began panning the sandy bottom of the stream at once, and they found gold with almost every dip and swirl of the pans. At first they tried to keep their discovery a secret, working only at night by the light of a pine torch. Curious neighbors soon found out what they were doing, and the rush was on. Sam Martin panned for gold for about six months. He was never one to stay in one place very long, so when he figured he had enough to last him for the rest of his life, he decided to leave Brindletown in style. Martin wore a tailor-made suit, a black hat, and shiny boots. He was driving a new coach pulled by a pair of fine horses, and he carried his gold in his saddlebags. He cracked his whip, yelled goodbye to his friends, and headed up the road towards Morganton, but he never reached his destination. At least no one remembered seeing Sam Martin. The sight of a man dressed in the latest fashion and driving a fancy rig would certainly have aroused a great deal of comment in that 18 �sleepy little village. He never reached his home in Connecticut either. Martin's disappearance is a mystery to this day. A lot of people knew of his departure in advance, and folks have speculated that he was waylaid, murdered, and robbed. No trace of Sam or his possessions was ever found. The old man who first told me the story of Sam Martin said that he heard it when he was a child. He and his family lived near Brindletown. He said that sometimes late on a dark night everything would suddenly get still. The crickets and night birds would hush, and if you listened hard, you could hear the faint clatter of hoofbeats and the creaking of a coach on a rough road to Morganton. Folks believed that it was Sam Martin's ghost still trying to find its way to New England. 19 �Bechtler' s Gold The Brindletown gold rush of 1828 brought hundreds of prospectors to this area. Subsequent strikes were made in Rutherford and McDowell counties. Gold mining soon became the principle industry in this part of the country for more than a decade. Gold became the main medium of exchange in the area because regular U.S. currency was in scarce supply at the time. The nearest government mint was in Philadelphia, and a shortage of gold there limited the amount of currency issued. It would have been much too dangerous an undertaking to ship the gold to Philadelphia. Consequently, the sight of leather pouches or quills filled with gold was common in the early days of the gold strike. News of the gold strike quickly reached Europe. In 1820, Christopher Bechtler, a German metallurgist and jeweler, came to Rutherfordton with his two sons and a nephew. Here he opened a jewelry store and sold clocks, watches, and numerous other gold items. Bechtler offered to mint gold coins for the government, and this soon became his main occupation. Between 1830 and 1840, Bechtler struck nearly two and a quarter million dollars in 20 �gold coins using presses and dies he designed himself. They were all in $5, $2.50, or $1 denominations. Bechtler's coins contained at least as much gold as those coins that were minted in the U.S. Treasury. Some coins of the same denomination differed in size, as Bechtler allowed for impurities in the gold. After Bechtler's death, his sons, Augustus and Christopher, carried on their father's tradition for a while. The Government established a regional mint in Charlotte, and the Bechtlers retired from minting gold coins. They remain distinguished in our nation's history as being the only private citizens ever to coin gold with government permission. 21 �The Ridge Where Jonas Froze Choosing the name for a town may seem like a difficult task today. In earlier days, this job was left up to community members who simplified the job greatly. Most town names were derived from local landmarks, first settlers, or community leaders. It was not uncommon for a town to change names as often as new officials took office or local attractions became popular. The town of Drexel was originally known as Baker. This village sprang up around the saw mill built by Samuel Huffman and D.B. Mull in 1899. As the town grew, it became necessary to officially name it, so Huffman and Mull asked the local railroad superintendent for suggestions. Among the names suggested was Drexel, a famous family from Pennsylvania who owned a majority of the railroad stock. The name stuck and this small town six miles east of Morganton is still known as Drexel. Morganton's name has its own history. First called Alder Springs, this town was not renamed until after the Revolutionary War. General Daniel Morgan, a Revolutionary hero, was honored when the town was named Morgansborough. Later, it was shortened to its 22 �present day Morganton. Few people would recognize Turkeytail or Sigmundsburg as former titles for Glen Alpine. A nearby tree whose shape resembled a turkey's tail was the basis for the town's first name. Later, two brothers named Sigmund established a store and post office and changed the name to Sigmundsburg. The name Glen Alpine became a permanent one when the Glen Alpine Springs Hotel became so popular that people often used Sigmundsburg and Glen Alpine interchangeably. The history of Connelly Springs is similar to that of Glen Alpine. Originally called Icard with a post office named Happy Home, this town took its current name from the once prosperous Connelly Springs Hotel. Chesterfield's past and present names were derived from local postmasters. J.C. Hood headed the town's mail service for a number of years. Therefore, the post office was called Hoodsville until John Chester became postmaster and secured permission to change the name to Chesterfield. Rutherfordton is the namesake of John Rutherford, a wealthy landowner from the Bridgewater community. He donated the money for purchase of 200 acres of land to establish a college. Robert L. Abernathy, a noted educator, minister, lecturer, and founder of Rutherford College, named the college and 23 �Connelly Springs Hotel N}. 1/i 11.': /loki' ffl,• liln !'If/ o;' iujiwmiu~· !I"" tf111f tf1is d,·/i~ldfid .··•I( 111111' ,. J·l·snJ·I· is ,,,,. O/U'/1 t•tl 1OJ' 1/11· J'rrr·pl iltll fJ/ t./llt',"'·''· p/1'{/!.ft ll~fl.•wlj !11 ·'/Jifl"t '"' jutilts-lakiu:.., lo atld to flu~ ('tJJIIjflrl out! ,,t,·ostl/'f' oj oll1rloJ "'"!! JHIIJ·nlli:t• IJ/1'. T/11 I'• llllll'ku!JI, nu·olir• fll'llflrt-lirs oj' 1!11' 1/'1111'1·. 1!11• sllllllu·ir,us nf/1/fJS/Iflfl'•' tll/1/ /It•• 1/1/."UII'IIfiSSt't/ fwUflf!J flj /fit• S/11'- 1/'llf fw 1'/ltloii'SI d flit 1/lf 11'/111 ""'' /.\(/(/ Ji•l'l "''"''''-~I'll 11'1'1''· /'/(1/1/lfiii~S. • fll'ill!.:-' u~ 1rd p, r Duv. $2 ~I' ca " 11 /t(fl'l ri,,ift'rf tf11• l),); VV~ek, $H oo to $1CJ Of), tH c u1 d1ng to loetlll )n of r·o 1111 • "' '1unth, $~0 - oo to $20 OIJ. Tl•r m \NIIh Fnn111u s. fiii!Jitrkl'!s jiJI'. lllll'!illll/1111, 11'111'1'1' I 'rllll'!tl's tl'il/ mr·t·llruins. J:r·spt'l'ljill/fl. JOH Early hotel advertisement 24 �community after its benefactor. Jonas Ridge received its name from a tragic occurrence. A man by the name of Jonas froze to death while on a hunting trip, and the area was first referred to as the ridge where Jonas froze. It was quite natural to put the ridge together with Jonas for the name, Jonas Ridge. Hildebran had its beginning when a saw mill and country store were set up near the railroad station. Five years later the store passed into the hands of Jack Hildebrand from whom the place took its name. In 1893, the followers of the Italian religious leader Peter Waldo began a colony in Western North Carolina. Here, they realized their goal of attaining religious freedom. Valdese, the name chosen by Waldo's followers as the name of their colony, is the Italian name for Waldensian. As you can see, many towns were named by the postmaster in honor of themselves. Others were named for happenings, products, or just descriptions of the locations. In early times if you mentioned Adakoa, Brindletown, Joy, Worry, Table Rock, Gold, Arney's Crossroad, Henderson's Mill, or Walker's Knob, everyone knew exactly where you meant. 25 �Courthouse Chaos As a boy, I would climb the winding stairs to the courtroom and watch the great legal minds of that day represent their clients with skill, dedication, and a complete mastery of their profession. Those are fond recollections for me, but the old courthouse harbors many more. In the early 1800's, court proceedings were not only a time for legal issues, but also a major social event for the people of the area. An 1824 act of the North Carolina State Legislature decreed that a term of the State Supreme Court be held in Morganton in August of each year. Appeals from Rowan and Mecklenburg counties and all counties west of those two were to be heard during these sessions. This became the top event of the year for all Western North Carolina since the most outstanding lawyers, judges, and court officials of the state gathered here for the court sessions. The Chief Justice and his associates and other officers of the court came in big, red, Concord coaches drawn by teams of either four or six horses. The driver, sitting on his high top seat, always blew his long horn with a tune called "Apple Dumplings for Supper" as he approached town. It is said that when the horn 26 �Burke County Courthouse blew, it was like the "pied piper.. to all the little boys in town. While court was in session, all the local hotels, boarding houses, and private rooms were filled. Wealthy tourists came in their own private carriages or on horseback with their servants. This was the season for parties and dances all over the county. Often people came to spend the night and stayed to dance a week. One of the most intriguing incidents witnessed in the courtroom occurred in the fall of 1851 27 �and involved lawyers William W aightsill Avery and Sam Fleming. Avery, a Burke County native, was defending a client from McDowell County against his legal opponent, Fleming, who was from Yancey County. Fleming became incensed at Avery's vigorous advocacy in a case which involved a guardianship. After court had adjourned, Fleming confronted Avery on the street and challenged him to a fist fight. Avery refused. Fleming then drew from under his coat a cowhide whip and began beating Avery severely. Avery's efforts to protect himself with his fists against a whip of this nature were useless. He was left bloody and wounded on the street until a friend rendered him aid. This incident left Avery with a horrible dilemma. Under the moral code of the day, he must either destroy himself or his opponent. Avery was advised by friends and family members that he must kill Fleming to uphold his own honor. Avery did not act upon the matter until court convened several weeks later. The first day of court passed without incident. The next day Fleming entered the courtroom and was speaking to a friend. Avery, who sat only a few feet away, stood up, took two steps forward, pulled a pistol from his coat, and shot Fleming in the heart. He then threw his empty pistol at the body of his fallen rival. 28 �This event took place in the presence of the judge, sheriff, court officers, a number of lawyers, and all the spectators in the crowded courtroom. The defendant, Avery, was jailed for three days. On the fourth day, a jury was selected and empaneled. When the trial began, the prosecution based its case on "prima facie" evidence. The assertion of the defense was that the indignity heaped on the accused by Fleming had calculated to disgrace, degrade, and ruin Avery. On the fifth day following the shooting, all the evidence had been presented by the prosecution and defense. The judge charged Avery with murder and dismissed the jury to debate Avery's guilt or innocence. The jury deliberated for only ten minutes and returned a verdict of "not guilty." This decision of the jury was based on the fact that Avery was a highly respected man, and he was thought to be merely defending his honor, an asset greatly prized in those days. Exciting people and trials are not the only significant events to compose the courthouse's colorful history. The building itself is something of a structural marvel. Its solid construction of native stone blocks accounts for its standing today. As the end of the Civil War was nearing, the Union Army's General Alvan Gillem led a raid through the Catawba River Valley. Gillem's men moved into Morganton and set up head29 �quarters in the courthouse. They then entered every house in Morganton and looted, stole, or destroyed everything of value. When Gillem and his men moved on, they tried to destroy the courthouse by fire. The building's solid stone construction defied their destructive intent. The records housed in the courthouse were destroyed instead as a calling card of the Union Army. That senseless act of vandalism served no military purpose and in later years became a headache for lawyers and a heartache for historians. 30 �Hatching a Dream Just before the turn of the century, two brothers had a dream, a vision, an inspired ambition. A dream that was born in the heart of the Appalachian Mountain region, not only from real necessity, but also from a great yearning of the people in the rugged mountain country. This need and desire was for the education and self-improvement of a people who had been bypassed by civilization and were living many years behind the time. They wanted to be able to read and to write, to speak so others could understand them,. and to get in the mainstream of life. The problem was that few among these thousands of mountain folk were capable of teaching others. The need for teachers inspired brothers B.B. and D.D. Dougherty of Boone, North Carolina to set out on a crusade of "teaching teachers." Their first venture was called Watauga Academy, the antecedent of what is now Appalachian State University, with hundreds of students graduating yearly into the teaching profession. I attended Appalachian Training School, as it was called in 1927, when Dr. Blan B. Dougherty was president and his brother, 31 �Dolph, was business manager. During my four years there, I came to know Dr. Blan Dougherty pretty well. In appearance, he was slender, dark complected, nearly bald, save the rim of coal black hair surrounding his crown, sported a little black mustache, and seemed to be very grim-faced and straight-laced. This appearance of grimness, I always thought, was to cover up his native sense of humor in order to lend a look of dignity to his dedicated cause. A tale I once heard about Dr. Blan concerns one of his "walking spells." Dr. Blan liked to walk. When he had a problem on his mind, he would stroll through the woods or over the campus, hands clasped behind his back, his head bent forward. During these "thinking'' spells, which were generally at night, he hardly knew where he was and would walk for miles until his problem was finally solved. One night he was startled out of his reverie by a keen "whistle" that seemed to come from over behind the girls dormitory. His curiosity exceeding his mental problem of the moment, he quietly obtained a vantage spot behind a tree where he could see what was taking place. Shortly, a window opened on the second story of the old building, and a bed sheet dropped down nearly to the ground. A young man slipped from the shadows, grasped the sheet and was hoisted rapidly through the window. After some little time, the sheet and boy appeared again, and the 32 �B.B. Dougherty 1870-1857 D.D. Dougherty 1869-1929 Watauga Academy in 1905 33 �night visitor slipped quietly off into the darkness. Rather than raise a fuss to catch the boy, the good professor decided to see who was operating the bed sheet elevator and for what purpose. When he gave a low whistle, sure enough, down came the sheet. Grasping it like the one before, he was hauled rapidly upward until his head was even with the window sill. Upon seeing at close hand the kind of "fish" they had caught, the girls, with a shriek, turned loose the sheet, and our hero fell to the ground and sustained a broken collar bone. The next morning, two girls from the dorm were missing. They had unaccountably become ill during the night and had gone home. Over the years, little Watauga Academy grew in size and stature, due in great measure to those two men. Today, with University status, the total enrollment is about 10,000, including 1,000 graduate students. Many qualified teachers from this institution have helped improve the educational standards all over the country. During this same period, another dream was being "hatched." Born of the same need and desperate desire for improvement, a couple from Davidson, North Carolina, Doctors Mary and Eustace Sloop, began in a small way to improve the standards of living through education of the mountain people who were avid for the 34 �opportunity. Starting from "scratch," the two doctors were finally able to establish a small school at Crossnore, North Carolina. Today the school has a campus of 75 acres and an enrollment of 74 children who are housed in one of eight dormitories. Most of these children come from broken homes. All of this was accomplished through the "boot strap" efforts of local residents under the leadership of this wonderful couple. Rag shaking at Crossnore One of the prime sources of income at this school is what is known locally as the "rag shaking." This takes place in a small warehouse or store building where gifts, mostly of second hand clothing, furniture, costume jewelry, 35 �books, etc., are sorted and sold to the public. The merchandise of every imaginable description is donated by individuals and civic organizations throughout the country and has a dual purpose. It provides income through cash sales for the school, and supplies inexpensive clothing for the local people. 36 �Fate Lane In days gone by, moonshiners were a dime a dozen, but the moonshiner who paid tax on the spirits he produced was one of a kind. The man to whom I refer was Lafayette (Fate) Lane, and paying the required manufacturer's tax on his corn whiskey and apple brandy was only one of his many distinguishing characteristics. Fate Lane was a legend in his own time in Western North Carolina. Born to Irish immigrant parents in 1813, Fate lived to be 99 years old. During the course of his colorful life, he was married to eight different wives and sired 43 children. In addition, it was common knowledge in the community that children by other women bore the Fate Lane stamp. Fate made literally thousands of gallons of apple brandy from the fruit grown in his own large, well-kept orchard. Being a scrupulously honest man, he paid the required tax on every gallon of spirits that he ever distilled. Fate consumed a great deal of the products of his distilleries, but at 99, he proved that liquor in large quantities and women in great numbers were not necessarily detrimental to a man's health. A great many stories have been told about 37 �Fate Lane 1813-1912 Lafayette Lane. This one is almost beyond belief. Back around 1875 there was a bawdy house in downtown Morganton which presented a problem for the local police. Fate and the officers were on good terms, and when they asked him to do them a favor, he agreed. 38 �They asked him if he and his boys, on their next visit to town, would empty the house of its residents and burn it. True to his word, on their next trip to Morganton, Fate and his sons escorted the ladies from the house and burned it to the ground. To Lafayette Lane, with eight wives at home, it seemed incredible that any man in his right mind would pay for the services provided in a bordello. Fate's action at the bawdy house did not meet with the approval of all the local officers of the law, and a warrant charging him with arson was served on him. The Superior Court jury returned a verdict of guilty, and the judge asked Fate to stand and be sentenced. Instead, the convicted man approached the bench and pulled a large iron weight from his pocket. He struck the judge on the head with the weight, knocking his Honor, sprawling and semiconscious, to the floor. Fate then rode home, disregarding pleas of lawmen to return and take his medicine. Fate Lane was never sentenced in the arson case, and no warrant was ever served on him for assaulting the judge. Lafayette Lane was a patriotic man, and he used to come to Morganton on the Fourth of J uly for the celebration that took place on that date every year. Once he loaded his wagon on July 3rd, placing thereon two 50-gallon barrels, 39 �one filled with whiskey and the other with apple brandy. The spirits were to refresh himself and his sons and any thirsty Morgantonians who might care for a dram or two. Fate and his kin folks camped that night near Salem and went into town early the next morning. By mid-afternoon, some of the Lanes were becoming pretty obstreperous, and the chief of police told Fate that it appeared that he and his fellow officers might have to lock them up. Fate replied that the Lanes had the police greatly outnumbered and outgunned and asked them to get off the street for a short time. The police did, and Fate gathered his party together and left for home, thereby avoiding a battle that might have resulted in the untimely demise of the entire Morganton police force. Politically the Lanes were staunch Democrats, and their precinct, Silver Creek No. 2, always voted unaminously Democratic. This result was obtained when, on the eve of election day, all the Lane men old enough to bear arms would come down from the mountains and spend the night at the polling place. On election day, men coming to vote would find the polling place guarded by a platoon of Lanes, armed to the teeth, and only those known to be Democrats were permitted to vote. Fate could neither read nor write, but being a well-to-do man, he subscribed to three newspapers. His more literate wives read the 40 �news to him, and it is said that he never forgot an important news item. During the 19th century, the Lane clan ruled the southwestern part of Burke County as though it was their own tiny mountain kingdom, making their own rules of conduct. They had only contempt for those state laws that they disagreed with. Bigamy was not illegal to the clansmen provided that the parties to the relationship were agreeable. If a man was offended and responded with violence, this was the accepted norm. According to written and verbal history, no law enforcement officers ever came to Brindletown to arrest a Lane, although their illegal and scandalous conduct would have warranted such time and time again. In the 1930's a political speech writer coined the term "rugged individualism." He must have had Fate Lane in mind. 41 �Overmountain Men A while back the newspapers told the story of a celebration that took place in Massachusetts commemorating a skirmish that occurred on a bridge on April 19, 1775. The day is remembered as the beginning of a fratricidal war that ended in the freedom of the colonies from the rule of a tyrant. The end came at Yorktown, Virginia exactly eight years from the day the war began. It's fine to celebrate the start of the American Revolution, but I have often wondered why we people of the mountains of Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina, together with those in the Piedmont area directly to the south of the mountains, do not celebrate October 7 each year. This is the anniversary of the Battle of Kings Mountain, credited by many historians as being the turning point in the war. In 1976, many of the descendants of the men who fought in this battle, together with others interested in the history of our nation, marched down a route that a troop of fine light cavalry took to the South Carolina battlefield. Their journey took them from the Sycamore Shoals of the Watauga River down through the high Ap42 �palachians to the Catawba River Valley, and on south through Rutherford County into King's Mountain. Let's take a few minutes to put Kings Mountain in perspective. Early in September, 1780, the cause of freedom for the Colonies seemed doomed. A few weeks earlier, General Washington had written in his diary "Hope is now all but lost." His army was low on food, clothing, arms ammunition, men, and morale. Desertions were a common, almost daily occurence. The troops were paid with paper currency issued by the Continental Congress, and it "was not worth a continental." For those who wanted freedom, it was the nadir of the war. From a territorial standpoint, the war was fought in two parts: the first half in the North, and the second and most decisive phase was fought in the South. In the late summer of 1780, the Southern states were virtually controlled by the British and their Loyalist or Tory allies. The commanding general, Lord Cornwallis, had his headquarters in Charlotte. The principal ports, Savannah and Charleston, had fallen to his troops. The only opposition rested in small bands of Whigs fighting with hit-and-run tactics, unable to mount a sustained attack or even defend a town. Cornwallis had as his two principal subordinate officers Colonel Benastre Tarleton and 43 �Major Patrick Ferguson, both able and experienced military leaders. This story concerns only Ferguson, 36 years old at the time. Ferguson was the son of a Scottish lord and was commissioned in the Royal North British Dragoons when only fifteen. The young officer had fought with distinction in the British campaign in Flanders and Germany. In 1768, he was made a captain, and he helped put down a rebellion on St. Vincent Island, a British possession in the Caribbean, and was then recalled to England. Early in 1777, Ferguson was sent to the Colonies to aid in suppressing the King's rebellious subjects. Here, he served with distinction in the northern phase of the war at Brandywine, Egg Harbor, and Mommouth. In October, 1779, Ferguson was commisioned Major Commanding in charge of the Second Battalion of the Seventy-First Regiment. His outfit was better known as the Highland Light Infantry because many of his men were descendants of Scotch Highlanders. Ironically, a troop of Lowland Scots finally brought him down. Ferguson and his regiment, mostly natives of North and South Carolina, were posted at Gilbert Town, North Carolina in September, 1780. Around the middle of that month, he marched north to a point near Morganton, then turned west for some thirty miles before returning to his post. 44 �Somewhere along the line of march, Ferguson paroled a Whig prisoner captured earlier at the Battle of Cowpens. He instructed the prisoner to go over the mountains to the leaders of the Whig militia based in East Tennessee and Southwest Virginia to bear this message: "Either they lay down their arms or he would cross the mountains and hang the Whig leaders and lay waste the land with fire and sword." The parolee took this message directly to Colonel Isaac Shelby, commander of the militia in Sullivan County, Tennessee. Two days later, Shelby relayed the message to Colonel John Sevier of the Jonesboro, Tennessee militia. Colonels Shelby and Sevier dispatched a courier to Colonel William Campbell of nearby Washington County, Virginia. These three militia leaders, together with Colonel Charles McDowell of Quaker Meadows and Colonel Andrew Hampton of Rutherford County, held a meeting to decide upon immediate military strategy. This group of five colonels decided that half of their total militia forces would be mustered to fight Ferguson. The remainder of the men were left to preserve peace at home. On September 26, 1780, this band of "Over the Mountain Men," or "Buckwater Men," as Ferguson referred to them, left from Sycamore Shoals on the Watauga River. The avowed pur45 �pose of this group was to hunt down and destroy Major Patrick Ferguson and his Tory band. Their path led them through some of the most rugged terrain ever traversed by cavalry, the Southern Appalachian highlands. Crude trails called "traces" were followed through the primitive wilderness of the Yellow, the Roan, the Silver, and the Linville mountains. Two men deserted the second night on the trail while the group was camped between the Roan and Yellow Mountains. The two defectors hurried ahead to inform Ferguson of the Whigs' presence and purpose. This move had been anticipated by the militia leaders, so that day they divided into two bands. One group headed west, following the north fork of the Catawba River, and the other group followed Paddy's Creek to the Catawba River. The bands converged at Colonel McDowell's home, Quaker Meadows, on the banks of the Catawba River. Colonel Benjamin Cleveland, commander of the militia in the Surry/Stokes County area of North Carolina had been notified of the plan to battle Ferguson. His troops arrived at Quaker Meadows about the same time as the "Over the Mountain Men." On October 1, this larger militia resumed their search and pursuit of Ferguson. The two deserters had reached Ferguson at Gilbert Town on September 30, and they in46 �formed him of his peril. The British Commander immediately took two steps to ward off the impending attack by the militia: First, he dispatched two couriers to Cornwallis in Charlotte. Ferguson's urgent request was for "three or four hundred good soldiers, part dragoon," and gave his intended line of march to his destination, King's Mountain. Ferguson's second action was an attempt to recruit more Loyalists. He wrote a letter and had it posted along the route of his intended march. The letter went as follows: Denard's Ford, Broad River Tryon County, October I, 1780 Gentlemen: Unless you wish to be eat up by an inundation of barbarians, who have begun by murdering an unarmed son before the aged father, and afterwards lopped off his arms, and who by their shocking cruelties and irregularities give the best proof of their cowardice and want of discipline; I say, if you wish to be pinioned, robbed and murdered, and see your wives and daughters in four days, abused by the dregs of mankind-in short, if you wish or deserve to live, grasp your arms in a moment and run to camp. The Back Water men have crossed the mountain; McDowell, Hampton, Shelby and Cleveland are at their head, so that you know what you have to depend upon. If you choose to be degraded forever and ever be a set of Mongrels, say so at once, and let your women turn their backs upon you, and look out for real men to protect them. Pat. Ferguson, Major 7lst Regiment Having taken these means of getting reinforcements, Ferguson now marched directly south for a few miles, and then turned southeast. Crossing the South Carolina border east of Gaffney in Cherokee County, he pro47 �ceeded to his chosen position of the bald, rocky top of the low mountain, which was densely covered on all its sides by trees. Here he waited for reinforcements from his request to Cornwallis. Ferguson waited in vain for his messengers had been late in delivering his request to Cornwallis. After having been dispatched by Ferguson, the messengers spent the first night of their trip with a staunch Whig and pretended to believe in the cause of freedom. The messengers aroused the Whig's suspicions by leaving in a great hurry very early the next morning. He gathered a few friends to pursue Ferguson's messengers. When the messengers became aware that they were being followed, they hid out for a short while and finally reached Cornwallis in Charlotte on October 7, the day the battle began. Ferguson's dogged pursuers had taken a slightly longer route to King's Mountain. They had stayed to the west and then south of their quarry, keeping the waters of the Silver and Cane creeks between them to avoid possible ambush. On October 7, they reached the mountain and quickly surrounded it. Preparing for battle, each commander spoke to his troops. Colonel Campbell, immediately before leading his Virginians up the steep, wooded incline, is said to have yelled, "Here they are, my brave boys, shout like Hell and 48 �fight like devils." Then came the final order for all from Benjamin Cleveland, his Scottish claymore in hand, "Fresh prime your guns and every man go into battle resolving to fight until he dies." Thus, a force of slightly more than 900 men began climbing the steep sides of the mountain, darting from tree to tree, all the time screaming like madmen. Ferguson's troops, by best estimates, numbered about 1,100 men. The Loyalist forces, exposed on the summit, were easy targets for the backwoods marksmen, who themselves had good cover in the trees. At the summit the fighting was fierce, hand-tohand, but gradually the tide turned for the Whigs. In desperation, Ferguson, on horseback, accompanied by two of his officers, tried to break through the tightening circle. Ferguson was mortally wounded in his attempt, and he died immediately after falling from his mount. The Tories now attempted to surrender, one by one, by tying white cloths to their gun barrels. The meaning of their sign was ignored by the Whigs either because they did not understand the intent of the Tories or they were obsessed by hatred. Nevertheless, the slaughter continued for a time before hostilities ceased. The entire battle lasted less than one hour. Major Patrick Ferguson died a hero's death. Two horses had been shot from under him and 49 �his sword was broken in the battle. His body, pitted with eight bullet holes, was wrapped in a beef hide and buried on the mountain. The killing did not end on the battlefield. Some forty Tory prisoners were given summary trials by their captors and sentenced to hang at Biggerstaffs farm above Gilbert Town as the mountain men started for home. Nine were hanged before the fires of vengeance cooled, and the rest were spared. Weeks after the battle, British military leaders in the South were still at a loss as to where this fierce and formidable army had come from. George Washington did not know of this army's existence or purpose until after the battle of King's Mountain had been fought. The war was to go on until April 19, 1783. Beseiged at Yorktown and prevented from escaping by sea by the French fleet, Cornwallis delivered his sword to George Washington, thus ending the Patriots long struggle for freedom. 50 �The Generation Gap We hear so much about the generation gap that I have gone back just one generation to try to depict the life and times of that earlier era. Let's look back and see what a typical mediumsized town was like in 1905. Most growing towns of this period had a water system, telephones, electricity, town government, and a fire department of sorts. The fire department probably consisted of two reel teams with voluntary firemen who could man those outfits upon call. The reels were handoperated with two big wagon wheels upon which was wound a hose that would attach to the few water hydrants around the business sections of town. Inside plumbing was just becoming popular for those who could afford it, although the majority of homes still used the outside privy. Many thought it unsanitary to move the privy inside the house and only had a cold water spigot in the kitchen which invaribly froze every winter. Housing costs then were unbelievable when compared with today's soaring prices. My father's house was built during this time and cost a total of $2,300. It was a two-story frame 51 �52 �53 �house consisting of eight rooms. Every room had a fireplace in it except the kitchen, which housed a Majestic wood stove where all the cooking was done. Public schools had only recently been started, and it was not unusual for clas~es to be held in the Town Hall or in local churches. In addition to the public schools, there were a number of private schools which were held in the homes of the teachers. Transportation was by foot, horseback, buggy, or wagon. Livery stables, where horses would be boarded or rented, were profitable businesses. Horse and mule traders were the equivalent of car salesmen today and had horse lots, barns, and blacksmith shops within the town limits. All country people and most town folks had a cow, chickens, and a pig in their back yard. There were no refrigerators, so meat in the summertime had to be consumed before it spoiled. Fall was hog killing time when the meat was processed into cured hams, liver mush, souse meat, bacon, fat back, and spare ribs. Vegetable gardens were essential, and everyone tried to can and preserve enough during the summer to last through the winter. The centers of activity at that time were the Town Hall, Court House, and Depot. Folks would gather at the Depot to watch the trains run and the drummers get off and on. Hacks 54 �representing the different boarding houses and hotels met each train. The barrooms, which were on almost every corner and in between, were really crowded during court week. Everybody came to town then in their wagons, buggies, and on foot, and camped out on vacant lots. There, they would swap horses, drink, sing, drink, tell tales, drink, and, in general, catch up on all the news and gossip. Things that were commonplace then are now either gone for good or fast disappearing from the streets and stores. Typical things were barefoot boys, hound dogs, tobacco juice, muddy streets, buggy whips, pickle and cracker barrels, horse collars, corsets, hat pins, watering troughs, hitching posts, horse manure on the streets, grindstones, washboards, and high button shoes. In just one generation, we have gone from the Wright's flight at Kitty Hawk to a man on the moon; from horse and buggy to sport cars and motor bikes; from muddy roads and ferries to super highways and jumbo jets; from a weekly, two-page newspaper to instant news on television; from a water wheel on the creek to atomic power. Does anyone want to go back? 55 �Sun to Sun The old addage, "A man works from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done" was never more true than when applied to the country women of yesteryear. Today, when "store bought" items are the rule rather than the exception, when we rely on newspapers, radio, and television for news, and when education is deemed a right, and not a privilege for the moneyed few, it is difficult to recall the lifestyle of our country people not so very long ago. Let's look back one hundred years or so and see what a typical day was like for a country woman. We'll just see what Ma's doing while Pa is breaking his back sitting on a log in the woods all day, waiting for a chance deer or turkey to wander by. First, Ma gets up before daylight to stir up the fire, and puts away the spinning wheel or sewing she worked with 'til late the night before. Next, she goes to the smoke house to cut a slab of bacon off the side meat for breakfast for her man and eleven children. On the way back to the house she 'totes in a load of wood for the fire and puts the pots and pans on the hearth to heat while she goes to the spring for a bucket of water. When she gets back, it's time to wake 56 �the old man who gets up grumbling about his back and complaining of these dang females who wake a man in the middle of the night. While Ma stirs up some vittles, changes the baby, wakes and dresses the other children, reminds Pa to wash his face and feed the mule, she chunks the fire, empties the slop jars and chamber pots, reminds Billy to wash his ears, finds a hair ribbon for Susie, and lines up the caps for the boys and bonnets for the girls. All this is done while the bacon is sizzling. It is now time to start the day's work. She remembers that this is wash day and soap must be made, peach tree bark gathered to "sweeten" the clothes, butter to churn, the cow to feed and milk, eggs to gather, garden patch to hoe and weed, and try to get Pa to string a new clothes line. While she's athinkin' of the day's work to come, she's stopped two fights among the young'uns, stirred up a dozen eggs, whipped up a batch of buckwheat batter, raked some ashes aside for the lye to make soap, baked some cornpone for Pa' s six houn' dogs, and shelled fourteen ears of corn for the chickens. Now Pa's back from the barn, complainin' that somebody done moved the string he had saved for the clothesline. Ma reaches over and slaps Billy across the rump, for she saw him use that string on his kite. By now it's might-nigh daylight, and while 57 �Ma washes the dishes, sweeps off the hearth, carries out the ashes, makes up the beds and runs the "brood" out of the house for some fresh air, Pais oilin' his rifle so's he can go rabbit huntin'. The Civil War placed many more demands on country women. We have heard little about the hundreds of thousands of plain, ordinary, country women who stayed at home and performed all the necessary chores previously done by their husbands in addition to their own housework. According to all accounts, there just weren't enough daylight hours to get all the chores done, so after the children were put to bed, she would go out into the fields and plow the crops by moonlight, or kill the hogs, or cut firewood. She did all these things in addition to encouraging her husband and sons in the army. Supplies and clothing were provided by these country women. Bandages for the wounded were made at home, and if nursing skills were needed, it was the women who provided them. One might think that the slaves could perform these functions, yet surprisingly more than 75 per cent of the white southerners had no slaves at all. Those who had as many as 20 slaves were exempt from conscription into military service. The same applied to wealthy Northerners who could hire someone to serve their enlistments. As a result, it was the poor farmers 58 �and tradesmen who served as soldiers in the Civil War. Unquestionably, the monuments on every town square pay tribute to the soldiers who served the Confederacy. By far, the greater sacrifice was by the women who were left at home. In all fairness, alongside the man with the gun should be a woman in her bonnet and shawl, with a plow at one hand, a spinning wheel at the other, and a cradle rocking at her feet. 59 �Buckeyes for Rumatiz Hill folks pay a lot more attention to the little things and happenings in their lives than city folks. They have learned over the years from their parents and their own observations that the little "signs" can save a lot of grief, maybe even one's life. Many signs and superstitions were brought over from the old country, but a lot were incubated right here in the Carolina foothills. Farming was a necessary part of livelihood, and an early frost, late spring, rain, snow, or drought had much to do with the success or failure of their crops. With no weather forecasts, they had to depend on signs which indicated when to plant, when to harvest, when cold weather was coming etc. The following are some of the more common signs that a lot of folks believe in to this day. Weather Signs A ring around the moon means dry weather. The number of stars within the ring indicates the number of days before rain. It won't rain under a new moon until the point tilts down. If a new moon falls on Saturday, look for twenty days of bad weather. 60 �The first frost comes three months after the first katydid is heard. The amount of mast (acorns and nuts) will tell whether to expect a hard or a mild winter. Thickness of corn husks or animal fur and the width of a caterpillar's stripe denote the severity of the coming winter. If the fire sputters or fizzles, look out for bad weather. There will be as many snows in winter as there were fogs in August. When duck, geese, and guineas make a fuss, it's a sign of a storm. Sky red in the morning- a sailor's warning. Sky red at night - a sailor's delight. Folks who can see Grandfather Mountain say he's a pretty good weather prophet. If he has his hat on (a cloud around the peak), look out for bad weather. If he's smiling (clear), you can expect ten days of good weather. Social and Miscellaneous Signs and Superstitions A buckeye carried in the hip-pocket wards off rheumatism. If you drop your fork on the floor, your love life is in trouble. Sweeping under the feet of a girl when she's sitting down will guarantee she will be an old maid. A thunderstorm will sour milk. When a fire in the fireplace roars up the chimney, there will be a fuss in the family. If your wedding day is windy, it's a sign of good luck. If your second toe is bigger than your "big" toe, you'll be the boss in your family. 61 �If you sneeze before breakfast, you'll have company that day. If a fisherman cusses, fish will not bite. Corn does best planted when the oak leaves are the size of squirrel ears. Do you avoid walking under ladders, go in one door and out another, sit against the planks in a card game, "stamp" every white horse or mule you see, go around the same side of a tree or post when walking with a companion? If you do, welcome to the club "old-timer." 62 �Sayin's and Meanin's I have discovered that when I leave the mountains, I have difficulty getting others to understand what I am trying to say ... particularly in the North. Even when I spell it out, they ask me to repeat it. The fact is that they just don't know what good, old, pure English is. There is some disagreement among scholars regarding the origin of mountain dialect. I am inclined to believe that the people of the Southern Appalachians have retained much of the Old Country speech which was handed down to them in its purest form by their ancestors from olde England. There is too much evidence of the Elizabethean era to ignore, although some expressions are obviously contemporary with Daniel Boone times. The following are some of the more common words and expressions used in our section of the country: Air- Frequently used for are or is. "He air a good boy." Agin- When. "Hit'll be late agin I git through." Aim- Plan. "I aim to finish plowing 'fore dark." Am- Used to press clothes. "My am got too hot." Bile - Boil. "Hit looks as iffin this here pot will never bile." Bar- Bear. "Ole Nim Grey wuz the best bar hunter around." Cheer- A piece of furniture. "Draw up a cheer and set." Clum- Past tense of climb. "He clum that tree like a squirrel." Crick- Creek. "I fell offen the foot log, smack dab in the crick." Far- Fire. 63 �Fit- Fight. "I gotta help them Forest Rangers fit the far." Fotch - Past tense of fetch. "Fetch me that jug!" "I fotch one yestiddy." Fur piece- Long distance. "It's a fur piece to town." Gully washer- Very hard rain. Holpe- Help. "You don't holpe me, I'll tell your Pa." Kivered- Covered. ''I'm plumb kivered up with work." Leave- Let. "You better leave me be." Mought- Might. "It's mought nigh dinner time." Nigh - Near or almost. Quair- Strange or teched. "Ain't he jest a leetle quair?" Ruint- Spoiled. "The pot tamed over and ruint my beans." Snuck- Past tense of sneak. "He snuck in the barn." Seed- Past tense of see. "I seed you when you done it." Shet- Close. "Shet the door." Taters - Potatoes. Vittles- Food. "Weren't for taters and 'lasses, wouldn't be no vittles. Warnets- Walnuts. Yander - Yonder. "He taken sick" - To become ill. "Get out" - Busy as all get out. "Weak as pond water"- A sorry drink or weak sermon. "I'll learn him" - A threat of violence. "I ain't losing no sleep" - I'm not worried. "Light and set" - Get off your horse and stay a while. "How be ye?" - How are you? "A faultin' woman"- One who nags constantly. "Git or gitten for get" -"Hits gitten ready fer to snow." 64 �Snake'ing the Kivers Time moves so rapidly, and customs have changed so drastically in the past century, that many people don't even recognize the names of essential items that were commonplace to their ancestors. A few of the words have been deleted from modern dictionaries because of disuse. Some of the tools used in construction of the early homes were the adz, froe, auger, and broadaxe. Singletree, hame, backstrap, crupper, or hoke were common names to those fortunate enough to have horses, mules, or oxen. In the house was the indispensible fly brush, trundlebed, loom, flax wheel, bellows, anvil, and maul. Some of the earliest homes didn't have floors, but were built on the ground with pine needles, rushes, or just the bare earth. Later homes had puncheon floors, which were split logs with the flat side turned up. Poisonous snakes were always a problem for the early settlers. Their log or pole cabins were generally crude affairs with cracks large enough to see daylight on all sides, and snakes could slip in most any place. It became essential for cabin dwellers to "snake" the covers before retiring for bed. This practice involved removing all the bedclothes from the beds and shaking 65 �thoroughly before climbing in for the night. Early roads in the mountain areas were rough and barely passable. This attributed to the good relationships between neighbors of the region. As one old-timer once said, "The few inhabitants were mostly good because the region was so rough and the roads were so bad that the devil could hardly get through." Before the county took over the responsibility, the first road systems in the area were kept up by the local men. All males between the ages of 21 and 45 who lived along a section or road were required to donate their labor for several days each year toward keeping the dirt roads passable. They would meet at designated places with their shovels, mattocks, and other tools to fill up the pot holes, open ditches, and grub stumps from the trails. There were no doctors in the early days and very few midwives or "granny-women" to care for expectant mothers, so everyone learned to makedo with what they had. One custom that was quite prevalent was to "snuff' the wife at birthing time. That was done by putting a pinch of strong snuff in each nostril which would cause violent sneezing and aid in the delivery of the child. The first settlers in a region ate "high on the hog," as we say down South, since wild game was plentiful and the deer, bear, turkey, etc. provided the main meat rations needed without 66 �much effort. It was not unusual for a good hunter to kill as many as two hundred deer and one hundred bear in a normal life span. However, as the population increased, the supply of game decreased to such an extent that settlers had to resort to smaller animals for food. Eventually, it became very difficult to kill enough rabbits, squirrels, and. other small game to feed the large families of that day, so pigs and other livestock replaced the deer for meat. During this transitional period from wild game to domesticated animals, folks lived pretty hard, learning to eat most anything that moved. Animals that were formerly spurned for food such as turtles, frogs, and possums found their way into the pots of the hungry population. Most everyone had a spring house which consisted of a little room built around and over the spring with a trough for the cold water to run through. In this trough were placed crocks of milk, butter, fruits, and vegetables to keep cool. An apple house or "tater hole" was necessary to keep these foods through the winter. Hams and meats were cured and stored in smoke houses. In the early days, cows, pigs, chickens, and turkeys were allowed to run loose and feed on the native mast of the forests and fields. Western ranchers branded their cattle, but in the mountains the livestock generally had their ears notched a certain way to distinguish one 67 �man's stock from another. Some questionable characters would cut the whole ear off for a distinguishing mark. Occasionally, feuds were started by arguments and suspicions about whose calf was whose. Education was a sort of hit or miss affair. A community was considered lucky if it could secure the services of a teacher who had attended one or two years of college. Classes were first held in homes or churches until little one-room log school houses were built. These school houses generally didn't have fireplaces or any other means of heat, so classes were held only for three months during the summer. In some sections a two-week "writing'' school would be held where, for a small fee, children and adults would be taught to write. Many of the old documents were written with beautiful penmanship, but had very poor spelling and composition. Stores were few and far between, so "peddlers" roamed the sparsely settled countryside with huge packs on their backs filled with spices, scissors, knives, ribbon, etc. They were always welcomed, fed, and entertained because of the news they brought from other parts of the country. Even though newspapers were printed from the earliest days, there were no reliable delivery methods in the Hill Country until a national system of mail delivery was established. Deliveries then were by horseback, and few of 68 �the inhabitants could afford to buy papers, even if they were able to read. Today's good roads, electricity, schools, and tourism have made a big change in the foothills. Despite all these changes, the people still retain their simplicity and self-reliance that enabled them to prosper in earlier days. 69 �House Raisings and Parlors Constructing a home in early mountain times was a major undertaking. It took the efforts of an entire family and help from generous neighbors to build even the most simple log house. Generally, when a community was established, they would have a "house raising" for each family. Everyone would gather from miles around to help "raise" the house. Clearing the land was the first step taken when building a house. This served a dual purpose since land was needed for both a house and an area where crops could be planted, and the timber was used to cut logs for the house. The logs that formed the houses were about eight inches thick, 14 to 24 inches wide, and usually 20 to 24 feet long. Dovetailed joints were used to put the logs together. Fourteen inch by fourteen inch plates held in place by wooden hickory pegs one-and-one-half to two inches in diameter secured the dovetailed joints at the top. The chimneys and fireplaces were constructed of native stone. Red or white clay was used to hold together the stones. Fireplaces were usually five to seven feet wide and four to five feet high. This gave enough room for the 70 �Preserved log cabin heating and cooking at the same time. The early houses had no windows, only holes cut the front and back with shutters to cover them. There were no locks of any kind on the doors. Wooden latches operated by strings which could be pulled in at night were the only method of securing the house. Most log houses had only a kitchen and master bedroom for adults downstairs and a loft upstairs for the children. Some folks had a "parlor," used only when special company or the parson paid a visit. Neighbors and family were entertained in the master bedroom or kitchen by the huge fireplace. Visitors were always welcomed by the mountain people as their social gatherings were limited to "house raisings," 71 �"corn shuckings," and "quilting bees" in the winters, and the summers were devoted to farming tasks. 72 �Much Obliged Mountain folks have always been the most polite group of people I have ever known. Unless you know their habits and customs, you would probably think just the opposite. For instance, the man would walk ahead of his wife, sometimes quite a distance, and let her carry the groceries or other packages. In our ignorance we might think that was the height of rudeness, yet his reasons for doing so make him quite chivalrous. He goes ahead to ward off danger to his family. There might have been a hostile Indian, bear, mountain lion, or rattlesnake just around the corner. Give a family a gift, and you'll receive a ··much obliged," and a gift in return. They refuse to be "beholden" to anyone and are very proud and self-sufficient. Even a visit will get a jar of preserves, flowers, canned goods or other tokens of appreciation. The worst community crime is to steal or tattle on your neighbor. I've heard people criticized more for stealing than for killing. The fact is that in the early days stealing was about the same as murder. When one has worked and slaved for a bare existence and some of that was stolen, a terrible hardship was caused. Since 73 �your neighbors were all in the same circumstances, if you borrowed from them, two families would go hungry instead of one. In the Old West you could get hanged for stealing a horse. Here, one penalty was to have your ear notched or cut off so the whole world could tell you were a thief. I don't know if this was a legal penalty, but I do know that it was a custom. Except for the young "dare devils," most mountain folk obey all the rules of the road when driving or walking. They will pull over to let you pass. If you have car trouble, they will invariably stop to help. Day or night they are willing to help a neighbor or stranger in trouble. This trait is part of the mountain "code" handed down from earlier days when a community's motto was "one for all and all for one" or "you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours." I can remember when there would be only one threshing machine in a whole community. When the small grain was ripe, all the men in the neighborhood would gather on each man's farm in turn. The women folks would gather also to cook a "rip snortin" good meal for the men folks. Earlier, the same cooperation was seen in "house raisings." Mter a man had cut his logs for a new house, his neighbors would help to build or "raise" the logs for his home. "Quilting bees," corn shuckings, or sickness 74 �of any kind would invariably bring your neighbors over to help out. Those were the days when the "latch string" was always out. No one locked a door since there was no need to fear your neighbors. Mountain men are very persistent lovers. They select the gal they want and won't take "no" for an answer. They hold their women in high esteem and will protect their good names with their fists or guns if necessary. Mountain 'folks are also very particular about appearances. Should you offer a lone woman a ride home, she will ride in the back seat, even if you know her well. They don't take chances of being "talked about." Sometimes during the courtship, "the corn is planted before the fence is built." In most instances the couple marry either willingly or at the business end of a shortgun. Occasionally, however, the girl decides that she doesn't like her suitor enough for marriage. In this case the offspring is known as a "woods colt." Most are very frank about this and there is seldom any stigma attached to the child or mother. This group of mountain manners, along with many others, will not be found in any formal book of etiquette. They are merely part of the code that has been accepted and adhered to through the years by its people. 75 �Coon Huntin' People the world over are mighty prideful of their huntin' dogs. Mountain folks in North Carolina are no exception. There is just not much of anything a mountain man had "druther" do than take his prized coon dogs huntin'. Just imagine a cold, clear, fall night, with the moon a'shinin', a light frost in the makin', when the persimmons are good and ripe, a pack of restless dogs a 'whining and straining at the leash', your wife busy packing a few "vittles" to nibble on the way. Now coons and foxes are about the smartest of the wild animals, and there's always an argument between two groups of hunters as to which is the best huntin'. Personally, I prefer coon to fox. There's more excitement. A fox covers so much territory that you can't follow the hounds like you can coon huntin'. Listening to a good coon race can be as exciting as a modern day NASCAR Race with Petty, Foyt, and Johnson all battling for first place. Each man knows his own dogs' voices and can even tell by the tone how close he's getting to the quarry. I've seen and heard some mighty good stories on these trips, and some lies and 76 �arguments too. To accuse another man's dog of lyin' (that is, barking at the moon instead of the coon), is a fightin' excuse. People have to be mighty careful when talking of the other fellow's best friend. One of the best old huntin' stories I've heard contains a moral that is applicable today. It concerns three men: Misters A ·and B and Colonel C. It seems A and B had a serious "fallin' out" over a piece of worthless land and were not on speaking terms at all. Folks git mighty "riled" up over their land or dogs. Well, Mr. A went coon hun tin' one night and "unbeknoingest" to him, the family pet by the name of Trip had followed the other coon dogs to the woods. Every time the pack would hit a hot trail, little Trip would get excited and run around and around in circles out of pure exuberance. This, of course, got the pack so confused that they would lose the trail. Mr. A called and called "Here Trip! Come on Tripi That's a good pup! Here! Here!" until he was plumb hoarse. At long last, with his patience pretty exhausted, and his hunt ruin't, Mr. A picked up a pine knot, threw it at the little dog, and unluckily killed him dead as a door nail. Mr. A just sat there looking at Trip and cried, knowing how the children would feel about their pet, until finally a diabolical scheme was hatched in his vindictive mind. Little Trip was just the size of 77 �a nice plump possum, so why not dress him and send him to his mortal enemy, Mr. B. This would serve two purposes. The first was to get even with Mr. B. The second was that he could tell the kids that Trip had run away. So that's what he did. Well, it so happened that Mr. B was off on a journey, and Mrs. B didn't want to cook possum for just one person, so she sent it to Colonel C with her compliments. I imagine you've guessed by now what happened. Colonel C invited Mr. A to dinner. What did they have? Little dog Trip, all fixed up with salt, pork, sweet 'taters, and all the trimmings! After the meal, Mr. A rared back, picking his teeth, and complimented the good Colonel on a delicious meal. "By the way, Colonel, that's the best possum I've et in many a day. Where'd you catch him?" When Colonel C informed him of the hospitality of neighbor B, Mr. A turned pale, then green, excused himself hurriedly, ran out the back door, grabbed hold of a sapling tree and started praying, not to the Lord, but to Trip. He said, "Dear Trip, I called you once, twice, and even ten times, and you wouldn't come! Now I call you just once more." And Trip finally came. 78 �The Valley's First Industry This is not a story of heroes or villians. It is a short tale of a way of life for thousands of mountain people in earlier times. The first settlers established their homesteads where game was most plentiful, which was generally in the mountain regions. By the time most of the game was depleted, other farmers had already occupied the rich, level, bottom land which left mountain folks with poor, steep, rocky marginal land that a goat could hardly survive on. Roads were so bad that it was nearly impossible for a poor mountain farmer to get what little corn he could grow to market. A natural process evolved that enabled him to make a living by grinding his corn into meal, running it through a homemade still, and selling the resulting product as corn likker. To make good corn whiskey, one had to sprout some of the corn until it was just right before grinding. This was done by placing some of the corn in a sack and keeping it sprinkled with water. Mter the corn was sprouted, it would be ground in a coffee mill which would take many hours. This meal would then be poured into "still beer," which was similar to 79 �cooked corn mush. In three or four days this would ferment into a mash that would be run through a copper distillery. Most moonshine businesses began as a small family operation that produced only ten to twenty gallons of moonshine per day after weeks of preparation. Later on, as business became more profitable, everyone began making it in larger quantities. Competition was keen since there was a good profit in moonshine; that is, if you didn't get caught. Some family feuds were started over the business. As blockading operations became big business, making and delivering moonshine became a game-a fierce competitive game between the local and Federal officers and blockaders. Special cars were equipped to haul the liquor. Most of the blockaders used Ford cars with a Cadillac motor installed and extra springs on the back. A car thus equipped could haul 25 cases of liquor at a time. The driver's duty was to outrun and outguess their adversaries. The adversaries, federal agents most often referred to as Revenooers, were given the difficult task of catching the culprit at his still. A 30-year veteran federal agent once said that in all his years of chasing blockaders, he had never had his pistol out of his holster. He also said that the most dangerous part of his job was running 80 �into barbed wire fences while trying to catch a man at his still. Men caught making moonshine seldom had any animosity towards the federal agents. They knew that the agent was just doing his job and that he had just "outsmarted" them. Enforcement of bootlegging laws was largely left up to local sheriffs during Prohibition. This posed a quite a sensitive and peculiar problem for local law enforcers since the blockaders were quite often friends and neighbors of the sheriff and his deputies, and they realized that they were just trying to make a living for their families. There was also the matter of politics. Sheriffs were elected by popular vote, and in times past there were so many people involved in the moonshine business that they had quite an impact at election time. In the first place, many voters wanted to have a convenient source of supply for their own benefit. Then there was the attitude shared by many that voiced, "We don't want nobody from Washington telling us what we can or can't do." What generally happened was that the blockaders were allowed to operate rather freely until they were reported by some informer. The law then had to act, one way or the other. Most of the operators had at least one friend among the deputies who would try to get word to them that their still had been reported. 81 �82 �83 �Sometimes a deputy would tell his friend, "I hear you've been farming in the woods." That was warning enough for the blockader to move his still immediately. Informers came in both sexes and for many different reasons. Jealousy was one reason: "If my still got cut down, I'd see that John's still was caught also." Sometimes a wife, whose husband was drinking too much, would find out where it was coming from and report it to the sheriff. Occasionally, hunters would run across a still, and if they were ardent drys, they would report the location. Most of the old-timers knew who the moonshiners were and where they were operating. If they needed to replenish their likker supply, they would go to the nearest blockader and say something like this: ''Me and Joe and Paul would like to coon hunt a little tonight. Do you know where the best place is? If we see anything, we won't tell." One coon hunter wasn't quite so wise to the ways of the mountains. He and his companions ran across a still one night, and he made the mistake of telling it around town. A friendly deputy told the operator about it, and the next time that group went "a coon huntin' " and came back to where they had parked their car, they found nothing but a piece of junk. Blackmail became a lucrative venture for some law enforcement officials. It seems that in 84 �those days retailers of contraband were required to pay some member of the sheriffs department an "insurance" fee. This fee was paid to assure the operator of a still that their establishment wouldn't be raided before sufficient warning was given. Occasionally, a deputy would become greedy and demand additional "insurance" payments. One operator's refusal to pay a double fee led to the downfall and end to Russell Mull's moonshine making. His was one of the most colorful careers in the business. Mull was the owner of a small country store and a chicken farm. These two businesses enabled him to buy grain, sugar, jars, and bottles used in the manufacture and sale of whiskey. His operation was unusual because of the quality he exercised in the manufacture of his whiskey and the honesty with which he dealt with his customers. Mull's business was so profitable that he sent out calendars to his customers at Christmas. He took so much pride in the quality of his product that he had labels printed to paste on the pint bottles. To get a pint of Mull's moonshine, one had only to drive back of the house, toot the car horn, tell who you were, and receive the merchandise through the bedroom window. After refusing to pay a local deputy more "insurance," Mull's premises were raided and his moonshine confiscated. Mull was tried 85 �Label from Russell Mull's moonshine 86 �before a federal judge where some the area's most prominent citizens testified to the good character of Russell Mull and his role as an outstanding community member. Following the trial, Mull disposed of all his whiskey except for two kegs which he buried in his garden. From that day until he died, Russell Mull never sold another pint. He joined the church, attended regularly, and became one of the largest contributors to the Baptist church near his home. Years Jater while discussing the "good old days," I asked Russ if he knew of anyone who sold good stuff like he used to handle, and the answer was "NOI" It was then that he told me about the kegs. Finally, he dug the kegs up and brought me a jar as a gift. In my opinion, there's nothing in the ABC store that could touch it. 87 �Kickapoo Medicine Co. In the 1800s, traveling medicine shows constituted one of the most popular and rewarding (to promoters) entertainments to be seen throughout the country. The shows probably had their beginnings with loquacious peddlers who would hawk their homemade remedies from their backpacks or wagons. Since most of the so called "patent" medicines could be prepared the night before using spring water, sugar, a little alcohol, and flavoring, the peddlers made much more profit from these items than from goods they had to buy and resell. The profit potential was so great that enterprising merchants gradually increased the entertainment features to attract crowds, until some actually had as many as two or three hundred actors in different shows. One of the largest of its kind was the Kickapoo Indian Medicine Company which employed 300 Indians, none of them Kickapoos, from Indian agents and traveled by train instead of wagons. One testimonial that they used was as follows: "I have been troubled for years with a disease that baffled the doctors. I finally bought 88 �and took one 25-cent box of Kickapoo Indian Worm Killer, and soon enough, to my great astonishment, I passed a tapeworm measuring, head and all, a full fifty feet." In 1838, P. T. Barnum went into the medicine show business with a German named Proler. They traveled in a stylish wagon promoting what they called "Genuine Bear Grease" which promised to cover a bald head with beautiful, glossy, curly hair. One of the early "tent shows" that came to the area regularly was owned by Jack King who set up on vacant lots. After the first few performances, however, my parents declared this show "off limits" because their jokes were not exactly of the "parlor" variety, and the actresses showed a little more skin than little boys were supposed to see. If I remember correctly, King himself acted as the comedian. He called himself "Freckles," sported a red wig, snaggled teeth, and had large freckles painted on his face. He often encouraged local talent to perform when the show held its amateur nights. Before Hollywood took over the entertainment field, the Redpath Chautauqua had a regular circuit in this area. Their tents were erected on old ball park grounds where they put on stage shows, musicals, lectures, and other uplifting performances. The stage show I remember best was a com89 �edy called "Sweet Clover." This was a play in which the star took a pleasure trip to South America on a ship named Sweet Clover only to discover that the vessel hauled fertilizer along with the passengers. When one of the actors pronounced the name of the ship, you could actually smell the odor, and for weeks afterwards little boys would go around town holding their noses and hollering, "Sweet Clover." Watching television commercials today makes one wonder if anything has changed except for the medium of communication. Instead of catarrh, flux, consumption, and the vapors, we now have "tired blood." If you believe what they tell us, all it takes to put the doctors out of business is a little Sine-Aid, Geritol, Fern-Iron, Hadacol, and Lydia E. Pinkam's Pink Pills for Pale People. 90 �Brown Mountain Spooks "An orange colored light, looking like a ball of fire, seemed to come straight up from the trees on the distant mountain top. It grew bigger and brighter, flickered for three or four seconds, then went down again, disappearing in the tree tops." (The State). The ·above is a description of these mysterious lights that seems to be average. If three different persons were to see the lights at the same time, you might get three different descriptions: one might say the light was orange; one, green; and the other, blue. Number one says it came up, drifted to the left and went out; number two says to the right; and number three might say it went straight up. If there was a fourth person, he might say he couldn't see them at all. My first sight of the "spooks" was in 1925 when my school class went to the top of Gingercake Mountain for a combination picnic and "light looking." It was so difficult to point out the correct area in which to look at night that I don't believe more than half the class saw anything except each other. Over the years since that trip, I have heard many stories attempting to explain the "lights," but none are very con91 �vincing. Brown Mountain is located in Burke County, about 20 miles north of Morganton, North Carolina off North Carolina Highway 181, and about eight miles southeast of Gingercake Mountain at Jonas Ridge. It's a long, straightbacked ridge about 3,500 feet in elevation with numerous outcroppings of huge, brown and grey colored rock formations. As a child, I had heard that the National Geographic Society, in cooperation with some federal government agency had studied these lights without finding any satisfactory solution -at least to the local people. They seemed to believe that they were a reflection or refraction from railroad train lights in the neighboring county, but then the old-timers recalled that in 1916 during the "Big Flood," all bridges were washed out, no trains running, and still the lights could be seen. In 1913, the Charlotte Observer had an account of the "spooks" with no apparent solution. I read one story, I believe, in the WinstonSalem ] ournal, about several men who were investigating the lights from the top of Brown Mountain itself when suddenly the "light" appeared, and they all fell to the ground unconscious. This story I find hard to believe. My guess is that the falling down and resultant stupor was caused by the illicit products of a nearby still instead of any act of nature. 92 �A local reputable insurance salesman, and so far as I know, not addicted to tall tales or moonshine, gives the following account of his experiences: Several other men and I took a jeep to the top of Brown Mountain in 1963 just to see if we could substantiate these lights. After waiting in the pitch darkness for a long time until we were about to give up and go home, suddenly from nowhere, and from no apparent source, we could see each other in the dark, and even distinguish our finger nails in this ghostly light. It lasted perhaps five to ten seconds, and we were in the dark again. I don't know what it was, but I do know it was." Over the years there have been numerous efforts to capitalize on the "lights" by constructing towers, seats, or parking facilities and charging an admission fee. None of them have been successful, for the lights can be seen from so many vantage points. The Blue Ridge Parkway, Linville Mountain, Blowing Rock, and many other places provide excellent locations to view the phenomena. 93 �The Ice Man One of my heroes as a child was the neighborhood ice man. I used to watch for that guy in the summer like I did for Santa Claus in the winter. I suppose my supreme ambition, however, was to remain a little boy forever. Growing up was a disaster which I still resent. It was so wonderful just to blink an eye and become captain of a pirate ship on the Spanish Main, swinging my cutlass in one hand and pistol in the other. Or I could straddle a stick and ride my bucking bronco through the cow pasture on to the wide western plains. I'm sure that I lassoed more longhorns, branded more calves, and shot more Indians and outlaws than John Wayne ever did in his prime. Seeing a wild grapevine hanging from a tree transformed me immediately into Tarzan, swinging from limb to limb. No matter that the vine invariably broke, dumping me into a bunch of poison oak and honeysuckle, it was worth it. On a hot, dusty day in August when the bell on the ice wagon signaled its arrival, every kid in the neighborhood would try to be first to get the "snow" that the ice man made sawing on his block of ice. If you were first and lucky, you 94 �might even get a few slivers of ice from the wagon bed. In those days everyone had an icebox since there was no such thing as an electric refrigerator in these parts. Those boxes were built quite like refrigerators today except the upper section was designed to hold a 75- or 100-pound block of ice. Each household was supplied a square cardboard poster with a small window in the bottom. On the back was a circular cardboard "wheel" that could be turned, exposing through the window the number of pounds of ice desired. The bell on the wagon was to alert the housewife to post her sign. Books of tickets were available at the ice house or from the deliveryman good for 10, 15, 25, 50 or 75 pounds. The ice wagon had a roof over the top to keep out the sun, but was open at the back with a wide step. The horse pulling the wagon was trained to stop at each house along the street. When the iceman saw a sign that read 25 pounds, he would pick up his saw and measure the correct size of the big block, and that's when the fun began. As he pulled that long, coarse saw across the ice, "ice dust" or "snow" would squirt out from both sides while the neighborhood kids were drooling back of the wagon for a chance to scoop up a handful. The deliveryman wore a leather or rubber 95 �apron with an extra piece to throw across his shoulder. After the ice was cut to size, he would pick it up with his tongs, throw it on his shoulder, and carry it off as it if were as light as a feather. One of my chores at home was to empty the pan from under the ice box each day as the ice melted into water. If I forgot it, which was not infrequently, the pan would overflow all over the pantry floor, and the mop I had to get. This happened so often that my father finally drilled a hole in the floor, put a funnel in the hole so the water just dripped out into the basement. Most every Saturday, in very hot weather, we would order extra ice to made ice cream in one of those old-fashioned, hand-cranked freezers. I sure hated to turn the handle, but I didn't mind eating the finished product. 96 �Victorian Foibles Remember the automobile tail fins of a few years ago? I have often wondered if anyone considered those useless, ridiculous, monstrosities attractive. I'm inclined to believe that some practical joker was just trying to discover how far we idiot consumers would go before rebelling. Yet, ours is not the only generation that has been made ridiculous by designers of fashion and custom. Consider the Victorian era. Queen Victoria was crowned queen of England in 1838 and two years later married Prince Albert, the gentleman whose picture has been on millions and millions of tobacco cans. She reigned for more than 50 years during the height of the British Empire's most glorious days. For the 50th anniversary of her reign, England put on a spectactular show, called the Golden Jubilee, with dignitaries from all over the world paying honor to this most distinguished lady. Ten years later, an even larger pageant, called the Diamond Jubilee, was displayed with all members of the Commonwealth honored. The period of years just before, during, and after her reign has been known as the Victorian era, which, on a comparative basis, had some remarkable fashions 97 �Speaking of tall fins, did you ever see a "bustle?" This was a wire cage about the size of a peck basket that women fastened over their posterior under their dresses to accent this part of their anatomy. Also in fashion were hoop skirts with a four to five foot spread. Even everyday dresses were long, nearly to the ground, so that girl watchers were fortunate to even catch a glimpse of a trim ankle. Men who were looking for a wife had to take a whale of a chance. Though it was not uncommon to catch a glimpse of the "great divide" on the ballroom floor, he never knew for sure whether his bride-to-be had two legs or not. The word "leg'' was taboo when applied to a female. It was called a "limb." Makes me think of a song they used to sing: "After the ball was over, Jennie took out her glass eye; Put her cork leg in the comer, took off her bottle of dye. Put her false teeth in the water, hung up her wig on the walls, Then all went to dreamland ... after the ball." All babies back then were either delivered by the stork or found in a cabbage patch. Even the word "sex" was taboo. So were many other things that are common today. Undergarments worn by women were referred to, if at all, as unmentionables; corsets were a must and sometimes required two people to lace them up the back. Any girl caught dancing, playing cards, smoking, or dating without a chaperone was considered a ••fast" woman whose morals 98 �were questionable. Aunt Nancy Jones, the respected midwife or granny woman who delivered more area babies than all the doctors combined, told about one very prominent, straight-laced, Christian woman who was confined. After an examination Aunt Nancy said, "Mrs. G., I believe you are going to have twins." "Nonsense," replied Mrs. G. "Only Common people have twins." · Over the years Victorian furniture became more and more fancy with all kinds of geegaws, scrolls, crowns, and inlays upon inlays. Many chests and washstands had marble tops which are still in great demand today. Many towns still have a number of houses built during this period that have very fancy "gingerbread" trimming, domes, steeples, gazebos, catwalks, and all kinds of ornamentation on the roofs. Like the tail fins, these things had no practical purpose, but were merely ornamental, or perhaps an expression by the owners of their newly acquired affluence. 99 �Don't Slam the Door "I didn't mean to slam the door. In fact, I didn't really slam it, just pushed it open and it slammed itself." I guess my poor mother admonished me hundreds of times about that screen door, but when your best friend calls for you to come out and play, what's a boy gonna do? He just doesn't walk out the door. He runs. That's when that contrary door would slam itself. Then, when halfway across the street, Mother would call, "Alexander!" When she used that tone of voice, Alexander would jump. "Come back here and shut that door properly." So I would reluctantly go back open the door, and close it very, very carefully. With so many houses air conditioned today, the old screen doors have about passed into oblivion. Now, with the newfangled door closures, one doesn't hear those old-timey slams and bangs that used to echo up and down the street in the summertime. Gone too are the spacious front porches where neighbors would sit and fraternize in the shank of the evening and courtin' couples would snuggle up in the swing. Every porch had j ardineers and pots of ferns and flowers, comfortable rocking chairs, a 100 �porch swing, and best of all, people. With our doors tightly closed now, we miss the sights and sounds of the old neighborhood. Kids on their tricycles, others scrambling after lightning bugs, the neighbor's tom cat stalking sparrows, couples strolling around the block and stopping to pass the time of day. It isn't that people are less friendly than they used to be. They are just more self-centered and afraid. We come home after work and unlock the door that use to stay open, cut on the air conditioning, shut the door, and turn on the "boobtube." We have forgotten what we are missing. My grandfather's log house, which he inherited from his father, originally consisted of one large room with a fireplace which was the combined living and master bedroom. Thesecond floor housed a loft bedroom. About fifteen feet from the main house was a smaller two-story log house that was used for a kitchen with the second story for the hired help. All cooking was done over the large fireplaces. Connecting these two buildings was a roof over that was called a "dog trot" where the numerous hound dogs slept curled against the chimney. When I became old enough to spend some time there, two wings had been added to the main house. One was a lean-to on the back in which was housed the new kitchen and dining room. The kitchen was equipped with a new 101 �.. Majestic" wood stove and the dining room with a long homemade walnut table that would easily seat 12-14 people. The other wing was attached to the end of the house and contained the parlor, guest room, and additional bedrooms upstairs. At the time of my first visit, no screens had been installed on the windows, and bugs, bees, and flies could fly in one window and hopefully, fly out the other. To keep the flies off the food were what we called ..shoo-flies." These were long hickory switches or sticks with shredded paper attached which, when waved through the air, would keep the flies jumping. When fly paper became plentiful, sheets were scattered around with long streamers hanging from ceilings. And, of course, across the front of the whole house was a big front porch. I don't recall any old houses that didn't have front porches, even the tiny one-room cabins. I remember once complaining to my father about a neighbor who had effectively cut off our ..short-cut" through his yard by putting a fence around his whole lot. Dad said then that the bad part about fencing other people out was that those who did it also fenced themselves in. I suppose that's what we are doing to ourselves when we shut the door and cut on the TV. If you don't have a porch, try sitting in your yard in the moonlight; listen to the katydids, watch the lightning bugs and say hello to your 102 �neighbors. You'll be glad you did. 103 �Longjohns and Featherbeds In the early part of this century "central heating'' was unheard in this part of the world. There was such a thing as "steam heat," used mostly in public buildings, schools, etc., that consisted of a central steam boiler, located generally in the basement, that was connected by iron pipes to those rattling, hissing, moaning gadgets called radiators. Central heating was the expression used later on to describe a large furnace located in the basement with just one iron grill situated above the furnace. That was the "central" and only source of the heat. The great majority of homes throughout this whole country were heated with fireplaces. Smaller houses had only one or two fireplaces, while larger two-story houses had as many as six to twelve. It took a lot of wood and a lot of poking to keep those fires going. In my father's home, which was built around 1900, there were seven fireplaces and a flue for a cook stove. I don't remember that we ever had more than three or four fires lit at one time, and that would only be when we had a house full of relatives. I don't remember that any of the older homes were insulated, and on a cold windy 104 �night every room in the house was mighty drafty. When a woman came in from the cold, the first thing she would do after taking off her coat, was back up to that fireplace. If no strangers were present, she would lift her skirt in the back to warm her backside. It got to be such a habit that I have seen men and women walk into a room in the summertime and head directly for the fireplace or stove. Here is where the "long johns," heavy knit or flannel underwear with long sleeves and legs, come in. Along about Thanksgiving out of the cedar chests or moth balls came those familiar garments for every member of the family. Children hated them, but they were possibly the only things that warded off pheumonia. Girls in particular despised those itchy winter garments, primarily because there was no way they could hide the bulky wrinkles under the black stockings of the day. Little boys just didn't care. Their stockings were always droopy and wrinkled anyway. Another practical garment in those days was the "red flannels." These were not necessarily red in color, but were generally referred to by that name. Those were sleeping garments, longsleeved night gowns made of flannel. They would sure keep you warm. However, my biggest problem in the winter was getting to my bedroom from that hot glowing fire in the fireplace. I had to run down that long, cold, 105 �unheated hall and then up those cold stairs and into a cold bed. Some of you old-timers may still remember the old "feather beds," a mattress stuffed with goose down. Bedded down in one of those beds with a couple of comforters or quilts on top, there was no way you could freeze to death. When you hair turns grey or falls out, and you have a lot of miles under your belt, it is pleasant to remember the old horse and buggy days. The times were less frantic, and the main topic of conversation was the weather. 106 �Winning is Everything Would you know what Harley Goode, Pat Abernathy, "Slats" Ledbetter, Mike Spainhour, Iverson Davis, Lona Jaynes, Will Patton, "Mig'' Billings, Worth Parker, Napoleon Avery and Hamp Erwin had in common? They were heroes, that's what-baseball heroes, and along with many others, were granted the red carpet treatment by the area's loyal fans. This area was a hotbed of rabid baseball fans with fine teams, community pride and a fierce desire to win. Their motto was, "We'll win, one way or the other." If we lost on the field, chances were some fans would try to win in the stands or bring home some cracked heads for the effort. There were no rules concerning eligibility of players in the early days, so a lot of tricks were employed by all the teams. The only thing that really counted was to win. When it became apparent that some rules would have to be observed, leagues were organized over the country and given ratings such as double A, triple A, etc., so that each team could compete against others of equal strength. These were called semi-pro and were generally not allied with "farm" teams that belonged to the Big League teams. Until strict rules were observed, it was not 107 �108 �uncommon for a team to import a "star" pitcher from out of state for just one or two games. Once when the home team played Hickory, the Hickory team brought most of the best players from the Charlotte team and beat the pants off of us. For the next home game, the Morganton team brought a star pitcher from Tennessee and some players from Asheville to beat the tar out of Hickory. Since gate receipts were seldom sufficient to cover costs, many area folks contributed their time and money toward the support of local teams. Community members were especially supportive of their teams. One season alone drew more than 66,000 fans at the ball park. Downtown stores closed during games because all their customers and employees were at the ball game. The players themselves were rarely professional ball players. Most considered baseball their summer or second job. One area player, who was a four-star collegiate athlete, funded a medical school education by playing baseball during his summers. An amusing story among the old-timers is that of the cement finisher who doubled as a ball player. He had to finish up a job and couldn't get to the game until the ninth inning. He rushed into the park covered with wet cement, grabbed a bat, and hit the winning home run. 109 �Child's Play Unfortunately, I'm not up to date on the younger generation's activities, but I can recollect a lot of the games that kids used to play. We didn't have the toys, bikes, television, or manufactured games that they have today, so most childhood activities consisted of things that cost no money, only a joy of life. Younger boys and girls played together until they reached the age at which separate games were more appealing to them. Little girls wanted to play "house" or "paper dolls," and little boys would play ··cowboys and Indians." During this transition stage, they would sometimes swap: ··rll play cowboy with you if you'll play house with me." One of the earliest group games was ••Ring Around the Roses." Children would hold hands in a circle while singing this little song: Ring around the roses, A pocket of posies. One - two - three, Squat, little Josie. At the word "squat" everyone would squat and the last one down was ··out." Do you remember ··Drop the handkerchief?" Children would circle as above and whoever 110 �was "it" would run around the outside and drop a handkerchief behind someone. If that person was able to outrun the other back to the starting point, then the other was "if' and would have to do the same. Other group games were "Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?," "Kick the Can," "Blind Man's Bluff," "Gossip," "Giant Steps," "Pretty Girl's Station," "Pop the Whip," "In and Out the Window," or "London Bridge is Falling Down." "London Bridge" was especially popular with us, and I still remember the song we sang while playing: London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady. Kids would form two lines, holding hands across the lane singing this song. Those at the end of the line would run through the lane and at the words "My Fair Lady," the gate would close by bringing the arms down around whoever happened to be there. "Red Rover" was played by forming two lines, holding hands as tightly as possible and chanting "Red Rover, Red Rover, let (calling someone's name in the other line) come over." Then the one called would try to break through the line and if unsuccessful, he would have to join the opposition. When there were not enough children for group games, there was always "Hopscotch," "Skip the Rope," "Jack Rocks," "Marbles," 111 �"Holey-Roley," "Paper Dolls," or "MumbleyPeg." Now "Mumbley-Peg'' was a good one. Played with a dual bladed pocket knife, the short blade was opened fully and the long blade only halfway. Balancing the knife on the ground with the forefinger under the handle, you would flip it into the air. If the knife came down on its side, it didn't count. If it rested on the big blade and the handle, the count was 25. If the big blade stuck into the ground, it counted 50. If both the small and large blades were touching the ground, the count was 75. If the small blade stuck up, the count was 100. The loser would have to kneel on the ground with hands behind his back and pull a peg or stick out of the ground with his teeth. We used to make what we called "tractors" using only a rubber band, match stick, spool and a piece of crayon. We would take the empty spool and put a rubber band through the hole, fastening one end of the band to one end of the spool, cut off a piece of crayon or bee's wax about the size of a washer with a hole in the middle for the rubber band to pass through, then stick a kitchen match in the loop of the band. When wound up, it would crawl along the floor or ground like a Caterpillar tractor. A trip to Asbury's Pond for a swim on a hot afternoon was a real treat for us youngsters. The admission fee was ten cents and worth every 112 �penny of it. Before the days of autos, radio, or television, the thing I remember with the most pleasure in the evenings were the tales my father would tell around the fire. It would always begin with, "Dad, tell us a story," and generally he would. The tales were completely ridiculous, but delightful for us children. 113 �Tin Lizzies & Whimmey-Dittles They called 'em "Tin Lizzies," "Flivers," or "Skeeters," and on cold frosty mornings when they wouldn't start, they called them some other names that you ladies might not want to hear. Scornful, yet affectionate names were given to one of the simplest, most useful, enduring mechanical devices devised by man-the Model T Ford. It is probably second only to the invention of the wheel and the wheelbarrow in the impact it had on the world. The manufacture of the Model T and the development of the assembly line was the pattern for the Industrial Revolution which is the basis of our prosperity today. The early Fords had canvas tops, open on all sides with a two-piece windshield which one could open in hot weather. There was no door on the driver's side of the car. The wheels had wooden spokes like those on old wooden wagon wheels. A magneto which had to be cranked by hand was used in place of a battery. In the early days, people would heat some rocks or bricks and put them in a sack to keep their feet from freezing while on a winter's drive. Later, someone invented a contraption that fastened onto the manifold to bring heat, 114 �115 �along with exhaust fumes, into the vehicle. The Model T sat very high off the road in order to cross over stumps and enable it to ford creeks or rivers without dragging. The roads were so bad that most cars could not make it from one town to another, but the faithful Model T could go almost anywhere. A Model T that was no longer on the road still had its uses. The last task I remembered for those old flivers was as wood saws. After the body was removed, a saw rack could be fastened to the frame, and when one wheel was jacked off the ground, it would really make the saw buzz. When the Ford Motor Company ceased manufacturing the Model T there were literally thousands still operating. Back then, kids in high school would chip in to buy a Model T for about $50. They would strip it down and have brackets made to lower the center of gravity. We called them "skeeters," and a kid with just a little mechanical ability could keep one running with a couple of tin cans, some bailing wire, a pair of pliers, and a screwdriver. Younger children had they playtoys too. We had things like "whimmey-dittles," a toy whittled out of wood that was fun to make as well as play with. Rag dolls were easily made or repaired with a needle and thread. Skateboards were made using just one skate. One half of a skate was attached to each end of a plank about 116 �two feet long. They were not as fast nor as dangerous as the skateboards in use today, but a lot of fun just the same. 117 �Shooting the Anvil Before the days of split second communication, country people had their own methods of spreading news or celebration. Various forms of fireworks, gunblasts, whistles, and bells were used to alert folks of election results and holiday festivities. One of the most popular forms of noisemaking for the old-timers was known as "shooting the anvil." This was done by scooping out a depression in a chopping block or on top of a stump. The hole was then filled with black gunpowder and covered by an anvil. A mighty blow on top of the anvil with a sledge hammer resulted in an explosion whose boom could be heard for miles. Once the anvil was used to spread the wrong news through a mountain community. The year was 1912, and the setting was Swain County on the Little Tennessee River. Woodrow Wilson was running for President on the Democratic ticket against Teddy Roosevelt, the Bull Moose party's representative, and William Howard Taft, the Republican candidate. Most mountain people were staunch Roosevelt supporters, and when news mistakenly filtered into the mountain community that 118 �Roosevelt had won, this called for a grand celebration. In Swain County they used two anvils instead of one. One anvil was on the ground with black powder sprinkled on top. The second anvil capped the first, and the powder was lit with a red hot wire or poker. To make the sound carry further, they would always go to the top of the nearest mountain. The anvil's resulting noise was like a clap of thunder, and the origin of the boom could always be spotted by the large bonfire built there. It happened to be Saturday night when word came in and the shooting started. Just imagine the fun. A half dozen bonfires on as many different mountain tops with thunder claps answering each other from peak to peak. They were enjoying it so much that no one noticed that midnight had passed and they were actually shooting their anvils on Sunday morning, except the preacher! You can imagine what the sermon that Sunday was about. It was four days later before the community discovered that Woodrow Wilson had, in fact, won the election. Children were not without their own noise makers. When I was a youngster, the only noise makers we were allowed to use were firecrackers and not very big ones at that. We had to use a "joss" stick, which was a slow burning wick, to light firecrackers and roman 119 �candles instead of matches. Regardless of the weather, as the old year gave way to the new, we would always go out on the front porch and listen to the noisy celebrations. Welcoming in the New Year was a cause for much celebration. Factory whistles would blow, bells would ring, guns and firecrackers would go off while the old Atwater-Kent radio was blaring out, "Should Auld Acquaintances Be Forgot?" The town of Cherryville still boasts of its own "New Year Shooters." This group of men and boys keep the ancient practice of blasting the New Year in alive. On New Year's Eve they gather from miles around, travel from place to place, and shoot their guns and firecrackers most of the night. 120 �Childhood Memories Things that are most memorable from childhood are those that were either pleasurable, frightening, very happy or unhappy episodes. My first chore around the house was to carry in wood for the kitchen stove. My next chore was to feed and water the chickens. I will never forget that ornery old rooster who used to flog me every time my back was turned. Finally, after being conned by my older brother, I learned to milk the cow and will always remember how that ungrateful beast used to switch her tail, loaded with cockleburs, against the side of my face, or how she would raise her foot and stick it in the milk pail just when I had about finished milking. Romance was brought into my life at the very early age of three years. Mary Tucker Jeter lived just across the street from our home on Avery Avenue, and we both had older sisters who had acquired a new-fangled picture-taking machine called a Kodak. After shooting up all the local scenery, they decided they needed some human interest pictures for posterity, so they persuaded Tuck and me to pose, hugging each other. This early experience was to have dire consequences during my first day at school. 121 �Back then, first grade was taught in two sections. The first section of children came around 9:00 a.m. and stayed until noon. The second section, which I was assigned to, came about noon. On this first day everyone came early and 122 �waited until the first section was dismissed. When I arrived, I could hardly believe my eyes. There was about a dozen of the prettiest little girls ever assembled in one place, all dressed up with bow ribbons in their hair. It was enough to make a "man-of-the-world" lose his cool. True to my early training, I decided that the thing to do was to hug every one of them, but would you believe that those little varmints wouldn't cooperate at all? They squealed, hollered, and ran, creating so much commotion that our teacher came out of her class to find out what the riot was all about. When she discovered that it was only a miniature wolf in the biddie pen, she grabbed the would-be Don Juan by the ear and sat him in a chair in front of all the strange kids in the first section. I can tell you, except for making ugly faces, it was many years before I had anything else to do with women. Back then, the national pastime was not baseball, football, or golf. It was marbles. Words like "taw," "agate," "pea-dab," "glassie," "steelie," or "knucks" were as commonplace as home runs, touchdowns, or field goals today. There was not much paving or traffic in those days, and everywhere one would go, he could see the circles drawn on the sand-clay street or walkways. Around these circles would be numerous barefoot boys on their knees, shooting marbles for fun or for "keeps." 123 �Some boys practiced and played so much that their knuckles would become raw and bloody. Many of the "pros" would have leather slings made to cover their knuckles so that they wouldn't become so worn, and their mothers would make knee pads to save patching so many pants. The best shooters didn't like to play for fun if they could find someone to play for "keeps." Another game was to dig several holes in a straight line, and each player, in turn, would try to shoot his "taw" into the holes. If he missed, his taw would remain where it lay until another player could shoot. If one player was able to hit the other's taw, the loser was out of the game. If they were playing "knucks," the loser would have to clinch his hand into a first, place it on the ground, and the winner would shoot his taw at the knuckles. It could be pretty painful, especially if the other player had a steelie for a taw. Baseball was not very popular with the little kids because of the lack of equipment. Virtually no one had gloves, mitts, real bats or balls. Bats were made like a paddle from a piece of plank. Balls were merely strings wound around something like a marble and would unravel with each hard blow of the bat. Nevertheless, what was lacking in equipment was made up by noisy enthusiasm. The two most exciting days in the year were 124 �Easter and Christmas. On Easter Sunday, if the weather was warm and clear, I could take off my winter shoes, roll up my "long handles" and go barefoot. Just thinking how good that cool, green grass felt squishing around between my toes makes me want to try it again. This didn't mean that the "long handles" came off at Easter. By no means could we get rid of that itchy blanket before May 1. Christmas, with all the excitement of Santa Claus and presents, also brought some unusual goodies. In addition to the fruitcake soaked with grape juice, there were always chocolate, silver, coconut, and caramel cakes. The biggest trouble was trying to decide which one, and only one, piece you would rather have. Remember when the streets were sand-clay? Sand would be hauled from the river in wagons and spread over the red clay street, making a pretty good surface for the traffic at that time. When the fresh sand was spread, all the children in the neighborhood would gather in the streets to build their sand castles, dams, and fortifications until the first rains would muddy them up. Then they would take to the trees for their games. Some places were off limits to the young'uns. One in particular was a little one-room, frame building on the corner of Queen and North Greene streets in Morganton. This store had no windows and only one door. Through the walls 125 �were little holes, said to be bullet holes. This was a barroom where they sold "likker," and we were not even allowed to go close to it for fear we might hear something we were not supposed to hear. During "court week," all vacant lots were filled with men and their wagons, horses, and campfires at night, which made a fascinating sight for a youngster, but this also was taboo. These men were known to sometimes drink, cuss, and "meby" fight a little, and kids were not supposed to know about this either. I remember the false armistice during World War I when everyone thought the war was over. Bells were ringing, bonfires were built in the streets, and it looked like an old-fashioned Fourth of July celebration. I celebrated by buying a whole nickel's worth of candy at one time. People were so exhuberant and happy for the false one that when the real armistice was announced, all the zip was gone. For many years after this war, one could see the army jackets, wrap-around "leggins," puttees, hats and overseas caps still worn by the ex-soldiers and their kin. Nothing was wasted back then, and even today you can occasionally see one of those jackets still in use. It was long about then that I got my first lasting impression of war. Every neighborhood had its own gang of boys who played together, had their own territory, and with the war going 126 �on, marched and played soldier. On this occasion we were invaded by a gang from another neighborhood. Nobody really' did any fighting. It was all bluff. Maybe a few small rocks were thrown and the invading group retreated. It was here I learned that it's sometimes better to let well-enough alone. I thought I could lick this other boy with one hand tied behind me, so I started chasing him. I ran after him until I was out of breath when suddenly he turned around and poked me right in the nose, and the blood started flying. That ended the battle, and I haven't cared for war since. 127 �about the author j. alexander mull and gordon boger were both longtime residents of Morganton, North Carolina. They were also frequent collaborators having written Mountain Yarns, Legends, and Lore, and Tales of Old Burke together. Boger passed away in Morganton, North Carolina, on October 3, 1986. Mull passed away in 1982, also in Morganton. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Subject The topic of the resource Catawba River Valley (N.C. and S.C.) Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Recollections of the Catawba Valley Description An account of the resource <span>Published in 1983, </span><em>Recollections of the Catawba Valley</em><span> is a selection of family stories, local history, and mountain folklore chosen by Alexander Mull and Gordon Boger who were longtime citizens of the valley in North Carolina. The Mull family was one of the earliest settlers in the region, and Boger, although born elsewhere, was considered a native of the valley. Some of the stories in this volume were originally published in The News Herald of Morganton, as both authors were longtime contributors to the paper. W. H. Plemmons, second President of Appalachian State University, wrote the foreward.<br /></span><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1D2noiMjRifKl_UJ_JDGHi-RgaIqROLBz" target="_blank">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469638379/recollections-of-the-catawba-valley/" target="_blank">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Mull, J. Alexander Boger, Gordon Language A language of the resource English Subject The topic of the resource Catawba River Valley (N.C. and S.C.) Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1983 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Catawba River Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s Catawba Valley folklore history recollections residents tales https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/9b691cc265c6d3a982edc19d587be6c4.pdf 62e2e6c4fdfd18d23d01ba4faffa1362 PDF Text Text �Western North Carolina Since the Civil War Ina W oestemeyer Van N oppen John J. Van Noppen APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM PRESS BOONE, NORTH CAROLINA 28607 �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program, Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1973 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-3831-7 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-3833-1 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �TABLE OF CONTENTS AUTHORS' PREFACE lV INTRODUCTION BY CRATIS WILLIAMS Vl PROLOGUE I 23 PART ONE: THE PEOPLE AND THEIR HOMELAND I. 2. On Main Traveled Roads Off The Beaten Path 25 59 69 PART TWO: A CHANGING SOCIETY 3· 4· 5. 6. 7· 8. 9· IO. I 1. Religion The Bar and The Forum That All May Live Public Education Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning Teacher Education From The Heart, The Hand, and The Head Literature The Lore of The Folk PART THREE: A DEVELOPING ECONOMY I2. I3. I4. IS. I6. 17. Hear That Whistle Blow! Agriculture Timber! From Indian Trails to Broad Highways Business and Industry In Pursuit of Pleasure SOURCES 7I 88 I03 I2I 5I I66 I84 I 20I 223 25I 253 269 29I 323 346 37I 414 INDEX 111 430 �AUTHORS' PREFACE Since its organization in 1952 and even before that time, members of the Western North Carolina Historical Association have searched zealously for history in their communities and in their counties. They researched old letters, records, account books, family histories, historic happenings. They have written county histories and presented papers before the historical association. They have sought the aid of the state Department of Archives and History. They have promoted the preservation of historic sites. Their contributions have been invaluable for a history of the region. Among the leading contributors have been Miss Cordelia Camp, Dean W. E. Bird, Mrs. Mary Jane McCrary, Dean D.]. Whitener, and Professor John A. McLeod. Journalists John Wikle, John Parris, George McCoy and his wife, Lola Love McCoy, and such writers of county histories as Judge Johnson Hayes, Clarence Griffin, Mrs. Sadie Smathers Patton, Mrs. Margaret Freel, Mrs. Nancy Alexander, Horton Cooper, Arthur Fletcher, and Mrs. Lillian Thomasson, provided information sifted out from local annals. The newspapers of Western North Carolina, especially the Asheville Citizen- Times, are to be commended for publishing anniversary editions and encouraging the people to be interested in their history and its preservation. Publisher George M. Stephens has been a promoter of the Carolina Highlands, publishing numerous books and pamphlets dealing with Western North Carolina history. January 27, 1963, a committee to promote a history of the Western North Carolina Highlands was appointed. It consisted of W. Ernest Bird, Miss Cordelia Camp, John A. McLeod, D. Hiden Ramsey, George M. Stephens, Glenn Tucker, and Daniel ]. Whitener, chairman. By late 1964 the present authors had been lV �Authors' Preface / v drafted to write the book. Interested members contributed financially to support the research, most generous of whom was Wendell Williamson of Asheville. Robert Conway of the North Carolina Department of Archives and History furnished a list of names of persons who were particularly interested in history, one in each county. We called upon the persons named, and they usually guided us around their counties to view the historic sites and distinctive features. Leroy Sossamon took us flying over the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. In Brevard Mrs. Mary Jane McCrary took us into her home, as did Dr. and Mrs. Edward Phifer in Morganton. Several county-wide meetings of local historians were held. Informative ones were arranged by Worth Morgan of Forest City and Frank Rogers of Waynesville. Many members of the association took us to old residents who knew of historic events. They showed us letters, furnished newspaper clippings, some of which were undated and had no sources listed. John Wikle of Bryson City furnished an extensive file of his articles from the Asheville Citizen and the Atlanta Journal. Dozens of graduate students researched local topics, contributing useful information. Lawrence Groves, Thomas Corbitt, and Rosalie Sexauer Dorsey deserve special mention. We are grateful to members of the administration at Appalachian State University for released time for research, to the Office of Development for photographic assistance, and especially to John Dinkins, photographer. Our sincere appreciation is due Dean Cratis Williams who wrote our introduction, Mrs. Allie Hodgin of the Appalachian State University Library who aided us tirelessly, and Jack Van Noppen who reviewed the manuscript and helped organize it. Our greatest indebtedness is to Miss Myra Champion who encouraged and contributed more than words can tell to the completion of this book. Boone, North Carolina February 12, 1973 Ina Van Noppen John]. Van Noppen �INTRODUCTION The late Daniel]. Whitener, Chairman of the Department of Social Sciences and Dean of Appalachian State Teachers College, was commissioned in 1948 to prepare a history of Watauga County, North Carolina, for the Centennial Celebration of the formation of the county and the Sesquicentenial Celebration of the founding of Watauga Academy, the parent institution of Appalachian State University. Dean Whitener's experience inspired him to assume leadership in the forming of the Southern Appalachian Historical Association, which set about to build the Daniel Boone Outdoor Theatre in Boone and produce Kermit Hunter's Horn in the West, but he also saw the need for a carefully done history of Western North Carolina which he hoped ultimately to be able to write himself. Encouraged by both the Western North Carolina Historical Association and the Historical Society of North Carolina, Dean Whitener began gathering material and planning a history, but his heavy burden of administrative duties at the rapidly growing college and his wide range of interests and involvements in local and state civic activities did not leave time for him to engage in the field research needed for the kind of history he thought should be written. During the year prior to his scheduled retirement from his administrative position at Appalachian, Dean Whitener realized that the condition of his health was such that he would not be able to write the history he had dreamed of writing. He sought the advice of the members of the Western North Carolina Historical Association and his collegues at the college. He was urged to determine whether Ina W oestemeyer Van N oppen, a productive scholar and professor of history at Appalachian, might be willing to undertake to complete the history. Vl �Introduction / vu Ina Van Noppen, who had collected oral history, visited the sites of engagements along the route of Stoneman's Last Raid, and searched for materials in archives and libraries in preparation for her writing of Stoneman's Last Raid, had become interested in the history of Western North Carolina and the mountain people who live there. She had already discovered that, aside from a few county histories of uneven quality written for the most part by people little acquainted with the techniques of historical scholarship and often motivated by genealogical interests, little had been done, and no one had attempted a comprehensive history of the entire mountain region of the state since 1914 when John Preston Arthur published his History of Western North Carolina. Dr. Van Noppen, reluctant to undertake to do the assignment because ofher work in collaboration with her husband, John James Van Noppen, a professor of English at Appalachian, in the preparation of a biography of Daniel Boone, requested time for consideration of the request. Urged by the membership of the Western North Carolina Historical Association and encouraged by promises of such resources as might be available to it in helping to underwrite the publication of the book, Dr. Van N oppen agreed to write it provided she could work in collaboration with her husband. As the plan for the history developed, the Van Noppens began to see that it ought not to be the usual history of the political and economic progress of a region within a state but, rather a whole history, which would include a treatment of the differentiating qualities of the mountain people as well as their institutions, traditions, customs, folklore, arts and crafts, way of life, and the literature written about them and by them. Western North Carolina is the state's share of Appalachia, but no history of Appalachia has been written. Much has been written about the folklore of the mountain people, the economic problems which plague the region, and the nature of the people themselves, as well as their social problems, customs, old fashioned religious views, and political conservatism. The Van Noppens thought that a history should treat all facets in the lives of the people about which it is written. Hence, they have produced an economic, political, social, and cultural history which might well be taken as a model for similar histories of western Virginia, eastern Kentucky, and eastern Tennessee, which, when taken together, might provide a base for a comprehensive history of a unique and fascinating people, the Southern Appalachians. �viii / Introduction Western North Carolina Since the Civil War is the product of eight years of research and writing. Not content to rely upon such sources as might be found in regional libraries and state archives, the Van Noppens sought out individuals in the mountain region who possessed primary sources, traveled over the mountains tram town to town and courthouse to courthouse in search of sources, sought documents and reports stored in state archives and the Library of Congress. John Van Noppen reviewed the literature about the mountain folk, visited living writers, studied the collections of ballads and folk songs, and read theses and dissertations written about the cultural heritage of the area. Together, the Van Noppens attended fairs and festivals and visited museums, libraries, and colleges in the area. They traced out the early roads through the mountains, studied the histories of the railroads, visited the forests and the national and state parks, examined the history and development of tourism, and sought out the seers and craftsmen, the educators and the religious leaders, the politicians and the developers who share in guiding the native mountain folk living in what has come to be known as North Carolina's vacation land through their transition from a highland rural and largely self-subsistent society to what is rapidly becoming an urban society. Ina Woestemeyer Van Noppen, a native of Bethel, Kansas, was educated at the University of Kansas and Columbia University. Soon after graduating from the University ofKansas, she began teaching history in high schools in Kansas City. After receiving the M.A. degree from Columbia, she taught for a time at the Woman's College of the University ofNorth Carolina at Greensboro. While working toward her doctoral degree at Columbia, she taught history at Penn Hall Junior College, where her husband John J. Van Noppen, was dean and a teacher of English. Later sh'~ and her husband taught at Hiram College and at Youngstown College in Ohio before going to Appalachian State Teachers College in Boone, North Carolina, in 1947. She is the author of The Westward Movement (1939), The South: A Documentary History (1958), and Stoneman's Last Raid (1961), for which she received the Thomas Wolfe Memorial Award from the Western North Carolina Historical Association. She and her husband collaborated in the writing of Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman (1966). An outstanding teacher ofhistory, Dr. Ina Van Noppen received one of the first distinguished teacher awards presented by Appalachian State University. �Introduction / ix John J. Van Noppen grew up in Madison, North Carolina. He holds degrees from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and Columbia University. After years of teaching in secondary schools and preparatory schools, including experience in Italy, where he became personally acquainted with Benito Mussolini, Dr. Van Noppen began a long career as a college teacher and administrator. He was an English teacher and Dean ofPenn Hall Junior College and Preparatory School at Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, Head of the Department of Education at Hiram College, and a teacher ofEnglish at Youngstown College in Ohio. He joined the English faculty at Appalachian State Teachers College, Boone, North Carolina, in 1947. He has engaged in extensive research on Archibald Henderson and George Bernard Shaw and collaborated with his wife in the writing of Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman (1966). The Van N oppens are world travelers, having conducted summer tours abroad for students and teachers for many years. While researching in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland in preparation for their biography of Daniel Boone, they learned much of the ferments which sent English, Scottish, and ScotchIrish pioneers into Western North Carolina prior to the American Revolution. Among the descendants of these settlers are the Western North Carolina mountain people of today. Western North Carolina Since the Civil War, though a scholarly work, is published without the extensive footnotes which the authors painstakingly prepared. Aimed primarily at the reading public, particularly of Western North Carolina, the book is none the less of value to the historian and the student oflocal cultures. Moving slowly and often painfully out of their dark period of economic and social disintegration following the Civil War, the mountain people living in the isolated and insulated "lost provinces" ofWestern North Carolina had by 1900 begun their steady march of progress into contemporary times. Uneven at times and faltering as the state and the nation suffered through such social and economic upheavals as war, economic booms and recessions, and drouths, the people of Western North Carolina have made solid progress in improving education, local economy, communication, land use, and natural resources. Most importantly, they have clung to the traditions and nurtured the heritage that is uniquely their own. With pride in themselves and appreciation of the grandeur which lies about them, they have managed to preserve their own culture and conserve their own beautiful �x / Introduction homeland so rich in resources that the degree of poverty there is not comparable with that found elsewhere in Appalachia. As the Van Noppens have so aptly observed, Carolina mountain folk arc not "yesterday's people" nor is night likely to come to them, for they have become the shapers of their own destiny. Cratis Williams Appalachian State University Boone, North Carolina �PROLOGUE Extending from Rutherfordton on the south to Mount Airy and Fancy Gap on the north is an elevated region, the foothills, from I,ooo to 2,ooo feet above sea level. Beyond are lofty, mistshrouded and haze-creating mountains, the picturesque barrier of the Blue Ridge on the east, the magnificent Great Smokies and the scenic Unakas on the west. Between the Blue Ridge, which is the eastern Continental Divide, and the Unakas there is a high plateau with altitudes ranging from 3,500 to 4,000 feet. Grandfather Mountain 5,964 feet, is the highest and most spectacular peak in the Blue Ridge, but not as high as the Black Mountains farther south, where Mount Mitchell rears its lofty crest 6,684 feet above sea level. This elevated tableland encircled by the two great mountain ranges is traversed by cross chains that run directly across the country, from which spurs of greater and lesser height lead off in all directions. Among the transverse groups are the Black, Roan, Yellow, New Found, Pisgah, Balsam, Cowee, Nantahala, Cheoah, and Tusquitee ranges. Between these ranges lie valleys formed by rivers which flow through gorges near their headwaters, then widen out and continue through fertile valleys across the plateau, and narrow again, dividing the rampart into the Unicoi, the Great Smokies, the Iron, the Bald, and the Stone Mountains. Clingman's Dome in the Smokies is 6,642 feet above sea level, almost as high as Mount Mitchell. The Black Mountain range extends for twenty miles, and its sides are covered in places by almost impenetrable forests. Of the transverse chains, next to the Blacks in size and altitude are the Balsams. In general magnitude and length they are the most extensive of the cross ranges. Fifty miles long, this range has numerous peaks which average 6,ooo feet. I �2 / Prologue Geographically Western North Carolina, consisting of foothills, valleys, peaks, the crest of the Blue Ridge, the Great Smoky Mountains, and the transverse ridges, is about 250 miles long and up to ISO miles wide. It consists of approximately one-fifth of North Carolina's area but only one-seventh of its population. It has one county with sixteen persons per square mile, three with fewer than thirty per square mile, three with from thirty to thirty-nine per square mile, five with from forty to fortynine persons, and two with from fifty to fifty-nine, while for the entire state the population density is ninety-seven per square mile. Since I739 the subdivisions of the state have been known as counties, each serving as an administrative unit for the colony and later for the state. As new areas were opened they too were designated as counties; some of them were quite large, and later as the population increased other counties were formed by subdividing the existing ones. Rowan County, formed in I 7 53, was the parent of Western North Carolina although the present-day Rowan County is not in Western North Carolina. In I77I Surry County was created from Rowan and remained the westernmost one until Burke was also formed from Rowan in I777 and Wilkes from Surry in I778. In the southwest Mecklenburg was created from Anson and in I769 Tryon was formed from the westem part of Mecklenburg. In 1779 Tryon was abolished and its land divided between Lincoln and Rutherford counties; the latter is in Western North Carolina. Meanwhile four additional counties, later part of Tennessee, were formed: Washington in I777, Sullivan in I779, Greene and Davidson in 1783. They anticipated cession to the United States and in 1784 tried to create the State of Franklin, which did not survive as a state. Three other counties, Sumner, Hawkins, and Tennessee, were subdivided from the four before cession did take place in I789. The seven became part of the State of Tennessee which was admitted to the union in I796. In I8oo Westem North Carolina consisted of Surry, Rutherford, Burke, Wilkes, Buncombe (which had been created from lands ceded by the Cherokees), and Ashe counties. Ashe had been separated from Wilkes. As the Cherokees gave up additional lands Haywood County was established in I8o8, Yancey in I833, and Henderson in I838. From Rutherford and Burke came McDowell in I842, and from Buncombe and Yancey was formed Madison in I 8 5 I. In I 828 Macon was set apart �Prologue / 3 from Haywood, and in 1851 Jackson County was created from Haywood and Macon, the latter having surrendered the land evacuated by the Cherokees for the county of Cherokee in 1839. Further subdividing created Polk from Henderson in 1855, Transylvania from Henderson and Jackson, and Clay from Cherokee, in 1861, Swain from Jackson and Macon in 1871, and Graham from Cherokee in 1872. In the northwestern part of the state Caldwell was formed from Burke and Wilkes in 1841, Watauga from Wilkes, Ashe, Caldwell, and Yancey in 1849, Mitchell in 1861 from Yancey, Watauga, Caldwell, Burke, and McDowell. Alleghany was created from the eastern part of Ashe. The last county, Avery, was formed in 1911 from Mitchell, Watauga, and Caldwell. Upon examination of a map showing the counties ofWestern North Carolina one must conclude that they have very peculiar shapes. This is due no doubt to the mountainous terrain and to the necessity that people be able to travel from the farthest point to the county seat. In the eighteenth century immigrants poured through "William Penn's new port of Philadelphia" from the British Isles and Germany. With them they brought their skills, speech, ballads, dances, and folk customs. Many of the second and third generations came southwestward seeking land. Salisbury in the newlycreated Rowan County (1753) became the springboard into the West. In the 1750's Salisbury was like the hub of a wagon wheel. Settlers flowed in along the northern, eastern, and southeastern spokes. They paused briefly to rest their horses, repair their wagons (if they had any), and to buy needed supplies of salt, powder, lead, and tools. Many fanned out along the western spokes toward the beckoning beauty of the Blue Ridge. They plunged deeper and ever deeper into the wilderness, lured on by the prospect of cheap and still richer lands on which to build their homes. Soon they had settled all except the most mountainous parts of what are now Surry, Wilkes, Burke, and Rutherford counties. Intrepidly they disregarded the threat of Indian attacks and moved into the uncharted wilderness. Some lost their lives but many survived, the ancestors of presentday mountaineers. Men bearing the names of Alexander, Boone, Bryan, Robertson, Sevier, Shelby, Campbell, Clingman, �4 / Prologue Jackson, Davidson, Patton, Rutherford, Councill, Calloway, Howard, Horton, Gudger and Moore were among the advance guard. They cleared land, built primitive cabins, hunted, trapped, and fought the Indians. Their incentive was the passion for land where there were few taxes and no restrictions upon political and religious freedom. The extent of their migration may be seen from the fact that in I746 there were not one hundred fighting men in the North Carolina foothills; while in I753 there were three thousand. In I765 one thousand wagons passed through Salisbury going westward. During the Revolutionary War the Cherokee Indians made the fatal mistake of siding with the British. They were badly defeated and decimated by frontiersmen led by men like Griffith Rutherford and John Sevier. Their towns were burned, their women and children killed, and they were driven ever westward. During the Revolution many who fought the Cherokees saw the mountains for the first time, admired the beauty of Western North Carolina and were determined to return and settle as soon as the war ended. A law passed by the state legislature in I 777 provided the method of acquiring land. Each claimant took to the entry recorder a statement of location and approximate boundaries of the land he wished. The county surveyor then surveyed the tract and prepared two plots with descriptions of boundaries and acreage, which he transferred along with the warrant of survey to the secretary of state. The claimant paid the entry taker two pounds and ten shillings per one hundred acres. A husband was allowed to take six hundred forty acres for himself and one hundred acres for his wife and each of his children. For purchases in excess of his allotment the purchaser paid five pounds per one hundred acres, or one shilling per acre. Tracts of as many as I ,ooo,ooo acres were laid out and were acquired by speculators who disposed of the land in tracts of soo or rooo acres. Among the large landowners in the region before I8oo were Charles Gordon in Wilkes County, Robert and William Tate in Burke, David Allison, John Gray Blount, and William Cathcart in Buncombe. When the war was over the state offered land to servicemen in payment for their having served. The bold and dauntless pioneers pushed across the great mountain barrier into a natural wonderland with magnificent scenery, a cool climate, clear air, pure water, fertile valleys, and game in plenty. In this region men and women extended �Prologue / 5 a frontier civilization that became Western North Carolina, consisting ultimately of the twenty-four counties that are in the mountains or ascend the eastern slope of the mountains. Many of the settlers moved into the back country on foot and on horseback, bringing their household goods on pack horses. Among these goods were, in addition to rifle, axe, and hoe, clothing, blankets, bed clothes, bed ticks to be filled with grass, a large pot, pothooks, an oven with a lid, a skillet, a frying pan; a handmill to grind com, a wooden trencher in which to make bread, pewter plates, spoons, the iron parts of plows, a broadaxe, a froe, a saw, an auger, seed, and a few fruit trees. The historian John Fiske implied that the settlers of the mountains were descended from poor whites and indentured servants who migrated westward rather than compete with slave labor, that their ancestors had been herded into ships from the slums and jails of England. His opinion was true of only a small minority. He and others who held this opinion ignored the predominant Scotch-Irish and German origin of many settlers. John C. Campbell believed that the early mountain population was recruited chiefly from the poor but vigorous small farmers of the piedmont, few of whom owned slaves. A study of family names in the Southern Highlands by the Russell Sage Foundation revealed that of 497 names, one-third were English, one-third were Scotch-Irish, and fifteen per-cent were of German origin. Most of the families were descended from those living on the frontiers of Virginia and North Carolina in 1790. They were the same stock that later peopled the Midwest and the Southern states along the Mississippi, except Louisiana. According to S. H. Hobbs, the English in Western North Carolina contributed most to the civilization of the region. "Wherever the Englishman has gone ... he has carried with him the industrial, political, and intellectual customs of his native land. The English ideal of home life, the English industrial system, the English principles of politics and government, the English language and literature sooner or later became the dominant force wheresoever the Englishman set up his home." R. D. W. Connor characterized the racial strains of the population as follows: the English were law-abiding, commercially minded, and self reliant; the Scotch-Irish were democratic, liberty loving, and religiously minded; the Germans wer.e shrewd, economical, conservative, lovers of learning and ·religion. Although Connor was writing about the people of the state �6 / Prologue as a whole, these national strains made up the population of Western North Carolina and his description is apt. There has been a tendency to speak of the early settlers as though they were all alike, all of one class. This tendency has created a misconception. They were not a homogeneous group. Three classes came to the mountains: the prosperous settler class that came and bought good bottom land and perhaps thousands of acres of mountain land as well; those who bought land in smaller tracts from the first group or from the state; and those who came on foot or horseback carrying their few possessions, and who squatted on the land. Many of the prosperous people of the area today are descended from the settler class, although their prosperity did not result from agriculture. Their land was their most valuable resource, and scions of pioneer families are still realizing tremendous returns from land sales land that has grown amazingly valuable. On the other hand poverty for many resulted from the extinction of the game, over crowding, and exhaustion of the soil. As time passed many valleys, ridges, and coves had a population greater than they could support. Large families lived crowded in one or two-room cabins. As late as 1910 eighty per-cent of the population lived outside towns of one thousand population. As the original farms were divided among descendants holdings became smaller and smaller. The Civil War brought disunion and discord to Western North Carolina. Many people loved their section and their state, but they also revered the Union for which their ancestors had fought. Some favored the South, some the Union. Brother fought against brother and father against son. Neighborhoods split, families divided. Many heroic young men fought for the Confederacy; others fled through Tennessee and Kentucky to join the Union army. Numbers hid out in mountain caves and recesses to avoid conscription. Many of the latter two groups were opposed to slavery; others felt that the Civil War was a war of the planter class and they had no reason to fight for planter dominance of the state. There was no actual campaign in the mountains of North Carolina until 1865, but the mountain passes were of strategic importance. The Northern strategy was to divide the South into segments, and control of the passes would have contributed. �Prologue / 7 A number of roads crossed the mountains from east to west: the Western North Carolina Road across the Balsam Mountains; the great highway from South Carolina and Georgia crossing Saluda Gap, passing through Henderson, Buncombe, and Haywood counties; roads from Wilkesboro diverging in three directions: northwest into Virginia, west through Watauga County into Tennessee, and southwest through Morganton, crossing the Blue Ridge at Swannanoa Gap. Turnpikes supplemented the state roads, making it possible for wheeled vehicles to cross through some of the gaps, but there were many littleknown mountain paths where only experienced guides could find their way. The great mountain barriers discouraged invasion by hostile forces even though the area was divided in sentiment. Railroads to cross the mountains had been planned, but none had been built. During the war campaigns were fought all around the mountains but not through them. The salt works at Saltville, Virginia, were a target of several Union raids. Cumberland Gap was in Federal control in 1863; Chattanooga and Knoxville were captured by Union forces and the Shenandoah Valley and the gaps in the Virginia mountains saw considerable action. Braxton Bragg, Kirby Smith, and John Hunt Morgan led Confederate troops through the passes of the Cumberlands, and Union troops fought their way through Georgia's mountains from Chattanooga to Atlanta, yet North Carolina's mountains remained a formidable barrier. General U. S. Grant considered following up the victory at Chattanooga by sending so,ooo men through the mountain country, but after a ride of 175 miles, he abandoned the plan because of the bad roads. The Confederacy realized the importance of North Carolina mountain passes. Colonel William Holland Thomas of southwestern North Carolina anticipated such a campaign as that planned by Grant. He believed that Lee might wish to use the mountains as a stronghold where he could have an invincible base of operations. Confederate soldiers built roads over the passes through the Great Smoky Mountains, and they controlled the mountain passes toward Tennessee. Early in the war Thomas's Legion of Indians and Highlanders, the Eightieth and Sixtyninth North Carolina regiments, had guarded the bridges between Bristol and Chattanooga, but after the fall of East Tennessee, they fell back on the Smoky Mountains toward Waynesville and Webster. After East Tennessee became Union territory, the Fourteenth �8 / Prologue North Carolina Battalion (Woodfin's Battalion) was created. Originally three companies, it later had six. Its members were Western North Carolinians and its function was to defend the state's borders against invasion and pillage. After Woodfin's death James L. Henry was made Lieutenant Colonel and commander of the battalion. As Henry had only one eye the command was sometimes referred to as the "One-Eyed Battalion." It made raids into Tennessee and used the guerilla methods necessary in mountain fighting. In r864 the defenses of Northwestern North Carolina were very meager. Madison County was patrolled by a cavalry company; while Major Harvey Bingham had two companies in Watauga and a Captain Price had a small company in Ashe. These companies defended the counties against predatory bands from East Tennessee. Yancey and Mitchell counties were virtually undefended. The mountains sheltered fugitives from both armies, who hid by day and raided by night, often in bands of twenty or more. Many prisoners who had escaped from Confederate prisons made their way to the Union lines in Tennessee. Prisoners from Salisbury followed the Y adkin to Wilkes County, said to be the strongest Union county in North Carolina. The Confederates called it "Old United States." The Unionists sheltered and fed the escapees and guided them to Banner Elk where men like Keith Blalock and Harrison Church guided them to Tennessee. Those escaping from the prison at Columbia made their way across South Carolina, through Saluda Gap to Hendersonville and Asheville, where Dan Ellis guided them to Tennessee. One group of prisoners escaping by this route were hidden for four days by the girls of a family near Flat Rock. The father of the girls was a "rebel," the mother a "home Yankee," and the father never learned of the fugitives. Guides for the prisoners roamed the country "sacking" the fine houses and stealing money, jewelry, and silverware. In March r865 the Union army was ready to begin the final campaign of the war. Mobile, the last port in Confederate hands, was being attacked by General E. R. S. Canby. General George Thomas was sending out two powerful expeditions, one under Brevet Major General H. Wilson in Alabama, the other under M~or General George Stoneman toward Lynchburg. General Philip H. Sheridan's cavalry had completed its raid �Prologue / 9 through the Shenandoah Valley and had moved to White House on the Pamunkey. The armies of generals William T. Sherman and John M. Schofield were at Goldsboro. General John Pope was preparing for a spring campaign against Generals Kirby Smith and Sterling Price west of the Mississippi. Grant with the armies of the Potomac and the James confronted General Robert E. Lee, who defended Petersburg and Richmond. Very important was General Stoneman's raid through the mountains of Western North Carolina, Southwestern Virginia, and the piedmont of North Carolina in March and April 1865. General Stoneman, a West Point graduate stationed in Fort Brown, Texas, at the start of the war, refused to surrender to Confederate troops when his immediate superior did. He escaped with his command and continued to serve the Union army as a cavalry commander in West Virginia, under General George B. McClellan, and with the Army of the Potomac. In 1864 as a commander of the cavalry corps in the Atlanta campaign he was captured at Clinton, Georgia. Exchanged, he returned to command under General Thomas in East Tennessee. He conducted a destructive raid against Bristol and Saltville, Virginia, in December 1864. Early in I 865 he was ordered to collect horses and men to destroy the railroad between Bristol and Lynchburg. Participating in Stoneman's raid were three cavalry brigades under Brigadier General Alvan C. Gillem, with brigade commanders Colonel William J. Palmer, Brigadier General Simeon B. Brown, and Colonel John K. Miller. On March 28 General Stoneman notified General Thomas from Boone that he had captured the place, killing nine, capturing sixty-two, and that the raid was a surprise to those on his route. His raid was a surprise. A few weeks earlier, a few Union men had surprised and captured Camp Mast with one company of Home Guards. The other company of Home Guards were surprised by Stoneman. Colonel George Kirk of the United States Army had gathered a regiment of volunteers from the deserters, bushwhackers, and Union sympathizers. In January Kirk had created a diversion up the French Broad River and cleared the mountain region of deserters. Now Kirk barricaded the passes from Blowing Rock and Boone westward. On the day that Kirk arrived in Boone, Lee was evacuating Petersburg and Richmond and was moving toward Lynchburg following the Confederate defeat at Five Forks, and Grant feared that Lee �IO / Prologue might escape to North Carolina by way of the Richmond and Danville Railroad. Stoneman was supposed to prevent Lee's retreat to North Carolina by the railroad or his establishment of a bastion of defense in the mountains. At Boone Stoneman's command separated. Palmer's brigade went by way of Deep Gap to Wilkesboro; Brown's moved by way of Blowing Rock to Patterson's factory on the Yadkin near Lenoir. Here they found an adequate supply of corn and bacon, and Miller's brigade, following, destroyed the factory. The latter brigades joined Palmer's at Wilkesboro where they captured stores and horses and were forced to camp because the Y adkin River was in flood. On March 30 Stoneman's cavalry moved out ofWilkesboro. James Gwyn, whose plantation was passed, said that the raiders took only cattle and horses and that they did little damage. They went thence to Elkin and used up provisions but did not burn the factory or the cotton. September I, 1863, Gwyn had written that Union sympathizers had taken over Wilkesboro but that they would rue the day. They had been influenced by Parson Brownlow's Knoxville Whig and Holden's North Carolina Standard. Now Gwyn pointed out that Stoneman's men did not respect those calling themselves Union men. Gwyn saved some of his cattle by hiding them in the woods. At last the raid on the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad took place. The Union cavalry passed through Dobson and Mount Airy, crossing the Blue Ridge. It captured and burned a Confederate wagon train. Having reached Virginia the forces were divided. It is sufficient here to say that Stoneman's men destroyed the railroad successfully, then, returning to North Carolina they destroyed the Confederate prison at Salisbury (they did not liberate the prisoners, who had already been removed) and large quantities of supplies. Following this they began their return to Tennessee. We take up their activities again as they reached Lenoir on Easter Sunday, April 15. Meanwhile a Union scouting party sent to Asheville on April 4 reported that the roads were barricaded and that 2000 men under General R. B. Vance defended it. The Union commander Colonel Isaac M. Kirby had orders not to participate in a battle. He was engaged in a skirmish about four miles from Asheville and retreated. �Prologue / I I At Lenoir Stoneman's invasion had long been expected.* March 29 reports had come that Yankees were in the Y adkin Valley, on April 7 that Kirk with 300 men occupied Blowing Rock, and on April I3 that Salisbury had been "bummed." On April I 5 Stoneman's men rushed in and camped their prisoners on the grounds of St. James Episcopal Church.t Citizens were invited to feed the prisoners and to move freely among them. Major A. C. A very of a very prominent Burke County family had been captured by chance in Salisbury. In 1864 he had obtained permission to organize a regiment to protect Northwestern North Carolina. The regiment was never organized, but the local companies did become a battalion, and arms, ammunition, and equipment were sent to them by Governor Vance at the request of Major A very. A very had gone to Salisbury to obtain men to join him in an attack on Kirk at Blowing Rock when he was captured. He was taken as a prisoner to Tennessee, but Stoneman did not realize that he had captured Avery. People of Lenoir helped him to conceal his identity by shaving his beard and giving him the clothing of a relative, after which his own men did not recognize him. The Yanks liked the people of Lenoir but called it the "d - est little rebel town." At Lenoir General Stoneman left the command, returning through Watauga County to Tennessee. He reported that the tithing depots had furnished food and that captured horses had made his command better mounted than when it left Knoxville, and "this after crossing Stone Mountain once and the Blue Ridge three times, and a march made by headquarters since the 2oth of last month of 500 miles, and much more by portions of the command." Colonel Palmer was sent to Lincolnton and General Gillem to Morganton. James Gwyn reported of Morganton: "They tore everything to pieces at Uncle Avery's, held pistols to the ladies' heads, drove them out of the house and took what they liked." After Stoneman left the command the plundering and * In her Diary on March 30 Mrs. Ella (G. W.F.) Harper wrote of rumors that ro,ooo Yankees were in the valley, and that they had burned the factory. The next day she expressed fear that Tories would be raiding Lenoir, and that the furniture had been removed from their store for safe keeping. t Mrs. Ella Harper wrote in her Diary "Everyone cooking as much as possible for our poor famished prisoners." �12 / Prologue sacking of houses and mutilations of furnishings increased greatly. General] ames G. Martin with Palmer's Brigade (Confederate) of the 62nd, 64th, and 69th Regiments, a South Carolina battery, and Love's Regiment of Thomas's Legion defended Asheville. On April 24 General Gillem met General Martin under a flag of truce. He promised that if his command were furnished three days' rations it would not molest the country but would peaceably march through and proceed to Tennessee. "The almost starving country" furnished the supplies, but the Yankee army soon returned, terrorized the people, burned houses, and destroyed the armory and all the guns and ammunition they could find. A Negro garrison was left in charge of the town for a year and "burners roamed the countryside for miles around." General Gillem reported the complete surprise of the rebels at every point, and of the entire campaign he enumerated the captures: "25 pieces of artillery ... 2I that they were forced to abandon in Southwest Virginia ... 6ooo prisoners and I7 battle flags." The war was not over yet in Western North Carolina: a part of the "One-eyed Battalion" was in a skirmish as late as May IO. And James Gwyn of Wilkes County wrote in his diary May 4: "We have a quiet time now, our Southern armies are disbanded ... and terms of peace are said to be agreed upon .... All we dread here now is robbers & no doubt there will be plenty of them this summer." By the time that Gwyn wrote the comment about the robbers, depredations in Wilkes County had become a certainty. Fort Hamby came into being shortly after Stoneman and his army left Wilkes County March 3 I, I 86 5. The men who used it and terrorized the surrounding countryside were said to be deserters from Stoneman's forces and "home Yankees" who sympathized with them. Their leader was named Wade, and he was reputed to have been a major under Stoneman. Fort Hamby was not a military fort but a stronghold for the desperate band of criminals who occupied it. The houses belonged to disreputable women named Hamby. After having been occupied by Wade and his men, it was called Fort Hamby. There were two old-fashioned log buildings. The larger was two stories high and was the one used as a fort. The other, about �Prologue / I 3 Clark's N. C. Regiments cites May 1 o as the date of this skirmish PHOTO BY ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . �14 / Prologue thirty feet from the fort, a single story, was used as a kitchen. These buildings were on the north side of the Y adkin near the mouth of Lewis Fork Creek on the top of a hill which overlooked the two streams. This strategic location gave excellent vision from both sides of the fort and made it easily defensible. The men of the fort, heavily armed with the latest type of Union rifles, roamed the countryside for miles about, plundering, robbing, terrorizing the people in Alexander, Caldwell, Wilkes, and Watauga counties. Without compunction they killed women and children. Elated by their strong grip on Wilkes, Wade's men made a raid on Caldwell County May 7; on the Sunday following Major Harvey Bingham and a few men surprised the fort. Wade begged for the lives ofhis men and time for them to dress. While the captors were off guard, the robbers seized their guns which had been concealed near their beds. They killed two of their captors, one the son of General Clark of Caldwell County. The others escaped, leaving the bodies of the two slain men. On Saturday May 13 Wade and his men went into Alexander County to kill Reverend J. B. Green, a former Confederate lieutenant. Forewarned, the Greens and their former slaves repulsed the raiders. On May 14 the second attack was made on the fort by some twenty men under the command of Colonel Wash Sharpe, Colonel C. W. Flowers, and Captain Ellis. James Polk Linney, sixteen, and James Brown, eighteen, were killed. On Tuesday some forty men from Alexander, Iredell, Caldwell, and Wilkes counties surrounded the fort, constructed breastworks and beseiged it during the night. About daybreak Wallace Sharpe sneaked up to the old kitchen at the rear of the house and set it on fire. Wade and the men in the fort came out in apparent surrender. Suddenly Wade bolted through the surrounding line and escaped. The four men who were captured- Beck, Church, Lockwood, and one other- were executed. The fort was burned. It is believed that Wade's band numbered about thirty, of whom about ten actually stayed at the fort with the other members of the band living nearby. With the destruction of Fort Hamby, Wilkes County saw the end of its Civil War strife. In Madison County during the Civil War great hostility was felt between those who favored secession and those who supported the Union. Augustus S. Merriman of Buncombe County was appointed solicitor for the Eighth Judicial District �Prologue / I 5 during the war, and his task of maintaining law and order was difficult. Once when some inhabitants (so-called Union sympathizers) seized the town of Marshall, plundered the stores and committed many acts of violence, one thousand Confederate citizens of Buncombe County formed a posse and hurried to Marshall to punish the marauders. Solicitor Merriman prevailed against this disregard of civil power, and the occasion passed without further incident. Merriman held his courts throughout the war, and persons who committed depredations were brought to trial, imperiling Merriman's life. When he ran for election to be a delegate to the constitutional convention of 1865, former members of Kirk's regiments threatened vengeance and Merriman lost. Later he was elected Judge of the Superior Court for the Eighth Judicial District and upon the convening of court in several counties violence was threatened. In Clay County hundreds of armed men awaited the beginning of an onslaught when the court opened. After a skirmish involving sixty to eighty persons, Judge Merriman directed the sheriff to select and swear in sixty trusted men from both factions, to see that they were armed, and to tell them to shoot the first man guilty of violence with intent to start a general disturbance. A similar occurrence happened at the court in Cherokee. As has been pointed out, many of the pre-war Whigs after serving the Confederate government became Democrats, but since the name Democrat was repugnant to them the party was called the Conservative Party. A Republican Party organization was formed in North Carolina in 1867. It consisted of some former Whigs, many small farmers who had not favored secession, Northerners who came to the state to participate in political affairs, and freedmen. It controlled North Carolina until 1870. From the beginning it was popular in Western North Carolina. Perhaps it is true, as a historian has remarked, that the Western counties did not suffer as much during the years I865-187o as piedmont and eastern counties where there were more Negroes to vote and hold office, but there were trying times. Republicans organized the Union League in the state to campaign for Republicans; and William H. Holden of Raleigh and Tod R. Caldwell of Burke County, Republicans, were elected governor and lieutenant governor respectively in 1868. Terrorist activities of members of such organizations as the Ku Klux Klan and editorial campaigns of newspapers against Holden's administration prompted the governor to call for two regiments of �r6 / Prologue volunteer troops as "detailed militia" to arrest the violence and disturbances which he and his advisers attributed to the Conservatives. George Kirk of Tennessee, leader of Union regiment~ in Western North Carolina during the Civil War, was choser to head one regiment. A circular written by Holden was circulatec in the western part of the state. It read: "Rally Union Men in defense of your state! Rally soldiers of the old N. Carolina 20 and 3d Federal troops! Rally to the standard of the old commander .... rooo recruits are wanted immediately, to serve six months unless sooner discharged. These troops will receive the same pay, clothing and rations as United States regulars. Recruits will be received at Asheville, Marshall, and Burnsville, North Carolina." The so-called "Kirk-Holden war" was part of the political campaign of r870 which did not include the election of governor, whose term had been fixed at four years by the constitution of r868. The election resulted in victory for the Conservatives in the legislative offices: five of the seven North Carolina members of Congress and majorities in both houses of the General Assembly. While the Republicans had controlled the General Assembly the issuing of $27,85o,ooo in bonds for railroad repair and construction was authorized, although only $17,66o,ooo were issued. The bond issues constituted a fraud participated in by some seventeen legislators led by George Swepson and lobbied for by Milton Littlefield. Most of the proceeds were not used for railroad construction. Of the bonds issued, $6,387,000 was authorized for construction of the Western Division of the Western North Carolina Railroad, Asheville to the Tennessee line, and $6r3,000 for the Eastern Division, Salisbury to Asheville. When the Democrats took over the General Assembly in I 870, they authorized a railroad investigation, the findings of which enabled them to impeach Governor Holden and convict him in March 1871 of high crimes and misdemeanors. Tod Caldwell became governor and was reelected in r 872. Upon his death Curtis H. Brogden of Wayne County, Lieutenant Governor, succeeded to the office. Although the Conservatives controlled the General Assembly, Republicans served as governors until 1876. Ku Klux activities subsided in the piedmont by r87r but they continued in several mountain counties, Burke, Polk, McDowell, and Rutherford in a very uncontrollable fashion. Meanwhile Congress had passed the Ku Klux acts and more �Prologue / 17 United States troops were sent into the state. Wholesale arrests were made, and 981 persons were indicted for "Ku Klux depredations" by a federal grand jury in Raleigh. Of the thirtyseven convicted, the most famous Western North Carolinian was Randolph A. Shotwell, Democratic editor of Rutherfordton. J. G. de R. Hamilton, editor of the Shotwell Papers, concluded, "Shotwell was the county chief in Rutherford County, having assumed the position at the request of leading men in the hope of checking the movement. He had never been on a raid and never ordered one and had sought to prevent ... raids. He was convicted on false evidence, fined $5000 and sentenced to six years in Albany." Shotwell was pardoned after two years. Hamilton found that the Klan in Rutherford and Cleveland counties had been used to cover "private vengeance, sheer lawlessness, and in certain cases the activities of certain republicans in violation of the United States Internal Revenue law concerning whiskey.'' The Civil War ended, but the bitterness between opposing factions lasted for years. The acrimony over Reconstruction was perhaps not as violent in Western North Carolina as in Eastern North Carolina, but the impact of both the war and the Reconstruction that followed it are still evident in the partisan rivalry that exists between Democrats and Republicans in the mountain counties. Moreover it is believed by many that those constituting the Democratic power structure in the state resented the fact that Western North Carolina was a divided region during the war, and that they have discriminated against those in the mountains by limiting appropriations that would aid the economy. Much has been written about the mountain people for the last hundred years or more. Perhaps the description by Randolph A. Shotwell of the people in Rutherford County in the late r86o's is as good as any. He saw four different groups: (r) families of wealth, intelligence, and cultivation - they were the ex-slave holders, who educated their children at distant schools, and owned large tracts of land; (2) those who lived in substantial frame or log dwellings and enjoyed "good living" although their members had little education; (3) log cabin dwellers who owned only a few acres and lived in one-room structures, with �I8 / Prologue little furniture, and who had in money no more than twenty dollars in a year, hunting and fishing supplementing the products of the garden patch to provide the family's food; (4) those who owned little or no land and who lived in complete ignorance of the outside world. Shotwell included in this group the illicit distillers who lived in the wildest woodlands and operated three-gallon stills in the most secluded places. For those who lived on the hills and in the coves, frontier conditions persisted and poverty was widespread, yet many descendants of the first settlers remained. They stayed because of the beautiful scenery and the healthful climate. The rolling hills, the green valleys, and the lofty mountains covered with laurel, rhododendron, hemlock, balsam, pine, oak, and chestnut made Western North Carolina one of nature's wonderlands. They loved their native area, its beauty and its freedom. Julius Caesar was right in writing "Mountaineers are always free." Life in the villages and towns of Western North Carolina was not very different from that of rural villages in other parts of the state. These people were not mountaineers as the term is usually used; neither were the gentry, those on large valley farms, to be considered mountaineers. Keeping in touch with kinfolk throughout the piedmont they participated in local government and the General Assembly, educated their sons for the professions such as law and medicine, and entertained in the Southern manner. When Arnold Toynbee wrote, " ... in the heart of our Western Society's 'New World' of North America, there is today a large and widespread population of English and Lowland Scottish origin, with a Protestant Western Christian social heritage, which has been unmistakably and profoundly barbarized by being marooned in the Appalachian backwoods ... " he could not have been referring to the farmers who developed the holdings at the mouths of the rivers and large streams, who built two-story log houses which as time went on they enlarged or replaced with fine brick homes, many of which are still standing in Caldwell, Burke, McDowell, Rutherford, and Polk counties. These families were large, and marriages were made to preserve the link between the households of mountain valleys and the piedmont. Most of the prosperous families had owned slaves. Dr. Edward M. Phifer made a study of the slaveholding families in Burke County. He found that in I 86o, "921 families engaged in farming, 548 of the families were landowners, 9 were listed �Prologue / I 9 " Magnolia," one of the elegant ante-bellum homes in Burke County as owning as many as 300 improved acres, 3 8% of the 548 landowners were slaveholders, I6o/o of the slaveholders owned only one slave each, 6o family heads owned Ioo or more slaves, 26% of the population was slave." He explained, "The ScotchIrish and German upcountrymen turned to legalism, already a component of their thought process, to justify the institution of slavery." Those who owned slaves were professional people, church officers, farmers, and merchants. A Methodist minister William Fullwood owned as many as nineteen slaves at one time, and in I 8so the Presbyterian minister at Quaker Meadows, John McKamie Wilson, Jr., had ten slaves. Many of the slaveholders had occupations unassociated with agriculture. The slaves worked in shops, engaged in household manufacturing, gold mining and railroad construction as well as agriculture. Slaves were considered a good investment, liquid assets, and some slaveowners are not known to have owned any land. Dr. Phifer's description of slaveholding in Burke County can no doubt be applied to the other counties ofWestern North Carolina. The Population Table shows how many slaves were held in each county in r8so. The leading families of I85o were still the dominant element in the population of I877. For the persons usually characterized as mountaineers, who �POPULATION TABLE Counties White N 1850 Free Negro 188o Slave White Colored 1950 Total 1960 Total 1970 Total 0 4' C) Alleghany Ashe Avery Buncombe Burke Caldwell Cherokee Clay Graham Haywood Henderson Jackson Macon Madison McDowell Mitchell Polk Rutherford Surry Swain Transylvahia Watauga Wilkes Yancey 8,096 II,6oi 5.477 s,oo6 5.493 5.931 5.892 s,6I3 4.777 I0,425 I6,I7I 3,242 10,746 7.908 Created in 1859 86 Created in 191 I 107 163 108 8 Created in 186I Created in I872 IS 37 Created in I85I I06 Created in I851 207 Created in I 86 I Created in I855 220 272 Created in I87I Created in I861 29 2II so 595 I,7I7 2,132 1,203 337 4I8 924 549 I,262 2,905 2,000 I29 1,142 346 4.967 13,478 519 958 18,424 I0,090 8,688 3.486 2,721 I,6oo 386 I43 212 484 1,385 749 668 457 1,899 503 1,143 3,273 2,067 549 517 409 I,923 325 7.796 3,I73 2,I23 9.787 8,895 6,594 7.396 I2,353 7,037 8,932 3,920 II,925 13,234 3.236 4,823 7.75I I7,258 7.368 8,155 21,878 13,352 124,403 45.518 43.352 18,294 6,oo6 6,886 37.631 30,92I I9,26I I6,I74 20,522 25,720 I5,143 II,627 46.356 45.593 9.92I IS,I94 I8,342 45,243 I6,306 7.6oo 19,100 u,6oo 132,400 54.900 5I,200 15,800 5,300 6,300 43.300 37.700 17,300 I4,500 I6,200 27,000 I3,500 II,300 44.810 48,8oo 8,ooo I6,6oo I7.300 45,IOO 13,300 8,134 19,571 12,655 145,056 6o,364 56,699 I6,330 5,I80 6,562 41,710 42,804 2I,593 IS,788 I6,003 30,648 I3,447 II,735 47.337 51,4I5 7,86I I9,713 23,404 49.524 12,629 ~ :;:: "' �Prologue / 2I lived in the more remote coves and valleys and on the steep hillsides, life did not change much, even after the tum of the century, because new means of transportation did not reach them. Dr. Benjamin Washburn, who grew up in Rutherfordton, and who after completing his medical training practiced medicine in the upper part of Rutherford County early in the twentieth century, in the South Mountains, wrote: "It seemed to me that to go from the lowland section of the county into the South Mountains, although the distance was only about thirty miles, was to pass into a different world - a world which showed stage-by-stage changes in civilization which had been going on in our Appalachian hills since the early years of the nineteenth century .... As I became better acquainted with the people I found it hard to realize that the South Mountain folks and those of the lower part of our county were descended from the same English and Scotch ancestors. This was all the more interesting because I was related to many of these mountain families, one of my grandmothers having come from this section." Washburn called the South Mountains "a picturesque section with simple, loyal, homeloving families." Cecil Sharp, an Englishman who came to the Appalachians to collect mountain ballads, found the people "leisurely, cheery, ... in their quiet way, ... with a very highly developed social instinct. They dispense hospitality with openhanded generosity and are extremely interested in and friendly toward strangers, communicative and unsuspicious .... They have an unaffected bearing and the unselfconscious manners of the well-bred." The one other group in the population of Western North Carolina was the Cherokee Indians. Following a treaty with the United States at New Echota in I835, for a money payment and land in present-day Oklahoma the Indians reluctantly ceded their remaining land in the East, and in I 838 their removal began. Many Cherokees opposed the treaty and some hid out in the mountains; while others stole away from the procession and returned to the mountains with numerous white families befriending them. In I839 there were about one thousand living in the Smokies. William Holland Thomas, a trader, went to Washington to negotiate permission for them to remain in North Carolina. With their share of the treaty money Thomas bought a tract of land in his own name since North Carolina had passed a law forbidding Indians to own land. The area situated on the Oconaluftee River became known as the Qualla Boundary. It contained about 50,000 acres. Other small tracts �22 / Prologue including one in present-day Graham County brought the total to about 65,000 acres. When after the Civil War Thomas lost all of his personal fortune, the federal government repurchased the land and in 1875 the Indian Office assumed direct control of the affairs of the band. Formal title to the Qualla Reservation and outlying tracts was granted to the Eastern Cherokees in 1876, and in 1889 they became a corporation under the laws ofNorth Carolina. The Cherokees have long been known as thrifty, hardworking people. A traveler through the Qualla Reservation wrote in I 892 that the village of Yellow Hills was "beautiful ... , neat, orderly, and picturesque. We have gone through the Qualla Cherokee Reservation, down its most populous valley, through its roughest and most picturesque scenery. Coming through, by way of their thoroughfare and by their churches, we have seen most of the population in their Sunday dress and holiday garb, men, women, and children. We have seen their houses and farms, and visited them at home .... This Monday mom, we have seen the native at work - the red man, actually at work - driving oxen, reaping, mowing, one actually running a reaper - shades of McCormick! We have passed by and seen a road-working party. Every Indian we have seen this morning has been at work. They are in their work-a-day attire and even in that they are well dressed." Chapter One, "On Main Traveled Roads," reveals a county by county view of the more or less normal lives, the places, and the leaders, I877-188o. Superior Court Judge David Schenck traveled from county to county, met the professional people, the hotel keepers, the leaders of the communities. Interwoven with his account are descriptions of the sports, the churches, the schools, to give a picture of the life of the substantial people of the region. Chapter Two, "Off the Beaten Path," describes the life and customs of the poorer mountain people who lived in the coves and on the ridges. They are the mountaineers of the stereotype created by the outlanders and writers of fiction. A traveler in the mountains would see a man who was tall, lean, emaciated, poorly dressed, and think that he was seeing a typical mountaineer. These accounts introduce topics whose histories will be narrated in subsequent chapters. �PART ONE The People and Their Homeland 23 ��CHAPTER ONE On Main Traveled Roads To a resident of one of the western counties, the holding of the superior court was of major importance, and the county government seemed more significant than the national one because to it they were more closely related. When a new county was created by the General Assembly that body would appoint a group of commissioners to select a site for the county seat, purchase the land (sometimes it was contributed by an interested landholder) and lay it out in lots, setting aside the amount needed for the courthouse and jail and selling the remaining lots to businessmen and householders. Thus the county seat developed into a service center for the county, with the usual businessmen: general merchants, tanners, millers, distillers, carpenters, cattle dealers, and in some cases a drug store. Churches and schools grew gradually, and one or more hotels were built to accommodate the judge, the lawyers, and the people from the outlying parts of the county during court week. Burke County, the parent of many western counties, has a rich and interesting history centering around its courthouse. It was the earliest seat of justice and law in Western North Carolina. For a while the Supreme Court of the state held its summer sessions in Morganton, the county seat. Colonel Lusk, an Asheville lawyer, when he was ninety-two in 1928, reminisced that there had been a time when Asheville was jealous of Morganton. Burke County's third courthouse, which is still in use, was begun in 1833 and was under construction for several years. It was made 25 �26 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland Burke County's historic courthouse ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Aerial view of Burnsville, county seat of Yancey County today HUGH MORTON PHOTO �On Main Traveled Roads / 27 of native stone which was later covered with concrete. It served not only as a courthouse but as a center for every kind of gathering. For example, when a group of citizens and their slaves assembled in I 849 to join those who rushed to California to find gold, they met and left from this venerable courthouse. The English and the Scotch-Irish settlers and their descendants have always been proud of their system of law that was transplanted into the North Carolina mountains in the eighteenth century by their ancestors. This heritage of English common law and legal justice was centered around the courthouses. When highways came they were designed to run from county seat to county seat. The courthouse was to the county seat what the cathedral was to a medieval city: it expressed the hopes and aspirations of the people. It was the heart's core of the western counties, the shaper ofhuman lives and destinies. It was the center of government and authority. It brought order and system to wilderness Carolina. It was the focal point of the social life, the occasion when those from one cove could meet and gossip with their neighbors from other coves and ridges, whom they had not seen for months. It gave to the mountaineer who loved litigation the joy of indicting someone. With the limited opportunities for recreation and social experiences, trials and court cases gave excitement and spice to his life. Charles Dudley Warner and other writers have described how the people in the mountains would gather in the county seats for court week. They came to meet their friends and relatives, to buy and sell, and to barter their home-grown products for store-bought-goods, needed supplies of salt, coffee, medicines, and tools. As soon as their business was transacted, they gathered in front of the courthouses. They would chew tobacco, spit, dip snuff, and drink liquor. The towns would be full of their buggies, their covered wagons, which were really tents on wheels, used as conveyances and as beds. Often they were loaded with apples, produce, or barrels of hard cider. There were always several wagons near the court. Cider, ginger cakes, maple sugar, and whiskey were sold.* * "The A.S. Merriman Journal," North Carolina Historical Review, VIII, 300-330, gives the best account of court week in Western North Carolina, full of detail, such as the following: "Scores of women attend this court [Madison County] for the sole purpose of drinking and pandering to the lustful passions of dirty men." The judge had to order the whiskey wagons off the court house grounds so that court might proceed. �28 J Part I: The People and Their Homeland The administration of the law was not always just, but it was exciting. Spring and fall, court week was the magnet to draw all to the county seats. The judges and lawyers came on horseback or when possible in buggies- those who rode the circuit- "old pettifoggers, young shysters, and brilliant, neat attorneys." Alexis de Toqueville remarked more than a century ago that in the United States every major problem ends in a law suit. The law was so often used to subvert justice that many people doubted its fairness, yet most men believed that the law was good if men used it lawfully. The folklore of the law is that if a murdered man has called the murderer a bastard or a son of a bitch, the jury will often acquit the murderer. If his lawyer or the murderer convinces the jury that the victim brushed his hip or his coattail as if reaching for a weapon, he may be acquitted. If the lawyer can show that the victim has been intimate with the murderer's wife, the accused will be acquitted under the "w1written law." Mountain people are far more peaceful than writers of fiction would have their readers believe. There have been and still are "pockets of riffraff." But violence was not limited to the "riffraff." Some of the most prominent families in Western North Carolina numbered among their members those who had killed or had died at gun point. Dr. Robert B. Vance of Buncombe County, in 1827, defeated by Samuel P. Carson for election to the United States House of Representatives, remarked that Colonel John Carson, father of Samuel, had been a Tory during the American Revolution. Samuel Carson denounced Vance as a liar, and other bitter remarks led Carson to challenge Vance to a duel, which was fought in Tennessee. Vance was killed by Carson's bullet. William Waightstill Avery of Burke County, the eldest child of Isaac Avery, was a distinguished North Carolinian, but he shot and killed a legal opponent, Sam Fleming, in I 85 I. Earlier Fleming had horsewhipped A very, and although Fleming was unarmed A very shot him in the courtroom from a distance of five feet. A very was tried and acquitted on grounds of temporary insanity. The jury deliberated only ten minutes. This case illustrates the fact that a man could kill an unarmed man and be acquitted. This incident had little effect upon Avery's subsequent career. In 1852 he was again elected to the legislature and in 1856 to the state Senate and became its speaker. In I 86o he was chairman of theN orth Carolina delegation to the Democratic convention. In spite of his skill as a public speaker he was defeated as a candidate for Congress �On Main Traveled Roads / 29 Franklin, Macon County seat, surrounded by mountains HUGH MORTON PHOTO Brevard, Transylvania County seat HUGH M O RTON PHOTO �30 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland by Zebulon Baird Vance in 1858. He was active in organizing the Western North Carolina Railroad and became one of its directors in 1857. In r86o he was again elected to the state Senate. He later served in the Confederate Provisional Congress. He died July 3, 1864, of a wound received in pursuit of Kirk's raiders. Judge David Schenck held court between 1877 and r88o in most of the county seats in Western North Carolina. If we follow him around the circuit, we gain a rare view of a region about which he had experienced much concern. He wrote on December 29, 1879, "Since the 24th of August ... I have been toiling over the great mountains and the Circuit that I dreaded more than any other in the state has ended, and ended peacifully." He commented briefly on social activities, remarked about politics and leading citizens. He shared with his diary the scenic high points and the difficulty of travel in the mountainous areas. His remarks touched upon numerous people and places which will be dealt with at greater length in other chapters. Schenck was elected on the Democratic ticket - the first Democrat elected by the general public to preside over a superior court in theW estern District. The Reconstruction constitution drawn up and adopted in 1868 provided for popular election of judges (formerly they were chosen by the General Assembly). An amendment added in I 875 required their rotation from district to district. In 1876 the Democratic Party won almost complete control of North Carolina. At the beginning of the 1877 court sessions, Judge Schenck traveled from his home in Lincoln County to Newton by buggy. There he took a train to Morganton, arriving almost simultaneously with the new era since the railroad had been completed beyond Morganton to Old Fort. A county seat and a railroad town, Morganton was one of the centers of growth in Western North Carolina. Burke County had a population of 12,809, about three tenths Negro. It was one-third mountainous, the balance in rolling hills and valleys. W. C. Erwin, lawyer and promoter of the county to northern capitalists, called the area "a country that has fertile soil, hospitable people, magnificent scenery, a perfect climate, vast mineral wealth, abundant water power, great forests of pine and the hard woods, and immunity from droughts and blizzards and unseasonable frosts." Morganton had 861 persons. �On Main Traveled Roads / 3 r Upper class travelers in the 187o's shared the road Asheville was the center of trade for a large area �32 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland There were two hotels. Judge Schenck chose the Mountain Hotel, kept by Dr. ]. M. Hoppeldt, where the cooking was "equal to any I ever saw- steaks an inch thick, rare and so tender and juicy that it almost melts in your mouth." John Gray Bynum, a popular lawyer, was the judge's host for Sunday dinner - the menu, ham and chicken, all kinds of vegetables, and dessert of peaches, watermelons, and cakes of different kinds. As the Bynums took boarders, there were ten person at dinner. The judge was looking forward to winning other political honors, and he felt that his charge to the court on Monday made a good impression. The lawyers were Colonel Burgess S. Gaither, A. C. Avery,]. S. Bynum, Alfred Erwin, and S. C. W. Tate. James M. Gudger was solicitor. Cam Pearson, the clerk, was a Radical. Colonel Gaither was the "leader and father" of the Burke County Bar, and Major A. C. Avery was the leader of the Democratic Party there. Burke County had a number of fine old plantation mansions including Belvedere and Bellevue, both Erwin family homes, and Swan Ponds, built by Waightstill Avery, part of the house dating back to the late eighteenth century, and lived in by generations of A verys. Quaker Meadows is one of the most attractive farming areas in Burke County, and a number of ante-bellum brick houses remained, remnants of prosperous times before the Civil War. Many of these houses are still in a good state of preservation. If the judge had been interested in the economic life of the region he would have reported that the county had the following businesses: I 5 blacksmiths; 3 cattle dealers and 4,4ro head of cattle; 2 coopers; 5 distillers (licensed) ; 3 fertilizer agents ; I insurance agent; 2 livery stables; 2 lumber dealers; 8 flour and grist mills; 2 millwrights; I mine for asbestos; 6 or 7 gold mines; a Democratic newspaper, the Blue Ridge Blade; 4 tanners; 2 tobacco manufacturers; 2 watchmakers; 3 boot and shoe manufacturers; and six physicians. On the farms, 752 acres were planted in cotton, 58 acres in tobacco, 22,6I3 in corn, 8 in rice, 1,654 in rye, and ro,or6 in wheat. Of schools there were fifty-two for white children and fifteen for Negroes. In addition there were two academies and one college. Methodist churches predominated, with thirteen Methodist Episcopal South, nine Methodist Episcopal (northern), one African Methodist Episcopal, three Methodist Episcopal Zion, and one Methodist Protestant. The others were one Episcopal, three Presbyterian, and four �On Main Traveled Roads / 3 3 Baptist. In a later chapter all of these denominations will be discussed. In the northern part of Burke County were several tourist attractions: Hawksbill at the top of Jonas Ridge, and Table Rock, both of which attracted excursionists; Linville Falls, formed by a shelf of rock and a drop of ninety feet, from the base of which the Linville Gorge runs south about twelve miles between Jonas Ridge and Linville Mountain. This wild and rugged ravine never failed to charm the energetic souls who rode horseback llP its course. At Linville Falls the Franklins, descendants of John, brother of Benjamin Franklin, who have lived for generations at the falls, served as guides and also "took travelers" overnight. The last half mile of the trek to the gorge could be covered only on foot. The South Mountains fill the southern third of the county, and the Blue Ridge cuts across the northwest corner. The South Mountains create a "thermal belt" where frost is infrequent. They run nearly parallel with the Blue Ridge for about forty-five miles, extending through parts of Burke, McDowell, Rutherford, and Polk counties. They were sparsely settled but in some places were farmed to the very peaks. On a plateau three hundred feet higher than Morganton was Glen Alpine - a glen with four mineral springs- almost surrounded by mountains. Twelve miles from Morganton, seven miles from the railroad but with regular hack service, Glen Alpine Springs had a large hotel which attracted visitors, and for those who wanted to explore some of the peaks of the Blue Ridge it was conveniently located. The waters were believed to be healthful. Piedmont Springs, ten miles north of Morganton, was another resort. Following his two weeks in Burke County the judge was to hold court in McDowell County, and Major James W. Wilson, president of the Western North Carolina Railroad, furnished an extra train to carry the members of the bar to Marion on Sunday evening, the party consisting of Colonel Gaither, Major Avery, Solicitor Gudger, and Judge Schenck. The judge chose to stay at the Fleming House. Marion was a town of 372 persons, with businesses similar to those of Morganton. At the old Erwin mansion on the Catawba River three miles from Marion lived Major E. A. M. Erwin and his maiden sisters, �34 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland Misses Matilda and Mary Ann Erwin. Schenck wrote, "The ladies are the finest specimen of that splendid race of people who inhabited this luxuriant valley, but whose fortunes have been swept away by the desolation of a war leaving them little else than honor, grace, dignity, intelligence and the love of the Presbyterian faith to solace them in their misfortune. This family however have left them a fine farm and entertain sumptuously and delightfully." One of the most famous and handsome houses in McDowell County was the Carson House, situated on the banks of Buck Creek near the Catawba River. Built in 1810, for many years it had been a stopping place for Brown's line of stages that ran from Marion to Asheville. Since the Western North Carolina Railroad had been completed beyond Old Fort in 1877, the stage line had been discontinued between Marion and Old Fort, but summer visitors frequently made a night's stop at the Carson House before continuing northward toward North Cove and the Linville Gorge. Advertised rates at the Carson House were as follows: man and horse, $1.50 per day; single person, $7.00 per week; single person, $25 per month. J. L. Carson advertised, "Much attention has been paid to beautifying the grounds and the house has been well fitted up." Judge Schenck's political ambition was gratified by the interest and approval shown him in each county seat. He wrote of his reception in Marion, "The people as far as I heard were delighted and expressed themselves decidedly for me." The next stop on the circuit was Henderson County. To reach it the judge traveled by train from Marion to Henry's, the inn near Old Fort at the end of the railroad in I 877, and there he and the solicitor spent the night. The next morning they took the four horse stage coach for Asheville, had dinner there at three P.M., and continued on the same stage to Hendersonville, where they stayed at the Henry Hotel. Judge Schenck was an admirer of the mountain scenery. In Hendersonville some of the most prominent citizens called on him: William Miller, B. T. Morris, Captain]. M. Toms, and others. As he organized the court he noted that the Democrats were "satisfied." Although the officers of the court were Republican- C. M. Pace, clerk, and Jonathan Williams, sheriffSchenck was "constrained to say they are very good officers, especially the sheriff, who is a nice clever gentleman .... He is the first Radical I ever had any respect for, and he disclaimed �On Main Traveled Roads J 3 5 being a full blood, is only tainted enough to get office from the party." Colonel H. T. Farmer, who operated the famous old inn built in 1853 at Flat Rock (still serving the public in 1972 as the Woodfield Inn) sent for Judge Schenck to spend the night. Colonel Taylor took the judge out in his buggy, and on the way they drove around among the magnificent summer residences, about twenty-five of them, each in a park-like tract of from sixty to one hundred acres, that had been owned and occupied each year during the summer season by prominent South Carolina families. Flat Rock may well claim to be Western North Carolina's first resort center. The Saluda Mountains are a spur of the Blue Ridge and are the boundary between North and South Carolina. Hendersonville was built on a smooth bench of land about halfway up the Blue Ridge Mountains. Between Hendersonville and Saluda Gap were fine farms and orchards, especially of peaches and apples. Schenck returned to Asheville September 2, 1877, and registered at the Eagle Hotel, room 3 5· The Honorable Thomas Lanier Clingman was staying in room 36, just across the hall, and the two men spent hours together daily. Clingman had enjoyed a long political life and knew "most of the distinguished statesmen and politicians of this age." He had practiced law around the whole of the Western Circuit when there were only four lawyers of any prominence in the mountain counties and they all went the rounds with the judge. Beginning with membership in the legislature he went on to serve fourteen years in the United States House of Representatives and three and one-half in the Senate before the state seceded. The Eagle Hotel was operated by James Patton and was the stopping place for the stage coaches over the Swannanoa Gap and from Greenville, South Carolina. ]. H. Gudger's Buck Hotel, in the center of Asheville, was the coach stop for the stage that ran from South Carolina via Saluda Gap and Hendersonville. This route Judge Schenck found not very scenic, but it was nevertheless the most comfortable to travel. A third hotel, the Buncombe, was the choice of many because it was apart from the busiest section of town. There were five other less-known hotels. �36 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland Farmer's Inn, now Woodfield Inn ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Asheville, the only city in Western North Carolina, had about 2,100 people and twenty-three attorneys. The sheriff, Levi Plemmons, was a Democrat, but the clerk, J. H. R eed, was a Radical. J. M . Gudger, the solicitor, accompanied Schenck on the circuit. The judge felt even before holding court in Asheville that his prospects there were flattering. Leaders Thomas D. Johnson, H. B. Carter, and C. M. McLoud gave him "every assurance that the bar here are for me and the people evidently are my best friends. If I get through successfully next week, I think all will be well.'' As was his custom in each county he served, Schenck made sightseeing trips in Buncombe, socializing with all he met. He wrote, "Beau Catcher, a small mountain which overlooks the little city of Asheville and commands quite a fine view .. . is the resort of the 'Beau Catcher' and the 'Beauty lovers' every evening, who drive there, ride there, and walk there and do their courting there. Old Folks are tolerated too, so I went up the other evening and witnessed from it a most glorious sunset. But old as I am, I admired the round limbs and tapering waists and merry faces of the girls more than the grandeur of the mountains in the distance . . . . Such is the frailty of poor mankind - a slave to woman, no matter how silly, if she has a pretty face and ankle." �On Main Traveled Roads / 37 Buncombe County had the largest population of any of the mountain counties, 21,209, of whom 3,487 were Negroes. There were thirty-four post offices and sixty churches, Methodist predominating. There were sixteen Methodist Episcopal South, ten Methodist Episcopal (northern), one African Methodist Episcopal, one African Methodist Episcopal Zion, eight Methodist Protestant, twelve Baptist and three Free Will Baptist, five Presbyterian in the U.S. (southern), one Presbyterian U.S.A. (northern), one Disciples of Christ, two Episcopal, two Missionary Episcopal, and one Roman Catholic, the only Catholic church in the entire area. Asheville had a public library on the fourth floor of the court house. Private schools were Asheville Female College (sometimes listed as the Female High School), Asheville Male Academy, Montanic Institute. Elsewhere in the county were Black Mountain High School, Weaverville College, Hominy Academy at Hominy Creek, and Leicester Academy. The Asheville Female Academy is said to have attracted students from Maine to Florida with its four year course. The businesses in Asheville were more specialized than in other towns. Thirty-four general merchants operated stores, but in addition there were two bakers, one restaurant, two booksellers and stationers, two photographers, two banks, one furniture store, three druggists, and three barbers. There were eleven wheelwrights, thirteen grist mills, six sawmills, two woolen mills, three millwrights, and one marble-working establishment, five lumber dealers and eleven carpenters and builders. Asheville had two tobacco warehouses, as in the late seventies most of the mountain counties were having a try at growing tobacco, the bright-leaf variety. The effort was abandoned in a few years and not until the late 192o's was burley tobacco introduced in the region. The two newspapers, the Asheville Pioneer and the Asheville Citizen, were weeklies. The Citizen (Democratic) had been published since r869 with Randolph A. Shotwell as its first editor. Calvin H. Wiley in his North Carolina Reader (1868), said, "Some of you will be surprised to find Asheville a place of much intelligence and refinement." The cosmopolitan air was created by those who had come there for their health. Rebecca Harding Davis, who traveled in the Southern Highlands during the 187o's wrote, "There is a sanatorium in the little town Asheville which �38 f Part I: The People and Their Homeland View of Asheville from Beau catcher Mountain, a favorite rendezvous of young Lovers Countless hogs and other animals were driven through Asheville to South Carolina markets. Other traffic had to give way �On Main Traveled Roads / 39 is becoming a Mecca for consumptives." In addition to the eight hotels in Asheville there were flourishing inns on all the turnpikes leading into town- Smather's at Turnpike, Alexander's at Alexander, and the Reagan House at Weaverville were all well known. Smather's Inn contained forty rooms. John C. Smathers had started it with ten rooms but his business had flourished. Here he furnished grain and roughage, a fenced enclosure for stock, with pasturage ; had a mill, a blacksmith shop, a carpenter shop, and served travelers, drovers, and their livestock. The inn was crowded with "hundreds and thousands of horses, mules, hogs, and cattle" driven on foot, and was a stopping place for stage coaches and private vehicles carrying tourists and business men. Alexander's had been in operation since the Buncombe Turnpike was completed in I 828 when James Mitchell Alexander of Asheville bought and improved a place on the right bank of the French Broad River, ten miles from Asheville, for a hotel and mercantile business. The hotel was in use as long as the turnpike was the highway for interstate travel. Another Alexander's was ten or twelve miles H ardy travelers stopped here on the ascent of the hig hest mountain in Eastern A merica �40 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland east of Asheville; it was a long-famed wayside house. This Mr. Alexander was characterized by one visitor as "a hale sprightly young man of eighty, who, like all other farmers in the mountains 'took in' travelers, gave them an excellent supper and comfortable beds, and sent them on the next day." The resorts Haywood White Sulphur Springs, Warm Springs (now Hot Springs), and Asheville complemented each other, guests stopping at one for a few days, then riding by stage coach to another. A popular horseback excursion route from Asheville ran up Reem's Creek to Weaverville and Elk Mountain. Weaverville had a college, one of the four in Western North Carolina. The Weavers were early comers, and it has been estimated that thirty percent of the early settlers in the valley north of Asheville were related to them. Adventurous visitors to Asheville made the ascent to Mount Mitchell. Leaving the main road to Marion at Alexander's, up the narrow valley of the North Fork, headwaters of the Swannanoa, the explorer would reach the foot of Mount Mitchell the first day. The night would be spent at Glass's, the roomy cabin of a family that accommodated strangers. The vehicles were left, the rest of the trip being made on horseback. A pack horse would be used to carry supplies for twenty-four hours: blankets, rugs, and food. From Glass's to the summit of Mount Mitchell was a very steep and difficult twelve miles of trail. A rest stop could be made half way up at the ruins of the once famous Mountain House which had been built many years earlier. Above that point were unending forests of balsam and fir, the latter growing in perfect cone shapes, their bases meeting in close thickets, giving the mountains their name, the Black Mountains. Along the trail great boulders and fallen trees heightened the adventure for the mountain climber. During the course of Judge Schenck's travels on the circuit he was accompanied part of the time by Mrs. Schenck and at other times by his daughter Lucy. They were ecstatic over the mountain scenery. The judge employed the owner of a nice carriage to take Mrs. Schenck and himself from Asheville to Burnsville, where he had a choice of two inns or boarding houses. He chose Sol W. Carter's hotel. The other was owned by the versatile G. D. Ray, who also owned a mica mine, a saw mill �On Main Traveled Roads / 41 Climbers camped overnight before the descent from Mount Mitchell at Ivy Gap, and a flour and grist mill in Burnsville. He was a druggist, a tanner, a general merchant, and one of the principal farmers in the county. Eight mica mines were being worked in the county and mica from the mine of G. D. Ray was exhibited at the World's Fair in Vienna. This sparsely settled county of 7,694 persons was a grazing area, and there were eight cattle dealers who bought up cattle from the farmers and had them driven to market in South Carolina or Tennessee, where there were rail connections. The Black Mountains run through the center of Yancey County, and while parts of this range were forested with heavy timber, other parts were in native grasses. About one-half mile from the summit of Mount Mitchell was a piece of tableland one-half mile wide, a natural pasture. The W estern North Carolina Land Company which advertised this �42 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland area for sale boasted, "Hundreds of cattle fatten here in summer. Herbs and flowers abound, as do wild fruits." The company was offering a site about half way up Mount Mitchell as "a terrace ideal for a sanatorium." The name Boon (as the family in that county spelled it at the time) was constantly in Judge Schenck's mind during the stay in Burnsville. The case of Thomas Boon who had been convicted of murder a year before had been appealed, and while he had not fired the fatal shot, the court found him guilty of aiding and abetting the murderer. Sam Boon, father of Thomas, appeared in court as a witness. Among the nine blacksmiths in Yancy County was Macdaniel Boon. In that family it was and has continued to be traditional for each generation to provide at least one blacksmith. Court closed in Burnsville in time for the judge to enjoy a fox chase with the Aliens. He borrowed a horse from his landlord and with three of the Allens and their six well trained dogs rode to the foot of Green Mountain. The trail was fresh and the dogs were sent in pursuit of "Reynard." The men rode around to an eminence from which they could hear the race. Schenck wrote, "In ten minutes after the trail was struck the pack was in full cry and the music glorious. They ran in a circumference of a mile or two around us where we could hear the 'cry' all the time. The race was 'fast and furious' for forty minutes when the fox was pressed so closely that he put into a cliff of rocks but out of this the Allens soon forced him to retreat by means of poles and as he jumped from [the] cavern the race was renewed with increased noise and speed, and continued for ten minutes longer until Reynard was overtaken and our chase was over." But a much more exciting hunt was about to occur. The telegraph line to Asheville had just been completed. From Marion Schenck had telegraphed for permission from a Mr. Murchison in Raleigh to have some sport on Murchison's Black Mountain lands, 1 3,ooo acres on the south side of the Black Mountain that had been posted to forbid trespassing. Murchison had bought the land at sheriff's sale that year for $2,200, to use as a timber and game preserve. (In 1909 it was sold for $225,000.) "Big Tom Wilson" had become a legend in his own day as a guide and hunter. He was now fifty-six years old. He lived nine miles south of Burnsville. Schenck,]. M. Gudger, Schenck's landlord Carter, and Wilson Allen of the preceding hunt, went �On Main Traveled Roads / 43 on horseback to Tom Wilson's, had noonday dinner, and were at the forks of the two Caney rivers two and one-half miles from Big Tom's by two o'clock. Mrs. Schenck and Mrs. Gudger followed to the Wilsons in a buggy and waited for the hunt to be over. The first day the party killed a big stag and had " a keen relish for another day's sport." At 8:30 the next morning Gudger and Schenck stood about 200 yards above the Forks, where they had a clear view as the other hunters climbed the mountain for a drive. Their wait was rewarded, for at ten o'clock a beautiful Big Tom Wilson, twenty years before judge Schenck met him, had become famo us for his discovery of the body of Elisha Mitchell, scientist and professor �44 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland doe came galloping down the stream. After killing the deer, wrote Schenck, "We had a general jollification and gathering up and after the hunters had hop passed the deer [tied the feet together and suspended it from a pole] the party fished for speckled trout and Wilson Allen killed two beautiful pheasants. Big Tom went to a mountain orchard and filled his hat and pockets with October peaches, large white freestones, and brought them down for the party to feast on". That night appetites were keen and the venison and trout and good corn bread were acceptable to all. After supper the party sat around the fire while Big Tom told yarns, bear tales, fishing tales, and adventure tales of all kinds. One of the tales was of how on the rugged cliffs of the Black he killed a small bear (125 pounds) and five raccoons. These, with a rifle weighing eleven pounds, he had to carry down the mountain. He "hoppassed" the "coons" on a grape vine and strung them around his shoulders, three on one side and two on the other. Then he tied the fore feet of the bear together and ran his head between, with the bear on his back. With his left hand he held the two hind paws to keep the bear's weight from choking him. In his right hand he carried the gun. Big Tom believed, and most southerners agree, that "coon" meat is the best of all wild game. (Big Tom was the mountain man who found the body of Dr. Elisha Mitchell for whom the mountain had been named.) At night the party slept "in true mountain fashion." A room with several beds was shared by the Gudgers and the Schencks. A tallow candle was the only light. After ten days' vacation Judge and Mrs. Schenck started to Bakersville in a "jersey" at seven o'clock in the morning, to hold court in Mitchell County. Heavy showers fell as their vehicle climbed over and around Green Mountain. ''The mud was deep and the road slippery, then the clouds rose and the rain stopped." The ford in the Toe River at Peterson's was dangerous because the water was so high. Peterson rowed the Schencks across in his "dugout" twenty feet long and two and one-half feet wide and made another trip for their baggage, while a boy drove the jersey across. Then at the edge of Bakersville the gray horse began to balk and the judge and his lady finished the �On Main Traveled Roads / 45 Here the Schencks and the Gudgers spent two nights journey on foot. At the Penland House dinner was eaten, clothes were changed, and at three o'clock the judge was charging the grand jury. The docket was small and the session of court uneventful. The judge was eager to continue his exploration of the mountains. Mitchell County is much smaller than Yancey and was part ofYancey, Caldwell, andWatauga until 1861. The Nollichucky River forms the boundary between Mitchell and Yancey counties, while on the east is the Blue Ridge and on the west the Toe (Estatoe) River which flows the entire length of the county forming a valley "rich beyond description." On Saturday, October 25, 1879, Judge and Mrs. Schenck set out with a caravan for Roan Mountain, with a horse and buggy provided by Major Jacob M. Bowman for the first five miles, after which they had to travel five on horseback. General Wilder, an iron capitalist of Chattanooga, Tennessee, a Union army veteran who owned the mountain, had built a twenty room lodge called Cloudland. Only a caretaker and his little daughter were at the lodge, but the nine guests were welcomed with a cheerful fire, coffee, and tea and sugar, to which they added the "snacks" they had brought along. From the Pinnacle �46 J Part I: The People and Their Homeland The only dry way to cross swollen streams Roan Mountain in early June is colorful with myriads of purple rhododendrons U .S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO �On Main Traveled Roads / 4 7 half a mile from the Cloudland Hotel, 6,306 feet high, could be seen ranges of mountains in Virginia, West Virginia, Tennessee, and Georgia, as well as the ridges and peaks of North Carolina. The Bluff, ten feet lower than the Pinnacle, is at the southwest end of the mountain, and from it one looks down on a dreadful abyss below, although in the distance were to be seen thriving farms and villages in Tennessee, and on Big Rock Creek was the "Iron Works" at Cranberry. Charles Dudley Warner, exploring a few years later, wrote about the large variety of flora on Roan Mountain: "There are many [plants] we are told, never or rarely found elsewhere in the United States .... The rhododendron [growing there] ... has a deep red, almost purple color." About one-fifth of the land in Mitchell County was cultivated. The usual corn, oats, wheat and rye were to be seen, and fifteen acres were in cotton. Seventy-seven acres were planted to tobacco. Bakersville had a stoneware manufactory and a newspaper, the Republican. Churches in Mitchell County were chiefly Methodist and Baptist. A very County had not been created, and Schenck went next to Watauga County, where Boone, the county seat, was the highest such seat of government east of the Rockies at that time. To Schenck the routine of the court was monotonous in the small village of two stores and two hotels. Colonel Folk from Lenoir conveyed Schenck in a buggy drawn by two good horses. He stayed at Bryan's Hotel, where he was fed speckled trout, buckwheat cakes, sugar tree syrup, and the best milk, "good enough for a king." With a Captain Todd he fished in Howard's Creek. They caught twenty trout, the "most beautiful and gamey of all fishes." The court lasted only from Monday to Thursday, and on Friday the judge wrote, "Lawyers, suitors, and witnesses are gone, leaving the town lonely and uninteresting." A week would intervene before the next court, in Jefferson, and he did not know how he could "make the time interesting." Charles Dudley Warner commented about the two "taverns" in Boone and concluded that they were necessary to accomodate judges and lawyers when court was in session: "The court is the only excitement and the only amusement. Everybody in the county knows exactly when the court sits and when court �48 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland breaks. During the session the whole county is practically in Boone, men, women, and children. They camp there, they attend the trials, they take sides; half of them, perhaps, are witnesses, for the region is litigious, and the neighborhood quarrels are entered into with spirit .... "This tavern, one end of which was a store, had a veranda in front, and a back gallery, where there were evidences of female refinement in pots of plants and flowers. . . . The front porch in the morning resembled a carpenter's shop; it was literally covered with the whittlings of the row of natives who had spent the evening there in the sedative occupation of whittling." On November 12, 1879, Judge Schenck went from Boone to Jefferson, twenty-two miles, in a carriage. He made his headquarters at the old George Bowers House, kept by Martin Harden, in "room no. 3, which was for many years known as the judge's room and had been occupied by almost all the antebellum judiciary." Ashe County is one-third larger than Watauga in area, and its population was almost twice that ofWatauga, but the county seat, Jefferson, was smaller than Boone. There was great interest in mining in Ashe County, and grazing was also important. There were thirty-eight cattle dealers. One brandy distiller and ten whiskey distillers were licensed. There was a Negro population of 966, and the county had three Negro schools, a large number for a mountain county. Judge Schenck's circuit did not include Alleghany, Wilkes, and Surry counties. While all of Alleghany has an elevation of over 2,500 feet (and the Blue Ridge passes along its eastern and southern border), it has no peaks of over 5,000 feet. Sparta, the county seat, had about roo residents in r88o. The population of the county was 5,486. Wilkes County lies south of Alleghany, with the crest of the Blue Ridge forming its northwest boundary. It is so large that it is sometimes called the "State of Wilkes." The population of 19,I8I seems to have been fairly well distributed in r88o. The county seat, Wilkesboro, had only a few hundred people. One hotel and one boarding house accommodated the court officials and lawyers. The parent county, Surry, once included present-day Stokes and Forsyth and all of the land to the west as well as what came to be seven Tennessee counties. Partitions dated from I 777 to I 850, after which Surry County had its present boundaries. Its mountains are in the �On Main Traveled Roads J 49 northwestern part, the crest of the Blue Ridge just skirting the corner of the county. On the south is the historic Yadkin River, along which lived some distinguished families. Surry County's best known spot was Pilot Mountain, which was in 1970 made a state park. Surry is hilly or mountainous, with swift streams that were utilized for water power. One industry, the Elkin Manufacturing Company, established in 1848 by the Gwyn family for making cotton cloth, was in r884 employing thirtyfive workers and producing daily five hundred yards of sheeting and five hundred pounds of yarn. While Dobson, population 95, was the county seat, Elkin and Mount Airy were the important towns. In the latter there were manufacturers of cotton goods, but the new line of manufacture was tobacco. The county processed almost a million pounds of the weed in 1883, and Mount Airy had five tobacco factories, with four more at other points in the county. Two newspapers were published in Mount Airy: the National Visitor and the Mount Airy Watchman. The mineral of Surry County was not yet being exploited, but an abundance of granite was to become in later years one of the important resources. Winter was coming on as Judge Schenck traveled fifty-five miles from Jefferson to Lenoir, over the Blowing Rock Gap. The first thirty-two miles were done in a two horse buggy with Colonel Folk. "The New River, a rapid mountain stream 125 feet wide," Schenck wrote, "was frozen over in many places, and Meat Camp Creek bore the weight of horses, buggy, and passengers. A night was spent at the home of Len. W. Estes, on the Blue Ridge. Mrs. Estes had the finest B.W. [buckwheat] cakes I ever ate. They were about nine inches in diameter, round as a plate and thick as your hand, and very light .... Estes has a beautiful mill pond, full of trout, and I have a special invitation to fish in it, which I hope to accept and enjoy." On Sunday Colonel Folk and the judge rode on to Lenoir, making the twenty-two miles by four P.M. "I am rejoiced to leave the high elevations and the dangerous roads of the mountains as the cold winter comes on," wrote Schenck. One civil case on the docket, Freeman v. Sprague, took from Wednesday to Saturday to complete. It dealt with the ownership of the Henry Hotel at Henry Depot on the Western �50 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland North Carolina Railroad west of Old Fort, and the lawyers employed for the plaintiff were E. H. Malone, J. C. Bynum, and Romulus Linney; for the defense, Burgess S. Gaither, George N. Folk, and D. P. Cilley. All of these names are those of well known families of the area. Colonel and Mrs. Clinton A. Cilley entertained Judge Schenck, the Joneses, and Colonel Pearson at tea. The Jones, Lenoir, Patterson, and related families were residents of attractive and stately homes Qn plantations near Lenoir. Kemp Plummer Battle wrote, "I state as a fact that the lovely and fertile country through which flows the upper Yadkin and its tributaries has been for years the home of a prosperous, high toned and harmonious people. . . . [It is] designated by admiring visitors as Happy Valley." Lenoir's newspaper, the Topic, one dollar per year, advertised that it was "published weekly in the liveliest town in the mountains." Schenck called Lenoir "one of the most literary and cultivated places in the state." Court ended after almost four months of "toiling over the great mountains," and Schenck went home to rest until March when he was next to travel to Asheville. That trip was made by train to Charlotte, thence to Spartanburg, South Carolina, where he missed his train to Hendersonville. Mr. Anderson, superintendent of the railroad, sent him to Hendersonville on an engine. "It was a grand ride over Tryon Mountain," he wrote. While holding court in Asheville the judge met Kope Elias, Esquire, of Macon County, his devoted friend. Upon hearing a report that some fine wild turkeys had been in a field nearby, Schenck and Elias borrowed a horse and buggy on Saturday and rode out to shoot turkeys. "It was seven miles, and the roads were desperately bad, and we just got to the 'blind' in time to hear the turkeys fly out of the field." The birds were seen again on Sunday. Monday morning "came wet and foggy, but by 6 o'clock Kope and I were in the 'blind.' I was armed with [a] double barreled breech loader, Kope with a muzzle loader. In about a half hour we heard one fly down from the roost and give a low call or two and in a few minutes we heard the gang, five in all, fly over the fence. I was to 'conduct the shooting,' so I whispered to take a position and keep a keen watch. Directly a large gobbler came running to the bait, and �On Main Traveled Roads / 5 I we could see his outlines through the dense fog about twenty-five steps from us, then another joined him, and I gave command to aim, then to fire. At the word I fired both barrels at my gobbler, full and square in the breast, as he had discovered our presence and was peering his keen eyes into the crevices of the 'blind' to see what we were. Kope fired one barrel simultaneously, and both turkeys fell. Kope's turkey, to our surprise and mortification rose up and flew into a thicket and left him feeling 'blank and cheap'." Later Kope's turkey was found dead where he had fallen from a tree. Schenck continued, "My gobbler weighed 17 pounds .... I preserved the 'tails' and 'wings' for fans, and stuffed the head, leaving the full breast of feathers attached. The beard is nine inches long." Schenck had very little to say about the court at Marshall in Madison County, which he conducted in March 1880. He rode to Marshall in a hack and stayed at Jack Gudger's hotel. He wrote of Madison County, "This county is now wild over tobacco. The raising of this weed has increased very greatly and is proving remarkably profitable. Lands are increasing in value, and labor is greatly in demand." Marshall had little room for more than the main street, "the mountains rising to a lofty summit, almost from the water's edge of the river." It had about I 50 people. Warm Springs to the northwest had hotels and boarding houses and was to become an even more popular resort after the railroad reached there. We next find Judge Schenck in Brevard. The French Broad River rises in Transylvania County and the judge marveled at "the fertility, wealth, and beauty of the valley." He enjoyed shooting pheasants there. These birds "come to apple orchards in secluded places to eat the tender buds." Court over in Brevard (he had nothing to say about the lawyers or the docket), Mr. B. D. Lankford, Esquire, was "kind enough to furnish me two good mules and drive me to Waynesville without charge." They admired the "magnificent valley of the Mills River" on the way. One night was spent at Turnpike Post Office at the Smathers Inn. Waynesville was not incorporated until I871, but to Judge Schenck it appeared "an old dilapidated town, dirty and dingy, �52 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland Downtown Marshall today squeezed in between the French Broad and the mountains HUGH MORTON PHOTO and in itself without attraction." Hence he chose a room at Major W. W. Stringfield's White Sulphur Springs near Waynesville, of which he wrote, " ... one of the lovely spots in this world, and capable of being made a paradise with capital. The mountain scenery is grand, the river or creek running in stone's throw is transparent as crystal, the spring is very fine, and there are no cleverer people in the world than the Major and his wife." The population of Waynesville was 225. Much interest was shown in agriculture, clubs and societies having been organized including the Haywood Agricultural Society. From Waynesville Judge Schenck proceeded to Webster, then the county seat of Jackson County, with Walter E. Moore, a young lawyer. The docket was short and court closed in two days; a "horse thief' and a "house thief' were both sentenced to ten years in the penitentiary. Jackson County as described by William Ernest Bird "is essentially medial within the extremely western subdivision of the mountain region. Its shape is that of an elongated oval bowl �On Main Traveled Roads J 53 with an irregular rim: the Blue Ridge on the southeast, the Smokies to the southwest, the Balsams to the northeast, and the Cowees to the southwest. It is divided for almost its entire length by the Tuckaseigee River." At the Cherokee town of Stekoa near present-day Whittier, Griffith Rutherford met the Indians in 1776 and drove them into the Smokies. In 1781 John Sevier defeated them a second time near the present town of Sylva. In 1796 the "Meiggs and Freeman Line" was established from the Smokies to South Carolina, limiting the Cherokees to the territory west of the line. Thus part of what later became Jackson County was available to white settlers, and near the Meiggs and Freeman Line certain men were permitted to operate trading stations: Foster's, Love's and East laPorte. In 1819 another treaty gave the State of North Carolina the entire Tuckaseigee Valley, and the land newly available was divided into districts, surveyed, and sold to white settlers. Thereafter the area went through the pattern of home, church, and school building common to each valley in turn. The most exciting natural landmark in Jackson County was Judaculla Rock, now a state shrine, a large stone on Caney Fork Creek which has inscribed in hieroglyphics a message that no one has ever been able to decipher. Legend tells of a super-human being named Judaculla of prehistoric times who carved the inscription to commemorate his activities in the area. In the southeast corner of Jackson County Confederate General and later Governor of South Carolina Wade Hampton had an estate at a very scenic point which later became the resort, High Hampton. Whiteside Mountain is one of the most spectacular mountains in the state. One side has a rock precipice I ,8oo feet high, giving the mountain its name. Franklin, with a population of 207, was the county seat of Macon County which had been formed in 1828. It became a cultural center for the southwestern part of the state, had a number of schools and academies, and was the home of the first normal school established in Western North Carolina. In 1875 another town, Highlands, was laid out in the southeastern part of the county as a summer resort. Settled chiefly by newcomers, it boasted a literary society, the Highlands Improvement Association, the Highlands Floral Society, the Highlands Temperance Union, and a newspaper, the Blue Ridge Enterprise. Both Franklin and Highlands had high schools. �54 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland Waynesville was described in the 187o's as a quaint, old-looking town. Life was simple and rural After Judge Schenck had finished the court in Franklin, he and his daughter Lucy who had joined him set out with Thomas Slagle as guide to climb the Nantahala Mountain Range. They were able to go by two-horse buggy to the gap, and there "took saddle" for the summit which was three miles farther. Near the summit was the famous "wine spring," which furnished water to drink with their lunch. On the way to Hayesville in Clay County the judge, Kope Elias, and Lucy stopped at Alexander Munday's at Aynone Post Office at the western foot of the Nantahala Range. Schenck had sent word to the host to have plenty of speckled trout ready, and he had "a most bountiful supply of this most delicate of all fishes." After dinner they crossed "Tusquitcher Mountain" (Tusquitee) to Hayesville. The road followed "cool crystal branches, with gushing streams at every turn, and grand forest of hemlock and wilderness of rhododendron on every side." One night was spent at the "cozy cottage" of one of the Shearer families on Tusquitee Creek. There was a little mill nearby, and water had been piped to the Shearer house and to the mill race. �On Main Traveled Roads J 55 �56 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland :..1.:: " .. The Schencks followed the Nantahala Gorge between Franklin and Hayesville ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . Only two days were required for the session of court in Clay County, which h ad been part of Cherokee until 1861. The county's population was only 3,3 16. After the court closed the judge's party continued to Murphy, the road following the Hiwassee River for part of the way. They h ad time for sightseeing before the next session in Cherokee, and the judge wrote, "I spent the next week very pleasantly." He was able to take "several fine drives" to explore scenic attractions. Cherokee County was described by Chataigne's Directory as having "marbles of the finest quality and of various colors that compose whole mountains," but at that time m arble was not being mined. Kope Elias accompanied Judge Schenck on this trek on the Western Circuit in 1880, and they next traveled to Robbinsville, Graham County, spending the night at Dr. R. C. Washburn's at the head of Valley River. The docket was finished in a day and a half. Robbinsville was a hamlet of sixty-one persons, the �On Main Traveled Roads / 57 entire county's population numbering 2,335. Graham County was very young at the time of Schenck's visit, having been created in 1872. Some Indian families continued to live there on land purchased for them by William Holland Thomas. They subsisted by farming and hunting. A few white families had straggled in even before the Cherokee removal. The roads were poor, most of them lying at least at a thirty degree angle. Not until the lumbering industry started would people come to Graham County in any great numbers. The county seat of Swain County (now Bryson City) was then called Charleston. It was thirty-two miles from Franklin, to which the judge had returned after court at Robbinsville. The Little Tennessee River was high, and as the judge crossed it his buggy and valise filled with water. In Swain County law enforcement had been made a problem by a band of rioters and desperadoes led by members of the "Wiggins family." The judge sentenced about ten to jail for terms of from three to twelve months, and he sent them to the Franklin jail "for safe keeping." Swain County had a total population of 3,784, and its land was assessed at 78/: per acre. Charleston had 100 people. The main portion of the Cherokee Indian lands, the "Qualla Boundary" was partially in Swain County. Two other counties not included in Schenck's circuit were Rutherford and Polk. Rutherford was one of the more populous counties, much of its land lying in the piedmont, with a population of 15,208. In part of the county are the South Mountains. Inserted in the southwestern corner is little Polk County through which run the Saluda Mountains. Chimney Rock in Rutherford County was one of the tourist attractions, and the highest point is Pinnacle Mountain, 3,832 feet. The Broad River and the Second Broad flow through the county. In cultural life Rutherford and Polk had a head start, as they had begun to be settled before the American Revolution and they were always in touch with more highly developed areas. The Speculation Land Company promoted settlement and advertised, attracting purchasers. From I814-1845 Rutherford was the center of gold production for the nation, and Bechtler's mint north of Rutherfordton was allowed to coin money. The county began �58 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland the textile industry in I874 when an old wheat mill was converted to production of cotton goods. It employed fifty people until, within the year, it was destroyed by fire and not until years later were plans made for its successor. Its mill village of fifteen houses was probably the first in Western North Carolina. Polk County with 5,062 people and an area of only 234 square miles had I,646 acres devoted to cotton and 93 I in tobacco. A fine old home in Polk County was Green River Plantation built by ColonelJoseph McDowell Carson about I8oo. Inherited by Carson's granddaughter Mrs. Frank Coxe, it served as a country home, the Coxes spending most of each year in Asheville, where Mr. Coxe built the first charming Battery Park Hotel. Green River Plantation house still stands. Columbus, the county seat of Polk, had only 7I people in I 880. The southern and eastern portion of the county is a fine fine farming area. Within a few years after I88o, Polk County was to become attractive to both summer and winter residents (not the same groups) when rail connections with South Carolina were made. The route followed had been the Indian Trading Path, later a main traveled road from Kentucky and Tennessee to the South. �CHAPTER TWO Off the Beaten Path The distinctive mountain culture as described by vtsttors, missionaries, social workers, members of study commissions, and residents during the last hundred years, was to be found among the people off the beaten part. Edward King in The Great South, 1875, described a visit to a mountain cabin. He saw the housewife smoking a corncob pipe and warming her hands before an open fire. Rain dripped through the roof; the children were huddled together. There were few furnishings, but the barns were full and the family had a few sheep and goats. At that date the mountain people were not destitute, but the public schools were deplorable. He concluded that the people were relatively well off. A description of mountain life about 1880 by the great psychologist William James is so typical of outlanders' views that it is quoted at length: "Some years ago ... in the mountains ofNorth Carolina, I passed by a large number of'coves' ... which had been cleared and planted. The impression on my mind was one of unmitigated squalor. The settler had ... cut down the more manageable trees and left their charred stumps standing. The larger trees he had girdled and killed. . . . He had then built a log cabin, plastering its chinks with clay, and had set up a tall zigzag rail fence around the scene of his havoc, to keep the pigs and cattle out .... He had planted the intervals between the stumps with Indian corn ... ; and there he dwelt with his wife and babe - an axe, a gun, a few utensils, and some 59 �6o / Part I: The People and Their Homeland pigs and chickens ... being the sum total of his possessions. "The forest had been destroyed; and what had 'improved' it out of existence was hideous ... without a single element of nature's beauty, ugly indeed seemed the life of the squatter ... beginning back where our first ancestors started and ... hardly better off for ... the achievements of ... intervening generations .... '' "Then I said to the mountaineer who was driving me, 'What sort of people ... make these new clearings?' 'All of us,' he replied. 'Why we ain't happy here unless we are getting one of these coves under cultivation.' I instantly felt that I had been losing the whole inward significance of the situation. Because to me the clearing spoke of naught but denudation, I thought that to those whose sturdy arms and obedient axes had made them they could tell no other story. But when they looked on the hideous stumps, what they thought of was personal victory. The chips, the girdled trees, and the vile split rails spoke of honest sweat, persistent toil, and final reward." James, like many other writers and visitors to the mountains, had deplored the meagerness of the life of those who lived in the coves and on the ridges. The isolated mountaineers that he saw were poor, terribly poor, but they retained their pride, their self-respect, their independence, their individuality, and their zest for life. Many of their children left their mountain homes to "seek their fortunes" in the mill towns, the county seats, or the cities, but they always remembered nostalgically the experiences, the sounds, and the sights of their childhood: crossing streams by footlogs; washing wool in streams; carding, spinning, weaving; boiling clothes in a black iron pot swung from a tripod; salting sheep from a gourd; a mother churning milk and cooking the evening meal by the light of a fat pine stick; the father riding for the doctor by the flare of a burning torch or taking the corn to the mill on foot or on horseback; lograilings; house-raisings; corn huskings; the crushing of sorghum; the stomping, swinging, shuffling of feet; the voice of the caller and fiddle music at neighborhood square dances. Mountain sounds were those of the howling winds, the singing of birds, the tinkling of cow, horse, and sheep bells, the ringing of axes, the thud of mauls, the crash of falling trees, the sputter and crackle of open fires, the clank of the blacksmith's hammer, the hissing of frying meat and the whir of the spinning wheel and above all the sound of the human voice with all its varying �Off the Beaten Path J 61 A log cabin of the type lived in by the earliest settlers and the poorer mountaineers ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. later I G oing to the Mill - riding is better than walking j �62 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland intonations in talk and in the singing of hymns and old ballads. Other sounds came from the mass hysteria and jerkings at revival meetings, laughter, obstreperous cursing, crying at trials, kettles singing over a crane. Interesting smells were those of oak, cedar, pine burning, hominy boiling, sassafras steeping, com bread baking, ham frying, and woolen clothes drying before a fire. A small mountain settlement of the type that might be found in almost any county of the region was that on the North Fork of the Swannanoa River, described by Fred M. Burnett in This Was My Valley. The Bumets (earlier spelling) built their first log cabin there in 1762. In the valley, less than four miles long, closed in by mountains on all sides, lived at least fifty families. Here were "all the crafts- blacksmith shops where they built their own wagons, plows, knives, and tools. They tanned leather, made shoes, harnesses, and saddles. They carded, spun, and wove their own wool and made their clothes." From the peach and apple orchards came the fruit for their brandy. Wheat, com, and rye were also distilled. Their fields produced com, and every farm had poultry and domesticated animals. The community was almost entirely self-sufficient. After the crops were harvested in the fall, the men went on the first hunt, which would last from Monday morning until Saturday afternoon. Each man carried a sack of supplies such as com meal for fritters, flour for gravy, salt, coffee, a slab ofbacon, potatoes, and onions. The hunt would provide the meat. To the group of men who had known each other and hunted together all their lives, the hunt was a way of life, a prized experience. Mountain families have usually been patriarchal. In them the men have been dominant, the women subservient. The men made the decisions, did "men's work"; the women did the chores and the house work and often did not eat at the table with the men, especially if guests were present, but stood to serve men and guests. Women however generally were loyal to their men and not unhappy. They often referred to the husband as "The Mister" or "him." They usually would not go visiting or to town without his permission. The mountain man respected all women but was not chivalrous. He would not tip his hat nor offer his chair to an older woman. He would let his wife carry a child or other burdens. He would walk in front of her down the road or path. But he was scrupulous in teaching manners to his children. �Off the Beaten Path / 63 One of the simplest ofgrist mills An old mill that is still in existence ASH EVI LLE C ITIZEN -TIM ES CO . �64 J Part I: The People and Their Homeland Mountain musicfor a play-party game A mountain hunter �Off the Beaten Path / 65 The mountain man believed that everyone was equal in the sight of God and man. He resented condescension with fierce pride. There were no marked distinctions in the mountains. He was intolerant of anyone who tried to "get above his raisin'." He would balk at doing a "woman's work." He was ashamed to milk a cow, wash dishes, or make a bed, but he was quite willing to do the "hard work" of plowing, harvesting, felling trees, clearing land, sawing or chopping wood for cabin or fireplace. He was not lazy: he used great energy in his primitive methods of farming, in hauling his produce to market, in walking many miles over the hills hunting animals, birds, ginseng, or other salable herbs. During the three months of the growing season, men's work was regimented by the demands of their crops. That season was short because of frosts coming late in the spring and early in the fall. After crops were in and the land made ready for spring planting, the men could choose their activities until seed time. The more ambitious cleared land, split rails, cut firewood; others hunted, gambled, pitched horseshoes, attended shooting matches, drank liquor, and swapped yarns. Many made liquor; most drank. The drinking often made them quarrelsome. The mountain man had poise, self-confidence, versatility, was able to adapt to any kind of job. He was proud, "touchy," a jack-of-all trades, had learned to do almost everything for himself. He took education seriously because he had to work so hard to get it or because he was denied the opportunity. He could stand any amount of hard work, but he chafed at monotonous jobs. He was rash, precipitate, oversensitive, quicktempered. He usually resented all outlanders. Although the general level of cultural achievement had dropped because of isolation and the meagerness of opportunity, the mountaineer has been found to be a naturally capable, honest, intelligent, and efficient worker. He had an air of leisure, did not seem to be in a hurry, but he got things done that had to be done. It has been said that child-bearing, hard work, and hopelessness were the lot of mountain women. Sometimes that was true when a family was crushed by hopeless poverty. But women were the bulwark of mountain society. They held the homes together. They did the household chores, tended the livestock and garden, raised hemp and sheep and made the family clothing from hemp or from wool that they had sheared, thread they �66 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland had spun, and cloth they had woven. They cooked, cleaned, hoed the garden. Often they plowed; sometimes they even pulled the plow. They hunted herbs for medicine and greens for "sallets." In season the whole family would hunt ginseng, which sold for sixty cents a pound in 1848 (and for $9.68 green or $38.oo dried, in 1969). On Sundays the women often walked behind the horse, mule, or ox while the men rode to church holding what children they could. The women would put on their sunbonnets to work in the fields. They dried beans, corn, apples, peaches, pumpkins, and prepared kraut, pork, venison, and squirrel meat for winter. They made their own soap from the lye of hickory ashes and grease. They made their own candles and they dyed the cloth that they wove - linsey for underwear and dresses, jeans for men's clothing. Their dyes were homemade: indigo (blue), madder (red), maple bark (purple), hulls, roots, and walnut bark (brown). Dyes were also made from sumac berries and laurel leaves. While they worked or during their few leisure moments many dipped snuff. They had tin snuff boxes into which they dipped chewed birch sticks to rub the snuff on their gums. Snuff dipping was not a pretty custom, but it gave them satisfaction, and the women deserved any pleasure they could get. Other women smoked clay or corncob pipes filled with twists of home-cured tobacco. R. R. Smith, who engaged in mission work north and west of Asheville near the end of the nineteenth century, wrote, "In the summer and fall the women, wise like ants, store up food for winter ... drying and canning fruits and vegetables ... leather britches [long strands of dried snap beans hanging on the walls of the cabin], dry pumpkin ... cut in thin, spiral pieces put on sturdy sticks and hung in dry places .... Gourds were plentiful and made a cheap substitute for tin and earthenware. The small ones were used for drinking cups, the large ones for holding salt, sugar ... , the largest size for carrying water from the spring. Each family had a supply of remedies gathered from forest and field: boneset, goldenseal, burvine, catnip .... " These intrepid women had few conveniences and few pleasures. They faded early from hard work and child-bearing. But they took pride in their cooking, preserving, in their weaving and dyeing. A woman could weave five yards of linsey in a day. They liked company and often met for spinning, carding, reeling, knitting, and weaving contests. There was a quilting frame in many a mountain home. It was suspended from the ceiling and was about waist high. Patchwork pieces of brightly �Off the Beaten Path / 67 colored cloth had been gathered and saved. The quilting consisted of spreading cloth under a filler of cotton or wool, covering it with the patchwork which had been pieced together in intricate designs: sunburst, log cabin, crazy quilt, and others; and with tiny stitches sewing through all three thicknesses following a design that was repeated throughout the entire quilt. It was never a mountain custom to rely on hired help. When anything needed to be done that required many hands, the neighbors were "right neighborly." They used sickles to harvest small grain. When a man's crop was ripe, neighbors would gather to reap and shock it. A dozen or more men would cut through a field. Then they hung their sickles over their shoulders and bound back. Boys gathered the sheaves and old men shocked them. Corn crops were gathered and thrown in heaps beside the cribs. Neighbors came and husked the crop. Dr. C. D . Smith of Franklin said he had seen eighty to ninety men around his father's corn crib. Neighbors helped also in a barn or house raising or in a "rail mauling." This was a communal splitting of rails for fences. Neighborliness was more than a custom. It was a way oflife. Neighbors would help each other at grinding cane stalks, wheat threshings, or making molasses. They attended Methodist camp meetings, Baptist association meetings, community picnics, school commencements, circuses. All helped the sick. Some who were gifted in their knowledge of herbs were called "yarb" doctors. They and the "granny women" did much to maintain health. ::-..... W eaving was among the many responsibilities of the mountain woman. The loom is home-made �68 / Part I: The People and Their Homeland John C. Campbell wrote entertainingly of mountaineers as horse traders. He wished that he could live to see a horse trade between a Carolina mountaineer and a Connecticut Yankee. He affirmed that to the mountain man every business transaction was a horse trade and that he sought to get the better of his competitor. He gave his opponent credit for knowing as much as he did. Sometimes his shrewdness seemed like dishonesty to those who did not understand him. If one caught up with him he thought more of the trader's shrewdness. If one tried to deceive him, he would find him a shrewd judge of human nature. Horse trading took place anywhere, any time: at county seats on court days, at public speakings, at country stores, blacksmith shops, mills, and crossroads. The language of the mountain people a century ago has been said to be similar to that of the Elizabethan English. It was archaic, picturesque, figurative. There was too in the language quaintness which set it apart from that used outside the mountains. Not only had the language been preserved but the English and Scottish ballads and folk songs had survived also. Many have been changed greatly; others are remarkably close to the original versions. Their melodies have not only a touching beauty, but they are uniquely expressive of mountain character. They were preserved because of the isolation of the people. The folk speech of the mountain people had its dialectal individuality. Many studies of mountain dialect are available. A few examples are the following: fotch for fetch, ye for you, hit for it, antic for a comical person, preacher-parson, fotched-on Jurriner, granny woman, neighbor-people, tooth-dentist, play-purties, heer'd and afeard, mought, hyar for here, right smart for a considerable amount, right pert, consentable for willing, plague for tease, I wouldn't care to for I do not object, We got along plain for we did fairly well, Hit was thickety for It was not an easy passage, after preachin' has broke, sculp for scalp, shootin' iron for fire arm, skeerd, ourn, Jranticky (a combination of frantic and panicky), endurin' for whole, swallow a punkin' seed for get pregnant, galackers for pickers of galax leaves, sangers for pickers of ginseng, settin' up for courting. Until the coming of the roads and railroads, life in the mountains remained as it had been. These modes of access made marketing of produce possible; they were the opening wedge to the good life for the mountain people. �PART TWO A Changing Society Western North Carolina was never a land apart from the rest of the state, even in the earliest days, in spite of the mountain barrier. One of the first ties that existed was religion. Churches were established in the colony in the wave of protestant evangelical activity that followed John Wesley's lead in England and then in America. Camp meetings sprang up out of the work of orderly smallgroup gatherings, grew and spread ultimately into a "movement whose aspects and practices were completely free affairs of the uninhibited masses" -the Great Revival which reached Western North Carolina by the end of the eighteenth century. At singing-gatherings (which continue to this day) and camp meetings, pioneer people were given to use what may have been their first manufactured and mass-produced article, the folk-hymn or revival song. This article employed as its tune a folk-tune, as its text words composed by a spiritually-minded man, in the words of one of them, taking the "devil's ditties" to do the Lord's work. What happened to the simple folk-songs of a bye-gone era was symptomatic of change. New ways were built upon the old. They did not supplant the traditions of the past- the agriculturally based social system making prestige the property of the river-bottom gentry; the politics of heredity making power an establishment belonging to the prosperous few. The religious awakening was what first brought isolated men into a great participation with masses of men. Methodist Conferences and Baptist Conventions were loyally attended by delegates from the mountains, who usually rode horseback to an eastern meeting center. �70 / Part II: A Changing Society There had been highways of commerce too, tortuous wagon roads on which it was not unusual to see merchants' wagons drawn by as many as eight oxen, taking feathers, eggs, beeswax, medicinal herbs, apples, to the markets of the piedmont and returning with a full line of finished merchandise for the general stores. Travelers might ride in stagecoaches drawn by six beautifully matched horses like those that for a while went from Marion to Asheville. Those who were chosen to represent the area in the General Assembly and the United States Congress traveled thus. And one must not forget the taste that was developing in people for entertainment. In the smaller towns the only spectacles ofimportance to draw crowds, in these days before the motion picture, may have been politics and the courts, and it was only to towns that one could go for the latter. North Carolina's most widespread folklore, like the ballad "Tom Dula," has to do with criminal actions and legal proceedings which aroused great interest in the arena of the day, the courts. Tom Dula was defended in several trials by the famous lawyer and former governor Vance, and reporters came to little Wilkesboro from far off New York newspapers, public interest in the case being so great. An earlier trial, that of Frankie Silvers in Burke County and a still earlier one, that of John Lewis for the murder of Naomi Wise (the ballad is "Omie Wise") show the interest of an enduring nature that a great trial can arouse in an eager audience of common citizens. Not all trials were criminal cases, and not all courts were so well attended, but one must conclude that then the courts were more interesting and exciting than now. Nor were courts so far removed from the other great arena, politics. Other cultural institutions developed slowly. Only the well-to-do could afford to attend the academies and institutes that were usually located in the county seats, and for the masses the one-room school had to suffice until a state system of education for all developed. The changing s~iety in Western North Carolina could not have come wi<:hout the railroads and the highway system. The historian must arbitrarily choose the order in which different topics fall. Part II which follows traces the changing society; Part III will narrate the developing economy. Both took place simultaneously. �CHAPTER THREE Religion Many Western North Carolinians are traditionally fundamentalists who believe in a literal interpretation of the Bible, particularly of the Old Testament. Their beliefs are deep, strong, sincere, although not always have the believers transformed their creed into Christian living. It has been said that religion to Western North Carolinians is bred in the bone. It took various forms, depending somewhat on their national orgins but more on the opportunities offered and on evangelism in the particular locality. The denominational pattern existing in Western North Carolina after the Civil War had been determined many years earlier by the work of the pioneer ministers who had given unstintingly of their time and their lives. We might have expected that at least one-third of the people would be Presbyterians, if family traditions had prevailed, since that proportion were of Scottish descent. But Presbyterians did not engage in missionary work in the mountain area until near the close of the nineteenth century. Meanwhile, Baptist churches were easily established and many potential Presbyterians joined them. Baptist churches outnumber all others in Western North Carolina. Methodists, too, had a system for organizing new congregations and creating new churches, and their results in Western North Carolina were good. For example, a community of Presbyterians living in the Tuckaseigee Valley far away from their church were advised by the Presbyterian minister in Asheville to join the Methodist Church until they could obtain a Presbyterian pastor. 71 �72 / Part II: A Changing Society They became staunch Methodists and continued in that denomination. Baptist churches promoted democracy, and they also tied newly settled areas with the ones from which people had removed, thus helping to unify the population of the area and the state. The method was simple. A group of Baptists who had moved too far from their church to attend services would start a new congregation with the help of the parent church. After a period of recruiting enough members to carry on church discipline, the branch, called an "arm," would petition the parent church asking for the dismission of its members for the purpose of forming a new church. The mother church usually sent helpers to constitute the new one, and the minister of the mother church was responsible for the spiritual welfare of the "arm". A member of the new congregation might be chosen as their minister. He would be examined for his doctrinal views by a "presbytery" of at least two ministers. If they approved him, they would ordain him by "the laying on of hands" and by prayer. Thus new churches sprang up rapidly and at small expense. The minister was a self-supporting man. He was sometimes an illiterate one who would have to teach himself to read the Bible because he felt a "call" to preach or to "exercise his gifts" (of words). Thus a church might be the mother of a number of smaller ones. Baptist churches formed "associations" whose meetings were attended by the delegates chosen by each congregation. In this way they kept in touch with other communities. Judge Johnson]. Hayes's excellent history of Wilkes County traces the formation of each Baptish church in the county from 1771 to 1960. The earliest churches organized in the county, first part of Rowan, then Surry, and finally Wilkes, became members of the Strawberry Association of Virginia. In 1790 the churches in North Carolina in that association were dismissed to form the Yadkin Association, and in 1799 the churches from the Y adkin Association were permitted to withdraw to form the Mountain Baptist Association. By I 8 3 I the Baptist State Convention was in operation, and it founded schools and colleges, established a religious press, and produced an advanced type of scholarship. As the denomination grew in numbers and strength, missionary activities multiplied, and the Sunday School was introduced. Church members began to participate financially in support of missions and benevolent societies. A number of the churches �Religion / 73 objected. The Mountain Association by a majority vote in 1838 declared itself an anti-missionary body hostile to the "institutions of the day" and took the name "Primitive Baptist," a step which had already been taken by the Fisher's River Association in 1832 in Surry County, another former member of the Yadkin Association. The Primitive Baptist churches opposed the new system and refused to sit in conference with those who favored it. They expelled from their numbers members of such secret organizations as the Sons of Temperance and the Masonic order, fearing that these organizations might compete with the church for influence over the members. Primitive Baptists were opposed to a paid ministry or to schools and colleges for the education of men for the ministry, and while they were actually zealous in missionary efforts they disapproved of financial activities of churches in any form. Most of them objected to instrumental music in churches. The Primitive Baptist movement was felt in Surry and Ashe counties and in the portion of Wilkes County that later became Alleghany County. In r884 there were twenty-one Primitive Baptist churches in that area. The Missionary Baptist churches were expelled from the Mountain Association and formed new associations which supported Sunday schools and educational institutions. The Primitive Baptists seem not to have spread into the southwestern part of the state, but there another offshoot developed, the Free Will Baptists, who were also very rigid in doctrine but extremely anti-Calvinistic (the Primitive Baptists were Calvinists). The Free Will Baptists in Buncombe, Madison, Yancey, and Mitchell counties in r884 numbered sixteen churches. The Missionary Baptist churches in the United States split into two conventions over the issue of slavery, and most of the churches in North Carolina have been affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention since 1845. However, there were numbers of mountain people opposed to slavery, and when after the Civil War the Union League came into existence and Union sympathizers joined it, about one hundred of them in r867 formed the Mountain View Baptist Association. Its growth was slow. In r884 there were two of these Union churches in Alleghany County, and today there are four or five small associations in North Carolina and Virginia. To the south the French Broad Association was organized in r8oo with fourteen churches in North and South Carolina. These churches had been dismissed by Bethel, the mother association, to form the new group. By I 807 there were seven member �74 / Part II: A Changing Society churches west of the Blue Ridge. Each of these churches sent out arms and organized congregations. When the State Baptist Convention was organized, these churches in the western section found it difficult to keep in touch with its proceedings. Travel by horseback for such long distances to the meetings of the convention was arduous although the delegates were diligent in attending. In 1844 an appeal was made by delegates from the French Broad Association for a new convention. In 1845 at Boiling Springs Camp Ground near Hendersonville, the Western Baptist Convention was organized. Its aims were, "distribution of the Bible among the destitute, employment of Home Missionaries within her bounds, the sustaining of foreign, domestic, and Indian missions; also to educate poor young men called of God to the Ministry of the Gospel who may be approved by their churches." This convention served until 1895, and after r 86 5 its membership was limited to associations west of the Blue Ridge. It founded Judson College in Hendersonville and authorized the establishment of Mars Hill College in Madison County. Examination of the history of the Baptist churches in all twenty-four counties would be impossible here. Two counties that illustrate the steady increase in the number of Baptist churches are Wilkes and Cherokee. Records of Baptist churches in Cherokee County are available in Margaret Freel's Our Heritage: The People of Cherokee County, North Carolina, 1540-1955. The fifty-eight churches are divided between the West Liberty Baptist Association and the Western North Carolina Baptist Association, and in each association twelve churches have been established in the twentieth century, while sixteen were in existence in each before 1877. In Wilkes County the Baptist churches are listed by Judge Hayes in The Land of Wilkes. In the Brushy Mountain Association there are thirty-five churches, thirteen of which were constituted after 1900, indicating that missionary activity has continued and multiplied as the urban area around the Wilkesboros developed. In addition, thirteen Baptist churches in Wilkes County are in the Elkin Baptist Association, only two of which were established after 1900. The Stone Mountain Association had in 1960 twenty-nine churches. The Briar Creek, Elkin, and Stony Fork associations include some churches outside Wilkes County. Many of the churches now occupy modern brick structures with educational classrooms and heat and water facilities, and the minister is usually furnished with a house. �Religion / 75 The locating of Methodist Episcopal churches in the mountain counties was begun by English-born Francis Asbury, who became the first Methodist bishop in America in I 784. He crossed the mountains sixty times, carrying religion to the people along his route. He began the system of "itinerancy," and when it became impossible for him to attend all of the congregations he had founded, the office of elder, later presiding elder, was created. A Methodist circuit consisting of a large number of congregations was followed by a "circuit rider" who visited each "appointment" periodically. Often meetings were held in the homes. Because the life was strenuous, a Methodist minister would frequently serve only four or six montb as a circuit rider, after which he would "locate," and establish a church. By I8oo almost the entire area of Western North Carolina was divided into circuits in which were numerous "classes" presided over or taught by lay leaders except when the circuit rider was present. As time went on the churches were organized in "conferences," each conference into districts, and each district into circuits. The Holston Conference began in 1783 with sixty members and one preacher. By I824 there were I3,444 white members, I ,4I I colored ones, and forty-three preachers. It had three districts - Abingdon, Knoxville, and French Broad and twenty-five circuits with thirty-eight preachers besides the presiding elders. Among the circuits of the Holston Conference was the Waynesville Circuit and Echota Mission, under the leadership of the Reverend Ulrich Keener. It included all of Haywood and parts ofTransylvania,Jackson, and Swain counties. Most of the people in the charge were Cherokee Indians. The Black Mountain Circuit included the mountainous region of Buncombe, Yancey, and Burke counties. The French Broad Circuit also was mountainous. The life of the circuit rider has been described thus: "Traveling day after day, preaching in the houses of the people, in school houses, in little log meeting houses, and in the open air, mingling with the people in their homes, ... visiting the sick, comforting the dying, burying the dead, marrying the young, baptising the children, warning sinners, and reclaiming the backsliders - such was the life of the young preacher as he rode over the rugged hills." In I 824 a dispute arose in the Methodist Episcopal churches concerning the lack of opportunity for lay members to participate �76 / Part II: A Changing Society Typical of the hundreds if country churches is this in Jackson County, except that today many are being replaced by brick structures in church meetings. "Union Societies" were formed by those who wanted more democracy in their church. Starting in Maryland, the agitation spread southward, two conferences being formed in rural North Carolina of circuits of the dissenters who practiced lay representation. They objected to the episcopal form of church government of the main body of Methodists. These societies, which later called themselves the Methodist Protestant Church, multiplied slowly. In r884 there were eight Methodist Protestant churches in Buncombe County, one in Burke, and one in McDowell. Another division in the Methodist Episcopal Church occurred in r 846 over the right of a bishop to own slaves, and the Methodist Episcopal Church South was formed. The counties in Western North Carolina were in one of three conferences of the Methodist Episcopal Church South: the Holston Conference, including Asheville, Burnsville, H endersonville, Waynesville-Echota Mission, and Franklin circuits; the North Carolina Conference, with Surry County, Jonesville, and Wilkes County; and the South Carolina Conference with Rutherfordton, Morganton, and Lenoir. Thus it was that Davenport College at Lenoir, when ready to accept students in 1857, was turned over to the South Carolina Conference. After the Civil W ar the Methodist Episcopal Church [North] �Religion / 77 started evangelistic actiVIties in the South, forming its own Holston Conference, of which the Asheville District had in I 866 I ,007 members. A new conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church was created in I867, the Virginia and North Carolina Mission Conference, including all of North Carolina except Watauga County and the area west of the Blue Ridge, which remained part of the Holston Conference, Asheville District. Much of the work was among Negroes. In I876 there were forty churches, thirty-one local preachers, and 3,500 members. In I 88o the Blue Ridge Conference was formed and at first all of North Carolina was included. Later it was reduced to thirteen counties west of the mountains. Branson's North Carolina Business Directory for I 884 listed eight northern Methodist churches in Buncombe County and two in each of Clay and Transylvania counties. In addition there were two types of Negro Methodist churches in the area: the African Methodist Episcopal Church which traced its founding back to Philadelphia in I8I6 of which there was one in Buncombe County, one in Burke, and one in Rutherford; the African Methodist Episcopal Church Zion, organized in New York in 1796, of which there were two in Polk and one in Buncombe counties. Camp meetings played their part in extending the work of the churches. One of the famous locations was Turkey Creek Camp Ground at Leicester in Buncombe County. A tract of land was deeded by the Gudger family in 1826 to be used for meetings and religious services. It evidently had been so used even earlier, as Bishop Asbury wrote in his diary on September 27, 1806, "I rode twelve miles to Turkey Creek to a kind of camp meeting. On the Sabbath I preached to about five hundred souls." For over sixty five years camp meetings were held there. It was a typical camp meeting ground. The camp was laid out like a big square, in the middle of which was the "arbor" where services were held, covering one-fourth acre, with room to seat one thousand to fifteen hundred people, roofed over but with no side walls. The arbor was on a slope with the speakers' stand at the lower side, making it resemble an amphitheater. The rough wooden slabs which served as seats were later replaced with better ones. People who attended the meetings came to �78 J Part II: A Changing Society stay several days. They lived in "tents," which were really rough wooden sheds, surrounding the arbor and making the square. Some tents had two stories, the floor of the first story being dirt covered with straw. The beds were bunks built around the walls like a long shelf. The meetings usually began on Thursday and lasted until Monday or Tuesday. They were held in August, and Sunday was the big day. They furnished opportunity for people from different communities to get to know each other and for families that were separated to have reunions. Eventually the nature of the meetings changed. Horse traders and merchants invaded the camp ground to engage in their businesses, whence the meetings were discontinued. Since 1939 when the three large Methodist bodies, Methodist Episcopal, Methodist Episcopal South, and Methodist Protestant, became the Methodist Church, and later the United Methodist Church, laymen have participated in all matters, a victory for the Methodist Protestants. In 1966 the General Conference of the Methodist Church held in Chicago adopted a resolution to do everything possible to eliminate any structural organization based on race at the earliest possible date and not later than the jurisdictional conference in 1972. There had been in North Carolina the Central Jurisdiction which had consisted of Negro churches. In I 968 the Central Jurisdiction was abolished and the Negro Methodist churches became part of the conferences and districts in which they were geographically located. [The Winston-Salem District of the Western North Carolina Conference has been divided into Winston-Salem Forsyth and Winston-Salem Northeast districts. Mr. James C. Peters, a Negro, was appointed by Bishop Hunt as District Superintendent (the office formerly known as the Presiding Elder).] Of the 272,000 members of churches in the Western North Carolina Conference, about 12,000 are Negroes, and of the 750 active ministers, 56 are Negroes. The Presbyterian family of churches is third in membership in North Carolina, although its communicants number only about one-twelfth of the church membership of the area. There have been Presbyterian churches in Western North Carolina at least since I 786. The first three congregations west of the Blue Ridge are said to have been in Buncombe County: Swannanoa, Rim's Creek (Reem's Creek), and Cane Creek. In 1799 �Religion / 79 George Newton was called to Buncombe's churches to be minister. Leadership for these churches came from Virginia, where the Abingdon Presbytery was constituted in I786, to extend west about two hundred miles and eastward to the Blue Ridge. Church government in the Presbyterian church may be compared with civil government in the United States. Local self-government prevails in individual churches through elected elders and congregational meetings. Delegates are sent to the presbytery, a district organization of Presbyterian churches, to which the obligation of missionary work is assigned. The body corresponding to the state government is the synod, and at the top is the assembly, which has jurisdiction over all of the churches of the organization. The Holston Presbytery, organized in I827, included what are now Watauga, Mitchell, and Yancey counties. Meanwhile churches east of the Blue Ridge and in southwest North Carolina were members of the Concord Presbytery, far away in those days of slow travel. For a brief period of five years a Morganton Presbytery was in existence, but it was abolished in I 840. Extension of the church into the mountains was not vigorously sought. The Presbyterian Church, too, was split at the time of the Civil War, and the Presbyterian Church of the Confederate States of America was established. In North Carolina it made no gains during the war; in fact, 2000 communicants lost their lives. After the war the southern church was named the Presbyterian Church in the United States, and the Presbytery of Mecklenburg was set off from that of Concord, but still little effort was made to establish churches in the mountain area, although a need to do so was recognized. When the Synod of North Carolina met in Charlotte in 1877 a report was presented, from which the following is quoted: "Scotch-Irish Presbyterians settled in the western part of the State. They rapidly increased, until at the time of the Revolution, they numbered three or four thousand. . . . At this time [I 877], after a lapse of a hundred years, they numbered 16,544 communicants in 214 churches, with II3 ministers. . . . We have failed to perform our whole duty. With our educated ministry, our intelligent, influential and wealthy members, we ought to have planted the Presbyterian Church in every comer of the State." In I 88o when the Synod met in Raleigh it was reported that of the ninety-four counties included in the Synod, twenty-nine had no Presbyterian churches, and twenty-four had only one each. In r884 Branson's Directory �8o / Part II: A Changing Society reported twenty-four Presbyterian churches in the counties of Western North Carolina. At that time there were just two evangelists in the state, and the Synod was spending only $2300 for evangelistic work. In synod meetings frequent discussions of responsibility for missions brought up the argument that mission work was the responsibility of the presbyteries, not of the synod. Finally, however, in 1893 the Reverend R. P. Pell was sent by the Synod as district evangelist to Watauga and Mitchell counties. At that time there was not a Presbyterian church in Mitchell County and there was only a very small one in Watauga County. Mr. Pell's report to the Synod the next year was, "Churches in charge, 4; mission points, 5; communicants 162; Sabbath schools, 4; pupils, 275, with seven teachers." Pell had traveled on horseback, in a buggy, and on foot and had held services in places hitherto unknown to the Presbyterians. In 1896 the Asheville Presbytery was formed, being set off from the Mecklenburg Presbytery. There were eleven counties, ten ministers, and one thousand communicants. The area lay west of the Blue Ridge and included Buncombe, Clay, Cherokee, Graham, Haywood, Henderson, Jackson, Macon, Madison, Transylvania, and Swain counties. It was almost entirely missionary ground. In four of the counties there was still no Presbyterian church and in four other counties there were only 150 communicants. Two missionaries, Robert F. Campbell, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Asheville, and R. P. Smith, were sent out to investigate the destitution within the presbytery. Both men were natives of the mountain area and would be welcomed in the homes. They were directed to leave the railroads and telegraph lines and the larger valleys behind and to penetrate the secluded coves and highlands and report what they found. They spent three months preaching from house to house and in the woods, sharing the rude accommodations and plain fare of the people. They found numbers of houses without a lamp, a candle, a comb, a brush, a looking-glass. Many of the people had never seen a town, and the buggy of the evangelists was a curiosity. They found many families in which not a member could read a syllable and in whose homes there was not a word of print. An area of I 50 square miles had 400 children of school age and no school, church, or Sunday school. There were large areas in which there was no physician, and old women and quacks administered herbs and practiced their superstitious arts. Women �Religion / 8 1 and children did most of the work in these remote homes, and men were idle except when hunting, fishing, or running illicit distilleries. Campbell wrote, "In some regions a young man has reached the summit of his ambitions when he has learned to pick the banjo, owns a dog, and carries a pistol and a bottle of whiskey." Many persons told the missionaries that their parents had been Presbyterians, and Campbell concludes, "Th~ Presbyterian Church failed to feed and tend these scattered members of its fold, and the more aggressive Methodist and Baptist churches gathered them into their folds. God bless them for it." R. P. Smith wrote, "They never had a fair chance. Entrenched here for generations and far removed from the thoroughfare of a progressive world, the wonder is that they have done so well. After the survey of the summer, 1898, work of the Presbytery began in the areas where need was greatest. School conditions in Robbinsville were deplorable. Suitable buildings were lacking and teachers were incompetent. People grasped the opportunity for a good school. A two-room building was built, one room for school, the other for church services. Soon two additional rooms were needed, as the enrollment reached 3 50; Three teachers were engaged and a library of 300 books was installed. A pastor was employed and church and Sunday school started. People in the county said that this was the greatest influence for good the county had ever experienced. In Haywood County in a district where there had not been a public school in operation for two years, the Snyder Memorial Academy was built and it soon had an enrollment of 295 pupils. In Big Ivy Community in the Black Mountains, two churches were organized and in 1905 there were 150 members. Schools were established in connection with the churches, and an ex-moonshiner said the Presbyterian workers had done more to benefit that section than all the laws of North Carolina. In Haywood County an orphans' home at Crabtree was opened in 1904, with a day school attached for the benefit of the poor children of the neighborhood. During the first year twenty orphans were cared for and sixty-five children attended the school. From 1897 until 1904 E. Mac Davis was the pioneer evangelist of Madison County. He preached at thirty-eight points, distributed thousands of tracts and books, organized three or four churches and a large number of Sunday schools and mission �82 / Part II: A Changing Society summer day schools. A number of women and one man assisted him in the work. When he left the area he had two hundred members in his churches. Following Mr. Pell in 1895 were Edgar Tufts, L. E. Bostian, and E. D. Brown in Watauga County and L. A. McLaurin in Mitchell County. They were seminary students who worked during the summer months. In I 897 Edgar Tufts came back after completion of his seminary work to spend the rest of his life in Northwestern North Carolina. Greater than the desire to found churches was the determination to educate the boys and girls, to let them "know the good life." The Presbyterian Church set up a pattern that public schools might follow. It sent in strong personalities, if possible ones well acquainted with mountain life and character, to establish high schools, often in a county seat, with boarding facilities and dormitories. Even after the State of North Carolina authorized the counties to support high schools, many could not because of the lack of funds. The church schools' objectives included that of leadership training for the time when the state would maintain high schools. When that time came a number of the church schools continued to furnish living facilities for students who lived too far away to be day students. After school buses were put into operation, some of the high schools established by the churches were advanced to college level and are still functioning. At about the same time the Asheville Presbytery was formed, the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. (northern) began to dream that it would "make Asheville the center of Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism in the Southern Appalachian mountains." Young men and women were sent all through the mountains as leaders. Schools were attempted for children of all ages. The aim was not to organize Presbyterian churches but to send young people back to their communities to teach and live the Christian faith. The result was that few churches were formed. The schools have dwindled and much of the former school property has been sold. An exception is Warren Wilson College. Today the interest of the young missionaries has been transferred to the cities. The Protestant Episcopal Church, heir to the Anglican Church of colonial days, had small numbers of communicants in Western �Religion / 8 3 North Carolina congregations, but they were usually leaders in their communities and were often prominent in the state. An antipathy toward the Episcopal Church was evident in many parts of the area. Scholars have concluded that many of the Scotch-Irish had moved westward to avoid paying tithes to the established church and their disapproval has been passed on to their descendants. Perhaps that is the reason that more people did not affiliate with the Episcopal Church. At the end of the Civil War there were few of these churches in Western North Carolina and most of them were in the foothill parts of the counties. Those in the mountainous areas were established by South Carolinians who summered there. In I836 a chapel was built for Episcopal families at Flat Rock, called St. John's in the Wilderness. In I859 another church was completed near Fletcher, Calvary Episcopal Church. Miss Fanny Blake contributed thirteen acres and a building in which she conducted a school at Calvary Church from I859 until her death. Tradition has it that a band of Stoneman's cavalry command during his raid in I865 camped for a night in the yard of Calvary Church, and Stoneman was so impressed with the beauty of the church's interior that he ordered his men to take special care not to destroy anything in the House of God. Stoneman was not in the Asheville area during the campaign. The account may be true of part of his command. The story is that the next morning the cavalrymen were permitted to use pieces of the red church carpet for saddle blankets, and they rode away with "red carpet fluttering from their horses' backs." Another chapel was St. Paul's in the Valley which dated from I856. The first services were held in the carriage shed of F. W. Johnstone at Montlove, his summer home. James Stuart Hankie, of the South Carolina Seminary at Camden, served as pastor. Occasionally he preached on Sunday afternoons at the Baptist church in Cathey's Creek community. After Transylvania County was formed a church was organized in Brevard and services at St. Paul's were discontinued in I 884. The Diocese of North Carolina was organized in I 8 r 7 with the Reverend John Stark Ravenscroft as bishop. He was succeeded by Bishop Levi S. Ives, who visited Morganton, Asheville, and Hot Springs when he journeyed through the mountains to Tennessee to organize a diocese there. His interest in Northwest North Carolina was awakened, and in I842 he established at Valle Crucis a boarding school for mountain �84 / Part II: A Changing Society boys and a school of preparation for the ministry. A large farm was acquired and buildings were erected. William West Skiles came from the eastern part of the state to manage the farm and was ordained deacon. Eight candidates for the ministry were educated there. When Bishop Ives resigned Skiles continued his missionary work for ten years although the school stopped. Jarvis Buxton who helped Skiles at Valle Crucis started a school in Asheville. Later another Episcopal school, Ravenscroft, was founded there, and its director, Mr. Hillhouse Buell, established the mission in Brevard that developed into St. Philips Church. St. James Church in Hendersonville was organized in 1840 and consecrated in 1863. The rector, Thomas C. Wetmore, founded Christ School at Arden in 1900. Another St. James grew from a Lutheran church near Lenoir founded by Parson Robert Johnson Miller who later was ordained to the Episcopal priesthood. He had founded Lutheran churches in Lincoln and Burke counties as well. A small group of devoted missionaries held services in Watauga and Ashe counties, and their difficulties were brought home to Bishop Atkinson when he tried to travel from Lenoir to Watauga County on a visitation in 1878. He wrote, "On the afternoon of that day ... I set off ... but found the road so washed by the flood resulting from the heavy rains of the previous day and night, as to be impassable. I then attempted a more circuitous route, but the carriage in which I was travelling was overturned in a stream, which was ordinarily very shallow. I escaped with no more consequence than a wetting of myself and baggage, but I found that further progress up the mountain was impracticable, the road that wound its way up its ascent being washed away." Years earlier, Episcopal churches had been established at Morganton, Rutherfordton, and Wilkesboro through the efforts of Bishop Ives. St. Paul's Church in Wilkesboro had a devoted minister, Reverend Richard Wainwright, who served forty- two years beginning in 1855. He also served as superintendent of schools of the county for twenty years and conducted a private school for young men in his home. His daughter Mary Taylor started a school for girls in Wilkesboro in 1879 and conducted it until 1919, with an average attendance of twenty. Wainwright held services at Wilkesboro once a month, traveling on horseback to other places to hold services on other Sundays. As the number of Episcopal churches increased, a need was felt for a training school for the ministry, and Ravenscroft �Religion / 8 5 School in Asheville offered such work from the late 186o's until about 1890, during which time fifteen candidates for the ministry studied there. Dr. Buxton of Ravenscroft Mission started holding services for Negroes at Trinity Chapel, now St. Matthias. General and Mrs. James Martin drilled Negro classes in the catechisms and teachings of the church, and a day school was held there. The first Negro priest, S. V. Berry, came in 1874 from Western New York to serve at St. Matthias for eleven years. Interest in Valle Crucis was revived in 1893 and an associate mission was established. A school for mountain girls held there is discussed elsewhere. With several churches in Asheville, and small ones in Blowing Rock, Beaver Creek near Jefferson, and All Souls Church in Biltmore built by George Vanderbilt, the Episcopal Church was on sound footing by the close of the century. Other denominations have congregations in Western North Carolina. There are twelve Lutheran churches, five of which are in Watauga County. Two of the latter, Holy Communion and Mount Pleasant, date from 1842 and 1845 respectively. Several Catholic services were held in court houses in various county seats before the first Catholic church was built in Asheville in 1869. As in-migration of the managerial class occurred when industries moved into the area, Catholic churches have been established in the residential areas near the plants as well as in resort communities. Western North Carolina is now being called the "South's Summer Religious Capital." In the Asheville area in 1951 there were ten assembly grounds and in the entire region twentytwo religious conference grounds. The investments in the grounds and buildings amount to millions of dollars, and it was estimated in 1951 that each year the conferees spend almost $5,ooo,ooo. The total of expenditures in the area is larger more than twenty years later. Montreat, established first, dates back to 1897 when the North Carolina General Assembly chartered the Mountain Retreat Association. In 1905 the Presbyterian Church in the United States bought it as a summer conference ground. Since that time it has been used the year around. In 1913 the Montreat �86 / Part II: A Changing Society Normal School was established, the forerunner of MontreatAnderson College. In 1962 more than twenty-one conferences were held at Montreat in September and October alone. Nineteen different groups use the facilities for conferences. Ridgecrest is the second oldest. In 1907 an organizing committee for a Southern Baptist assembly bought 850 acres ofland selected by James M. Tucker of Asheville. He had been the principal author of the idea; he obtained the charter and sold the idea to the Southern Baptists. The Southern Railroad to Asheville passed through the grounds but there was no station, and the assembly grounds could be reached from the east only by a road up the mountain through Swannanoa Gap, which in rain or snow turned to mud. When a railway station was obtained, the stop was first called Terrell's, later Blue Mont, and finally Ridgecrest. The buildings on the assembly grounds have been built gradually until thousands of delegates may be accommodated at one time. In 1965 twenty-two conferences were held from June 10 to September 16. The grounds are administered by the Baptist Sunday School Board of the Southern Baptist Convention. Lake Junaluska, the World Methodist Center, was established by a laymen's missionary movement of the Methodist Episcopal Church South in 1908. It now belongs to the Southeastern Jurisdiction of the United Methodist Church. The World Methodist Council established its headquarters there and the World Methodist Building was erected in 1955. The assembly grounds were opened for conferences in 1913. The tract of 2500 acres contains a beautiful lake of 250 acres. Elmer T. Clark wrote that "Across the years the most famous personalities of Methodism have appeared upon its platform." Another Methodist center is at Hayesville, the Hinton Rural Life Center, dating from 1953 when Mr. and Mrs. Walter Moore deeded four and one-half acres of land and an unfinished hotel building to the Hayesville Methodist Church. With contributions from Mrs. H. H. Hinton, the Duke Foundation, the Annual Conference, and the Waynesville District, and with private gifts, the center was completed to be used by groups in the Southeastern Jurisdiction of the Methodist Church. It is the center for the Appalachian Development program of the Methodist Church, a laboratory school for ministers and students. Camps for boys and girls in conjunction with the conferences �Religion / 87 enable families to spend their vacations m the same general area. Other conference grounds include the following: Lutheridge, near Arden, by the Lutheran Synods in the Southeast; Cragmont, near Black Mountain, for Free Will Baptists of North Carolina, which occupies the old Crag mont Sanitarium; Blue Ridge, near Black Mountain, established by the YMCA of the South in 1906, which serves as headquarters for varied meetings and may be rented by any recognized educational, religious, or social group; Kanuga Lake, in the Hendersonville area, the assembly of the Episcopal Church of the two Carolinas; Bondarken, established at Flat Rock in 1963 by the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church for youth and adult programs for eleven southeastern states; Ben Lippen, a short distance from Asheville, owned by the Columbia (South Carolina) Bible College and used as an interdenominational Christian vacation center; Our Lady of the Hills, near Hendersonville, the assembly of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Raleigh, begun in 1956 and now used as a camp, convention site, retreat, and rest site; Christmont, for the Disciples of Christ, near Black Mountain. Others are Blowing Rock Assembly of the Southern Synod of the Evangelical and Reformed Church, started in 1945 by a gift from the family of Abel A. Shuford; Wildacres, near Little Switzerland, an experiment in the betterment of human relations, open to all denominations for conferences and workshops; the Fellowship of Southern Churchmen, in Buckeye Cove, built to serve as a meeting place for ministers and church groups throughout the South who are unable to find space in any of the other conference grounds. Perhaps the most unusual of the assembly grounds is Fields of the Wood, of the Church of God. On the side of Burger Mountain near Murphy have been constructed a huge concrete cross, the largest altar in the world, a reproduction of the sepulchre from which Christ rose, a stairway with 320 concrete steps, each marked by tablets on which are carved Biblical teachings, and the Ten Commandments laid out in huge stone letters, with each letter five feet tall. �CHAPTER FOUR The Bar and the Forum* The law above all other professions offered its followers the opportunity for political power, public office, and prominence. A man often progressed from solicitor to superior court judge and thence to the state supreme court; or he might be elected to the General Assembly or to the United States Congress. Judge Richmond Pearson's law school, Richmond Hill in Yadkin County, which had ended with his death in 1877, was very popular and prepared more than a thousand young men for the legal profession, but many studied under Judge W. H. Battle at the state university, and others attended the schools of Dick and Dillard in Greensboro, Colonel George Folk of Lenoir, Judge John L. Bailey of Asheville, and A. C. A very of Morganton. There were other lawyers in the West who guided young men in the study of law. In some families it was a tradition that one son would follow his father in the legal profession. Some read law although they had no intention of practicing it. Such was Rufus Lenoir Patterson of the wealthy family of Happy Valley, Caldwell County, who became owner and manager of three manufacturing enterprises and whose cotton mill was burned by Stoneman's troops in the raid through Western North Carolina and Virginia in 1865. Lawyers still accompanied the judge and the solicitor from * The following chapter is not intended as a comprehensive treatment of lawyers and lawmakers in and from Western North Carolina. Rather, it illustrates the quality of the region's lawyers and lawmakers. 88 �The Bar and the Forum / 89 county to county on the circuit, a practice that has been discontinued now when travel is easy. Road conditions during the 187o's made the travel difficult. Colonel Clinton A. Cilley of Lenoir went one day to Morganton for court. His diary entry for that day read, "Left at seven, got beyond the crossroads and turned back by John's River. Went to ferry with Folk and Wakefield, Crossed at three, and walked to Morganton. Paid boy for carrying baggage, 6o¢." The distance was about fifteen miles. At another time going from Lenoir to Jefferson he spent two days on the road each way. He wrote, "Left for Boone 7:Io-toll2o¢. Got into Boone at 5:10P.M. Stay at Coffey's." The following day, "Left for Jefferson at 8 A.M. In at 4: r 5 -last ten miles it rained a good deal." On his return from Jefferson he had to pay 25¢ to have a log chopped from the road. The lawyers usually traveled on horseback, stopped at the same hotels in the towns and at the same wayside inns in the country, sometimes as many as ten or fifteen of them together at one of the country stopping places, and there they would try important cases in their discussions before the cases ever came before the court. The wit and humor of certain of the lawyers, the scholarliness of others, became well known. Isaac Avery commented· on Romulus Z. Linney of Taylorsville and Watauga County (he had a summer home on a mountain top in the latter): "Most men who read literature hold it in reserve as mere ornate punctuation or emphasis for every day speech, but Mr. Linney breathes composite literature at breakfast. In Congressional halls he has caused laughter by the use of colloquialisms which are his birthright, while in the back rural districts he has combined in furious speech Spencer, the Old Testament, Bill Nye, Blackstone, and the Constitution, and aimed them with telling force at an audience that was moved to weep blind tears." Many of the great statesmen of Western North Carolina in the Ante-bellum period had been Whigs who worked for roads and railroads to and in their region and for constitutional reform. Gradually most of them became Democrats or later Conservatives. Those who survived in 1877 were still the great lawyers of the area. David Lowry Swain, native of Buncombe County, lawyer, member of the state House of Representatives, governor at the age of thirty-one, and president of the state university for thirty-three years, died in r868. William Holland Thomas, great benefactor of the Cherokees and organizer of �90 / Part II: A Changing Society a legion of soldiers in the Civil War, who succeeded in getting laws for the cutting of roads from Jones Gap to Caesar's Head, Bakersville to Burnsville, Patterson to Valle Crucis and on to Jonesboro, Tennessee, Zionville to Mountain City, Cataloochee to Newport, Tennessee, Oconalufty through Soco Gap, from V alleytown over the Snowbird Mountains via Robbinsville, was ill and although he lived until I893 he was not able to participate in public affairs by I877. Thomas Lanier Clingman, former United States Senator, who deserted the Whig Party for the Democratic in I 856 over the slavery issue, was living in retirement in Asheville. Augustus S. Merriman became Judge of the Eight Judicial District in I865, was elected United States Senator in I872 and served from I873 to I879. Zebulon Baird Vance, the most spectacular and universally popular man born in Western North Carolina, after serving as war governor of the state, practiced law while the Reconstruction government was in power, was elected Governor in I876, and in I879 was chosen to succeed Merriman as United States Senator. Tad R. Caldwell of Burke County did not join the Conservative Party. He was the Republican lieutenant governor who was promoted to the governor's chair when Holden was impeached and removed from office. Caldwell was reelected to succeed himself, but he died in office in I 87 4· Burgess Sidney Gaither who had practiced law in Morganton since 1829, served in the state Senate, being elected president of that body in I 846, was solicitor of the Seventh Judicial District after 1848, and worked for the election of Bell and Everett of the Constitutional Union Party in I86o. Gaither was pronounced by Judge David Schenck the "leader and father of the Burke County Bar" in 1877. Of Nicholas W. Woodfin of Asheville, who had studied under Michael Francis and Governor Swain, it was said "There is no name in Western North Carolina more identified for the last thirty years- that is beginning with I845- with the material, industrial, and educational interests of that part of the State." Allen Turner Davidson also studied under Michael Francis and in 1845 was licensed to practice law in North Carolina. He established his practice in Murphy, seat of the new county of Cherokee, and traveled the circuit as far east as Cleveland County. The Davidson family was one of the best known in the area. They had come from Pennsylvania in I748, some settling on the Catawba River in present-day Iredell County, others in the Swannanoa Valley. In subsequent generations �The Bar and the Forum / 91 several had gone westward to Tennessee and to Texas. Allen T. Davidson left the law in r86o to become president of the Merchants and Miners Bank of Murphy. During the Civil War he served as an agent of the state commissary department, and after the war he practiced law in Asheville until r885. Among former Democratic leaders of the area, William Waightstill Avery had been killed during a battle with Kirk's raiders in Burke County in r864, but his brother, Alfonso Calhoun Avery, had a successful career as a judge and lawyer, living until I913.JudgeJohn L. Bailey who had been associated with Supreme Court Justice Nash in Raleigh, had moved to Buncombe County and conducted a law school until his death in 1877. Theodore F. Davidson, one of his students wrote, "I think his influence upon the Bar of the Mountain Circuit has been more inspiring and lasting than that of any other member of the profession." A new, younger group oflawyers was appearing in the courts of Western North Carolina in the 187o's and 188o's. In 1884 in the twenty-three counties there were r62 lawyers, many of whom are well remembered for their ability and wit. James Madison Gudger, Jr., and his brother Hezekiah A. Gudger, born in Madison County, were admitted to the bar, H. A. Gudger in 1871 and James M., Jr., in 1878. The latter served as a member of the United States House of Representatives, and Hezekiah was appointed Assistant Attorney General by President Cleveland in 1 89 3. Jeter C. Pritchard said of James M. Gudger, Jr., "[he] had a splendid legal mind and could prepare a case for trial with as much ease and facility as any lawyer I ever knew .... He was always at his best in a rough and tumble contest .... A lawyer who served in the first Cleveland administration was Edmund Jones, related to the Patterson and Davenport families of Caldwell County. He read law under Colonel George Folk and was licensed by the Supreme Court of North Carolina in r88r. His activity in the Democratic Party led to his appointment to a "responsible position in the Treasury Department." He also served five terms in the General Assembly. Kope Elias, born in South Carolina, studied under the Reverend Laban Abernethy at Rutherford College, then under Richmond Pearson. Admitted to the bar in r 870, he �92 / Part II: A Changing Society began his practice in Murphy, moving to Franklin two years later. "At one time he enjoyed the largest practice of any lawyer west of Asheville." He was admired by other members of the bar for his story-telling prowess. Three first cousins, grandsons of Colonel William Moore, pioneer whose homestead is now occupied by the Enka Corporation on Hominy Creek in Buncombe County, became eminent lawyers: Walter E. Moore studied under Dick and Dillard, practiced in Webster, Jackson County, and was made judge of the Twentieth Judicial District in I 926; Charles Augustus Moore studied law with Judge John Bailey in Asheville and practiced in Asheville, serving as Judge of the Buncombe County Criminal Court, 1887-1890; Frederick Moore studied law in Hayesville and at Chapel Hill. He was admitted to the bar in 1892, became a judge at age 29, and served ten years. Frederick's son, a resident of Haywood County, named for his grandfather Daniel Killian Moore, was governor of North Carolina from 1965 to 1969. Locke Craig wrote half a century ago, "For more than a century the Moores have stood in the front rank of the people of Western North Carolina." Theodore F. Davidson, son of Allen Turner Davidson, served in the Civil War, enlisting at sixteen. After the war he studied law under Judge Bailey and was admitted to the bar in 1867. He practiced law with his father in Asheville until 1882. He had become quite active in the Democratic Party, served in the state Senate, and helped to promote the completion of the Western North Carolina Railroad, of which he was made state director in 1879. He developed a great interest in history and collected a notable library. The Daughton brothers, Rufus and Robert ofLaurel Springs, Alleghany County, wielded great influence in state and nation. Rufus, the elder, studied law at the state university and opened his office in Sparta in 1880. In that year he was elected to the state House of Representatives, serving as chairman of the Finance Committee. Robert Lee Daughton, a farmer, was a member of the State Board of Agriculture from I903-1910, a member of the State Prison Board, served as president of the Deposit and Savings Bank of Wilkesboro, and in 1910 he was elected to the Sixty-second Congress where he served continuously until January, 1953. He was a member of the Ways and the Means Committee of the House of Representatives and became its chairman in 1933. �The Bar and the Forum / 93 Thomas C. (Tam) Bowie was a generation younger than the Daughton brothers but he belongs in the same tradition. Born in Louisiana, he came to Ashe County with his mother after the death of his father. His maternal greatgrandfather Elijah Calloway had served in the General Assembly at the age of twenty-one when there was no road to his plantation. Elijah walked from his home on the South Fork of the New River to Raleigh to assume his seat in the legislature, and he secured a bill to build a road from his home intersecting with the stage line from Jefferson to Wilkesboro. Elijah Calloway had the first brick house in his section, and the first house with glass windows. He was a Whig in politics. His son James studied medicine at Jefferson School of Medicine in Philadelphia and settled in Louisiana. After his father's death Tam attended a school at Moravian Falls in Wilkes County, North Carolina, went to Kentucky to work at coal mining on two occasions. He attended Mars Hill College and the University of North Carolina, receiving an A. B. degree in 1899. After a year of study at Yale University Tam returned to North Carolina and studied law at the state university. He was admitted to the bar in 1901. He served in the legislature in the terms of 1908, 1913, 1915 (when he was Speaker of the House) and in 1921 was chairman of the Committee on Roads when the state highway system was created. Governor McLean appointed him a special emergency superior court judge in 1927. He was called a "man with a golden tongue." Locke Craig, child prodigy who went to the University of North Carolina at age fifteen, moved to Asheville after completing his study of law, and set up a practice in r882. He participated actively in Democratic Party politics and in 1898 he campaigned for Aycock. He was in the General Assembly in 1899 and in 1901. In 1908 he ran unsuccessfully for the Democratic nomination for governor, but in 1912 he was elected governor. Most men were content to leave the legislative halls to those trained in the law. Now and again someone from a mercantile family sought and won political honors. James C. Harper, born in Pennsylvania, who moved to Caldwell County after a residence in Ohio in 1840 when the county was being formed, had laid out the town of Lenoir, practiced civil engineering, surveying, and draftmanship, merchandising and textile manufacturing, served in the state House of Representatives 1865-66, �94 / Part II: A Changing Society and was elected to the United States House of Representatives in 1871. Almost a century later James T. Broyhill of Lenoir, associated with the Broyhill Industries, probably the largest family-owned furniture manufacturing concern in the world, represents the Tenth Congressional District. Richard Thurmond Chatham was chairman of the board of directors of the large Chatham Manufacturing Company in Elkin when he was elected to the United States Congress in 1949, and he continued to serve in both capacities until in 1955 he resigned from the chairmanship. He died just before his term in the House of Representatives ended in I957· The Democratic Party in North Carolina has from I 870 until today had a majority in the legislature with one brief exception- r895-190I- the Fusion period. The Fusion period involved the rise of the People's Party or the Populist Party, the fusion of that party with the Republican Party, the temporary overthrow of the Democratic party, and then the restoration of the Democrats to power. Most of the writers concerning the Fusion period have a Democratic bias. The violent political attitudes in the last third of the nineteenth century were the result of the Civil War and Reconstruction. As has been pointed out there were two parties, the Republican and the Conservative, later called the Democratic. The Conservative Party was composed of white men whose desire was to drive the Northern "foreigners" out and to return control of the state government exclusively to whites. The rivalry of the two parties, the Republican to maintain control and the Conservative to gain it, is the story of Reconstruction in North Carolina. The Conservatives captured the legislature in I 870 and the governorship in I876, and North Carolina was Democratic from I876 to I894, when the Republican Party and the Negro were again political factors. The Democrats had chafed under the Reconstruction constitution and had called a constitutional convention that met on September 5, I875. Instead of drawing up another constitution the convention wrote many amendments, two of which were of great importance: the residence requirement for voting would be ninety days rather than sixty, and any person convicted �The Bar and the Forum / 9 5 of a felony could be disfranchised; and the General Assembly was given power to modify, change, or abrogate county governments. The association of the Negro with the Republican Party gave the Democrats the lever by which to control the state. Former Whigs had formed and led the Conservative Party and they refused to use the name Democrat for eight years. But Zebulon Baird Vance and the Democrats defeated the Republicans in 1876 and Vance was hailed as "the redeemeer." The name Democrat became acceptable. The national issues in the r88o's centered around the regulation of railroads, currency fluctuation, tariffs, control of monopolies and agricultural demands by a vocal West. Prior to I 894 no efforts were made by the Democratic Party to foster social and economic reforms, for these were opposed by the industrial and railroad interests. Men in control of the Democratic Party in North Carolina were in alliance with the railroad and manufacturing interests. Many of these men had used the state between I 876 and I 894 to further their own business interests and were content to rest on their chief accomplishment - redemption of the state from Yankees and Negroes. Democrats thus failed to offer North Carolina a vitalized program. This evasion of issues was made possible by reminding the voters of Negro rule under the Republican Party during Reconstruction. From I876 for many years the question of the Negro in politics was the dominant issue in all party affiliations. Democratic election law, Democratic control of county governments gerrymandering, intimidation, manipulation and corruption had kept the party in control from I876 to I894. In I 890 the Democratic Party had two elements: a dominant conservative wing (pro-business, anti-reform) led by a few leaders who controlled the party, and a liberal, agrarian anticorporation wing with spokesmen like Walter Clark and Leonidas Polk. The liberal agrarian element grew in strength because of agrarian discontent and criticism of the railroads. The two farmers' organizations, the Grange in the early seventies and the Farmers' Alliance, which was organized in I887, made little impression in the mountains, but that section benefited from their influence. In the election of I890 the Alliance virtually captured control of the Democratic Party. "The 'Farmers' Legislature of I89I' ... increased the tax rate for public schools, established a normal college for white girls, and an agricultural college and a normal college for Negroes; �96 / Part II: A Changing Society increased the state appropriations to the University and state colleges; [established a School for the Deaf and Dumb in Western North Carolina] and provided state regulation for railways by forbidding rebates and rate discriminations and creating a railroad commission of three members elected by the legislature and empowered to reduce rates and eliminate the special tax exemptions and low assessments enjoyed by the railroads," summarized historian David Holcombe. Again the conservative Democrats c;,ontrolled the party in North Carolina in I894. They stood for laissez Jaire policies, no governmental regulation of railroads, and favoritism to business. It was a large party but it was governed by a few and was interested chiefly in self-preservation. The geography of North Carolina was significant in the development of the post-Reconstruction Republican Party. A few western counties were centers of Republican strength. Sectional hostility had been incited before the Civil War by a lack of just representation in the legislature and the contempt with which non-slaveholding white farmers were treated by the slave-holding oligarchy of the lowlands. After the Civil War many of the small farmers became Republicans. In gubernatorial elections seven mountain counties voted Republican in each election from I 876 through I 896: Ashe, Cherokee Henderson, Madison, Mitchell, Polk, and Wilkes. Nineteen other counties voted Republican during the same period -in other parts of the state. There were forty-seven counties in other parts of the state with from forty to forty-nine per-cent of the vote being Republican during this same period. This potential strength was often sufficient to challenge the Democratic Party at a given election. The Republican votes in the western counties were those of adult male whites, since the Negro population in each county was comparatively small. Because of the Republican counties and the small Democratic majority in many other counties, Western North Carolina was an important political region. It was not the sole determinant in state politics, but mountain leaders exercised importance out of proportion to the size, the population, and the wealth of the area. The resurgence of the Republican Party, I890-1900, was closely linked with the rise of the Populist Party as a result of agrarian discontent which projected the Farmers' Alliance into politics. The Populist Party was a protest against social �The Bar and the Forum / 97 and political grievances which the Democratic Party had done little to alleviate. Since the demands of the Alliance were intended to correct outstanding abuses, its entrance into politics was inevitable. Its leaders wanted it to work with both old parties rather than to form a separate political party. More was expected from the Democrats than from the Republicans in North Carolina since they were the party in power. In I 892 the Alliance split. The more conservative members remained loyal to the Democrats because of the fear of the Negroes and the Republicans. The more radical joined the Populist Party of the midwestern farmers. In I 892 the Populist Party held its first state convention and set forth a progressive platform. W. P. Exum, the party's candidate for governor, received a small vote in the western counties as did James B. Weaver, the Populist candidate for President, but the state as a whole cast a Populist vote which combined with the Republican vote exceeded that for the Democratic candidates. Seven mountain counties voted Republican as usual. In I 894 the Republican and Populist parties endorsed a cooperative ticket. This fusion ticket carried the election. The Democrats retained only forty-six seats in the House and eight in the Senate. The Populists gained thirty-six seats in the House and twenty-four in the Senate, and together the Fusionists elected their Supreme Court ticket and their State Treasurer, and captured control of both houses by a large majority. In Western North Carolina there were sizeable Republican and Populist gains. The legislature in I 895 set the maximum interest rate at six per-cent and provided for a four-month school term. The election of 1896 brought into office Daniel Russell, the only Republican governor in North Carolina, 1877-1973· He carried eleven of the mountain counties. Between I 897 and I 899 the Fusionists were in complete control of the executive, legislative, and judicial offices in the state. Local self-government for the counties was vested in boards of three county commissioners elected by the people. The Fusion period came to North Carolina because economic distress existed and political reforms were needed. The marriage was not permanent. The "white supremacy" campaign of 1898 defeated Fusion and by 1900 the Democrats were again in complete control in North Carolina. They decided to eliminate the Negro as a factor in North Carolina politics by an amendment �98 / Part II: A Changing Society to the constitution combining a literacy test and a grandfather clause provision to disfranchise the Negroes. Although the amendment carried, in only five of the counties of Western North Carolina did a majority of voters approve the amendment which was submitted to them in 1900: Alleghany, Buncombe, Burke, McDowell, and Rutherford. All except Alleghany had fairly large Negro populations. A law passed in 1899 gave the General Assembly the power again to elect county commissioners. During the period of Fusionist rule Jeter C. Pritchard, Republican of Madison County, was elected United States Senator to succeed Zebulon B. Vance who had died. In 1897 Pritchard was chosen by the General Assembly to serve a full six-year term, and when he was defeated for the senatorship in 1903 he was given federal offices, in 1903-1904 as Justice of the Supreme Court for the District of Columbia and from 1904 until his death as Judge of the United States Circuit Court of Appeals for the Fourth Judicial District. The two other United States Senators elected from Western North Carolina since 1903 were Democrats: Robert Rice Reynolds from Asheville, who was elected in 1932 and served until 1945; and Samuel James Ervin, Jr., of Morganton, who served first as a member of the United States House of Representatives to complete the unfinished term of his brother, Joseph William Ervin, who had died, and then in 1954 was elected to the United States Senate to replace Clyde Hoey, deceased. He had been a member of the North Carolina Supreme Court from 1937 to 1943 and again from 1948 to 1950. He still serves in the Senate. Five Republicans have been elected to the United States House of Representatives from Western North Carolina in the twentieth century. Edmund Spencer Blackburn, with a law office in Jefferson, served from 1901 to 1903 and from 1905 to 1907. Charles Holden Cowles of Wilkesboro, who acted as Blackburn's private secretary during his first term, was elected to the House in 1909. Richmond Pearson, son and namesake of the great Chief Justice and law teacher, served in the North Carolina House of Representatives from Buncombe County from 1885 to 1889, and during the four years 1895 to 1899 he was the Representative from the Ninth Congressional District. He was reelected in 1900 but did not complete his term as Theodore Roosevelt appointed him to a succession of diplomatic posts. From 1907 until Taft's inauguration in 1909 he was minister �The Bar and the Forum J 99 to Greece and Montenegro. Except for the leadership of the Roosevelt forces in North Carolina in the campaign of 1912 he did not participate in public life after 1909. Jeter M. Pritchard, son of Jeter C. Pritchard, was a prominent Republican who served in Congress from 1929 to 193 I. James T. Broyhill has represented the Tenth District since 1962. In 1960 nineteen of the twenty-four western counties voted for Nixon for President, although only four voted for Goldwater in 1964. Madison County voted Democratic for the Presidency in both 1960 and 1964. It seems to be anybody's guess how these counties will go politically. Even before a Republican governor was elected in 1972, the choice of the Democratic machine was no longer certain of winning the office. Victories ofKerr Scott in 1948, Terry Sanford in 1960, and Dan K. Moore in an election of great turmoil in 1964 indicate that the Democratic organization can no longer handpick its candidate. No longer is the county courthouse so completely the center of mountain social life but it has remained the center of political life - the seat of power and patronage. Crimes of violence have decreased, more amusements are available, and the coming of the automobile and of good roads has increased social intercourse. County agents, welfare departments, mental health clinics, and county libraries are often centered around the courthouse. The courthouses and the county seats have been the centers of coteries of power, the "courthouse rings," the political machines. Here in these little Tammany Halls the political bosses have dispensed patronage and determined in an autocratic manner the political destinies of the county. In Western North Carolina these political machines were Democratic and were kept in power by friendly Democratic legislatures. In a number of counties Republicans were in the majority but as long as the legislature appointed the county commissioners the county chairman of the Democratic Party had the power, not the Republican representatives in the legislature. He selected the candidates for the office of county commissioner. Often no teacher could obtain or hold a position without his approval. The Democratic legislature appointed the school committees, controlled many of the educational and welfare administrations, �100 / Part II: A Changing Society James Holshouser, elected in No vember 1972 the first R epublican Governor in North Carolina in this century and the _fifth W estern N orth Carolinian elected to that office since 1865. Holshouser is a native of Boone and has practiced law there except when serving in the General Assembly, since his graduation from the University of North Carolina Law School at Chapel Hill. PHOTO COURTESY OF WATAUGA DEMOCRAT and kept a Democratic minority in power. For example, in R epublican Madison County for years a Democratic county boss ruled the county as completely as Huey Long ruled Louisiana. Election of county officials has been restored to the people and recently members of county boards of education have been made elective officers. Over all the counties west of Asheville the Asheville and Buncombe County political machine had tremendous influence. From the end of the Civil W ar to the Depression of the thirties many of the counties were traditionally Republican. Because of the social program of Franklin Roosevelt the Democrats gained the ascendency. Weldon Weir, the city manager of Asheville, Coke Candler, chairman of the board of county commissioners, Lawrence Brown, the sheriff, and Don S. Elias wielded great power. The political adroitness of these m en was �The Bar and the Forum / 101 notable. Weldon Weir was credited with masterminding the fortunes of the Democratic Party in Asheville election after election. For decades Sheriff Lawrence Brown was political arbiter of the county. He built a strong political base by helping the needy and by persistently enforcing the law but used his powers dictatorially. Throughout the 1930's, 1940's, 1950's a third political figure allied with Weir and Brown was Don S. Elias, newspaper owner and financier. He was the third leg of political tripod. He was a statewide figure operating powerfully in local politics. As a newspaper man he often held the politicians in check and served as a balance of power. The political dynasty ruled by these men began to crumble in the 1950's. In 1958 Dave Hall of Webster with the backing of Judge Dan Moore defeated Weldon Weir for the congressional nomination, evidence that no longer did "Big Buncombe," dominate politics west of Asheville. Don Elias had supported Weir and the defeat proved that he was not invincible in the Twelfth District. The passing of Buncombe's dominance was further seen in 1966 when Congressman Roy A. Taylor lost Buncombe by 4000 votes but still won reelection. It had been a truism that to win in the district one had to win in Buncombe. Sheriff Brown's high-handed treatment of Jay Hensley, who had exposed the Democratic toleration of gambling in Buncombe County, and the seizure of liquor bottles at the state convention of the North Carolina Junior Chamber of Commerce after they had condemned Brown's actions aroused such indignation that in 1964 Brown was defeated by Harry Clay and Buncombe had its first Republican sheriff since the 192o's. In 1968 Weldon Weir retired at sixty-two, Coke Candler decided not to run again, Harry Clay was reelected, and the Republicans elected a member of the board of county commissioners. These events are indicative of the resurgence of historic Republican strength in the mountains. The Democratic Party has dominated North Carolina for one hundred years, but the Republican Party is a power to be reckoned with, particularly in Western North Carolina. The lawyers and the legislators, most of whom were lawyers, have profoundly influenced the laws and the politics of the region. Lawyers often dominate the political destinies of their �102 J Part II: A Changing Society towns and counties. They are frequently elected to the legislature or to Congress and they influence the laws that affect the region. Formerly the number oflawyers was small and the contributions of each could be evaluated as Arthur did in his Western North Carolina. Today the number of lawyers with potential political influence is legion and a full treatment of their history would require a lengthy book. �CHAPTER FIVE That All May Live From the time of the first settlement until after the Civil War, most medical needs in the mountains were attended to by granny women, herb doctors, and midwives. There were no railroads, few roads, and the efforts of the occasional doctor on horseback were truly Herculean. During and after the Civil War the movement of troops and the wandering of freedmen was accompanied by epidemic diseases, especially typhoid and smallpox. Out of the memory of the terrible experiences during the war, the state's doctors sought to provide better medical facilities and health measures. The State Medical Society, organized in 1800, given up in 1804, reorganized in 1848, had met annually except during the war. In r 8 59 it had persuaded the General Assembly to establish the requirement that before a new doctor might start his practice he must be passed by the State Board of Medical Examiners. During the trying years of Reconstruction, health measures were not among the issues considered important, but in r875 the legislature authorized the building of the Western Insane Asylum of North Carolina (now Broughton Hospital) at Morganton. It was estimated that there were at least seven hundred "insane" persons in the state who were not receiving treatment. The appropriation of $7s,ooo was made to provide a hospital for four hundred patients. As an economy measure fifty convicts were sent to Morganton to make bricks. The contractor for the bricks was responsible for clothing, feeding, and guarding the prisoners. When the institution was completed, it was already too small to meet the need of the western part of the state, and an additional 103 �104 / Part II: A Changing Society $6o,ooo was appropriated for another wing in I 877. One portion was set aside for those who could pay for their own care. In 1877 a group from the State Medical Society went to Raleigh to lobby and succeeded in getting created a state board of health (with an annual appropriation of $Ioo!). Another act made the county medical societies county boards of health. Two years later, after an intensive campaign by Dr. Thomas F. Wood, Secretary-Treasurer of the new State Board of Health, who sent out hundreds of letters at his own expense, a more effective public health act was passed. A nine-member board (composed of physicians and others, including one civil engineer) was provided for. The revised law had been backed vigorously by the State Medical Society. In the counties of Western North Carolina as late as 1883 only twenty doctors were members of the State Medical Society, and consequently there were no county boards of health to function. Typhoid had a serious incidence in the West, and diptheria abounded. New theories about the causes of these diseases- polluted water, insects, and direct contact- were known only by the few doctors who did attend the meetings of the medical societies or read their journals. In Western North Carolina the doctors had to travel many hours per day (usually on horseback because of the poor mountain roads) to visit the critically sick and to dispense remedies. Some mountain counties had more physicians in I884 than in I958; in I884 Ashe had 8, Clay 4, Graham 5, Mitchell 8, Swain 4, Yancey 6; in I958 Ashe had 6, Clay I, Graham 4, Mitchell6, Swain 4, Yancey 5. But a much smaller number of patients could be seen by a mountain doctor who had to travel to the sick than is possible today. An example was the father of Dr. Gainc Cannon, who practiced medicine in Jackson and Transylvania Counties and in the vicinity of Pickens, South Carolina. Cannon remembered: "Father had to do most of his traveling on horseback, carrying his medicine and instruments in his saddle bags. He rode long distances, and not only were the calls tiring and time-consuming, but he was also often paid poorly. Father could hardly make a call far over into Jackson County and get back the same day. And often he collected not a penny .... Sometimes those who were able to pay him wouldn't do it, even though he charged little. . . . Most of the time he was paid in things the family could eat - a country ham, potatoes, fresh vegetables, ... produce ... from the farms and orchards. �That All May Live / I05 Father couldn't carry much of that sort of stuff on his horse, along with his bulging saddle bags, so often a patient would bring it down to us, sometimes in a cart pulled by an ox." Such doctors had neither the time nor the money to attend meetings of medical societies or to buy medical journals. They continued to practice medicine as it had been taught to them years earlier. Meanwhile the moderately ill were cared for by "granny women," some of whom luckily had a surprising knowledge of herbs and their medicinal values; superstitious and injurious treatments were characteristic of many of them. The majority of the people did not enjoy good health. Chronic ailments were typical. Dr. Benjamin Washburn said that dyspepsia was found in almost all adults and children, caused from "eating thick, soggy corn pone, greasy vegetables, and too much salt pork." Bad sanitary conditions contributed to the typhoid, diarrhea, and other bowel ailments which were common. Other well-known diseases of the area, in the vernacular, were "pneumony fever," "side pleurisy," "joint rheumatism" "jumpin' toothache," the "bloody flux" (dysentery), and "gallopin' consumption." "Dew pizen," it was learned later, was a preliminary stage of hookworm disease. It caused mountain children to have a stunted, anemic condition. "Bold hives" might be scarlet fever or other childhood infections. Babies were usually delivered by ignorant midwives, and as a result many women suffered ill health all their adult lives. Dr. Washburn described medical practice in dealing with the abovenamed diseases in the South Mountain district in Rutherford County, where he began his practice in 1912. Diphtheria and tuberculosis were the great killers. They were so widespread at times that there were epidemics causing a reign of terror. Many children died of diphtheria and were buried in wooden boxes. Eight children died in one family. The philosophic resignation of the parents was expressed by saying "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." With diphtheria a child would be lumpy, listless, feverish. He might have a sore throat. The breathing would be obstructed by a swollen membrane, the pulse rapid, thready, and uncountable. About the sixth day the child would die of toxemia, the effect of the poison produced by the bacteria. Violent pain was usually followed by death. Fortunately, diphtheria is no longer the great child-killer that it once was. Medical science developed an anti-toxin that has almost wiped out the dread disease. �106 / Part II: A Changing Society Another serious epidemic disease, scarlet fever, would sweep through whole neighborhoods. It often affected the kidneys, the brain, the middle-ears, leaving some children deaf mutes. It was less often fatal than diphtheria and would run its course in a week or ten days. It is still dangerous but less prevalent than formerly. Measles was the most highly infectious of the epidemic diseases. It was usually not fatal but often went into pneumonia and complications. Smallpox was the only infectious disease the doctors really knew how to prevent. Vaccinations were used, but so crudely that infections often resulted. A healthy child who had a good "take" was used as the source of vaccine for other children. The doctor scratched a place on the arm until blood began to ooze, then dipped the lancet into the pus on the arm of the inoculated child and rubbed the pus in the scratched arm. Tuberculosis was the great and universal scourge. People believed that its spread was inevitable, the result of the Divine will, an act of God. Patients had a phthisical cough, a fever flush, an elevation of temperature, and they spat, usually on the floor. Isolation of patients was not usual, as the bacterial cause of the disease was not recognised. There was no effort at prevention by quarantine. Poor housing conditions caused the prevalence and virulence of tuberculosis to increase. Yet an area one hundred miles by fifty miles centering in Asheville was believed to have complete immunity from tuberculosis, and, as has been noted elsewhere, the town became a resort for tubercular patients. Surgery was practiced sparingly by mountain doctors because of the antipathy of the people to it. Compound fractures resulted in amputations because it was believed that if there was no amputation the patient would die of infection. Anesthesia was seldom used in the mountains, although elsewhere ether had been used since I 842, and chloroform since I 872. Whiskey was often given to dull the pain during an operation. The mountains were also believed to be safe from yellow fever. During a yellow fever epidemic in Florida in I888 hundreds of people fled from the state. Both Waynesville and Hendersonville welcomed the refugees, 260 coming to Hendersonville. Eastern towns grew alarmed and quarantined against persons coming from Waynesville and Hendersonville. The State Board of Health then forbade the coming of yellow fever refugees to North Carolina. �That All May Live / 107 Meanwhile, in the world at large between 1890 and 1910 the germ theory of disease was thoroughly established and the science of bacteriology developed. The State Board of Health turned its attention to providing safe water supplies and sewage disposal in towns and cities. Its system of disease control included quarantine, abatement of nuisances, and vaccination. A doctor in each county was employed as county superintendent of health. He was chosen by the county board of health, which consisted of all practicing physicians, the mayor of the county seat, the chairman of the county commissioners, and the city or county surveyor. The county superintendent of health performed post mortems for the coroners, registered vital statistics, and attended persons at jails and poorhouses. The education of the people of North Carolina for retention of their health really began with the campaign to eradicate hookworm disease. In 1903 Dr. Charles W. Stiles of the United States Public Health Service addressed the State Medical Society at Hot Springs on the prevalence of hookworm disease in the South. In 1905 Dr. W. P. Ivey of Lenoir, a member of the State Board of Health, read a paper to the State Medical Society titled "Uncinariasis (hookworm disease) in the Mountains of North Carolina." He recommended the holding of clinics, to be attended by doctors who did not attend the meetings of the medical societies, in the counties. He found the disease common in Caldwell County and he believed that other Western North Carolina counties "were wormy too." He ended his paper with the following lines: "Hear, gentlemen, my conclusion. Uncinariasis is among us .... It is a grievous burden .... It is a menace to the neighbors. It kills folks. It makes mental underlings, ... physical dwarfs. It curtails producing power. It steals dollars from our wealth. What are you going to do about it?" The Rockefeller Sanitary Commission spent $15,000 annually in North Carolina for a Bureau of Hookworm Eradication which was established in the state in March 1910. Dr. W. P. Jacocks directed the campaign, which lasted five years. A corps of doctors and microscopists worked in one county after another. First a member of Dr. Jacocks' team visited a county to sell the idea to the county commissioners and ask them for an appropriation. About six weeks later a field director arrived to conduct the treatment. The first week was devoted to advertising and education. Handbills were circulated, and posters were placed �ro8 / Part II: A Changing Society in public buildings such as post offices and stores inviting people to the lectures and demonstrations. An exhibit consisting of a set of large charts to illustrate the lecture showed the life history of the hookworm and the manner in which infection occurred, showed patients before and after treatment and diagrams of privies which would prevent soil pollution. Hookworm eggs and larvae were shown under the microscope. About five places in each county were designated for the holding of clinics, and at each a dispensary was held once a week for five weeks. A typical one, at Mill Spring in Polk County, was described by Dr. Washburn, who joined the campaign in 1913. Men, women, and children began arriving at the designated spot at 8 A.M. Approximately two hundred people came: in buggies, on horse back, and in wagons. Activities were varied. People who had been treated previously were examined to determine the extent of improvement, after which a lecture was given explaining how hookworm disease stunted the mental and physical growth of children. Then additional diagnoses were made and medicine (large capsules of thymol mixed with milk sugar) was distributed. The clinic was like an all-day picinic, and most of those who came in the morning stayed throughout the activities. They examined an exhibit showing how soil pollution, flies, dirty food, and contaminated water could cause hookworm disease. Typhoid, it was explained, was spread in the same way. About half an hour was spent by the crowd in singing, led by a volunteer with a tuning fork, while the microscopist prepared a report on specimens brought in. People had packed picnic lunches and the clinic recessed long enough for the meal. Other families arrived in the afternoon, and the clinic lasted until nearly five o'clock. One of the lessons taught in all of the counties was that the placing of privies over swift-running streams as was customary in the mountains, when homes boasted privies at all, caused pollution of water that could seep into the springs from which the drinking water was taken. Efforts were made to persuade county boards of education to provide safe drinking water and sanitary privies at each school. All but one county, Ashe, appropriated funds for the hookworm eradication campaign. Even in counties where the incidence of the disease was small, the educational value of the program was tremendous because through it people learned how to �That All May Live / 109 prevent other serious diseases. After the hookworm campaign ended in 1915, public health work was continued with the fulltime services of a county doctor in several counties, including two in Western North Carolina, Surry and Buncombe. Practically all of the 206 physicians in Western North Carolina in 1884 were general practitioners. Many of them were of well-known families that had furnished leaders in other professions as well. Moreover, it was not unusual to find two and even three doctors in a county with the same surname, of whom two were often father and son.* In many families it was a tradition for one son to be a physician. The doctors, in addition to the strenuous obligations of their profession, were often civic leaders: trustees of academies, members of local school boards, and of the county boards of health. Such a leader was Dr. James A. Reagan, physician and surgeon, who served as president of Weaverville College for three years from its incorporation as a college (1873) and who continued after that to serve as a trustee. Dr. H. B. Weaver of Asheville in an obituary to Reagan in 1910 described his public service: "In the heat and in the cold; up the rugged mountain sides . . . ; down the sunless valleys; in dangers seen and unseen he never faltered .... No matter from where the cry for relief came, ... he responded .... " As time passed many of the doctors opened parts of their homes or built special buildings in which they maintained clinics or hospitals. This practice continued in smaller communities until well into the twentieth century. It made possible surgery and more sanitary nursing conditions and saved many lives. Then there were physicians who were not native to Western North Carolina who came in after completing medical school because of an invitation by the community, such as Dr. W. C. Tate, who came to Banner Elk to conduct a small hospital already established, and Doctors Eustice H. and Mary Martin Sloop, * For example, there were doctors C. B. Roberts, R. K. Roberts, and Robert Roberts in Haywood County; drs.J. L. Egerton and Thomas Egerton, G. W. Fletcher and M. H. Fletcher, and Josiah Johnson and L. L. Johnson all in Henderson County; Latta Reagan and W. S. Reagan in Madison County, Oliver Hicks and Romeo Hicks in Rutherford County, to name only a few. �no / Part II: A Changing Society who founded a hospital in Crossnore. An example of Western North Carolina doctors who devoted much of their professional lives to public health work is Dr. Lewis Burgin McBrayer of Buncombe County. He was licensed in I 890 and conducted a surgical practice in Asheville until 1909, when he became city health officer. Sanitation, especially concerning water and milk supply, was emphasized during his administration. Meanwhile the State Medical Society had organized an association to combat tuberculosis, and Dr. McBrayer worked at Raleigh in 1907 with the General Assembly to get the State Sanatorium for Tuberculosis established. In 1914 he left the mountains to serve as superintendent of the Sanatorium for ten years. He played a part in getting another state tuberculosis sanatorium established, in Western North Carolina, and in setting up public health nursing. He was president of the State Medical Society in 1914, and from 1917 to 1937 he was its secretary-treasurer. The resolution passed by the State Medical Society at his death included these words: " ... his pioneering labors in this field [of fighting tuberculosis] won for him and for his state nation-wide recognition." When Dr. McBrayer became superintendent of the State Sanatorium for Tuberculosis he replaced Dr. ]. E. Brooks, who then (1914) came to Blowing Rock to retire. There was no resident physician in the village at that time, and although at first Dr. Brook's health did not permit him to do more than answer emergency calls, he eventually maintained an office practice in Blowing Rock. He was aghast at the opportunities that the tourist center offered for the spread of contagious diseases. Conditions were no doubt similar in most of the mountain villages, and the crowding in of summer visitors in the resort centers made the danger of epidemics even greater. Dr. Alfred Mordecai described the situation. Within the village the average family had a stable for the horse and one or more cows, a pigpen, a chicken lot, an outdoor privy, a spring, and a garden. No screens were used to keep the flies out of the houses. Garbage was thrown out to the pigs and chickens. While the larger hotels were situated on hills apart from the village center, they had their stables and "a retinue of stable boys and domestic servants, who were very prone to use the back lots and bushes instead of the surface privies provided for them." Diseases such as typhoid and smallpox were increasing in frequency. �That All May Live j II I Dr. Brooks began holding "fireside chats" with civic leaders, inviting one or more to visit with him to talk about community affairs. He pointed out the unsanitary conditions and what they might lead to. At "smokers," suppers and other meetings the local citizens were roused to action. Dr. Brooks brought such speakers as Governor Thomas W. Bickett, future governor Cameron Morrison, and James I. Vance, D. D., to speak on the subject of public health. Soon the fly breeding places were eliminated. A chamber of commerce and other civic organizations developed from Dr. Brooks's work. Tuberculosis was very prevalent in Watauga County and that part of the state, and Dr. Brooks launched a drive to control it. He believed that socio-economic conditions caused its spread, and he lectured in schoolhouses throughout the area, asking people to stop their promiscuous visiting with sick people whose illnesses had not yet been diagnosed and to provide their families with less crowded living conditions. An epidemic of smallpox in Watauga County in I9I4 followed by one of diphtheria in 1915 caused people at least to heed his advice about visiting. Dr. Brooks's services continued in Blowing Rock until his death in 1921.* A Philadelphia physician, Dr. Henry Norris, and Mrs. Norris, came several times to Rutherford County for Dr. Norris to hunt. They visited often at the Coxe estate, Green River Plantation. They made friends in Rutherfordton and came to realize that there was no hospital between Charlotte and Asheville at a time when travel was slow and difficult. In 1905 the Norrises decided to found a hospital in Rutherfordton. The buildings of a former military academy were purchased and reconditioned, and the hospital functioned there from 1906 until 1911, by which time Dr. and Mrs. Norris had built and equipped an excellent new facility. In 1907 Mrs. Norris organized a school of nursing at the Rutherford Hospital. Dr. Norris and Dr. Montgomery Biggs, and two nurses, all from Philadelphia, soon won a widespread reputation for excellence. Additional * Alfred Mordecai, "James Edwin Brooks, M. D.," Part II, North Carolina Medical journal Oune, 1958), 238-242, described intimately his association with Dr. Brooks. In a letter to Ina Van Noppen, Dr. Mordecai wrote, "I entered the practice of medicine in 1915 at Blowing Rock and sat in quite often at his [Dr. Brooks'] fireside chats .... I was so impressed by the work of Dr. Brooks that I later entered the field of Public Health in Western North Carolina.... I think he could be called the Father of Modern Sanitation and Health Education in Watauga County." �I 12 f Part II: A Changing Society equipment and space were added from time to time, and after the death of Dr. and Mrs. Norris a Committee of Friends of the Hospital raised funds in 1941 for a Norris Maternity Building. Its construction was delayed by World War II, enabling Rutherford Hospital to acquire a much larger building than had been anticipated. In 1946 Congress passed the Hill-Burton Act to give federal funds to communities to match local funds for the construction of non-profit hospitals. Thereupon the North Carolina Medical Care Commission was created to administer a combination of state and federal aid to counties that wished to build hospitals. Consequently in 1951 a new wing which doubled the bed capacity of the Rutherford Hospital was built and a completely modernized hospital was dedicated. Another new building, the Crawford Memorial Building for the School of Nursing, was dedicated in 1956 and conditions for teaching were improved through a grant from the Ford Foundation in 1957. The nursing education program was transferred to Gardner-Webb College at Boiling Springs, in 1965, with students doing their clinical work at the Rutherford Hospital. Grace Hospital in Morganton is another excellent institution of the same age as the Rutherford Hospital. Miss Maria P. Allen, a graduate of the Episcopal Hospital in Philadelphia who was serving as a visiting nurse in Burke County, wrote an article, "The Spirit of Missions," in which she explained the need for $3000 for a small hospital. The money was given by a generous woman in New York. The Reverend Walter Hughson, rector of Grace Episcopal Church of Morganton, established the hospital in 1906 in a frame building containing fifteen beds. Dr. E. W. Phifer, who had been in practice in Morganton for four years, generously contributed administrative services, and he and Dr. J. B. Riddle were the hospital staff. In 1918 Dr. W. H. Keller joined the two. In 1920 a new brick hospital was built, and staff and services have grown until in 1950 there were 120 beds and a staff of twenty-five specialists and generalists. A school of nursing was established in 1910 with Miss Maria Allen as its director. By 1950 about 230 nurses had graduated. In addition to their clinical experience in Grace Hospital student nurses were given a twelve week affiliation course in psychiatric nursing at Highland Hospital in Asheville and a twelve week course in pediatric nursing at Duke University Hospital. In 1959 Lenoir Rhyne College in Hickory engaged in a joint program to offer college degrees for Grace Hospital School of �That All May Live / I I 3 Nursing graduates. Subsequently the School of Nursing was discontinued; now Lenoir Rhyne's nursing students obtain their clinical training at Grace Hospital. Burke County has recently added a splendid new hospital. Before 1945 there were hospitals with seventy-five or more beds, outside the urban area of Buncombe County, only in Burke, Haywood, and Rutherford counties. Ashe, Macon, McDowell, Caldwell, Transylvania, and Jackson counties had more than forty hospital beds each, while Watauga, Avery, Cherokee, and Swain counties had hospitals with fewer than forty beds. Since then many new hospitals have been built. By 1958 there were 3.2 short-stay hospital beds per one thousand population in Western North Carolina, while for the state as a whole the average was 3.3 beds per one thousand. In addition, new public health centers were constructed between 1948-1958 with federal aid in all of the counties except Buncombe and Henderson. Nurses' training in the 196o's was largely taken over by the educational institutions, practical nursing courses being given by Wilkes Community College, Asheville-Biltmore Technical Institute, and Caldwell Community College near Lenoir. A two year course in nursing is offered at Western Piedmont Community College in Morganton terminating in the Associate of Applied Science degree, and a four year course in nursing given at Mars Hill College leads to the B.S. degree. The three hospitals in Western North Carolina in 1966 that still had hospital schools of nursing were Martin Memorial at Mt. Airy, Memorial Mission in Asheville, and Mountain at Fletcher. A very special institution in Western North Carolina is Western Carolina Center, located just outside Morganton. It is one of four state-supported residential centers for mentally handicapped children. A part of the North Carolina Department of Mental Health, it serves thirty-two western counties. In 1959 the legislature appropriated $4,500,ooo for its construction, and the first patients were admitted in 1963. The center's director, Dr. J. Iverson Riddle, stated that the Center provides diagnosis, treatment, and care for the mentally handicapped child by the use of the "multi-discipline approach to the total child." Regimentation is avoided and each child is treated as an individual who may return to his community and live a relatively normal life. Two hundred eighty acres of land with rolling hills and the South Mountains in the background form the setting �I I 4 / Part II: A Changing Society for the sixteen buildings, including residence cottages, academic buildings, diagnostic clinic, hospital for crippled children, infirmary, an additional children's unit of I20 beds, and workshop. The population consists of adults and children with an average age of eighteen. The capacity, 832 in 1970, will be increased constantly as new "cottages" are completed. Morganton has become one of the four regional health centers in the state. In 1959 the name of the North Carolina Mental Hospital (earlier the Western Insane Asylum of North Carolina) was changed to Broughton Hospital. The School for the Deaf, Broughton Hospital, and the Western Carolina Center are appropriately located in the same community. Many of the techniques used in teaching deaf children can also be used successfully with mentally handicapped children who have communication difficulties, and the psychiatric staffs at Broughton and Western Carolina Center can complement each other. The Mental Health clinics located in a number of the thirty-two mountain and piedmont counties served by the Center and by Broughton Hospital are associated with the two by an administrative staff. Also served is the Western North Carolina Correctional Center in Morganton, a new type of prison where rehabilitation rather than punishment is the aim. Related to the health of the people are water, air, and noise pollution and contamination of soils and foods from pesticides. There is today a world-wide concern over pollution of the environment. Man pollutes the air, water, and land with noxious fumes, sewage, noise, pesticides, and nuclear radiation. With the population explosion and the proliferation of manufacturing plants, pollution is being highly accelerated. The fouling of the world's land, air and water is the fastest-spreading disease of civilization. It is potentially one of history's greatest dangers to human life on earth. If present trends continue it will make all of the world's cities and most of the countryside uninhabitable. Toxic gases and "killer smogs," suspended over cities, contain sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxide, ozone, and carbon monoxide, and cause lung cancer and emphysema and can actually asphyxiate respiratory sufferers. These gases emanate from automobile exhausts, smokestacks, and incinerators. They can be reduced by fitting offending smokestacks with filters and electrostatic precipitators and by inducing factories to use low-sulfur fuels. �That All May Live J I I 5 Automobiles can be equipped with anti-pollution devices. As early as I932 Asheville citizens circulated petitions requesting smoke control. June 3, I932, the town council adopted an anti-smoke ordinance which was not entirely effective. A cooperative study in I963 by the City of Asheville, the Buncombe County Health Department, and the North Carolina State Board of Health found that Asheville still had a serious smoke and air pollution problem. In I964 it was found that air pollution was damaging trees and shrubs, and in I965 a federal grant of $23,945 was made to enable Asheville to study its air pollution problem. January I, I965, a two-year study was begun during which many industries installed or began installation of air-control equipment. Recommendations were made for (I) adoption of regulations by four county boards of health, (2) the establishment of air-monitoring stations, (3) education, (4) enforcement, (5) coordination of administration. In I966 clean-air rules were adopted for the Asheville area. In 1967 the North Carolina General Assembly added air pollution control to the water control program and created the Board of Water and Air Resources to study the problem, to devise means of control, and to supervise local air control programs. The Assembly offered tax benefits for air pollution abatemant facilities. A law was passed, to be administered by the North Carolina Board of Water and Air Resources. This law is not yet effective, as only after July I, I974, will industries face fines of $I,ooo a day. Even then there will be many loopholes, and it is feared that the state board will be unable to resist pressure from industries. June 25-26, 1968, upon request of Governor Moore, a conference on Appalachian Development was held at AshevilleBiltmore College (now the University of North Carolina at Asheville). In this conference all forms of pollution and programs of pollution abatement were discussed. It is evident that cities, towns, and industrial plants in Western North Carolina have air pollution problems. It is a hopeful sign that organized and concerted efforts are being made to ameliorate conditions on local, state, and national levels. If these efforts are to be effective, laws with teeth in them must be enacted and enforced. Penalties must be sufficiently severe to induce compliance by offenders. The magnitude of the air pollution problem may be perceived from the fact that the United States Department of Health, Education, and Welfare estimates that air pollution costs more than $r3,ooo,ooo,ooo annually. �I I 6 / Part II: A Changing Society Far older and much more widespread in Western North Carolina than air pollution is the problem of water pollution. The sharp increase in water pollution is alarming. "Every major river in the United States is grossly polluted. Even the lesser streams have been made slimy and foul by factories [and towns] that freely sluice their noxious wastes into any nearby flow .... We ctre pumping enough poisons into our environment - and into our bone and flesh - to threaten the survival of the species within two or three decades." This water pollution problem can be improved by the treatment and purification of sewage and industrial wastes. For almost one hundred years doctors in North Carolina have been concerned about water pollution. They organized and served on county boards ofhealth. They worked and educated to eliminate "privies" in thickly settled areas, to get communities to create water and sewer services, and to eliminate unsanitary conditions that might cause epidemics. In I89I "the State Board of Health was given responsibility for protecting streams used as sources of public water supplies from municipal sewage ... " but little attention was given to the pollution of other streams by industrial wastes. On August IO, I927, a conference was held at Canton, North Carolina, at the request of the State Health Officer of Tennessee. Present were Mr. Reuben Robertson, president of the Champion Paper and Fibre Company, officials of the North Carolina State Board of Health, and the district engineer of the United States Public Health Service. The meeting concerned possible measures for correction of pollution of the Pigeon River in the interest of protecting the water supplies of Tennessee from wastes emitted by the Champion Paper and Fibre Company. Thus as early as I927 water pollution was recognized as an interstate matter. In the earlier decades of this century conservationists were concerned about the preservation of the forests. By I939 the protection of forests and timber was under relative control. Industries were induced to come to the mountains, population increased, and the water pollution problem was magnified. Little effort was made to stop stream pollution by industrial plants until the present stream sanitation law was passed by the General Assembly in I95 I. The act created a Stream Sanitation Committee and required it to establish water quality standards �That All May Live J I 17 in keeping with "best usage," to study pollution of the state's waters, to classify the waters in the public interest, and to develop a stream pollution control program. Articles began to appear in the Asheville Citizen under such titles as "Problem of Stream Pollution," (1951), "TVA Claims Three Plants Pollute Streams in Western North Carolina" (1953), "Polluted French Broad Blemish on Western North Carolina Scenery" (1957), "Plan to Abate French Broad Valley Stream Pollution Drafted" (1958), "Fifty Towns and Industries Filed Plan for Pollution Control" (1960), "Good Progress in Cleaning Western North Carolina Streams (Champion Spending $J,OOo,ooo, Hendersonville $r,ooo,ooo, Enka and Buncombe County $7,500,ooo)" (1963), "North Carolina Has Spent over $2oo,ooo,ooo on Water Pollution in Fifteen Years" (1966), "State Water and Air Control Councils Appointed" (1967), "Twenty Projects to Stop Stream Pollution- to Remove Damage of Pesticides" (1968). The French Broad River Basin encompasses 2825 square miles in North Carolina and it is a major part of the Tennessee River system. The North Carolina portion of the basin contains the French Broad, the Pigeon, and the Nolichucky rivers and their tributaries. Studies were made in the 1950's of the pollution of the streams, under the auspices of the State Stream Sanitation Committee. The 1950 population was 247,290, of which twentyone percent lived in Asheville. There were eighteen public water systems in the basin serving an estimated population of 149,645 which used 2o,ooo,ooo gallons of water daily. There were thirty points of significant water pollution. Total wastes from these points had an estimated domestic sewage population equivalent of 1,096,280. Only a small percentage of the waste load received treatment before it went into the streams. The basin is rich in natural resources and scenic attractions. It has abundant water power and adequate water supplies to sustain an increased population and additional industries if stream pollution can be controlled. The smaller streams were relatively unpolluted; but the French Broad, Hominy Creek, Pigeon River, Nolichucky River, Tucker Creek, Davidson River, and the North and South Toe Rivers received excessive amounts of waste. The amount of wastes from cities and particularly from industrial plant is frightening, although many communities and the major industrial plants are making efforts to solve their �I I 8 / Part II: A Changing Society pollution problems. The Ecusta Paper Corporation, a branch of Olin Mathieson, in I955 emitted wastes equal to those of a city of 249,000. Part of these wastes were treated, part were not. Asheville drained the majority of its wastes into streams untreated or with only primary treatment. In Asheville and its suburbs are twelve sanitary districts. The wastes and sewage from these and from towns, plants, and schools all the way to Mars Hill, Marshall, and Hot Springs were discharged untreated into streams. In Haywood County the wastes of Canton, Clyde, Waynesville, and Lake Junaluska were discharged into the Pigeon River. In I957 the wastes discharged by the Champion Paper and Fibre Company were equal to those from a population of 624,000. Around Bakersville, Burnsville, Spruce Pine, tremendous amounts of water were used by the mining industry to separate the earth from the minerals. The resultant wastes going into the Nolichucky River extended for a great distance downstream and caused complaints from people living in Tennessee. In I959 all agencies of the Department of Conservation and Development were reorganized in a Department of Water Resources. One of this department's four major divisions, that of Stream Sanitation and Hydrology, is responsible for pollution abatement and control. The Department of Water Resources administers policies concerning stream pollution, ground water supplies, and surface water. The seven-man Board of Water Resources and the seven-man Stream Sanitation Committee have parallel responsibilities. The Stream Sanitation Committee has studied all of the state's sixteen major river basins. By I963 it had adopted "best usage" classifications for all basins and had issued pollution abatement plans for thirteen river basins, ninety-two percent of the state. In I957 the Department of Conservation and Development established a Division of Community Planning to help cities and towns with land-use planning. Resource planning is being conducted by the local Area Development Associations. These are beginning to be effective. The Western North Carolina Regional Planning Commission released its first economic study in I96I. Another study was that of Asheville Township which presented a twenty-year plan for physical development. In this plan "conservation easements" were recommended to induce industries to cooperate. �That All May Live / I I9 Using a grant from the Appalachian Regional Commission, the State Planning Office employed the firm of Rummel, Klepper, and Kahl (I968) to study selected growth areas along interstate and Appalachian Corridor highways. This company's report contained significant information. There are seventy community water systems in the North Carolina portion of Appalachia. Many are outdated or loaded to capacity. They must be enlarged and improved to provide for increasing population and additional industrial plants. Sixty communities now provide sewer services. Twenty-eight of these have satisfactory facilities, twenty-one have under construction or are preparing to construct the needed facilities, two are having financial difficulties, I I7 other unsewered communities need facilities. About $4oo,ooo,ooo for construction by communities will be needed. Of industries, eighty-one have significant water discharges into streams. Of these, sixty-four are providing adequate treatment, seventeen are not. Tourism, present and future, is the lifeblood of the economy of Western North Carolina. The area has the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the Blue Ridge Parkway, extensive fishing and wildlife, recreation facilities, and many summer camps. With its beautiful scenery and its enticing climate, the region has the greatest tourist and vacation attractions in Eastern America. But if tourists are to continue to come to the mountains, towns and plants must study their problems and provide waste treatment facilities. Daily in newspapers and on television there are articles and comments by public men about pollution control. A crusade against pollution was well begun by 1970. Pollution is often an interstate problem. Rivers rising in Western North Carolina flow into Tennessee, Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia. It was the complaint of Tennessee authorities in I927 that first caused North Carolina health authorities and the Champion Paper and Fibre Company in Canton to become concerned about pollution control. Nevertheless, progress was negligible for many years. Currently the people of Ashe and Alleghany counties are being asked to have acres of their richest farm lands inundated so that pollution wastes can be flushed from the New, the Kanawha, and the Ohio rivers in West Virginia. Local and state agencies must do their parts. The state must pass effective statutes and enforce them effectively. Strong federal laws must �I 20 f Part II: A Changing Society be enacted to control the major polluters: automobiles, factories, cities, and towns. A good example was the Water Quality Act of 1965, which provided for the adoption of water quality standards for interstate and costal waters by all the states. The federal government has the power through its control of interstate commerce, interstate relations, and its taxing powers. Penalties should be sufficiently high to induce compliance, and the statutes should be firmly enforced. Again it must be a uniformly applicable federal program; otherwise states that stringently enforce pollution control might find industries moving to states with less expensive programs of regulation. Furthermore federal funds must be made available, for many communities lack the needed finances to meet their needs. If the federal government will do its part, the State of North Carolina can cooperate through its Department of Conservation and Development, and its Boards of Water and Air Resources with their Sanitation Committees. Local communities and industries must cooperate and expend their own funds to meet their individual responsibilities. �CHAPTER SIX Public Education The great cultural progress made in Western North Carolina since is due largely to the improvement in its schools. The change was statewide and must be seen within the framework of state legislation and judicial opinion. Over half of the General Fund of North Carolina annually now is spent for public education. 1900 "I have visited several places in this Western North Carolina -and have found a kind and hospitable people wherever I have gone. Truly there seems a wide field open ready for the laborer in this portion of our State. Good teachers are wanted .... I am satisfied to cast my lot among this people and if my impressions remain what they are and my school flourishes- this will probably be my home for some time to come." So wrote George F. Dixon to his friend Calvin Wiley, past General Superintendent of Common Schools, indicating that Dixon was opening a subscription school in Watauga County in the year following the end of the Civil War. Such schools were springing up in the mountain region and across the state. The office of General Superintendent of Common Schools had just been abolished by the General Assembly. The county courts were authorized to apply any school taxes collected to subscription schools, which were to be permitted to occupy public schoolhouses to prevent the buildings from falling into decay from nonuse. Private (i.e. subscription) schools did spring up everywhere, but they I2I �122 / Part II: A Changing Society An early school, no windows, no stove, only a hearth for light and heat School terms were short, and boys and girls attended until well along in their teens �Public Education f 123 served only a limited number of children. This was a sad climax to the movement which had been hailed as the first effort of a Southern state to give serious attention to providing a system of public schools for the education of all of its white children. The Literary Fund, founded in 1826, which had been the state's contribution to the support of the schools, had been all but wiped out by the worthlessness of state and Confederate securities, and the Assembly ruled that any moneys remaining be placed in the State Treasury for general expenses. During the remainder of the century the state followed an exploratory pattern, revising the public school law each biennium. The groundwork was laid by the Constitutional Convention of r868, which consisted of eighteen Northern men, fifteen Negroes, sixty-four Radicals (Republicans), and thirteen Conservatives (Democrats). The convention adopted a resolution stating that " ... the interest and happiness of the two races would be best promoted by the establishment of separate schools." The most significant educational provisions of the constitution they wrote were these: "The General Assembly at its first session under this Constitution shall provide by taxation and otherwise for a general and uniform system of public schools, wherein tuition shall be free of charge to all children of the State between the ages of six and twenty-one years. Each county shall be divided into a convenient number of districts in which one or more Public schools shall be taught at least four months in every year; and if the county commissioners of any county shall fail to comply with the aforesaid requirements of this section they be liable to indictment." One of the Northern members of the Constitutional Convention, Samuel S. Ashley of Massachusetts, was elected Superintendent of Public Instruction in r868. He had been in the state only three years, having been sent by the American Missionary Association to conduct a Negro school in Wilmington. It was his responsibility to rebuild the public school system, and he wrote the school law of r 869 to implement the provisions of the constitution. The townships, new subdivisions of the counties provided for by the constitution, were to play an important part in his plan for the operation of the schools. The township board of trustees, elected annually by the registered voters, would receive yearly from the township school committee an estimate of the financial requirements for supporting a fourmonth term for all of its schools each year, and at the annual �I24 / Part II: A Changing Society township meeting would submit it for a vote. If the township voters failed to levy the tax, the committee would forward the estimate to the county commissioners, who were to levy the required taxes under penalty of indictment. The constitutional provision and the law to implement it were excellent, but in I87I the State Supreme Court ruled that such a levy by the county commissioners was not constitutional on the theory that schools were not a necessary expense. While the General Assembly could levy a tax without the consent of the people, so ruled the court, the county commissioners could not do so without the approval of the people. And so the plan failed before it ever got into operation. While the communities could vote a tax, the compulsory aspect of the law was annulled. Lacking the tax monies that were to have been levied by the communities under the constitution, funds provided for the support of public schools by the General Assembly were woefully inadequate. The school law of r867 provided that seventyfive percent of a poll tax of $1.05 would be used for schools and that an additional appropriation of $roo,ooo from the state treasury would be apportioned among the counties. The appropriation was not made in I 868- I 869, but by I 870 a special tax of eight and one-third cents on one hundred dollars valuation was levied to pay the $roo,ooo. Other sources of school funds were taxes on retailers and auctioneers, fines, penalties, forfeitures, and entries of vacant lands and swamp lands. Instead of providing for free public schools the General Assembly in I 87I levied a new statewide tax of six and two-thirds cents on one hundred dollars valuation and a twenty cent poll tax, to supplement the revenue from the existing provision that seventy-five percent of all county and state poll taxes, be allocated to the counties for the support of schools. The funds from these several sources were to provide fifty cents per month for each scholar in any "free school" that might be established. In communities where taxes to support schools were not voted, the "free schools" were often subscription schools. All children who could afford to pay tuition were expected to do so in such a union of private with public schools, and only students unable to pay were admitted free of tuition. Neighborhoods that took the initiative to start a school would receive the state aid, and those that did not would lose their share of the school money, although an amendment in 1873 �Public Education / I25 gave such districts the right to acquire credit for their share of the school money, to be used later. Ashley resigned as superintendent in I87I and was followed in office by a quick succession of other men, but the situation did not change. The incumbent superintendent in 1874 reported the policy thus: "The State does not go into the school districts and establish a school without any effort on the part of the people of the district. It rather aids the people to establish their own school." What the state's policy had created was a voluntary system in which each community could determine the kind of schools and the amount of schooling it wanted to have. Supervision of public schools was practically nonexistent from r865-188I, as there was no local official charged with their operation. An ex ojficio state board of education was provided for by the constitution of 1868. It consisted of the governor, lieutenant governor, secretary of state, state treasurer, auditor, superintendent of public works, superintendent of public instruction, and attorney general. The county board of education was also ex officio, consisting of the county commissioners, with the chairman of the board of county commissioners as chairman of the board of education. This board was to supervise the public schools and to appoint one resident of the county of good moral character and of suitable attainments to be styled the "county examiner." He would examine all applicants for teachers' certificates at the county court house and issue certificates of three grades, to be valid only in the county where issued. Later each county was provided with a board of three examiners. In 1881 county superintendents were provided for, to be elected by joint meetings of the county commissioners and the county boards of magistrates. A law in I 885 required that separate county boards of education be elected by the two abovementioned boards. In spite of their lack of professional education, some of the teachers in the 187o's were engaging in professional activities. In 1872 a State Educational Association was formed at Wilmington. It met in Raleigh for three days in I873, "organized permanently," and adopted a resolution recommending the establishment of permanent county educational organizations. This organizational movement began to be felt even in the western counties, as in Henderson County, where an educational association was formed in 1874. The members at the Raleigh meeting in I 873 prepared a "memorial" to present to the General �I26 J Part II: A Changing Society Assembly stating the improvements needed in the public schools. In 1877 Governor Vance presented such a memorial to the General Assembly, asking that body to give its attention to education. The school law of 1877 included two significant provisions. One was to create two normal schools, the first at the state university for white students and the second at Fayetteville, for Negroes (the normal schools will be discussed later). The other provision was to permit any township containing a city of 5,000 or more inhabitants, upon the petition of one hundred "respectable citizens," to vote upon the levying of an annual tax for support of one or more graded schools in such township. Greensboro and Charlotte already had graded schools which had been established under clauses in their charters, but there was no township in Western North Carolina that could qualify in population for a graded school district under this law. In 1879, however, the General Assembly passed a law directing the commissioners of Buncombe County, upon the petition of one hundred "respectable citizens" who were freeholders of the city of Asheville, to submit to the voters the question of a special school tax. Not until 1887 did Asheville approve the plan, and even then "the opposition was keen and the proposal carried by one vote." The town had some excellent private schools and some of the most influential citizens disapproved of public schools. In I 879 Governor Vance became a United States Senator and Thomas Jordan Jarvis, Lieutenant Governor, succeeded to the office of Governor, to which he was reelected two years later. His six years were to be felt in Western North Carolina in the completion of the Western North Carolina Railroad, the establishment of the State Geological Survey, the Agricultural Experiment Station, and some improvement of the public schools. In 1881 he described to the legislature the current condition of the state's schools, stressing the need for additional normal schools and increased taxation. The assembly increased the tax rate to twelve and one-half cents per one hundred dollars valuation and the poll tax to thirty-seven and one-half cents. Until uniform schooling and compulsory attendance grew out of the state's increasing awareness of its responsibility for �Public Education / 127 education, the development of schools was not systematic. The opportunities for an education depended on many things: local initiative in providing the funds and buildings; efforts of individuals in founding academies and institutes, and of philanthropists and religious denominations as well; concern of teachers in supplementing the meager terms of the public schools; and ambition of parents which made them support local institutions where they existed and send their children away to school where they did not. In the mountain counties where money had always been scarce, the people of most districts made little effort to provide adequate schools. I. N. Benners, County Treasurer of Haywood County, in 1875 reported, "Our school system is a failure .... The people are too poor for more taxes, and will not vote to tax themselves; consequently there can be little more than a two months' school taught with the money provided by law." And from Rutherford County came the complaint, "If the people would submit to be taxed to aid the school fund our schools would soon be built up, teachers would be encouraged to prepare for teaching, and the whole community would take an interest in the work of education." The responsibility to provide separate schools for Negroes created two problems. Mitchell County was like several other mountain counties in that it had too few Negro children in any district to make a school; consequently it used its share of the money assigned by the state for the education of Negro children to provide one Negro school centrally taught. The other problem was the statewide opposition of many prominent persons to public support for education, persons who held that it was "robbery to tax one man to educate another man's children" and that the burden of educating the Negroes who paid such a small portion of the taxes was too heavy for the improverished South to bear. In contrast to the few schools maintained for Negroes, more and more schools for white children began eventually to operate, and, owing partly to the poor facilities for transportation, in Western North Carolina more than eight hundred public schools of the one-room variety opened their doors for an average term of from six to ten weeks. The township boards submitted to local demand for more schools. From Unaka Township, Cherokee County, came the complaint, "We find that every patron would like to have the school kept near his �128 / Part II: A Changing Society door." Thus the school term was necessarily shortened to make the available funds stretch to pay all of the teachers. In most of the public schools the term was brief. Often the regular term was held during the "dormant season" when there was the least amount of farm work to be done. It ended by or before Christmas. Following the free term, a subscription school was often offered to supplement the work already completed. Sometimes the same teacher would conduct the public school and the subscription school. As parents were required to pay the teachers in the latter, a limited number of children attended, and the teaching could be made much more effective than in the public school. Even adults sometimes attended the subscription schools. Another supplemental school sometimes held was the writing school, which lasted approximately ten days, during which teacher and pupils concentrated on penmanship. In Western North Carolina during the eighteen-seventies one of the greatest incentives to the establishment of better schools was the Peabody Fund, created in 1867 by George Peabody, American millionaire with a banking house m London. He gave$ 1,ooo,ooo to assist educational effort in the impoverished South, to which he added another $1 ,ooo,ooo in 1869. A later gift of almost $1 ,soo,ooo in Florida and Mississippi bonds was lost because those states repudiated their bonds. The fund was kept intact for thirty years by a board of trustees which decided how the income should be spent. No money was appropriated as charity aid to the indigent. It was "used for the promotion and encouragement of intellectual, moral, or industrial education among the young of the more destitute portions of the Southern and Southeastern states" ofboth races. The board gave only about twenty-five percent in any instance; the rest had to be raised locally. The purpose was to promote community responsibility for education and for the training of teachers. The two general agents of the board, the Reverend Dr. Barnas Sears, and after Sears' death,J.L.M. Curry, became well-known figures in the educational world of the South. Only a subscription school could qualify for aid from this fund because of the high standards. A Peabody School was required to conform to the following criteria: to have at least one hundred students, two teachers, a ten-month term, and an average attendance of eighty-five percent. In 1871 Mars Hill College, then a secondary school, received three hundred dollars, �Public Education J 129 and Montanic Institute in Buncombe County was allowed a like amount in 1874. Franklin and South Hominy schools each received $450 in 1874, and Asheville, Hayesville, Marshall, and Pigeon Valley $300 each. The following year Webster School, Roan Mountain, Pisgah, Waynesville, Reems Creek, Laurel Fork, Laurel Hill (Clay County), and Cheoah were allotted $300 each. By 1879 the Peabody Fund was distributing funds only to graded schools, of which Western North Carolina had none. But, in those days when state funds were inadequate, the incentive offered by the Peabody Fund had encouraged the operation of some excellent schools in the mountain area. Buncombe County in the 188o's had better than average schools, because of the availability of capable young women, residents of the districts who had studied in the good private schools. Children paid the usual fifty cents monthly tuition. The county had seventy-two districts for white children and sixteen for colored. In about two-thirds of the schools only the first four grades were offered, while most of the remainder provided seven grades. The Asheville Democrat in I 889 commented: "By now every district in the county has some sort of a house. Several of these ... arc not comfortable, while a large majority, if they were furnished with desks and other school furniture, would be considered very good school buildings. The popular size for building them at this time is 24 feet wide and 40 feet long by 12 feet high ... from floor to overhead ceiling .... This house requires six windows with twelve lights each 12 x I 8, three windows on a side. In the back of the room [is] ... a stage. Here the teacher examines his classes.... This house will hold, on the main floor, 40 desks and leave room for one three foot center aisle and two narrow aisles next to the wall. ... "Plain desks made of dressed boards cost 75 cents each .... The entire cost of the building [including desks] may be met with $330.00." Thirteen new county schools had been built that year. The county board furnished $1.25 per child, and the monthly tuition of not more than fifty cents sufficed. Mrs. Lillian Thomasson made a study of the records of J. S. Smiley of Swain County who was first a teacher in a subscription school, then county school examiner, and finally county superintendent for eight years. As superintendent he visited each school in the county and was paid for the number of days he worked. In 1881 he traveled two hundred miles in his visiting �I 30 / Part II: A Changing Society and spent seven days examining teachers and wntmg reports of which the following is typical: "First school visited was De Hart's District No.4 of Swain County August roth I88r. Framed house, but no blackboard. Teacher found sitting during exercises. 'Seraglio,' 'intaglio,' 'biliary' mispronounced by the teacher. No. of pupils in the district was no. present on the day visited 3 r. Seats in school house in district No. 4 very inferior slab benches not low enough to be comfortable." One of Smiley's earlier reports written when he was a teacher illustrates the split term necessitated by the farm season: "The Charleston [now Bryson City] School District No. I in Charleston Township began August I4, I 876, with a very promising attendance. We had forty before we stopped for fodder, and what added to the beauty of the school was the average age of the pupils which was only a fraction over ten years .... Since fodder our largest attendance was 25. All the children learned well." [signed] J. S. Smiley. Swain County had seventeen school districts for white children and one for Negroes during the eighteen-eighties. In the r883 session only thirteen schools were taught, owing to the shortage of teachers. About seventy percent of the children were enrolled, but the average attendance was only twenty-five percent, chiefly because of a whooping cough epidemic. In that year the tuition, $r.Io per scholar, plus the apportionment of school funds provided for a term of four and one-half months. An interesting contrast of a public school and a "subscription school" in Wilkes county was written by Lawrence D. Washington in his Confessions of a Schoolmaster. In the former, girls sat on the right, boys on the left, separated by a narrow aisle. Some had slates on which they "ciphered." Books in use had been in the families for perhaps two generations so that there was no uniformity of texts except for several of Webster's "Blue-backed Spellers." Children were dressed in homespun and their shoes were home-made of cowhide. A roaring fire was of little help because the door had to be left open to provide light. The room was windowless, with here and there a log sawed out for light. A plank hung to the wall with leather hinges was used as a writing desk by fire or six pupils at a time. No classes were held in arithmetic or reading. Instead, each child would go to the schoolmaster for help and recitation. At the close of the day came the only real class, a spelling match when the children stood in a row and "spelled down," competing for a "head mark." Some who could not read could spell by heart every �Public Education / 13 r word in the "Blue-backed Speller." In comparison, at Edgewood Academy Washington found double desks, blackboards, a large stove in the center of the room, and a carefully worked out course of study. The tap of a bell brought an orderly group of young people into the room in double file. Opening exercises consisted of a hymn, reading of a psalm, roll call, and then recitation by classes. There was instruction in penmanship, geography, reading, spelling, map drawing, and English grammar. The first state-managed educational institution in Western North Carolina was the School for the Deaf and Dumb in Morganton, created in a mood of social concern by the General Assembly in r89I. The School for the Deaf, Dumb, and Blind at Raleigh which had been in operation since I 846 was too crowded to accept all who applied and was too far from the western counties to serve them adequately. The school at Morganton included dormitory, school building, and cottages for those who operated the farm and dairy. The course of study was that of the public schools of the state. The Oral Department was established for those who could acquire speech and speech reading; others were taught in the Manual Department: for boys, art and free-hand drawing, industrial training, printing and typesetting, wood-working, shoemaking, and farm and garden; girls were taught household work, sewing and dressmaking, and cooking. All were taught the academic subjects. The Report of the Board of Directors in 1900 included an appeal for the establishment of a school for the feeble-minded: "Many of the children could be treated and their conditions much improved, and some of them could be trained and to some extent educated, under suitable surroundings." In the 196o's such an institution was created in Morganton by the state - the Western Carolina Center. The state did not have a school system; the opportumt1es for schooling varied from county to county and from district to district. Near the turn of the century a new era began, when the Legislature (in 1899) appropriated $roo,ooo to be apportioned among the counties on the basis of population. The next session of the Legislature (r9or) appropriated the $roo,ooo plus a second $ IOO,ooo known as the "Equalizing Fund," to be distributed �r 32 / Part II: A Changing Society to the counties where it was needed in order to extend the school term to four months, as nearly as might be. An act was passed to allow cities and towns and special tax districts outside towns and even whole counties to vote taxes to extend the term to four months. The farmers' legislature of I89I and the fusion (Populist and Republican) legislature of I895 had established state responsibility for higher education for women, for teachers, and for Negroes, and had created the School for the Deaf and Dumb at Morganton. In I 898 the Democrats regained control of the legislature as a result of an intensive campaign against Negro suffrage. Active in the canvass were a group of young men including Charles B. Aycock and Locke Craig of Asheville, two future governors. Aycock became a party leader. The legislature in I899 approved a constitutional amendment similar to those passed by Mississippi and eventually by eight Southern states. It made literacy a qualification for voting, with the provision that persons whose direct ancestors had been entitled to vote on or before I 867 would be permitted to register to vote at any time within the next eight years (the Grandfather Clause), and to vote, provided they paid their poll taxes on time. Aycock worked closely with the legislature of I 899 that appropriated the aforementioned $Ioo,ooo to be distributed among the counties for school support. In the election of August 2, I900, North Carolina's voters approved the literacy test amendment and elected Aycock governor. Fortunately for the cause of educational progress, Governor Charles B. Aycock (I90I-I905) promised during his campaign in 1900: "If you vote for me, ... I shall devote the four years of my official term to the upbuilding of the public schools of North Carolina. I shall endeavor for every child in the State to get an education." He began his educational crusade immediately, offering his services as a speaker to groups of people who were promoting a local tax levy for schools. Meanwhile other forces were at work in North Carolina and the entire South to provide better educational opportunities. Beginning in I898 with a gathering at Capon Springs, West Virginia, composed chiefly of ministers, the Conference for Southern Education was held annually with John Ogden, Northern philanthropist, as president. A number of wealthy Northerners expressed interest chiefly in Negro education. In I90I the Conference met at Winston-Salem, and Aycock �Public Education / 133 welcomed the guests. The decision to wage a campaign for free schools for all the people in the South led to the formation of an executive committee called the Southern Education Board. It would be largely a publicity and propraganda agency and would not have large sums at its disposal. John D. Rockefeller, Jr., who attended the Winston-Salem meeting, persuaded his father to make large gifts to Southern education (a total of $s3,ooo,ooo) and another board, called the General Education Board, was created to disburse the funds. Many of the same men served on both boards. Three North Carolinians on the Southern Education Board were Edwin A. Alderman, Charles D. Mciver, and Walter Hines Page. The work of Alderman and Mciver had attracted the interest of John Ogden, and in 1901 he invited the two to visit him at his summer home at Kennebunkport, Maine. As a result of this visit, the campaign of the Southern Education Board in North Carolina was launched with Mciver as chairman. Fortythree educational workers of the state gathered at Raleigh in February, 1902, to launch the campaign. Governor Aycock presided and organized the drive for better schools. The program included local taxation, consolidation of school districts, building and equipping better schoolhouses, longer school terms, and better salaries for teachers. Members of committees formed at the Raleigh meeting were to send weekly articles to newspapers of the state advocating the above program, and ministers were asked to preach one sermon per year on public school education. The public campaign was carried on by speakers who were provided funds by the Southern Education Board, and especially by the governor and the state superintendent of public instruction, who served in the campaign without extra pay. Superintendent Thomas F. Toon died in 1902 as a result of over-exertion in the campaign, and Aycock appointed J. Y. Joyner, professor at the State Normal and Industrial School, to the position, which he held until 1919. The private campaign, as described by Joyner in his Biennial Report for 1902-1903, 1903-1904, was carried by friends of education into their communities as they moved about among the people, around the church door, and on the public highway. When Aycock began his campaign, he believed that the only way to improve rural schools was by local taxes voted into effect by the people. The executive campaign committee consisting of the governor, Mciver, Toon, and later Joyner, �134 / Part II: A Changing Society A multiple teacher school, vintage 1906 concentrated its efforts on commumt1es that seemed eager to take action for better schools. As Aycock traveled and lectured he came to realize how great the need was for better schoolhouses. He had asked the legislature in 1901 to allow the principal of the Literary Fund to be loaned for the schools if the ~hoo,ooo appropriation were not paid in full. The request was not allowed; however, in 1903 the Literary Fund of approximately ~hoo,ooo was made a loan fund to finance the construction of school buildings. This fund had been provided for in the Constitution of I 868; worthlessness of the securities held in the original fund was known. The new fund consisted of the investment of proceeds from sources such as sale of swamp lands and of grants of land from the federal government, and grants and bequests from individuals. Until 1903 only the interest had been used. Under the new provision as much as one half of the cost of new buildings would be lent to any district, although no loan would be made to a district with fewer than sixty-five children of school age unless the size of the district was necessarily limited by scarcity of population or other unsurmountable barriers - an inducement toward consolidation. �Public Education / r 3 5 Some Western North Carolina districts experimented with consolidation. When Granite Falls in Caldwell County consolidated two districts, the average attendance of the two districts increased from fifty-four to one hundred-thirty. Six teachers were required where three had sufficed before, and the school term was extended from fourteen to twenty-eight weeks. The county superintendent wrote, "Consolidation has been a great blessing for this community. The effort has also been good for local taxation. Gradation and classification have been improved and a greater number of grades added." Wilkes County reported consolidating two schools, increasing enrollment from thirty-five to sixty-two and average attendance from eighteen to forty-six. One of the two teachers was eliminated, thus enabling the school term to be extended from twelve to sixteen weeks. Wilkes County had great need for consolidation, as it had seventy-four schools for white children and forty for Negroes in 1904, with fifteen additional districts that had no school houses. Compulsory attendance was experimented with under a law of 1903 for Macon County. In the one year of its operation the average attendance at public schools in the county increased twenty per cent and enrollment increased 34-4 percent. This was four times the statewide increase in enrollment and twice the increase in average attendance. Not until 1913, however, did the legislature pass a compulsory attendance law for the entire state. Joyner wrote in one of his biennial reports concerning teachers' salaries: "As long as the annual salary paid the teacher who works with the immortal stuff of mind and soul is less than that paid the rudest workers in wood and iron, less than that paid the man that shoes your horse or plows your com or paints your house or keeps your jail, the best talent can not be secured and kept in the teaching profession - the teaching profession must continue to be made in many instances but a stepping-stone to more profitable employments or a means of pensioning inefficient and needy mediocrity." In 1904 the average white teacher's salary in North Carolina was $29.05 per month and that of Negro teachers was $22.27, the average term for white children was seventeen weeks and for Negroes sixteen weeks. An examination of the table of teachers salaries and terms in Western North Carolina shows that while the schools in the western countries were keeping pace with others in the state in extending their terms, the average salaries �136 / Part II: A Changing Society were below those for rural schools in the state as a whole. It will also be noticed that salaries of Negro teachers were much lower than those of white teachers. Joyner believed that this differential was justified. He wrote: " ... their teachers are not so well qualified and have not spent so much money on their education, their expenses of living are much less, and therefore, they do not need and ought not to have as much per capita for the education of their children. [He continued, however] There is more real danger of doing the Negro an injustice in the apportionment of the school fund, even after considering all these things, by withholding his equitable part, than of doing the white race any injustice by giving him too much." Comparison of the education of Negro children in Western North Carolina with that in other parts of the state shows that a Negro child in Western North Carolina was as likely to be enrolled in school as one in other parts of the state but not as regular in attendance- due to the long distance he would have to travel, since there were fewer Negro schools. A study of the results of the two educational crusades, that begun in 1889 and the one of Aycock's administration, shows that they were effective in reaching the school population. Only four and sixtenths percent of white children of school age and thirteen and TEACHERS' SALARIES AND TERMS IN 1904 IN SOME WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA COUNTIES White Colored Term in Weeks City Counties Male Female Male Female White Alleghany $23.50 $22.27 $20.00 Buncombe 35.00 32.30 25·35 $2s.oo $36.00 Caldwell 28.63 23.78 22.14 19.37 Cherokee 24.00 30.38 30.38 26.25 Graham 28.94 19.!6 Haywood 28.75 28.00 25.00 20.00 Jackson 28.52 23.93 2!.00 22.50 Macon 25.96 23.17 2!.00 23.66 Madison 28.42 2).25 22.00 23.66 Polk 27.53 2).00 20.00 19.50 Surry 24.00 2J.90 22.50 20.00 15.00 15.00 Watauga 24.16 20.83 Yancey 24.79 18.64 rs.66 12.)0 * not available Biennial Report, 1904 SOURCE: Colored White Colored $36.oo 24.00 * 20 !7.66 16 r6 r6.8o 15.72 r8.72 17 15.20 r6.48 16 20 20 IS * * 14.86 16.oo 16 15 15.20 13·33 16 20 �Public Education / I 37 two-tenths percent of Negro children of the Western North Carolina counties were classed as illiterate in I904. In I922 Edgar W. Knight wrote an article concerning education in the Southern mountains for School and Society. He said that forty-five percent of the population was illiterate. This was not true of the young people who had benefited from the recently improved schools. He said that less than forty percent were in attendance, which was true only when applied to the entire school census, persons six through twenty-one years old. In I907 the General Assembly passed a law permtttmg any county board of education to establish and maintain for a term of not less than five months per school year one or more high schools. An appropriation of $40,785 was made to aid in establishing such schools. In Western North Carolina dormitories and mess halls were essential to the plan because of the long distances students must travel. Credit toward room and board was given to those bringing raw provisions from home, and private donations were invited from members of the communities because the state appropriaton was so small. By I9I I there were thirty-six rural high schools in the twenty-four counties ofWestern North Carolina (Avery County was created in I9II). Most of the high schools had a thirty-two week term, although one was in operation only seventeen weeks. Most of them offered only a two-year course, andjust five had more than one teacher, four others utilizing a teacher from the elementary grades on a part-time basis. Enrollment ranged from a low of seventeen to one hundred three at Hendersonville, which had a three-year course, three teachers, and a thirty-five week term. In I9I7 the North Carolina Supreme Court ruled that high schools were part of the public school system and were subject to the requirements of the constitution, thus reversing the 1 87I decision of the court that schools were not necessary and that county commissioners could not levy taxes to support them. In I92I there were only six counties in Western North Carolina that did not have at least one accredited high school, Yancey, Mitchell, Graham, Clay, Ashe, and Avery. In the following year two high schools were accredited in Ashe County, one in A very, and one in Yancey. A good many of the accredited high schools were private ones, but there were sixteen graded schools in the �Hayesville High School. Public high schools began with the law of 1907 area, all publicly supported. City and town high schools were superior to rural ones. Of the eight in the twenty-four county area in 1922 five had four year courses and five had thirty-six week terms. Among the unusual schools founded by dedicated individuals for the improvement of mountain living, two examples are the Stearns schools of Columbus, Polk County, and Crossnore School, A very County. A wholesome combination of state and private support was to be found in Polk County beginning in 1891. Mr. Frank Stearns of Cleveland, Ohio, spent some time in Columbus, North Carolina. Charmed with the scenery and impressed with the native intelligence of the people and the lack of educational opportunity, he provided a two-story building for an elementary school. He purchased modern desks and supplemented the public school fund to extend the term to six months, with no tuition charge. A year later he built another two-room building for kindergarten and library. Four years later he bought land for a campus and had a new building erected to house a secondary school which was named the Central Industrial Institute. A board of trustees directed its affairs under a charter from the General Assembly. Thus all grades from kindergarten through high school were offered. A small tuition fee was required of students in the upper grades. Dormitories for boys and girls, a music department, and a library were all provided by Mr. Stearns. In 1916 the school district assumed �Public Education / I 39 responsibility for the school and voted bonds to build a new high school building which was named Stearns High School. A consolidated high school later replaced it, and the former school plant houses an elementary school. Dr. Mary Martin Sloop's work in Avery County began in the year that the county was formed, I9II. Daughter of a Davidson College professor, Mary Martin attended the Woman's Medical College of Philadelphia and hoped to go to Africa as a missionary. Instead, in 1908 she married Dr. Eustice H. Sloop, and in I 9 I I they began their career of social and medical work, first at Plumtree and then at Crossnore. Mrs. Sloop got a new one-room school built. Gradually additional rooms were added and boarding students were accepted. Money derived from the sale of old clothes contributed by people from all over the nation helped to finance the plant and the social work. At first, girls who were far enough along in their studies were sent to Edgar Tufts' school in Banner Elk, but eventually high school work was offered at Crossnore. In 1917 Crossnore School was chartered as a non-profit organization. Weaving was a major handicraft. Dr. Sloop said, "Our aim is to keep alive an almost forgotten art; to cherish in the young people of the mountains a reverence for the art; to provide a means of livelihood for women and girls as well as to furnish homes with beautiful and symbolic material." The weaving department operated under the SmithHughes Law. Crossnore is a public school as well as a craft school. The school property consists of 250 acres, some thirty buildings, living accommodations for some two hundred children and other buildings necessary for elementary and high school; the new A very County Consolidated High School has absorbed the high school at Crossnore. The county, the state, and the school provide elementary education for the children of the community and the boarding children. School busses bring in those who do not live at the school. The Garrett Memorial Hospital is at the edge of the school grounds. By 19I3 the Equalizing Fund was earmarked to lengthen all school terms in the state to six months or as long as the increased funds from a statewide property tax of five cents on the hundred dollar valuation would permit, and from that time on, efforts were made to establish the six months' term. In 1919 a new equalization plan based on the comparative wealth of the counties was adopted. A statewide revaluation of property was made in 1920, but the effects were undone by a special session of the �140 / Part II: A Changing Society legislature which ruled that county comm1ssloners might readjust valuations. During that decade constant readjustment of the amount of the fund was necessary because of changes in property values, at the same time that school costs were rising rapidly; from $8oo,ooo in 1919 the fund was increased to $5,250,000 in 1929. In 1925 the county tax rates varied from twenty-one cents per hundred dollars valuation to $r.o6 for the counties' part of the current operating expense. Twenty-two of the twenty-four western counties benefited from the Equalizing Fund. McDowell and Buncombe Counties, being industrialized, had increased their wealth and could have low tax rates, while agricultural property fell in value during the prolonged agncultural depression of the 192o's. By 1929 a number of rural high schools which had been built with funds from bond issues were threatened with having to reduce the length of their terms because revenues were not sufficient. In that year a "Tax Reduction Fund" of $r,25o,ooo was appropriated for these high schools. Blanford Dougherty, president of the Appalachian State Normal School as it was then called, is credited with having influenced the creation of the state funds for schools. In an address that he gave at the Lansing School in Ashe County he said: "I am one of those that believe that every child from the crest of the Blue Ridge, the Tennessee line, down through piedmont North Carolina, down ... to the sands of the sea, should have as good a chance as any other child, whether he lives in the city or in the country, whether he lives in the mountains or on the plains .... I submit ... that it is not right for this State to allow an 85q tax in Watauga County and a 29q tax in Forsyth County to run a six month's school if we claim, and are sincere in our claim, that we have a State system of education." This was not an unusual statement for Dougherty to make, as he had worked for what he called the "Gospel of Equalization" since 1912 and was a member of the State Equalization Board established in 1927. In 19 3 I the state abandoned equalization and put into use complete state support of public schools for a six months' term. This meant that North Carolina would have two school systems, a state six months' system and one of local control in counties where there was an extended term which varied from one to three months. The extended term was supported by local levies and the Tax Reduction Fund, which was continued and increased �Public Education / 141 by the General Assembly of 193 I. By that time the nationwide depression was causing greater difficulty in the support of schools. Counties were in default on their obligations and teachers were unpaid. Then in 1933 in North Carolina by increasing state school funds and decreasing costs, the principle of complete state support for an eight month term was established. Teacher loads were increased, salaries were reduced, fewer principals were allotted, and bus routes were redirected for economy's sake. Schools were to be supported completely by the state. All special tax districts, special charter or otherwise, were declared nonexistent and no taxes could be levied in said districts for school operating purposes except for courses in home economics, agriculture, and vocational subjects where such taxes were already being levied. (These courses were partially supported by the federal government under the Smith-Hughes Law.) City units with one thousand or more school population were allowed to continue as administrative units under a superintendent. Counties were to serve as administrative units under county superintendents, and they were to be redistricted with consolidation for convenience and economy. Administrative units were permitted by an approved election to improve the standards of the schools for a term of no more than 180 days. Management and control of school buses was to be by the state. Salaries for all personnel were lowered and rural supervisors were eliminated. All school expenditures were to be standardized by the state. Later as conditions improved permissive legislation allowed administrative units to vote special taxes. By 1943 the school term for the entire state was extended to nine months. The school law of 1933 was of tremendous benefit to the rural schools of Western North Carolina. Nevertheless, its effect on a city such as that of Asheville was catastrophic. From 1920 to 1924 during the city superintendence of W. L. Brooker great progress had been made by the schools of Asheville. Four new buildings were built after a bond issue of $sso,ooo was voted in 1920, and a new levy of ten cents on a hundred dollar valuation was approved by the voters. West Asheville was annexed and Asheville enjoyed a "boom". Again in 1924 a bond issue was voted, this one also for $sso,ooo, and in 1926 still another of $1,50o,ooo was approved. The superintendent of schools recommended that a new high school plant and a separate junior college building be erected. In 1929 when the high school was completed with the junior college housed in �142 / Part II: A Changing Society the same building, Asheville's schools were among the best in the state. Music and creative art, home economics, manual training, and physical education were offered in all of the school grades, and the high school had a commercial department. An administrative staff numbering eighteen persons served the system. Then came the failure of the Central Bank and Trust Company and other banks in the area, and the depression became acute. The junior college was discontinued and several school buildings were closed. The law of 1933 reduced the budget for the city school system from the $763,628 figure of 1929-1930 to $183,761 in 1934-1935. Such courses as manual training, music, and physical education which had been offered since 1905 were eliminated. Consolidation of the Public schools, an objective of the Board of Equalization established in 1927 and of subsequent legislation, was facilitated by the building of the "Scott Roads," HOW THE TAX EQUALIZATION PROGRAM HELPED TWENTY-TWO OF THE COUNTIES OF WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA TO MAINTAIN A SIX MONTH SCHOOL TERM County Necessary Rate Without Fund Actual 1925 Rate Total Reduction Alleghany Ashe Avery Burke Caldwell Cherokee Clay Graham Haywood Henderson Jackson Macon Madison Mitchell Polk Rutherford Surry Swain Transylvania Watauga Wilkes Yancey -75 ·7S !.42 .5S .SI ·93 !.5 I !.02 ·79 ·76 ·97 I.I9 .96 .So !.20 .6S .61 .62 .S2 !.02 I. I 5 ·75 -47 -54 .91 -54 .70 .60 r.o6 .90 .70 .65 ·73 .64 -72 -70 .90 .60 ·53 -55 .62 .So .66 -55 .2S .24 -51 .04 Source: Biennial Report, 1924-1925, 1925-1926. .1 I ·33 -45 .!2 .09 .II .24 ·55 .24 .10 .30 .OS .OS .07 .21 .23 ·49 .20 �Public Education / 143 paved secondary roads, during the administration of Governor Kerr Scott in the early 1950's. Subsequently most of the one to four-teacher schools passed out of use. School buses could then carry children to institutions having in most cases a teacher to a grade. The newest development is in the building of mammoth rural high schools serving from a half to a full county. An example is Tuscola Senior High School, which had 1,045 pupils and fifty-four staff members when it opened in 1966. Located on a hilltop overlooking Lake Junaluska in Haywood County, it was named for the one-room school that was once located near by. It replaced three high schools and received students from two additional schools as it serves the entire western half of the county. Its campus of forty-two acres is large enough to accommodate all of the activities associated with a modern secondary school, and it offers "rich programs suited to students with diverse interests, backgrounds, and abilities.'' Equalization did not apply to Negro schools as it did to those for white children. It is appalling that as late as 1924 there were in Western North Carolina only two graded schools for Negroes which included high school grades: Asheville, with 217 students, and Hendersonville, with 19. A beginning was being made in Jackson and Wilkes counties with county training schools. The "county training school movement" for Negro youth began in 191 r throughout the South in an effort to provide one good school in each county, to which capable students might go after finishing the work at a one-teacher rural school. The Slater Fund paid $soo to any county that would match it with $750 and run the school for ten months. While the schools were not high schools, their offerings were eventually extended to a four year term. By the 1933-1934 term there were ten Negro high schools in the twenty-four counties of Western North Carolina, but most of them were inadequate. There were thirteen teachers in the Negro high schools of Buncombe County, but most of the other counties had only one or two teachers in their Negro high schools. In 1921 the state set up schedules for teacher certification and salaries, but the Negro schedule provided salaries for Negro teachers that were much lower than for white teachers with equal preparation. Both Negro and white teachers were in most cases paid below the scale for some time to come. During the 1943-1944 term, equalization of salaries for Negro and white teachers was achieved, depending on certificates �144 / Part II: A Changing Society ~~ ~ ~ ....... "..,..,..,..., ............ -- ..... ~..,.,. Architect's drawing of a new consolidated high school- one of several modern educational plants in jackson County held. In counties where the number of Negro children was insufficient to justify operating a high school, provisions were made by the boards of education to send Negro students to nearby counties where high schools were in existence. Integration was the solution to the problem of the small number of Negroes in most of the counties. As new rural consolidated high schools were built after the U .S. Supreme Court's decision in 1954 in the case of Brown v. Topeka Board of Education, integration of the races took place. In Buncombe County a gradual program of desegregation was adopted from the first through the eighth grade, and Asheville schools were largely integrated. In January 1970 the Asheville system established "busing" of students to achieve complete integration. Graham County, which has no Negroes, integrated Indian and white school populations in 1960. Yancey abolished its one Negro school in 1962, Jackson County its one Negro school and Madison County its three in 1964. In 1965 twelve counties closed the doors of their Negro schools and sent the students to other public institutions in the counties; Burke eliminated all of its six N egro schools in that year. Other counties followed until in 1970 there was only one all-Negro school, New Hope Elementary School, which was integrated in September, 1970. Since 1880 education has been provided for Cherokee Indian children. In that year the Friends Meeting of Indiana agreed to establish schools for the Eastern Cherokees, including an industrial school, and to operate them for ten years. In I 892 the federal government took direct charge of the schools and has operated them since that time. An elementary day school was eventually established in each of the townships, with an elementary and a high school at the Cherokee Agency. The last named included both boarding and day students. Although the Cherokees have a written language of their own, their alphabet having been �Public Education / 145 invented by Sequoyah, a member of the tribe, during the I 82o's, the English language is used in the schools. Cherokee children may go to public schools if they choose, and a scholarship fund enables many to go to college. During the 1950's the Board of Higher Education was created to coordinate the work of tax-supported colleges in the state. This board helped to establish a series of junior colleges and at the same time the State Board of Education founded a number of industrial education centers. In 1961 Governor Sanford appointed the Carlyle Commission on Education beyond the High School, with Irving Carlyle of Winston-Salem as chairman. Its recommendations were adopted by the General Assembly in 1963. The law provided for a system of community colleges, technical institutes, and industrial education centers under the State Board of Education but with local boards of trustees. This was just what was needed in Western North Carolina. The area had colleges and junior colleges, but they reached only a minority of the young people. There was no institution designed to teach the skills needed in the developing technological society. Because of the difficulties of travel, high schools had not been consolidated sufficiently to enable them to have the latest expensive equipment needed for effective vocational training. The new institutions were to operate on an open-door policy, admitting any adult and providing whatever training he needed. An epoch-making decision of the General Assembly in 1967 made four of the senior state-supported colleges "universities." Among these were Appalachian and Western Carolina colleges. East Carolina College, which had grown phenomenally since World War II, had asked the legislature for independent university status. The consolidated university consisted of institutions at Chapel Hill, Raleigh, Greensboro, and Charlotte. Governor Moore and the State Board of Higher Education opposed the granting of university status to East Carolina College and the alternate proposal that the three former teachers colleges be made regional universities. When the latter proposal came up for a vote the Senate added an amendment including the predominately Negro Agricultural and Technical College at Greensboro, and the measure passed. Now that Western North Carolina has two universities that will through the years develop liberal arts and professional training other than for teachers, the bright young people with the potential to become leaders �146 / Part II: A Changing Society Aerial view of a portion of the Appalachian State University campus HUGH MORTON PHOTO This view of a portion of the Western Carolina University campus shows its magnificent setting �Public Education J 147 will have the opportunity to complete their educations near home, at less expense and with less likelihood of their outmigration afterward. The regional universities are surveying their community service capability and are extending their programs, graduate and undergraduate, to meet the needs of the region. For instance, both Appalachian State University and Western Carolina University have established various colleges. Their colleges of business will each operate a Bureau of Business Research to supply information to industries and businessmen in Western North Carolina. Appalachian is creating a "Continuing Education Center," a laboratory for learning and living. It is expected to draw and hold persons seeking recreation and vacation programs of educational nature which will greatly extend the usefulness of the university to the region. It will emphasize folk culture, arts and crafts, music and drama. It will enable the university to serve creatively. Western Carolina University will have excellent highway facilities. It will be connected with the roads of the Appalachian Regional Development program and the Interstate system by a new four-lane "limited access" highway. As new industry has moved into the region the university has added two major in-service programs providing bachelors' degrees in business administration and health services. The university has been active for twenty years in regional planning and development of Western North Carolina. The University of North Carolina at Asheville is the newest state-supported liberal arts institution in the area. It has gone through a process of change since 1927 when a junior college was established by the Buncombe County Board of Education as a part of the public school system, the first public, tuition-free junior college in the state. County students were enrolled free of charge. Such courses as German, Greek, and creative writing were offered in addition to the curriculum usually found in a two-year college, and the student body grew to about three hundred. Meanwhile the College of the City of Asheville was established in 1928. Both operated until 1930 when the North Carolina Supreme Court ruled that a junior college might be supported by the city only if no increase in tax was necessary for that specific purpose and if it could be operated without "impairing the efficiency of the elementary and high schools, and of the kindergarten schools ... forming a part of the public school system." The depression and the above ruling made �148 / Part II: A Changing Society necessary the closing of the College of the City of Asheville. The Kiwanis Club of Asheville urged in vain the consolidation of the two colleges. In the 1930's the county's junior college had to institute a tuition charge of $roo, and the name of the school was changed to Biltmore Junior College. A literary magazine called Bluets with Virginia Bryan Scheiber as adviser offered inspiration to students in creative writing, and it won frequent awards in the annual Columbia Scholastic Press Association contest at Columbia University. Works of such writers as Wilma Dykeman, John Ehle, Patty Sebartle, and Robert Campbell, Jr., appeared in Bluets. The dramatic groups won awards in the drama contests at Chapel Hill. The name of the college was changed again in 1936 to Asheville-Biltmore when the city began giving financial support. World War II caused the student body to dwindle. Fortunately the United States Navy set up a program that helped finance the college during those trying years. After the war the Seely estate was obtained for a scenic and spacious campus. In 1955 the North Carolina General Assembly voted an appropriation for Asheville-Biltmore College, which was increased two years later when it was decided to make it a state-supported community college. AshevilleBiltmore was the first institution to qualify under the community college act and state funds were made available for a long-range building program. A campus located nearer Asheville was deemed necessary, and the present site was acquired. A bond issue of $5oo,ooo was approved by the people of Asheville and Buncombe County in 1958 and the state allocated funds to build five buildings on a r6r.9 acre tract in North Asheville. An additional bond issue of $750,000 and a tax levy were approved in 1961, which were matched by state funds. The General Assembly in 1963 changed Asheville-Biltmore to a senior state-supported college. The legislature of 1969 made it a unit of the Consolidated University of North Carolina. Still educational levels in Western North Carolina are well below those of the state. Only 30.6 percent of adults 25 years and over in Western North Carolina have completed high school, compared with 40.8 percent for urban places and 32·3 percent for the state. College graduation was 9.8 percent in urban North Carolina, 7.6 in metropolitan Asheville, and only 5.5 percent in Western North Carolina. Interest in education is gammg momentum in Western North Carolina but the percentage of high school graduates attending college has �Public Education / 149 declined. There is a steady increase in those enrolling in technical institutes, business and nursing schools. In June, 1968, the State Planning Task Force submitted a report, Manpower Education in the North Carolina Appalachian Region. Conclusions drawn were these: "1. Public education must be re-oriented to the world of work and occupational preparation, which enhances traditional general and vocational education ... ; 2. Teacher education must be improved and more teachers provided in the schools . . . ; 3. Guidance education must be improved and more counselors provided ... ; 4· Noncurriculum services such as food, clothing, medical and dental care, psychological and social workers, must be increased and extended into new areas." The high schools that have vocational programs arc revamping their offerings in view of the employment needs of the area. New buildings are being funded by grants under the Appalachian Program. Among the courses being given are carpentry, auto mechanics, brick masonry, electronics, blueprint reading and drafting, mechanical drawing, poultry and livestock, and horticulture. Cosmetology and a number of homemaking courses are offered especially for girls. Arrangements are being made for the students to work in industry, agriculture, construction, or services during the summer months at the skills they have been developing during the academic year. Under Governor Terry Sanford the North Carolina Fund was created with grants from the Ford Foundation, the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation, and the Mary Reynolds Babcock Foundation. Project areas of the state were outlined and each was invited to organize and construct a plan for community action. For example, four counties, Watauga, A very, Mitchell, and Yancey created W AMY and sent a program to the Fund authorities. Meanwhile the Economic Opportunity Act was passed and liberal federal funds were available. In this state the North Carolina Fund was designated to administer the program of the Office of Economic Opportunity. There were many facets to the program. One of the most significant was the Neighborhood Youth Corps, to help economically deprived youth of r6 to 21 years of age, to give them educational and vocational training and cultural enrichment. Fifty-three and two-tenths of the population of Western North Carolina have completed eight years or less of public schooling. These "dropouts" constitute one of the most serious problems, as �r 50 / Part II: A Changing Society most of them will never be anything but unskilled workers unless they receive special training. The technical institutes have cooperated with the Neighborhood Youth Corps to provide instruction in such skills as bricklaying, upholstering, drapery, basket-making, and other handicrafts. An optimistic report published by the Western North Carolina Regional Planning Commission in 1962 ended with these words: "If the people of the region work to clear away the obstacles to growth, make the best use of the region's resources, and take advantage of the outside forces working in their favor, they can look forward to a bright future for Western North Carolina." �CHAPTER SEVEN Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning Before 1900 only private schools and colleges offered the "higher branches" oflearning. They continued to exist after the passage of the law ofi907 providing that counties might establish public high schools, and many people favored them over the public high schools. Some of the private institutions had been designed to make secondary school available to mountain youth, and others were fashionable schools that appealed partly because of their location in scenic resort areas. The private schools were invaluable in supplementing the work of the infant high schools. Almost all of both types were for white students. Two exceptions were Allen Industrial Home and School for Negro girls at Asheville and Western Union Academy in Rutherford County. Many of these schools did not pass out of existence when the trend turned to public high schools. They exist in various forms today. Among people of Clay County there are still those who talk of a master teacher, John 0. Hicks, who organized and conducted the Hicksville High School, a private school, in I 8 so. He is credited with improving the quality of public school teaching in Hayesville and all of Clay County by his inspirational example. It is said in Clay County that its chief product has been people, and all in the county are proud of the products of Hicksville Academy. Perhaps they are proudest of all of one graduate, George Truett, born in Cherokee County in 1867. His 151 �I 52 f Part II: A Changing Society father moved the family to a farm near Hayesville so the children could attend the so-called "Hicksville High School." George Truett went on to study at nearby Young Harris College in Georgia and became a great Baptist minister. For years he was pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dallas, Texas. Among the honors that he won was that of serving as president of the World Baptist Alliance. Another of the best private schools in Western North Carolina during the 187o's was the East La Porte Male and Female Academy in Jackson County. There were three teachers headed by A. M. Dawson, a famous educator of that area, and the curriculum included arithmetic, natural philosophy, algebra, Euclid (geometry), grammar, geography, Latin composition, and reading. The catalogue for r878-1879 promised that although criticism and explanation would be furnished by the faculty, judicious care would be exercised lest "explanation may be made to stand in the vacancy occasioned by the student's want of study .... " Room and board, including fuel, lighting, and washing, cost five dollars per month and tuition varied from five dollars to twelve and one-half dollars per term of five months, to be determined by the course chosen. Some families sent their sons and daughters away to other states to be educated. Emory and Henry College, near Abingdon, Virginia, was a manual labor school where boys might earn most of their expenses. The Stonewall Jackson Institute at Abingdon was praised by Charles Dudley Warner. He visited at Worth's, a trading center in northern Watauga County where he spent the night. The daughters had attended the Stonewall Jackson Institute. The home had two pianos and "a bevy of young leadies whose clothes were certainly not made on Cut Laurel Gap. Books were scattered around the house- evidences of the finishing schools with which our country is blessed." It is a truism that each school was as good or as bad as its teachers. One great teacher who made his influence felt widely was Robert Logan Patton. A Western North Carolina boy, he earned his way through Phillips Academy at Exeter, New Hampshire, and Amherst College, spending ten years on his education after he was seventeen years old. He was well qualified to assume leadership on a state or national level in either education or the ministry, but he chose to preach chiefly at rural churches and to found academies. When he returned from Amherst in 1876, he was probably the best educated man in Western North �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning / I 53 Carolina, and people in different communities urged him to come to them and found academies. He opened his first school at Table Rock in Burke County in August, 1876, and taught there three years, opened his Globe Academy in Caldwell County in 1882, one at Glen Alpine in 1889, another at Morganton in 1890, one at Moravian Falls in Wilkes County in 1891, then returned to Morganton to remain from 1892 to 1901. There were internals when he accepted other appointments, such as the pastorate of the First Baptist Church of High Point, but he always returned to his mountains. From 1910 to 1912 he served as superintendent of schools in Morganton, after which his health failed and he was obliged to retire. Even earlier than these academies were five so-called colleges in Western North Carolina, three of which were in operation or were being built when the Civil War started. Davenport College was founded in Lenoir, Caldwell County, by a group of far-sighted and prosperous men who wished to make their town a cultural center. They talked about a college for women, first approaching the Concord Presbytery, with which the Presbyterian churches in the county were affiliated, but it decided to locate its college at Statesville (Mitchell College). The Lenoir community had become so enthusiastic that the people would not let the college idea die. The South Carolina Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church South accepted the proposal of the Lenoir group. William Davenport, James C. Harper, W. A. Lenoir, Jas. Harper, E. W. Jones, and Uriah Cloyd were the most generous givers, although the list of donors was long. Named for the largest contributor, the college was completed in 1857 and was given to the South Carolina Conference, which kept it in operation until the last year of the Civil War. When General George Stoneman's United States Cavalry raid approached Lenoir after attacking Salisbury, the president, the Reverend A. G. Stacy, disbanded the school and moved the girls toward South Carolina. The troops occupied the college premises, plundered the library, destroyed the furniture, and "the place was left a wreck, despoiled of everything except that the buildings were not burned." The friends of the college, although improverished by the war, refurbished the buildings cheaply and classes were resumed. With a preparatory department and a college department it continued in operation until 1936 �I 54 J Part II: A Changing Society under the Western North Carolina Conference to which it had been transferred in I87o when the new conference was set up. After I893 both men and women were in the student body. In I938 it was merged with Greensboro College. Two other colleges originated as private schools but were turned over later to the Methodist Episcopal Church South. Rutherford College, founded in Burke County in 1853 by Dr. Robert Laban Abernethy, was first an academy called Owl Hollow School. Five years later it received its charter as Rutherford Academy, named in honor of John Rutherford, who contributed the land, and in I 86I the name was changed to Rutherford Seminary. In 1870 it became Rutherford College. In I900 it passed into the possession of the Methodist Church. A number of Methodist ministers were educated at Rutherford College. Soon after it began granting degrees Brantley York became a professor, remaining for five years. York had the distinction of having been the first teacher and the moving spirit of Union Institute, later Trinity College, now Duke University. Rutherford in its later years experienced financial problems, and in I933 it was merged with Weaver College to form Brevard College. For a while a public school was housed in the Rutherford College buildings, after which the property was sold to persons establishing the Valdese General Hospital. Weaver College, which was chartered in 1873, occupied grounds that had long been used by schools, the Salem Camp Ground. A building erected in I836 to entertain the Holston Conference served as a neighborhood school until 1854 when the Sons of Temperance built a larger house. A boarding school, the Masonic and Temperance High School housed there, served a large area until I862, reopening in I866. A fire destroyed the building in I 872, and the community rebuilt and expanded the school. Dr. James A. Reagan, physician and surgeon, was one of the founders and served during the first three years as president of the college, after which he continued to serve as a trustee. The college was chartered in I 873 with a local board of trustees as Weaverville College. A later president, W. C. McCarthy (1876-188o), is said to have procured sheep hides from neighboring farmers, which he tanned and used as diplomas. McCarthy wrote each diploma with a quill pen, in Latin. In I883 the property was deeded to the Methodist Episcopal Church South, and the Western North Carolina Conference supervised the �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning / I 55 college work from that time. The educator who served longest at the school was Marion A. Yost, who taught Latin, Greek, and other subjects for thirty-five years and was for ten years, r888-1898, both a teacher and president of the college. Three degrees, Bachelor of Arts, Bachelor of Science, and Master of Arts, were offered until I 896 when the last was dropped. From 1912-1934 the school was a junior college, and the name was shortened to Weaver College in 1912. Literary societies constituted the leading student activity. They were still flourishing in 1934 and were transferred with the college to Brevard College. Summer schools at Weaver had attracted teachers, tourists, and parents as well as regular students. When the transfer to Brevard was consummated thirty members of the student body and five faculty members made the move. Alumni of both Rutherford College and Weaver College are ardent supporters of Brevard College. It occupies the site of the Brevard Epworth School started at Brevard in 1895 by the Revered Fitch Taylor, aided by the Sunday schools and Epworth Leagues of the Western North Carolina Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church South. After his death in 1909 the Woman's Home Missionary Society took over the work, and the school, which then became the Brevard Institute, was accredited by the North Carolina State Board of Education. It served a worthy purpose in making high school available to mountain boys and girls when public schools were not in existence. After operating thirty-eight years, however, Brevard Institute was no longer needed; with new trends in education and the availability of public schools, a junior college was needed. Effects of the depression had been hard on Rutherford College and Weaver College, and the North Carolina Conference decided to merge the two in one new institution. The women's organization that had sponsored Brevard Institute offered its school plant, free of debt, to the conference, and the offer was accepted. Brevard College continued the tradition of Methodist aid to education in Western North Carolina. Citizens of Brevard and Transylvania County donated hundreds of acres of land and reconditioned the buildings of the former institute. The institution opened in the fall of 1934 as a self-help junior college with the students doing practically all of the work on the campus and on the college farm and dairy. Two Baptist associations started colleges in the southwestern �I56 / Part II: A Changing Society part of the state before the Civil War: Mars Hill College in Madison County, first called the French Broad Institute and established in I 856 by the French Broad Association, was chartered as Mars Hill College by the General Assembly in I 859; and Judson College in Hendersonville was founded by the Salem Association and approved by the Western Baptist Convention in I858. Mars Hill was coeducational and played an important part in its community, a crossroads center on what for many travelers was the favorite passage through the Southern Appalachians. Because of the location the spot was of strategic importance during the Civil War and was held by the Confederacy in spite of the Unionist sentiments of many of the people of the county. The college closed in I863 because of a lack of male students, and while Confederate soldiers were quartered there fire destroyed two buildings. Additional destruction almost brought ruin to the college and forty years went by before the equipment equalled that enjoyed by Mars Hill before the war. In spite of poverty, apathy, and the bitterness of the Reconstruction period, the buildings were used for some type of educational activity after I 86 5. College work was reinstated in I 86 5 but the next few years were a time of struggle to obtain funds, to repair the one remaining building, and to keep a president. In I87I and I872 a "Peabody school" was run, after which the college was dormant until I878. For a few years an orphanage occupied the buildings, and for two years L. B. Lunsford conducted a private school there. In I878 the institution was reinstated as a high school, its work beginning with a primary department. The frequent changes of presidents ended with the coming of Robert L. Moore in I 897 to serve forty-one years. During that time the institution became an accredited junior college. Enrollment grew from I83 students, mostly local residents, to 970 from twenty-four states and three foreign countries. By I964 it had become a senior college. Accreditation by the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools was granted in 1967. The music department was given membership as a senior college in the National Association of Schools of Music in 1960, and the department of business administration was made a member of the American Association of Collegiate Schools of Business in the same year. The Building of Judson College was an ambitious undertaking, and it would have been completed on schedule if the �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning J I 57 war had not come. The structure was of hand-hewn stone with handsome stone columns. The walls were finished by I86I but the roof was not completed until 1871. The trustees had to take a mortgage to pay the existing debt and continue construction. When the debt fell due a joint-stock company, the Western North Carolina Education Company headed by Pinckney Rollins, purchased the unfinished structure to keep it from falling into the hands of some other denomination. In I 878 work was resumed, one room was floored, and the free school of the township was taught there. In I 879 the coeducational Judson High School was held in the finished part of the building. The house was completed in October I 882, and the college began its session with five teachers. The name was changed several times during the construction period, from Hendersonville Female College to Western North Carolina Female College, to Judson Female College, and finally to Judson College. Although planned for women, it operated for twelve years as a coeducational college and graduated outstanding citizens. In I 892, the debt on the building never having been paid off, the company had to sell the property. The purchasers continued to operate a college there for two years, after which it was used as a high school. In 1903 Judson College was sold to the town of Hendersonville to be used as graded school building. A partial list of Baptist schools in Western North Carolina, compiled by John Preston Arthur, includes the following: Mars Hill College, Mars Hill; Yancey Institute, Burnsville; Mitchell Institute, Bakersville; Fruitland Institute, Hendersonville; Round Hill Academy, Union Mills; Haywood Institute, Clyde; Sylva Institute, Sylva; Murphy Institute, Murphy. All of these schools except Mars Hill College and Fruitland Institute have passed out of existence. Occupying the site of Round Hill Academy at Union Mills is Alexander Schools, Incorporated, a child-caring institution founded in I925 by J. F. Alexander. Open the year round, it is licensed to accept I 78 children. Since 1932 its academic work has been consolidated with the public school at Union Mills. Children in residence are ones who have been deprived of their homes by death or other circumstances. Modern and up-to-date buildings have been built by contributions from churches, laymen, and the Duke Foundation. Fruitland Institute is owned by the Baptist State Convention and is used during the academic year as a school for young ministerial students who do not have college �I 58 / Part II: A Changing Society training, and in the summers for assemblies and conferences. Methodists were always concerned about education in Western North Carolina before the public schools became effective. A list of some of their schools follows. Methodist Episcopal Church South: Asheville Female College, developed in I 856 from the Holston Methodist Female College established in I842; Hayesville College, Clay County, opened in I890 and in operation only one year, after which its assets were transferred to Trinity College; Tuscola Institute, Haywood County, founded in I855 by the Reverend William Hicks, followed by the Richland Institute (its site is now Lake Junaluska); Secondary School at Jefferson, established by the Mount Airy District, I9IO-I929; Brevard Institute, I895, given to the Woman's Board of Home Missions in 1905. Methodist Episcopal Church (North): Brown Seminary at Leicester, on Turkey Creek Camp Ground; Aaron Seminary, Montezuma, now Avery County, I890-I9I I; Fairview College, Traphill, Wilkes County, a private school accepted by the Conference in I 886; Etowah Institute near Brevard; Eagle Mills School at Eagle Mills, Wilkes County; Oberlin Home and School, ncar Lenoir, founded by Miss Emily Pruden in I885, name changed in I903 to Ebenezer Mitchell Home and School, moved to Misenheimer in I909 and named Pfeiffer College, now a senior liberal arts college (Miss Pruden established fifteen schools in North and South Carolina.); Allen High School, started by Mr. and Mrs. Louis M. Pease, given to the Woman's Home Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Allen Industrial and Home School was established for mountain Negro girls about 1875 by Mr. and Mrs. Louis M. Pease, social workers from New York who had come to Asheville to retire. The couple purchased land, including an old livery stable which they converted into a home and school. After conducting the school for twelve years they gave the property to the Woman's Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church (Northern) to be carried on as a mission school. In I 897 it was made a boarding school called the Allen Home School, now known as the Allen High School. It has become an example of excellence in secondary education for Negroes. For many years the curriculum included grades one through twelve, but as responsibility for the work of the grammar grades was assumed by the public schools, Allen High School limited �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning / I 59 its offerings to grades eight through twelve. The present buildings were built in the 1950's, the school is accredited, and the graduates are accepted by colleges and professional schools. Two Presbyterian assemblies have participated in the educational progress of Western North Carolina. The Asheville Normal and Associated Schools represent the work of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. (Northern), now the United Presbyterian Church. Mr. and Mrs. Pease, who founded the Allen Industrial and Home School, were closely associated with the founding of the excellent Asheville Normal which functioned from 1892 until 1940. Their first school for white girls developed from the boarding house which they maintained in their home. Vacationing guests observed that the girls employed for household work were capable but uneducated, and through the influence of a guest, Dr. Thomas Lawrence, the Board of Home Missions purchased the thirty acre tract owned by Mr. and Mrs. Pease and employed the Peases to help conduct a school, to be called the Home Industrial School. It opened in 1887 and was soon filled to capacity with seventy boarding students and forty day students, ranging in age from five to twenty. The Asheville Normal and Collegiate Institute was established in 1892 on the same property, to educate rural school teachers. Thus it antedated both the Cullowhee and Boone training schools. The Home Industrial School and the Normal and Collegiate Institute were among twenty-five day and boarding schools throughout Western North Carolina established by the Woman's Home Mission Board of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. In I 920 all of these schools in and around Asheville were organized into a system called Asheville Normal and Associated Schools with Dr. John E. Calfee as president. Two other schools of the twenty-five mentioned above were Dorland-Bell School for Girls at Hot Springs and the Asheville Farm School for boys. Dorland originated in the home of Dr. and Mrs. Luke Dorland, who had been working since 1867 at Scotia Seminary, which he founded, a Presbyterian school for Negro girls at Concord. Coming to Hot Springs in 1887 to rest, the Dorlands invited some children into their dining room to learn to read and write. Soon a school developed, which in 1893 the Woman's Board of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. sponsored. Two �160 / Part II: A Changing Society miles away at a farm called the Willows a home for boys was established by the same group. The Bell Institute, a third school, merged with Dorland in 1918 to form Dorland-Bell. Eventually housed in a campus of eight buildings, the school was accredited as a high school, but the work was always broader in scope than that of the usual high school. Mrs. Maud Gentry Long of Hot Springs, an alumna of Dorland-Bell, wrote, "The friends of this school are investing their money not at 4 or 6 per cent but in the lives of the womanhood of our mountains." The school's stated purpose was as follows: " ... to help girls from remote mountain districts who are not within reach of a good school; to lead those to a vision of the possibilities of a rich, happy life in the country; to send back into the mountain homes young women who will know how to make healthy, happy Christian homes .... Our main interest is in the girl who will have no schooling after she leaves here." Meanwhile in 1894 the Asheville Farm School was established at Swannanoa. The first students were young men, rather than boys, who had had no opportunity for schooling. As the years passed and the elementary schools improved, the Farm School was able to advance its work and to be a high school. Its campus was to be the home of Warren Wilson College. Warren Wilson College dates from 1942 when the Presbyterian Board of National Missions combined the Dorland-Bell School and the Asheville Farm School on the campus of the latter. At first it offered four years of high school work and two years of college studies. Each student continued his academic program and also majored in a vocational field, such as agriculture, auto mechanics, business, construction engineering, homemaking, journalism, woodworking, carpentry, printing, and weaving. Each student contributed half of each day to his vocational program. When high school work became readily available, it was dropped at Warren Wilson and two additional years of college work were added, the first class graduating with the A.B. degree in 1969. Since its founding the college has been concerned chiefly with young people of limited financial means and superior promise. Every student works part of each day, and thus the college is maintained and the student cost is reduced. In Asheville the Normal and Collegiate Institute was discontinued in 1940 as the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. changed its emphasis in the Southern highlands and especially in Western North Carolina to the liberal arts concept. But it had played a mighty part in the drama of education in the mountains. The �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning / 161 normal in 1925 began offering work to the four-year college level, leading to a degree, the Bachelor of Education, later the Bachelor of Science in Education. Asheville citizens supported the college by making contributions for new buildings. The normal was approved by the American Association of Teachers' Colleges. In 1930 the Home Industrial School was dropped. It was no longer needed. By 1936 the summer school of the normal enrolled r 500 students. President Calfee was able to influence numbers of noted professors to offer instruction in the summer school, and for several years Columbia University accepted credit earned at the Asheville summer school toward degrees at the former. This enabled Southern teachers to earn degrees at Columbia by doing much of their work in Asheville. Faculty members came from Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Pennsylvania, the United States Naval Academy, Virginia, Duke, Tulane, South Carolina, North Carolina, and many other universities of the highest prestige in the nation. Students from as many as thirty-four states attended in a single season. The summer school grew to be the second largest one in the South with a faculty of ninety-nine. Merchants and business firms, the Chamber of Commerce, and the people of the community cooperated with the normal, all of them recognizing it as a definite asset in advertising Asheville. But with Dr. Calfee's retirement in 1937 after 21 years, the conditions changed. The Board of Missions ended its support of the Asheville Normal and Teachers College as it was finally called. Asheville citizens attempted to keep it operating under the name Asheville College, but available funds were not sufficient, and it closed after the summer school of 1944. It had served its purpose. The Presbyterian Church in the U.S. (Southern) began at about the turn of the twentieth century to found some schools, largely through the initiative of interested people in the communities served. Such was the Westminster School in Rutherford County, established by some of the old families of the neighborhood, especially for boys, although a few girls were admitted. It was in operation from 1902 until 1923, offering work in twelve grades. Even the best of North Carolina's public schools at that time offered only eleven grades. Glade Valley School, near Sparta, was organized in 1910 as a coeducational boarding school. It is still in operation and is accredited by the Southern Association of Secondary Schools and Colleges and by the State Board of Education. In the northwestern part of the state the Southern Presby- �r62 / Part II: A Changing Society terian Church in 1897 acquired the services of Edgar Tufts. George McCoy, Asheville journalist titled an article describing Tufts' projects "What God and Edgar Tufts Did." Tufts had just completed his work at Union Seminary in Virginia when he came to Banner Elk to be pastor of a small church. Two years earlier during the summer Tufts and two other seminary students had worked in Northwestern North Carolina where two ladies were holding a small summer mission school. In I 897 Tufts invited some of the more advanced students to continue their studies in his home. In I 899 a two-room building was erected with contributions of work and materials by members of the community and aid from Tufts' friends to whom he had appealed for help. That school has grown into Lees McRae College, a junior college named for the two ladies who started the mission school, Mrs. Elizabeth McRae and Mrs. S. P. Lees. Tufts persuaded Dr. W. C. Tate to come to Banner Elk where he already had a small hospital in operation. In 1922 Grace Hospital was built, and in I933 a new and larger one replaced it, to serve twelve mountain counties. The latest hospital, built in the 196o's, is named the Charles Cannon Memorial Hospital. With money contributed by friends Tufts bought Lybrook Farm, a mile from the school, for an orphanage. It is named Grandfather Home because of its view of Grandfather Mountain. In 1924 after Tufts' death, the three institutions were incorporated as the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association, and the young Edgar Hall Tufts continued the work his father had started. Montreat-Anderson Junior College began in 1913 at the invitation of the Mountain Retreat Association to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, U.S., to use its conference ground and buildings in Buncombe County for educational purposes. Nine synods participated in establishing the Montreat Normal School, which received contributions from the synods until 19 3 I. Dr. R. C. Anderson, President of the Mountain Retreat Association, served as president of the normal. Gradually the college department developed and was accredited by the Southern Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools. In the early 1940's Montreat became a senior college, although it was not accredited as such. In the 1950's the high school department was dropped and in 1960 the college, which had been renamed Montreat-Anderson, retrenched, becoming a junior college again. Throughout its history it had been a girls' college, but is now coeducational. �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning / 163 Four schools were established by the Episcopal Church for the education of mountain youth. They were Christ School at Arden in Buncombe County, Patterson School at Legerwood in Caldwell County, Valle Crucis School in Watauga Counf)', and Appalachian School at Penland, Mitchell County. Christ School and Patterson School are strong institutions today. Christ School was at first primarily an industrial, coeducational institution. The tuition could be paid in work. Carpentry, printing, telegraphy, bookeeping, and typewriting were taught along with academic courses. Some students walked as many as ten miles each way to and from school. The General Education Fund of the diocese and private donations supported it. Within a few years the student body was limited to boys, and as the public schools of the state improved, boys from other states were accepted, and gradually accommodations were increased. The school won accreditation as a first class school for boys. Patterson School was founded by Mr. Samuel Patterson, who gave the old Patterson family home near Lenoir to the Episcopal Church, Jurisdiction of Asheville. Patterson was interested in agriculture and improved farming methods, and agriculture as well as academic courses were taught. Income came chiefly from donations of friends and a diocesan loan fund. As time passed the purpose of the school was enlarged to prepare boys for college and business as well as for hometown industries. Appalachian School was founded by Dr. Rufus Morgan, one of the most notable characters who ever walked the mountains. When he was a mere boy he wished his parents to use the money that they would spend for Christmas presents for him to buy food for a needy family. Quite early he resolved to devote his life to helping the people of the mountains. During the summers he spent his time tramping and getting to know mountain people. When Morgan graduated from the General Theological Seminary in New York, Bishop Homer of the Episcopal Church purchased the Penland property in Mitchell County so that Rufus Morgan could start a school there. When he and his bride arrived at Penland in 1914 there were two buildings on the site which had been used earlier by Mr. Wesley Conley for his "Seven Springs Baptist Industrial School." Morgan began his program of erecting buildings, making roads, establishing water systems, planting crops, administering to the physical needs of the people, molding character, and raising the level of spiritual life of the people and giving himself �164 / Part II: A Changing Society to the community. This work established, Morgan left Penland in 1918. He was succeeded by Miss Amy Burt, who was joined in 1920 by Miss Lucy Morgan, whose name became nearly synonymous with the later Penland School.* Bishop lves' interest in Valle Crucis and his establishment of a school for boys there in 1842 has been mentioned. Bishop Cheshire revived interest in Valle Crucis in the 189o's, and a school for girls was built, although boys were admitted as day students. Fire destroyed one of the buildings in 1919 and two teachers lost their lives. During World War II the school was permanently closed, and the campus and buildings arc used for conferences. The John C. Campbell Folk School was named for the author of The Southern Highlander and His Homeland. Campbell believed that the folk schools of Denmark had much to offer as models for the mountain people of North Carolina. The school is a noble and continuing experiment in adult education, a workshop for creative living. Its 366 acres of peaceful, rolling dairyland in Clay County, eight miles southeast of Murphy, its craft school, its folk music and dancing are the fulfillment of a dream ofJohn C. Campbell. Its purpose is to help people to "do beautiful things with hands and minds, to be a workshop for life." Campbell died in 1919 before his school had materialized, but his wife made his dream come true. She went to Denmark to study. She sought to answer the question: how to keep an enlightened, progressive, and contented farming population on the land. Mrs. Campbell realized that agricultural improvement had to go hand in hand with enlightenment. Therefore the John C. Campbell School has taught its students improved methods of dairying and farming. They farm the 366 acres scientifically. The school has sought to make the farmers in its area self-sufficient and contented, to make them prosperous and creative, to give them "economic independence based on self-help." In 1925 the school was incorporated with the approval of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers. The American Missionary Association (Congregational), the Board of National Missions of the Presbyterian church in the U.S.A., and the National Council of the Protestant Episcopal Church contributed toward * The Penland School was started as a handicraft department run in conjunction with the Appalachian School but with many adults participating. When the Appalachian School was discontinued Penland School continued to operate, and it purchased the land and buildings of Appalachian School. �Church Related and Private Institutions of Learning J 165 its support. The first classes were held in the winter of1927-1928. Subjects were simple field surveying, construction of model farm equipment, cooking and sewing, grammar, reading, writing, arithmetic of the most practical kind, lectures in history, literature, economic geography, health, daily music, agricultural science, bookkeeping, forestry, wood carving, weaving. The school did not give credits, but it sought to help young people to utilize fully their natural abilities and to make life in the country more interesting and rewarding. Students laughed, sang, danced, discussed, as well as worked. The philosophy of the school was to get students of the school to think and read and to let them work the rest for themselves. Annual dance courses were taught. Mrs. Campbell went to Massachusetts to see Cecil Sharp, the great English collector of songs and dances. He and she went through the country collecting folk tunes, songs, and ballads. The John C. Campbell Folk School still operates on the pattern of the Danish Folk School. It has some fifteen buildings used for school purposes, faculty homes, and dairying and farm outbuildings. The great part of the acreage is used for demonstration of scientific farming and forestry. An experimental school that does not fit into any pattern was Black Mountain College, founded in 1933 by a small group of faculty and administrators from Rollins College at Winter Park, Florida. They hoped to develop students who were able to "creatively meet the demands of our century." Major emphasis was placed on music, drama, creative writing, and the visual arts, painting, drawing, graphics, and architecture. Josef Albers, a former Bauhaus teacher, and his wife Anni were hired as the Visual Arts Department, and a place was won by their students of Black Mountain College that was significant in the world of modern art. With the resignation of Josef and Anni Albers the major emphasis of study changed to creative writing, and a literary review was produced. The college ceased to function in 1956, but the people who had studied there were reaching a stage of great influence in art and writing. While no degrees or credits had been offered, those students who had chosen to do further work were admitted to important graduate schools. �CHAPTER EIGHT Teacher Education ((And gladly would they learn and gladly teach." In the last fourth of the nineteenth century the General Assembly sought to improve teacher education by supporting normal schools and institutes. In I893 and I903 it began the support of the Cullowhee Normal and the Appalachian Training schools. As these schools evolved to become regional universities in 1967, they provided most of the teacher training for Western North Carolina. Legislation in I 876- I 877 provided for two normal schools, one at the state university and one for Negroes. President Kemp Plummer Battle of the university held summer normal schools until 1885. Although the plan of the General Assembly had been that only men would be accepted at the normal school in Chapel Hill, both men and women were enrolled. Some of the young men who were in attendance during the academic year, particularly Edwin A. Alderman and Charles Duncan Mciver, were persuaded to remain for the normal school where they were permanently won to the profession. Their work was to revolutionize the schools of the state. Teacher training as provided for by the Act of 1887 was carried on for Negroes at Fayetteville. To each of the two normal schools the state paid $2ooo and the Peabody Fund added $soo. Many books were contributed r66 �Teacher Education / 167 by publishers for use in the normal schools. The State Educational Association of 1872 formed at Wilmington must have passed out of existence, as in 1878 in Chapel Hill a North Carolina Teachers Association was formed, and again the organization of county associations was encouraged. Chapel Hill was a long way from the westernmost counties, and in 1879 only three Western North Carolina counties were represented in the student body of the normal. It was good news for the western counties when in 1881 the legislature provided for eight additional normal schools, four for white teachers and four for Negroes. To finance these, the state paid $500 to each and the Peabody Fund furnished $250 each. The one normal school in the mountains was at Franklin. Throughout the years that it was held, the majority of the members were from Macon County, and the county's schools came to be recognized as superior. When the normal in Chapel Hill was discontinued in 1885, four additional ones were created for white teachers, including schools at Boone and Asheville. The Boone Normal School was offered only two summers, after which it was transferred to Sparta, where in 1887 it was held from July 6 to 28. Charles Duncan Mciver, a young graduate of the state university who had attended the normal school at Chapel Hill, served as superintendent of the Sparta Normal, for which he received $125. His report of the Sparta school reveals some of the values and deficiencies of the normals: "Of the teachers who attended the Boone normal last year, not more than ten were at the Sparta normal. In fact there was only one teacher from Watauga County. Furthermore, from So to 90 per cent of the attendant teachers at Sparta had never seen any Normal School before. This indicates that the majority of teachers do not (often they cannot) go a great distance to attend normal schools. Small salaries and short terms render it, in many cases, impossible. Generally, too, these cases need Normal instruction more than any others. Normal Schools, or efficient County Institutes, should be brought within the reach of every teacher in the State. The locating of the school at Sparta this year is a move in that direction." The superintendent of the Asheville Normal School in the summer of 1887 was another of the bright young men who had attended the University Normal School, Edwin A. Alderman. Teaching arithmetic and reading in the Asheville Normal in 1887 was Philander P. Claxton. In that year Asheville voted �I 68 J Part II: A Changing Society to be a special charter school district with a graded school, and Philander Claxton was elected superintendent of the Asheville schools. A native of Tennessee, Claxton had studied at Johns Hopkins University, after which he had spent six months in Germany studying the school system. His biographer says that he brought enthusiasm and new methods and that he and his teachers indoctrinated Asheville for support of better schools. At teachers' meetings papers on Froebel, Rousseau, and Pestalozzi were read, and interest ranged from kindergartens and Greek education to psychology and methods of teaching special subjects. Mciver had referred to county institutes, which were being conducted in a number of the western counties. As early as 1878 Dr. Alexander Graham, superintendent of the Charlotte schools, conducted such institutes, with the aid of the Peabody Fund, and in 1881 the General Assembly passed a law permitting counties to hold institutes, really short normal schools, toward the support of each of which the state would pay $100. In 1883 Rutherford County held two such institutes, one for white teachers attended by thirty-five persons, and one the week following for Negro teachers. Polk County held a four-weeklong institute and Henderson County had a two-week one. The North Carolina Teacher, a magazine published privately in Raleigh, commented: "From these brief points you will observe that the mountains are alive to the great educational movement of the State." President Battle of the State University delivered two lectures at an institute in Sparta which caused him to write: "I have always been favorably impressed with the mountain people. The ordinary notion of their want of culture is a mistake. Some may lack the refined manners of the low counties but they are kind and hospitable and many are shrewd. Some of our ablest and most attractive orators were reared in the mountains." In 1883 a North Carolina teachers' chautauqua was suggested by the North Carolina Teacher. Again in 1884 in the February issue the idea was explored. The proprietor of White Sulphur Springs at Waynesville invited the teachers to spend a month there, and the Western North Carolina Railroad, newly completed to that point, offered low fares. The chautauqua was held beginning on June 16, 1884, and lasting two weeks. It differed from the normal schools in that there were no textbooks and no assignments. Colonel Francis W. Parker, who later became famous as founder and principal of the Chicago Institute, an �Teacher Education / 169 experimental school of the University of Chicago, was one of the speakers. The railroad offered a ticket that would permit teachers to attend the Franklin Normal School at the close of the chautauqua. Room and board for this vacation in the mountains cost six dollars per week at the hotel and from three to five dollars at homes in Waynesville. The North Carolina Teacher carried the appeal, "We want to give the pupils in our schools some idea of the State's gigantic system of internal improvements, as seen in the completion of the Western North Carolina Railroad, and the extension of the Ducktown Branch. The ride across the Blue Ridge Mountains reveals one of the most remarkable feats of engineering skill on earth .... As the train climbs up and winds around those great mountains, rising one hundred and sixteen feet to each mile traveled, often shooting through a dark and rocky tunnel and over the steepest of trestles the grandeur of the view far exceeds the expectation of the most brilliant imagination." Perhaps this was the first convention held in Western North Carolina by any group, and the enthusiasm of the members was great. Railroad officials cooperated, providing a special train for the group of one hundred teachers who boarded at Goldsboro and the additional one hundred who joined them at Raleigh. By the time the train reached White Sulphur Springs there were three hundred aboard. The train was divided into two sections to cross the mountains, and at one time the first section was passing over a portion of the road one thousand feet above the other section, causing much applause as the passengers experienced this wonderful sight. Both sections stopped for breakfast at the new Round Knob Hotel, and the party enjoyed the Round Knob Fountain which threw water nearly three hundred feet in the air. During the chautauqua provisions were made for recreation, and on the fourth day about seventy-five teachers rode horseback to the peak of Lickstone Mountain, with Wid Medford, celebrated bear hunter and mountain guide, to lead them. The next two annual sessions of the teachers' chautauqua were held at Black Mountain, after which a permanent building was erected at Morehead City, where subsequent chautauquas were offered. The county institutes had been held during the months of July and August, and attendance was optional. As many of the rural teachers had no education except what they received in the district schools, further training was essential. The State �170 / Part II: A Changing Society Round Knob, where the trains stopped for passengers to eat. Note the winding track ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. The fountain (geyser) at Round Knob �Teacher Education / 171 Board of Education in 1889 decided to select two competent men as institute conductors to carry on the work throughout the entire year, requiring the dismissal of school at the time of the institute in any county and making teacher attendance compulsory. The four thousand dollars hitherto appropriated for normal schools annually was now assigned to the support of institutes and other work for the instruction of teachers. The rules for holding institutes were made by the State Board of Education, while the board of education in each county was expected to provide a suitable place and to defray all local expenses, including the room and board of the conductor of the institute. The county superintendent was to assist the conductor and to help administer a permissiv~ examination at the end of the institute. Those who passed would receive three-year first-grade teachers' certificates which could be used in any county in the state. Edwin A. Alderman and Charles D. Mciver, both of whom had been superintendents of normal schools, were selected as institute conductors. They felt that "the logical approach to the southern educational problem was through the teacher and his training." Perhaps it was because of the influence of the two that the normals were discontinued and the state institutes were started. Not only were the institutes to serve as a pedagogical shortcut, reaching every teacher in the state, but Alderman and Mciver believed that "the gospel of education'' must be taken to everyone: parents, committeemen, and the public at large. It was impossible for two men to hold an institute in every county, and Dr. J. L. M. Curry, agent of the Peabody Fund, gave money to enable the State Board of Education to employ M. C. S. Noble, J. Y. Joyner, and E. P. Moses during July and August of 1889, and the same men plus Alexander Graham, John J. Blair, and E. L. Hughes in July and August 1890. In the western counties Negro teachers attended the same institutes as whites, the Negroes sitting apart in a place assigned to them. Mciver and Alderman divided the state, Mciver holding institutes from the foothills to the western boundary the first year, staying a week or two in each county. After working with teachers and trustees of schools he would hold at last a "Peoples' Day" in which he addressed the public in churches, warehouses, schoolhouses, on local problems and on public education. Emphasis was placed on "lack of uniformity in textbooks, want of interest on the part of parents and committeemen, the perpetual �172 / Part II: A Changing Society change of teachers and the inadequacy of records they left behind them, and the want of general supervisory power, ... the work of the county superintendent being largely clerical." The following year Alderman held institutes in the west. He outlined his and Mciver's purposes in these categories: I. To carry to the people definite knowledge of the educational work resting on the public schools; 2. To carry to the doors of the public school teachers, who could not seek it, definite instruction as to the meaning of teaching and the teacher's office, and training in scientific methods of teaching; 3. To make suggestions that would tend to perfect and increase the efficiency of the system. Among the points of concern emphasized by Alderman and Mciver in their reports concerning the institutes were the use of Webster's spelling book by about half of the schools, which produced children who could not read but who "spelled through" the speller; children who knew more or less grammar but could not write simple English decently; children who had "been over" arithmetic but "had no grasp upon the simple essentials of that science." The two criticized the bad schoolhouses and poorly trained teachers. Alderman wrote, "I find that only a small fraction of the teachers have had the advantages of any ampler training than that offered by the public schools ... [ ; ] professional training for their difficult work they have had but little. About twelve per cent of them have read a technical work on teaching." Alexander Graham who conducted institutes in the summer of I 890 gave in his report a glimpse of educational progress in the counties that he visited. He was pleased with the interest shown in education in Madison County. Thirty-seven schoolhouses had been constructed during the past six years, ten of them costing $1200 apiece, twenty-five costing $soo each; only two were built of logs. Yet only twelve teachers attended the institute. In contrast was the one held in Waynesville, where seventy teachers attended and visitors occupied all of the remaining space in the room. In Graham County the message of the institute, that "Every child has the same right to be educated as he has to be free; the one right is as sacred as the other," was opposed by some, one person being heard to remark, "Men who talk like that ought to be lynched." Thirty teachers attended the institute at Robbinsville in Graham County, and a group of four or five hundred Republicans and Democrats listened to Graham, but he was dissatisfied with the reception ofhis address. �Teacher Education / 173 Later when he visited Franklin he attributed his success there to the influence of the splendid normal schools that had been held in the town for so many years, and he lamented, "Oh, Franklin! if the mighty educational work which had been done for thee had been done in Robbinsville, it would have repented long ago." At Hayesville he addressed the Farmers' Alliance. The crowd was large and the interest was great. He called Clay "the banner county on education" and complimented the county on the establishment of Hayesville College and its influence, concluding, "I think they will have four more schools of high grade in Clay in the near future." [The college had 190 students, but it lasted only one year.] Clay County had a small population, and there were only eighteen white teachers, six of whom received three-year certificates during the course of the institute, an unusually large percentage to qualify for that honor. At Webster, Jackson County, eight certificates were issued and at Waynesville nine certificates were earned. Graham wrote, "I never met a nicer people or more earnest teachers, and I was struck with the absence of old teachers. I examined not more than three gray heads." In eight counties he addressed over four thousand people on education and free schools and issued fiftythree certificates. The institutes were almost like a great religious revival, and their influence was inestimable for the inspiration they gave in the movement for educated teachers in the mountainous portion of the state. In r 889 the county board of education of Jackson County held an institute at Webster, followed by a state institute in charge of Edward P. Moses, one of North Carolina's most dynamic educational leaders, superintendent of the Raleigh schools, who had taught at the summer normal school at Chapel Hill and had won some great disciples for the teaching profession. Among the teachers attending the institutes at Webster was Robert Lee Madison, who was to found a future state university in the mountains. A youth from Lexington, Virginia, Madison had come to Jackson County in December 1885 at the age of nineteen to teach in the Qualla community. By r889 he was serving in two capacities, editor of the newly-established Tuckaseigee Democrat in the new town of Sylva on the Ducktown Branch of the �174 / Part II: A Changing Society Western North Carolina Railroad, and teacher for the second year in the school at Sylva. This was a subscription school, the public money having been spent for "patent desks." The fortyodd students ranged in age from six to twenty-three, and the subject matter, from the ABC's to algebra, rhetoric, and French. Madison's stay in Sylva, he looked upon as "marking time," although he had abandoned his plan to study medicine and had decided that teaching was to be his profession. To prepare for his profession he had accumulated eight or ten first class books on the subject. A small group of his students volunteered for a class in practice-teaching which he had organized, and he dreamed of a permanent school for educating teachers. In July when Madison attended both of the institutes in Webster he was won by Moses as Mel ver and Alderman had been. Madison later reminisced: "As never before I became inspired. The effects of his [Moses'] mastery of the principles of education and of his stirring style and contagious enthusiasm for the sacred vocation of teaching were irresistible and convinced me more than ever that ... I must devote myself to teaching ... and find my work here in these delectable mountains." As the institute closed Moses was impressed with young Madison's examination paper, and after a talk with him offered him the principalship of a high school in Raleigh, but the offer was declined as the young man chose to stay in the mountains. Later that year Madison accepted an invitation to teach the rural Cullowhee High School in Jackson County. With forty public school children it drew only forty dollars a year from county funds and a few cents a year per capita from the state treasury, totaling just enough to pay a teacher $22.50 a month for a two-month term. Yet the patrons of the school guaranteed a salary of $400 for a ten-month year. The publicspirited community intended to have a good school. Boarding students from other districts were welcomed and were housed in the neighborhood at prices ranging from four to six dollars a month. Some of the "school-minded men" even put up little houses or "shacks" or allowed students to build such houses on their land, so they might "batch" and keep the cost at "the vanishing point." Enrollment grew rapidly to approximately one hundred and the school was obviously a success. The following year Cullowhee High School attracted students from neighboring South Carolina as well as from other counties and had a staff of three teachers including the principal, Madison, �Teacher Education / 175 a nmsic and art instructor, and a primary teacher. Commencement in I 890 was colorful, lasting three days. A sermon was preached by D. B. Nelson of Asheville and an address was given by Kope Elias, prominent lawyer of Franklin. Madison recalled: "Music for the occasion was furnished by the Cherokee Indian brass band of sixteen instruments played by Indian boys in uniform. Large crowds attended all the exercises and basket-dinner in abundance was served each day. Such was the lavish hospitality of the community that for three days, all visitors from a distance were housed and ted- and their horses too- without charge. Some near-by homes had as many as fifty for a single meal; and when the beds were all full, pallets of quilts were spread upon the floors, so that if accommodations could not be palatial they could at least be palletable." In I 8y3 Madison saw an opportunity to make his dream come true. The state was experiencing a momentum toward practical education as a part of a movement of the farmers in North Carolina as in many other states to organize for their common interest. In I 887 an influential Farmers' Alliance was fostered in the state by Colonel L. L. Polk and his periodical, The Pro~~;ressive Farmer. Farmers had serious financial problems during the eighties and nineties and they were convinced of the benefits to be enjoyed from better public schools and from colleges that could provide a practical education. Under the influence of a crusade for agricultural education the State Agricultural and Mechanical College was established near Raleigh in 1887. In 1890 a large number of farmers were elected to the legislature, and in 1891 the "farmers' legislature" established the Normal and Industrial School for White Girls and the Agricultural and Technical College for Negroes, both at Greensboro, and the School for the Deaf and Dumb at Morganton. In this rash of legislation for schools, Madison perceived an opportunity for an appropriation for a normal department at Cullowhee. He first proposed to Walter E. Moore, member of the General Assembly from his district, that he introduce a bill to establish a normal department in connection with some existing high school in each of the nine congressional districts in the state, providing $3000 to each, a total of $27,000. The state would have no capital outlay and all of the public schools in the state would benefit from improvement of teachers. When Moore replied that such a bill would have no chance to pass �176 / Part II: A Changing Society at that session, Madison asked him to introduce a bill providing $3000 for a normal department at Cullowhee. The measure passed with an annual appropriation of$1500, as one act in a decade of legislation for higher education. In 1895 a fusion legislature dominated by Republicans and Populists established a normal department at Slater Industrial Academy at Winston, for Negroes, which had been in operation for three years as a private institution named for John F. Slater, philanthropist. The school grew into Winston-Salem State Teachers College, and in 1969 the General Assembly designated it Winston-Salem State University. It and the Salisbury Normal School established in 1881 and abolished in 1903 were the only ones in the western half of the state for training Negro teachers, and they were too far away from the mountain counties to help the Negro teachers there. As salaries of Negro teachers were less than those of white teachers, the Negroes in Western North Carolina were almost invariably men or women with no preparation for the work. Biddle University at Charlotte, now Johnson C. Smith University, offered normal school work, but graduates of the university found employment in the cities where pay and living conditions were better than the rural schools offered. The law that created the appropriation for Cullowhee placed its normal department under the care and supervision of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, who had power to regulate it and to discontinue it if he found the department inefficient or unnecessary. The principal of the high school was authorized to confer three-year first-grade certificates valid throughout the state to graduates. Students preparing to teach were not required to pay tuition. By 1894 the appropriation began to pay dividends when twelve normal-course graduates went out to teach. The next year sixteen first-grade certificates were granted. In I 899 Principal Madison reported that seventy-six students representing seven counties were attending the normal school and that eighty had been granted scholarships for the 1900-1901 term. The department had furnished more than two hundred public school teachers, most of them teaching in the rural schools. He characterized the work of the department as a "unique and very necessary one." He admitted that the work of the Normal and Industrial College and of the Department of Pedagogy at the state university was of a much higher order than the �Teacher Education j 177 QUALIFICATIONS OF WHITE AND COLORED TEACHERS IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA, I9II-I9I2, IN SOME COUNTIES County 1St Grade 2nd Grade 3rd Grade Normal Training College Diploma White Ashe Buncombe Rural Asheville Burke Clay Henderson Rural Hendersonville Macon Madison Mitchell Wilkes Rural N. Wilkesboro Jackson Watauga 774 132 132 IS I4 54 36 4 4 4 86 44 53 r6 42 6 3 17 14 9 so 41 25 46 :l2 30 14 5 28 55 120 PER CENT OF TOTAL 16 37 7 3 3 55 5 6 4 12 6 5 4 10 2 44% 20% -4% 25% Colored Ashe Bunco me Rural Asheville Burke Clay Henderson Rural Hendersonville Macon Madison Mitchell Wilkes Rural N. Wilkesboro Jackson Watauga PER CENT OF TOTAL Source: Biennial Report, IO 8 IO I I 3 17 9 5 2 5 2 4 4 4 6 2 r6 10 2 2 2 3 52% 1910-1912. 4 0/ 10 �178 / Part II: A Changing Society Cullowhee institution was able to offer; but the two former were preparing teachers for academies, city schools, and some of the colleges. He wrote: "Our sphere, while an humbler one, most largely affects the great body of public school children outside of the towns. Our specific work is to prepare teachers for the rural and village elementary schools, and there is no other State institution, so far as we know, that is doing this to any appreciable extent .... It is just as necessary that normal instruction of teachers be provided for as that the term of rural public schools should be lengthened. 'As is the teacher, so is the school.' '' The curriculum was that of the secondary school with teacher training courses added. The academic instruction included spelling and defining, arithmetic, grammar, composition, English literature, elementary algebra, United States history, North Carolina history, civil government, political and physical geography, physiology and hygiene, physics, and elementary Latin. The professional work consisted of theory and practice of teaching, principles of education, history of education, psychology applied to teaching, lectures, and professional reading. From this beginning the school grew to be Western Carolina University, discussed earlier. A new building was completed at Cullowhee for the Normal department in 1904, most of the $7,500 required having been subscribed by private individuals. It was located in a wooded tract of about three and one-fourth acres contributed by David Rogers and named in his honor "Rogers Park." The demand for graduates was so great that it could not be met. A summer school was held in the summer of 1904 with a faculty of seven, including E. P. Moses. Teachers from Graham, Clay, Macon, Haywood, and Transylvania counties as well as from Jackson attended and Madison hoped to make the summer school a permanent feature of the school's work. He asked that the annual appropriation for succeeding years include funds for summer schools on a larger scale. He ended his report for 1904 with the assurance that the "patriotic legislators" would encourage in every way the work which "means so much in this promising, yet long-neglected section of our State." Madison remarked in the 1904 report that there were "demands for the establishment of similar institutions in other parts of the state," and he encouraged the legislature to continue and to enlarge provisions for training young men and women �Teacher Education / 179 for teaching in the rural and village elementary schools. This advice had already been acted upon by the General Assembly in 1903. In 1902 Principal Madison had met Blanford Barnard Dougherty, co-principal with his brother, Dauphin Disco, of the Watauga Academy in Boone. The two brothers had built the academy, 1899-1900, furnishing half the money from their own assets and cash. The rest was contributed by citizens in the area as a result of a fund-raising campaign that reached across the county, the gifts ranging from twenty-five cents to the $soo from Moses H. Cone, industrialist, who had a summer home in Blowing Rock. The total of the contributions was said to be near $1100. B. B. Dougherty had degrees from CarsonNewman College and from the state university, while Dauphin Disco Dougherty had his bachelor's degree from Wake Forest College, which the younger brother had also attended for one year. Both brothers had been teachers in academies and in Holly Springs College. Edwin A. Alderman had been president of the state university when Blanford Dougherty was a student there, and M. C. S. Noble had been Professor of Pedagogy. Both no doubt influenced the young man's interest in teacher training, as did his employment in the summer of 1899 holding institutes in eight counties along the Blue Ridge. Blanford Dougherty was county superintendent of Watauga County at the time the new academy was built, and from the beginning some of Watauga Academy's graduates became teachers. So when he met Robert Lee Madison in the summer of 1902 while both were serving as instructors in the summer school at Mars Hill College, he learned about Cullowhee's appropriation from the state for the support of a normal department. He plied Madison with questions about how to get state aid for teacher training, and by the end of the summer he had fixed his determination on turning Watauga Academy into a teacher-training school with state support. Captain Edward F. Lovill wrote a bill and Dougherty himself went to Raleigh to present his case- his first visit to the state legislature. He later told about his harrowing experiences. Governor Aycock, President Mciver of the Normal and Industrial College, the president of the state university, and the State Superintendent of Public Instruction were all against starting a new training school. Perhaps they remembered how ineffective the eight normal schools of the 188o's had been. After William Newland of Lenoir agreed to present the bill, he and Dougherty waited three weeks to get �I 8o / Part II: A Changing Society a hearing before the Committee on Education. That committee reported unfavorably, but a favorable minority report made it possible to place the Newland Bill before the General Assembly. Dougherty made an hour-long speech to a joint session, and the House passed the bill, but the Senate vote was a tie. Clyde Hoey, a senator from Cleveland County, the presiding officer in the Senate at the time, voted in favor of the measure and thus it passed. Henceforth Blanford Dougherty was to visit Raleigh during the sessions of every General Assembly until his retirement as president of Appalachian State Teachers College in 1954. The school, to be called the Appalachian Training School, would receive an appropriation of $I 500 for a building, when a like amount had been paid by private individuals, and an annual payment of$2ooo for teachers' salaries and maintenance. Tuition was to be free to all who would sign a pledge to teach two years in the public schools of North Carolina. Nowhere in the act was Watauga Academy mentioned. The board of trustees for Appalachian Training School, members of which were appointed in the law, were to open books for subscriptions to the building fund and to choose a site for the training school. Several communities in three counties competed for the new school and made offers of land, money, and buildings. Boone offered $1000 and the use of Watauga Academy, and the board of trustees voted to make Boone the permanent location of the school, with Watauga Academy serving as its first home. This school became Appalachian State University in 1967. Friends of Cullowhee in the General Assembly favored the passage of the Newland Act, and from 1903 until 1912 when Madison's first administration ended, he and Dougherty cooperated in winning support for the two training schools. (Cullowhee's name was changed in 1905 to Cullowhee Normal and Industrial School.) In 1908 the legislature voted to establish a third training school for teachers in the eastern part of the state at Greenville. A number of efforts were made from time to time to abolish both of the western schools and to establish one more centrally located in or near Asheville. The greatest threat came in I9II when Dr. George T. Winston, former president of the state university and the State Agricultural and Mechanical College, upon his retirement to Asheville became a spokesman for a training school in Asheville and introduced a bill in the General Assembly to establish in Asheville a western training school. Both Dougherty and Madison were in Raleigh �Teacher Education I 181 working against Winston's measure and it was rejected by the Appropriations Committee. Again an effort was made in 1915 when Governor Locke Craig, a resident of Asheville, in his gubernatorial address asked the General Assembly to establish in the western part of the state a school similar to the one at Greenville. Craig completely ignored the two existing training schools, but it was understood that he would have the new institution absorb the ones at Cullowhee and Boone. The lawmakers rejected the proposal by a slight majority. The trustees of the Appalachian Training School elected B. B. Dougherty Superintendent and D. D. Dougherty Principal. There were at the beginning four other faculty members, one of whom was Mrs. D. D. Dougherty. Three terms were held, a three-month fall term, a spring one of four months, and one in the summer of two months. The public school of Boone was incorporated in the training school and all between the ages of six and twenty-one could attend the free term in the fall. They might attend the other terms by paying a small fee. Students from a distance were given room and board at twentyfive cents per day. In the suburbs of Boone near the Watauga Academy a tract of four and one-half acres was purchased for $212.50, and a brick building (which continued in use until it was demolished in 1967 to make way for a new administration building) was erected at the cost of $7000, of which $3000 was contributed by three hundred people, many of them poor. The building consisted of four classrooms, a library, office, music room, art room, and auditorium. Three hundred twenty-four students attended during the first year, one hundred ninety being public school teachers. Fifty-one came from a distance and paid tuition. In 1907 the General Assembly provided for rural public high schools, but it was many years before such were established in Western North Carolina and the two training schools continued to offer high school subjects with the teacher training superimposed. In 1917 a State Educational Commission was created by law to investigate various features of public education. The commission was authorized by the statute to call upon any source for aid, and the General Education Board was asked for advice. The study of North Carolina's schools was placed in the hands of Dr. Frank P. Bachman, working in cooperation with Dr. Wallace Buttruch, president, and Dr. Abraham Flexner, secretary of the General Education Board. Concerning Cullowhee �I 82 / Part II: A Changing Society Boys and girls were segregated at Appalachian Training School. The building on the left was the original Watauga Academy Normal and Appalachian Training School, the report concluded that these were "of non-standard type which must for the present necessarily be of lower grade, that is, admit students who have less than a standard four-year high school course." This, the commission believed necessary because, they said, "only three counties in the western part of the state, Cherokee, Buncombe, and Haywood, had standard high schools." The recommendation of the commission was that henceforth both training schools leave all high school instruction to such high schools as should be established in the mountain sections and concentrate on normal school work for elementary teachers. The commission urged, "[These schools] should admit students who have completed the seventh grade of elementary schools and graduates of non-standard high schools, and give them a two, three, or four year course planned to meet the needs of elementary teachers. No graduates from standard high schools should be admitted; such graduates would go to Chapel Hill, to Greensboro, or to Greenville, or to private colleges offering courses in education . . .. Both schools are well located to serve their respective sections, and if properly developed and equipped should graduate at least 100 elementary teachers a year." �Teacher Education / I 83 During the next decade the histories of the two schools were roughly parallel, because legislative action applied to both of them. Cullowhee State Normal and Industrial School had been upgrading its curriculum for several years, and by the academic year I9I7-I9I8 it was offering two years of college work. In 1921-1922 the high school had separated from the college, although it remained on the same campus. Two years later a plan was inaugurated to have the high school absorbed by the local school system under the joint sponsorship of the normal school and the county board of education. The local public school after that time served as a laboratory and practice center for the college. Governor Cameron Morrison showed an interest in the two western schools and pledged his support for an increased appropriation and expansion of their programs. In 1921 the General Assembly made Appalachian a standard two-year normal. There, as at Cullowhee, the elementary and secondary schools would be sponsored jointly by the county board of education and the normal school. Physical plants and enrollments grew, and in 1925 the legislature granted new charters to both institutions and changed their names to Appalachian State Normal School and Cullowhee State Normal School. Enrollment continued to increase and the administrations of both began to plan ways to expand the usefulness of the normal schools to the areas they served. The tendency of normal schools in the nation was to expand to four-year college programs, as state requirements for the education of teachers were advanced. Consequently the General Assembly in 1929 again changed the names of the schools, to Appalachian State Teachers College and Western Carolina Teachers College. The two were now qualified to educate teachers for high schools and were admitted to membership in the American Association of Teachers Colleges, later renamed the American Association of Colleges for Teacher Education. Eventually both were accredited by the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools. Their further development into multi-purpose universities was discussed in a preceeding chapter. �CHAPTER NINE From the Heart) the Hand) and the Head To create handicrafts that are beautiful satisfies a basic human need. Handicrafts arc creative, often emotionally pleasurable. They are popular, cherished by their collectors and purchasers. They recreate artifacts of the past and they become the art works of the present and the future. They are usually the product of the leisure time of their craftcrs. They are wonderful as an avocation. Their sale brings added money, like surplus value, to their creators, but it seldom brings in an income sufficient to enable their makers to lead a good life. Handicrafts are, however, the products of the heart, the hand, and the head. When people moved into the mountains, "took up land," built their cabins, made their homes, they had to be self-sufficient. For their necessities and to satisfy their creative urges they fostered and developed their handicrafts. They had to furnish their mountain homes or log cabins with wooden articles and furniture hand crafted from the native forest. They had to make their beds, tables, chairs - all of their furniture. These articles of wooden furniture were necessary, useful, and often artistic. Corn had many uses. Cornmeal was a useful food for people; corn fed livestock; corn shucks were used for bed ticks, to braid collars for mules and horses, to make mats for the cabin door-way and floor, and to make dolls for girls and toys for children. Chair covers were made from corn shucks, pipes from corncobs and reeds. �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 185 Basket making required skill and ingenuity. Baskets were made of oak splits, willow switches, or wild honeysuckle vine. They were used for barter, and the art of basket making was passed on from father to son. Many mountain craftsmen made musical instruments: banjos, fiddles, .guitars, dulcimers, recorders, and shepherds' pipes. The instruments were necessary for the square dances or "play party games" or to accompany the singing of old ballads and carols. Potters' clay or kaolin was plentiful and there were a number of potteries in which churns, crocks, jugs, plates, pitchers, and dishes were made. Moist clay was held against the potter's kick-wheel and clay was shaped into the desired piece. These shaped pieces were then baked in kilns. There were iron mines and forges called bloomeries. In 1788 the North Carolina legislature passed a law granting three thousand acres of cultivable land to anyone who would build a forge and carry on iron making. These bloomeries were necessary for making iron for horse shoes, kettles, plows, the metal parts of wagons. Three early forges were in Buncombe County, and in 1820 mining began at Cranberry. The crude iron was processed at the mine into bars. The bars were then bound together and hauled by oxcarts to blacksmiths. The pioneer blacksmiths made kettles, cranes, and irons for fireplaces, axes, knives, nails, rifle barrels, and many farm tools. For generations members of the same families were famous blacksmiths and gunsmiths, like the members of the Boone family of Burnsville who have made artistic pieces of wrought iron. Daniel Boone VI of Burnsville did wrought iron work for the Williamsburg restoration and ornamental iron work for the Hound Ears Lodge. Many mountaineers raised sheep, and most women carded and spun the wool and wove the cloth for use in the house and for clothing for all members of the family. Many of them took pride in the beautiful bedspreads that they wove, and every woman wanted at least one fancy quilt. Pieces of colored cloth were woven, saved, and then pieced into the designs of these quilts, which were and still are made in many pretty patterns. The bedspreads or coverlets often called "kiverlids" were made of wool woven on to a flax or cotton warp. They were dyed into lovely soft colors with home-made vegetable dyes. With the coming of the railroads and the highways the mountain handicrafts declined. Cheap cotton cloth largely �I 86 / Part II: A Changing Society supplanted handwoven materials; and metal tools, utensils, and objects could be bought from hardware stores more cheaply and in greater variety than they could be made by village blacksmiths. Although mountain families had little cash, they bartered eggs, chickens, dried fruit, herbs, furs, cordwood, galax leaves for these "storebought" articles. Only a few women continued to weave. The old women forgot how to read "drafts" (pattern drawings) and to make the old familiar patterns. The art, the craft, the skill requisite for weaving cloth and designing quilts and coverlets were disappearing and being lost in North Carolina when in 1895 Miss Frances Goodrich was presented a forty-year-old coverlet as a gift. With the coverlet was a "draft" for the "Double Bowknot" pattern. Miss Goodrich, an Ohioan, and a woman companion were living in Brittain's Cove twelve miles north of Asheville and running a school there. These women were interested in the social and cultural welfare of the mountain people. Miss Goodrich was much impressed by the beauty of the coverlet. She sent it to friends in the North and asked if there would be a market for artistic handicrafts like coverlets, quilts, and hand-woven materials. When she learned that there was an avid market, particularly for woven items, she organized the women in the neighborhood. They located old looms and experienced weavers, especially the ones who knew how to do vegetable dyeing. Younger women began to learn to weave from the older ones, and the coverlets woven in the mountain homes and cabins found a ready sale. Miss Goodrich set up a roadside market near Marshall on the main highway leading from Tennessee to South Carolina. I-lere a man named Allan had had a stand for drovers during the turnpike days. He had pens for the stock and accommodations for the drovers. As a result Miss Goodrich chose the name the Allanstand Cottage Industries. An annual exhibit of Allanstand Crafts was held in Asheville, and in 1917 a permanent salesroom was opened in that city to show these products, particularly to the well-to-do visitors who were interested in creative crafts. This venture was so successful that the Allanstand Cottage Industries were incorporated. Except for a small dividend to the stockholders, the profits were to go to the craftswomen and craftsmen of the mountains. In 1931 Miss Goodrich gave the Allanstand Industries to the Southern Highlands Handicraft Guild. �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 187 Miss Goodrich thus was a pioneer in popularizing and preserving mountain crafts. Her aims were to give paying work to women whose homes were too isolated to enable them to market their wares; to give these mountain women a new hope and a new interest; to save from extinction the old crafts and to produce artifacts of beauty and value. In addition to coverlets, bedspreads, quilts, the Allanstand Industries produced and sold table runners, mats, pillow and dresser covers. Mrs. George W. Vanderbilt was interested in mountain people. To aid some of them to secure economic competence, she established a school in Biltmore Village shortly after 1900. She employed Miss Eleanor P. Vance and Miss Charlotte Yale to teach the people carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing fabrics suitable for men's suits. The original intent was to secure the wool from the sheep on Biltmore Estate and to have the wool prepared for weaving in the mountain homes. The woven product was rough. Misses Vance and Yale went to the British Isles to study the production processes used there. As a result the wool for the Biltmore Homespun cloth was imported, and the Biltmore suiting fabrics, exceptional in beauty and wearing quality, were woven locally and with pride. The weaving department of the industries grew rapidly. It was under Mrs. Vanderbilt's personal care until it grew to such size that commercialization was needed. Mr. Fred L. Seely of Asheville bought the industries and moved the establishment and personnel to the site on Sunset Mountain near Grove Park Inn where it has remained. This weaving industry became the largest project of its kind in the world. In the summer of 1914 Rufus Morgan founded the Appalachian School. During the summer of 1913 he had visited every home in the neighborhood. In those homes he found rare old coverlets, blankets, Iinsey-woolsey, and jeans- all hand woven. In the smoke houses and outbuildings were the relics of handhewn looms and spinning wheels. These had been discarded when "store-bought" cloth became readily available. In the home of Aunt Susan Phillips he found a spinning wheel and a loom still being used for weaving. There were many pattern coverlets which she had woven before her eyes had given out. Because of Aunt Susan Phillips and Aunt Cumi Woody, Morgan decided to include hand work in his program of instruction. He wished to train the heart, the hand, and the head, and hand weaving fitted admirably into his scheme. On �188 J Part II: A Changing Society Demonstration of spinning and weaving at the Brinegar cabin on the Blue Ridge Parkway NATIONAL PARK SERVI CE PHOTOS one of his trips to Valle Crucis he found a comparatively young woman who was weaving the patterns and designs of her ancestors but was adapting them to the needs of the present day. This young woman, Mrs. Finley Mast, promised to teach Rufus Morgan's sister Lucy Morgan to weave. Miss Lucy was then a student in a Michigan teachers' college. Rufus Morgan urged his sister to come, to learn weaving from Mrs. Mast, and to teach it at Penland at the institution Morgan had named Appalachian School. Miss Lucy came. In 1923 she learned weaving and began to teach it, both to the girls in the school and to the older women in the community. There was a two-fold purpose in teaching the people to w eave: to perpetuate this native craft and to provide for the people a more abundant living. New efficient looms were taken to the homes of the mountain women and they soon wove "log cabin" rugs. Miss Lucy had to walk to each home to teach the women to warp, beam, and "thread up." By 1925 roads had been built and she could drive in her truck to the homes of the weavers. Next a weaving house was established, and it was difficult to furnish work for all who applied for it. Then Miss Morgan and Miss Burt (who had succeeded Rufus Morgan) had to market and sell the woven products. In 1924 there was a booth at the State Fair in which Miss Morgan sat weaving. The State Department of Vocational Education became interested and employed her as a vocational �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 189 education teacher. She received federal assistance for vocational training for women and girls. Also $1400 worth of woven goods was sold at the Episcopal Church convention in New Orleans. She went to Chicago and studied for nine weeks under Mr. Edward F. Worst, learning very complicated weaving. Shortly afterward, in 1928, a pottery department was added to the Weaving Institute. "Proff" Koch ofChapel Hill (director of the North Carolina Playmakers) christened the organization "the Penland Weavers and Potters." In 1928, $2400 worth of goods was sold at the Episcopal convention and $r8,ooo worth during the year 1929. The Penland School was incorporated in 1929 as a non-profit educational institution. It has six large buildings and a number of smaller ones valued years ago at $240,000. In 1930 Miss Morgan learned to make pewter plates and acquired a set of molds. Next she exhibited these mountain products at the Chicago World's Fair in 1933 and 1934. Here were sold all of the craft products that had accumulated during the depression years. The school course now includes weaving, ceramics, metal work, enameling, woodworking, and design. Students have come to Penland from every state in the Union and from sixty foreign countries. In Tryon the Mountain Industries operated by Mrs. George Stone, the "little lady of mountain industries," produce beautiful rugs, splint baskets, chairs, porch furniture, and homespun textiles. Mrs. Stone rendered a valuable service in creating a demand for the products of the crude looms and tools of mountain craftsmen. George Stone is manager of the Appalachian Hand Weavers. In I 9 I 5 Miss Eleanor Vance and Miss Charlotte Yale left Biltmore to start the Toy House in Tryon. They trained boys and girls to make toys from native wood: turning, carving, and painting them by hand. Miniature soldiers, animals, and groups were among their products. The Blue Ridge Weavers Shop was started by Mr. and Mrs. George Cathey. A hand weavers' shop sells the popular homespuns woven in Tryon. Another interesting handicraft industry was the Spinning Wheel founded by Miss Clementine Douglas, a native of Florida and a graduate of Pratt Institute in New York. Miss Douglas had taught in Wellesley, Massachusetts, in New York City, and for three summers had worked at a settlement school in Harlan County, Kentucky. In 1927 she came to Saluda, then to Asheville and set up at Beaver Lake a weaving industry which was appropriately named the Spinning Wheel. Work was done in �190 J Part II: A Changing Society The insignia of the Southern Highland Handicraft Guild The old draft of the "Lover's Knot" pattern discovered by John Goodwin. H ere it is called" Summer and Winter." This kind of draft, preserved in a f ew family archives has made possible the recreation of old w eaving patterns. Draft for Lover's Knot Coverlet ( Instructions to the weaver) "The two forward Shafts carries half the yarn, to put in your binding thread you mustt tread the two forward shafts, and the fourth back ones, and the blue to be put in by the draft it ought to be slaid low hang your treaddles, one after the other beginning with the forward shaft and wright hand treaddles." �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / The Lover's Knot, that has been traced to Scotland in the 1750's, is john Goodwin's most popular pattern 191 �192 / Part II: A Changing Society her loom room and in homes in the area. She visited the homes, superivising the work, taking materials and picking up finished pieces, and encouraging the weavers. She purchased an old log cabin in the Reems Creek community, had it moved, and made an attractive place for a salesroom. Subsequently she moved the Spinning Wheel industry to the Hendersonville Road a few miles south of Asheville, where a log house was used for Miss Douglas' home and attached salesroom. Later she sold the industry, and the new owners discontinued the weaving and ran the Spinning Wheel as a sales center for handicrafts. Today handcrafted articles from Western North Carolina are nationally known and handicrafts are flourishing. Penland, the John C. Campbell Folk School, and the Crossnore School still teach weaving. The fame of the Penland School is worldwide. Visitors come from many states and countries and all are inspired by the excellence, the variety, and the creativity of the craftsmen. Particularly noteworthy has been the woodcarving at the John C. Campbell Folk School. Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Muriel Martin, director of handicrafts for twenty-five years, taught those in the neighborhood and at the school to "whittle with a purpose": to carve crowing roosters, laughing mules, flying birds, soaring angels, a four-foot high St. Francis, and the figures for Christmas creches. Penland and the John C. Campbell Folk School are production centers as well as schools. They offer short courses in crafts as well as year-round craft programs. In 1928 Mrs. John C. Campbell took the lead in organizing the Southern Highlands Handicraft Guild. More than twenty mountain schools and community centers interested in crafts were included among the charter members. This guild established standards for handicrafts and markets the products in selected craft centers. The V anderbilts are gone, but the Biltmore Homespun shops continue to weave beautiful fabrics for men's and women's suits. The Valhalla Weavers of Tryon weave cloth for suits and for neckties. At Penland Ronald Cruikshank directs the weaving of tapestries, knee blankets, and baby blankets. Among the outstanding and successful craftsmen of Western North Carolina are the Goodwin Guild Weavers. For six generations members of the family have been weavers of hand crafted �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 193 designs and materials. In 1951 Mr. John 0. Goodwin, the head of the family, moved from Virginia to Blowing Rock. Mr. Goodwin has done field work in collecting 527 different handloom drafts since 1907. He sets up the looms to weave these designs that have been popular throughout American history and that are still prized by interior decorators. The looms are power operated, but skilled craftsmen are required to use the techniques of the operators of hand looms. Much of the weaving is done by hand and the weavers have to have hand loom weaving skill in order to maintain high quality and authenticity. Four hours are required to make a single-weave coverlet. The most popular product is a double-woven design, "Lover's Knot," which takes sixteen hours to weave. Mr. Goodwin copied the pattern and created his own "draft" before he became the possessor of a "draft" on yellowed paper that was over one hundred years old. Other creations are shawls, afghans, place mats, table cloths, and drapery materials. These are sold nationally and are cited by American Heritage for their authenticity. Under the North Carolina Fund for Watauga, Avery, Mitchell, and Yancey counties a program has been organized to encourage craftsmen of all four counties to make handcrafted products: toys, dolls, wood carvings, quilts, coverlets, furniture, wrought iron, and hand woven articles. The products of these craftsmen are ingenious and often beautiful. One of their most famous products is the Bader-Hofecker grandfather clock. Made of Honduran mohagany, it is lavishly inlaid. Both Glen Hofecker and William Bader are distinguished artists in wood. The Blue Ridge Hearthside Crafts Association, a cooperative, was organized to sell the products. It purchased two prestige shops, and operates as Creative Crafts. Special orders come to the various agencies for materials for historical restorations such as that of the Vance birthplace. Homespun and woven curtains were needed. There were draftsmen who could produce them - replicas of those in use I 50 years ago. President and Mrs. Woodrow Wilson had spent their honeymoon at Arden, North Carolina. They became interested in mountain folk - in their welfare and in their crafts. In 1913 Mrs. Wilson ordered coverlet fabrics for the Mountain Room in the White House, which she was redecorating. Mrs. Elmeda Walker, who lived near Marshall, was chosen to weave the fabrics. �194 / Part II: A Changing Society Independence Hall in Philadelphia was being restored, and a request came to Penland School to weave many yards of green baize material for covering fifteen tables. The material requested was green homespun dyed with vegetable dyes. Since Penland did not have the equipment to produce material in such a quantity, Mrs. John Littlewood of Ashe County dyed and carded the wool. It was necessary that the cloth be forty-five inches wide. The Penland looms were made for thirty-six inch cloth. Therefore the Macomber Company in Massachusetts built a loom for forty-five inch material. Colonel John Fishback, Penland weaver, then wove the cloth on the wide loom. Mr. �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 195 The Woodrow Wilson honeymoon cottage at Arden ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. John Mulcahy, specialist in charge of the restoration of Independence Hall, praised the material as being a true reproduction of that used when the Declaration of Independence was signed. The making of hooked and braided rugs is another profitable mountain craft. The rugs are made in the homes of individuals and groups and also in the handicraft centers like that in Boone. Rugs are often braided from loopers, by-products bought at the hosiery mills. Hooked rugs are made at Crossnore and by the Valhalla Weavers in Tryon. Block prints, silk screens, handknitted, hand-crocheted, and hand-fringed artifacts are made in many mountain homes. Richard Chase, the famous folklorist, collector of folk ballads and tales, author of the Grandfather Tales and the Jack Tales, rendered an invaluable service to the mountain folk of Watauga County. He taught them folk songs, folk dances, folk tales. Also he induced them to make folk toys and handcrafted articles. The money earned by Beech Creek folk for these toys and creations enabled many Watauga County people to lead richer, more creative lives and to enjoy greater economic well-being. Richard Chase has left the mountains but Jack Guy has taken the lead in continuing his work. There are mare than two hundred small woodworking shops in Western North Carolina and in East Tennessee. In �196 / Part II: A Changing Society Richard Chase, story teller ,folk singer, author, plays a fretless banjo ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO Wood carvers illustrate their work at the Asheville Crafts Fair ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 197 1961 they were organized into the Appalachian Woodworkers. They make chairs, desks, bookcases, clocks, bedsteads, tables, bowls, rolling pins, candleholders, and whittled or carved items. Ed Purdom of Macon County and B. H. Moody of Blowing Rock made all kinds of furniture and refinished wood furniture. They designed and made pieces to the customers' demands. They also made items that they believed would challenge their creative talents. Ralph Smith of Bryson City makes pleasing coffee tables. The Woody family near Spruce Pine have made chairs for I 50 years. They specialize in ladderback chairs. S. P. Mace of Mars Hill and John Barnes ofFranklin also make ladder-back and other types of chairs. A retired Baptist minister of Spruce Pine, H. M. Stroup, makes the cabinets for traditional grandfather and grandmother clocks of cherry, walnut, or mahogany. He imports the works from Germany. Many craftsmen specialize in making doll furniture. The miniature pieces are exquisite in both design and workmanship. John Councill has a woodworking shop at Sands near Boone. His craftsmen make small wooden items. Bowls, lamp bases, book ends, gavels are turned out on many a mountain lathe. Fruit such as grapes, apples, bananas are carved from poplar, pine, apple, buckeye, cherry, walnut, and birch - all native woods. Many carvers specialize in carving one item: a pig, a duck, a squirrel. Dulcimers, violins, banjos, guitars are still made by mountain craftsmen. Famous makers of dulcimers are Ed Presnell and the late Frank Proffitt. Odd S. White of Asheville has made violins for many years. When the village blacksmiths were no longer needed to make guns, tires, axles, hubs for wagons, most of them sought other occupations. In very few towns can one now find a blacksmith shop. In many a town, however, there is a machine shop like Gunter's in Spruce Pine. These machine shops can make or repair almost anything made of metal. Other smiths or families in which there have been smiths began to forge wrought iron objects like those used by the pioneers. Pewter pieces, plates, bowls, trays, candlesticks are made at Penland and by Dr. and Mrs. Ralph Morgan of Dillsboro. A number of artisans do beautiful work with copper and brass. Enameling is an antique art, and the products are popular. The enamel is applied to a copper base. The copper is worked into the desired shape, then finely powdered glass is sprinkled �198 / Part II: A Changing Society on the piece, after which it is fired in an electric kiln at I 500 degrees fahrenheit. Mrs. Joe Godfrey of Hildebran, who learned the art at Penland, is one of the gifted enamelists in Western North Carolina. Many of the mountain craftsmen make jewelry of silver, copper, wood, ceramics. Often these jewelers or gemologists work with the semi-precious stones that are found in the mountains. They cut and polish the stones and design gold, silver, copper settings for them. Stuart Nye of Asheville became famous for designing and making silver and copper jewelry in a dogwood pattern. He designed the first piece in 1933. Now the craftsmen in the industry he started continue to use this design and other flower shapes in metal. Pottery making is one of the oldest crafts known to man. Pots, pitchers, plates, dishes have been useful, well-nigh essential to man from the beginning of time. Quite early man learned to work with damp clay. Eventually he learned to shape it on a potter's wheel and harden it by heating, ultimately baking it in kilns. Fine clay from Macon County was ship,O~d to Josiah Wedgewood in England in 1767. The Penland Pottery existed in Buncombe County near Candler from 1831 until 1952. The Pisgah Forest Pottery near the old Penland Pottery makes pitchers, mugs and other pieces, specializing in a "cameo" design that looks somewhat like Wedgewood pottery. It was founded about 1900 by W. B. Stephen and his mother. Today it is operated by J. T. Case, the grandson of the founder, and by G. C. Ledbetter. The beautiful coloring, the delicate glazing, the decorating are all done by hand. Wood from the native forests is used for all the firing. Another highly successful pottery is that of Davis P. Brown, called the Brown Pottery, at Arden. Since long before the advent of the white man, the Cherokees have made pottery. They make and sell many kinds of dishes, pots, pitchers, vases that they have made. Lynn Gault is a noted potter of Brasstown. He and eleven other artists have banded together and commercially market their products in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Just a few miles from the North Carolina line at Laurel Bloomery in Tennessee is the Iron Mountain Pottery. This is highly successful and its products are prized by those who buy them. The industry has provided much needed employment to people of the area. Dolls have always been popular and doll makers in the mountains are often artistic. Mrs. Orus Sutton of Boone makes dolls �From the Heart, the Hand, and the Head / 199 Indian potters at Oconalujtee Village ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO Note the variety of shapes achieved by gifted mountain potters ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO �200 / Part II: A Changing Society to resemble their little girl owners. Many mountain craftsmen make dolls of corn shucks to represent the mountaineers as caricatured in fiction: long, lean, emaciated. Others make dolls with bodies of stuffed cloth, and heads and feet of dried apples. A lovely doll fourteen inches high and called the Mary Crossnore doll for Dr. Mary Martin Sloop is made by Miss Marian Brown of Crossnore. These dolls are exquisitely dressed and wear shoes made from kid gloves. A number of different kinds of hearth brooms are made and sold at various gift shops in the mountains. Other mountaineers make leather belts, purses, moccasins. Quite popular and widely sold all over the mountains at gift shops and fruit stands are wild fruit delicacies: jars of jellies, jams made of wild strawberries, raspberries, crabapples, wild grapes, and a conserve from pumpkin. The value of handicraft products made in North Carolina annually is over a million dollars. Above and beyond the money, the creation of these handcrafted articles gives unmeasurable joy and satisfaction, for who does not enjoy making things that are beautiful that he and others can enjoy? �CHAPTER TEN Literature Until shortly before the Civil War the literature about Western North Carolina was not different from that of the frontier. About I 8 58 there began the discovery of the region; and Western North Carolina became a rich field for journalists, writers of local color, folklorists, fictionists. These writers began to exploit the peculiar language, customs, manners, and humor of the mountain people. Visitors were impressed by the contrasts with low-country life and manners. Writers and tourists spread superficial accounts of mountain life. People seeing a run-down mountain cabin still say, "Look, there's a typical mountain home." By far the majority of the mountain people, however, live in comfortable homes. The minority live in shacks and suffer from penury and lack of opportunity. What is the hope for the "poor mountaineers"? Some advocates urge that the younger people leave the mountains and seek jobs in industrial plants in the lowlands. If so, they may well become badly adjusted slum dwellers and renters, and will often be recipients of welfare aid. Others advocate that industry be brought to the mountains so that hill people can live on their own land, drive into a neighboring town, work in a local factory, and operate their farms after working hours. This crisis of the spirit for the mountaineer in the face of the modern world has been largely neglected by the literature of the region to the present day. Our local literature, the subject of this chapter, is largely concerned with the past and the picturesque, with some mixture of the grotesque. Some of the best is strictly personal. 201 �202 / Part II: A Changing Society It is illuminating to consider the mountaineer as he has been treated by writers of fiction. Notable authors have written about Western North Carolina and mountain life, and foremost among them is Thomas Wolfe. Wolfe was both a Western North Carolina writer and a writer about his region. No one has written more graphically and more intimately about his land and his people, and no writer from North Carolina has ever achieved the fame and the respect accorded to Wolfe. Born October 3, 1900, he ever afterwards celebrated the beauty of October in "Old Catawba." His father, William Oliver Wolfe, was originally a Pennsylvanian, but his mother, Julia Westall Wolfe, was a mountaineer of mountaineers. She was related to the Westall, Penland, and Patton families whose members lived all over the mountains. Wolfe had an abnormally prolonged infantile relationship dominated by his mother. He was not weaned until he was almost four, and he had beautiful curls to his shoulder. His mother would not let them be cut until he was nine. In addition to being overly protective, she must have had an almost "insane nigardliness" and an insatiate love of property. Her stinginess warped the social attitudes of the sensitive boy. He was selfconscious also about the lower middle class status of his family. He lived with his mother at the Old Kentucky Home boarding house at 48 Spruce Street. His father, a stonecutter, lived in another house. W. 0. Wolfe had his faults, but he was a man with gargantuan appetites and a generous soul. There must have been a great contrast between the parsimony of Mrs. Wolfe and the open-handedness ofher husband. This dichotomy in the family possibly caused Tom to begin his search for a spiritual father whom he found in Maxwell Perkins. Tom's best writing is about Asheville and its people. They are seen through the tortured eyes of a sensitive boy. Wolfe's major works are Look Homeward, Angel (1929), Of Time and The River (1935), From Death to Morning (1935), The Story of a Novel (1936), The Web and the Rock (1939), You Can't Go Home Again (1940), and The Hills Beyond (1941). Only a part of Wolfe's work is about the mountains and his people, but he has given the most graphic account extant of family life and relationships among Asheville people. In Look Homeward, Angel and The Web and the Rock he described his boyhood, but perhaps the most complete account of mountain life appears in the fragment of a novel, The Hills Beyond, that �Literature / 203 "My Old Kentucky Home," where Thomas Wolfe lived ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO w as to be a history of North Carolina and of his family. The family is fictional, of course, but it resembles a mountain family . The narrative stops in 188o, twenty years before Wolfe's birth. He was revolted by the bleakness of his environment, and he was enthralled by trains because the sound of a train whistle w as a symbol of escape. H e had contempt for his mother's people, the m ountaineers, because they were the familiar and the known, but h e sympathized with their loneliness, the barrenness of their lives, and like them, he saw both the loneliness and the grandeur of mountain life, its beauty and its sordidness. His writings about the hillmen contain both ro mance and realism. H e admired their courage and their independen ce, but h e lam ented the fact that they were old and w orn out by middle age by their hopeless struggle against their environment. H e objected to the romantic stories of mountain life by writers like John Fox, Jr. The great mountain b arrier that " rimmed in life" w as the determining influence upon the destiny of the people. Wolfe w as a rebel against the superstition and romanticism of the South, but he admired the people for their courage and their pro ud history. �204 / Part II: A Changing Society His descriptions of his father, his mother, his brothers and his sisters arc so real that the reader feels like one of the family sitting before the fire and hearing tales of birth, death, ghosts, superstitions, and gossip - such tales as epitomize the literature and history of the mountain people. To Wolfe the mountain man was racially pure, clannish, isolated, a hard drinker, quick to fight, prone to violence, cruel, eager to engage in lawsuits, and a sharp, conniving trader. Wolfe remembered his mother's talk and her tales. He used with unerring skill the dialect formerly spoken by mountain people but now largely archaic. He described satirically the fundamentalism, Calvinism, puritanism, and primitive fatalism of their religion: their belief in a jealous and a wrathful God, in Hell-fire and damnation. They believed also that fiddle music and dancing were sinful. They had a false morality. A woman made her relatives swear not to let the undertaker see her unclothed; another said she would rather see her daughter dead than married to a drunkard. Divorced women were virtually outcasts. Wolfe believed that hill people should not become outmigrants, that those who left the hills were destroyed by the degeneracy, the immorality, the prostitution, and the poverty of life in the slums of cities. Not only were they exploited but they lost the freedom and the healthy amusements of the hillmen. Yet he described them unfalteringly as the "poor white litter of the hills"; as tall, gaunt, slatternly, with snuff juice rolling down their chins. They might be filthy, degraded, incestuous, infested with rickets and pellagra; but they had a pride, an independence, a virility, a zest for life. In his tales he recreated the life of a folk. Critics said that Wolfe was too verbose, too incoherent, too autobiographical, that his words burst like a pent up flood, but William Faulkner said he might have become the greatest of Southern writers. Certainly he was a man to "match the mountains," the greatest writer produced by North Carolina. He felt that literature was a transcript of life, and he sought to transcribe the life of his people: his family with their weaknesses and peculiarities, his Asheville neighbors with all their selfishness and materialism. He described the slatternly people gaping at strangers, the gaunt farmer, the dawdling Negroes, the fire and brimstone preachers, the resort-town cupidity of the citizens of Asheville, famed for its loveliness but ruined by pettiness and greed. He described the frenzy of the "boom" as a result �Literature / 205 of which everyone was going to get rich. But alas after the "boom" there was the "bust" and a desert of frustrated hopes and ambitions. He lamented the commercialization, the unsightly billboards, the fencing in of natural attractions, the cheap tourist honky-tonks, the bank president who became a convict, the mayor who misused city funds and committed suicide. Wolfe was called a "Judas Iscariot, a Benedict Arnold, ... Caesar's Brutus, the bird that fouls its own nest, ... a viper that an innocent populace had nurtured, ... an unnatural ghoul to whom nothing is sacred, not even the tombs of the honored dead, ... a vulture, ... a jackass, ... a baboon." Yet Thomas Wolfe did return to Asheville seven years after the publication of Look Homeward, Angel, and he was welcomed with adulation. Today when his name is mentioned in Asheville, faces become rapt, eyes glow, shoulders straighten, for Thomas Wolfe was one of their own. The most distinguished figure ever to come out of Western North Carolina was Zebulon Baird Vance- governor, senator, fabulist. Thomas Wolfe created a character and family remarkably similar to Vance and his family. This character was Zachariah Joyner. Wolfe gave a realistic, tongue-in-cheek account of the settlement of the West and the political conflict between the East and the West. Old Catawba was of course North Carolina. The Hills Beyond is a fictional-historical analogy. Wolfe satirized the selfish control of state appropriations by the East, its claim to superiority on the grounds of birth, breeding, family, and its descent from the "lost colonists," pointing out that the state was more distinguished for its homespun quality than for its aristocratic ancestry. Zachariah Joyner, a country lawyer from the West, was elected governor in 1858. He attacked the "humbug aristocracy" of the East, asserting that most early settlers had come to eastern North Carolina because the English jails were full and to keep from being hanged. Wolfe asserted that under Joyner (Vance) the "representatives of privilege" had to bow before the rights of humanity, that they should stop thinking about where they came from and think about where they were going. He described the Joyner family, their ancestry, the patriarchal Bear Joyner, quoting myths, legends, stories about "Bear" and Zach. These anecdotes are typical of mountain humor that Wolfe learned in his youth. Many of them are in the folklore about Vance. Wolfe said that to the hillmen Joyner (Vance) was not only their Lincoln but their Paul Bunyan and �206 / Part II: A Changing Society Davy Crockett in one. He was a "living prophecy of all that they might wish to be," of what they might become. Wolfe satirized the mountain attitude toward liquor - that none was bad, that some was just better- and also the fundamentalist attitude that "gettin' drunk" was a cardinal sin- worse than murder. Bear Joyner said that one man had killed another. Zach was relieved; he had believed that the man had done something really bad like "gettin' drunk." He took a dig at mountain honesty and morality when Bear asked young Zach if he had watered the milk, sanded the sugar, fixed the scales. When Zach answered in the affirmative, his father said that they would then have family prayers. Speaking through Joyner, Wolfe wrote with great indignation of the desecration of the mountains by lumbermen, saying that "some vast destructive 'suck' ... some compulsive greed had been at work: the whole region had been sucked and gutted ... denuded of its primeval treasures." Then he showed his resentment of the disparaging treatment of the mountain people by "exultant Ph.D.'s," tourists, "consecrated school marms from the North," social service workers. He did not feel that the hill people should be subjected to the condescending efforts of uplifters and dogooders. Wolfe criticized lawyers and the law. Bear Joyner said that he would make a lawyer out of his son because he wouldn't work. Wolfe asserted that the lawyers and the courts were not used to uphold the law but to subvert it for "personal advantage and private profit." This is perhaps a nearly justified criticism of our legal system. Equally he despised the materialism of business men who devoted their lives to the pursuit of the almighty dollar and who objected to spending money for education because of resultant higher taxes. Wolfe admired the courage of mountain people but he felt that the veneration of the Civil War was useless and excessive. Finally in "the Battle of Hogwart Heights" he made fun of aristocratic pretensions. The Hills Beyond reveals Wolfe's great gifts as a satirist and a mountain humorist. There is much travel literature about Western North Carolina. Colonel William Byrd in 1728 described the beauty of the mountains. Colonel Henry Timberlake wrote his memoirs �Literature / 207 in 1765; William Bartram (1773), Andre Michaux (1792), and the Reverend Francis Asbury (1821) gave detailed accounts of their travels. James K. Paulding wrote Letters from the South (1817); J. W. McClung, Sketches of Western Adventure (1832), Joseph Pratt, Incidents of Border Life (1839). ]. G. M. Ramsey in his Annals of Tennessee (1853) wrote also of Western North Carolina. William Gilmore Simms, the famous South Carolina historical novelist, set parts of three books in Western North Carolina locales. James Weir's novels are also set in this region. Robert Strange in Eoneguski (1 839) wrote a novel of the Cherokees. This was the first novel written by a North Carolinian with scenes within the state. He felt that the history, customs, people of North Carolina could provide scenes and episodes, exciting, interesting, and suitable for fiction. This novel deals with the crossing of the mountains, the conflict with the Cherokees, and Andrew Jackson's fight with the Creeks. Calvin H. Wiley, first state superintendent of schools, planned three novels: Alamance, about the Regulation; Roanoke, about Eastern North Carolina; and Buncombe, about Western North Carolina, and he compiled a series of North Carolina Readers which were used in the state. Other early writers about Western North Carolina were Frances Hodgson Burnett with her Esmeralda and Lodusky; Constance Fenimore Woolson with her Up in the Blue Ridge and For the Mayor; and Mary Greenway McClelland, author of Oblivion. John Cairns, Jr., son of the proprietor of the Reems Creek Woolen Mills, was one of the nation's most eminent ornithologists. His articles were published in the best known scientific journals of the nineteenth century. The Fisher River Sketches of Harden E. Taliaferro preserve the way of life and the dialect used by the first settlers of Surry County and their descendants. These stories were enacted and told in the 182o's, written down in 1859. The "musters" were among the interesting occurrences described. Musters were semiannual, in May and November, and the old "Revolutionaries" were present: the "capting," "leftenant," "sarjent," and all the "ossifers." "They knowed a thing or two about military tacktucks." At the musters there was always plenty of "knockem- stiff" whiskey. On one occasion Hamp Hudson was supposed to supply the refreshments, but while he was distilling the brew �208 / Part II: A Changing Society his dog Famus fell into the mash tub and was distilled. When Hamp reported this to the musterers their faces fell, but after drilling they became so thirsty that they drank all of Hamp's "knock-em-stiff' - Famus or no Famus. Taliaferro described the picturesque dresss: the rawhide, stitched-down shoes, a "Iinsey" tow and cotton shirt to the knees, the dressed buckskin pants. People walked to meetin'; courtin' boys and girls would walk side by side, the girls carrying their shoes in a "redicule" until they got in sight of the meetin' house. The boys were barefoot. The young folks got together for grubbings, log-rollings, reapings, corn-huskings, wheat-threshings. The girls would have sewings and quiltings. On these occasions as soon as the work was done, the fiddle sounded and they danced and courted all night. For one young man to get the better of another in "sparkin'" was considered legitimate and was called "cuttin' out." Dick Snow wouldn't give up his courting Sally Tucker and said, "I never gins up a thing as long as there's a pea in the gourd." Sally's folks were "Methodises" and kept "arter" him to "git ligion." At the quarterly meeting he determined to "make his jack" and he went up with the mourners. The "circus rider" prayed over him "like he was beatin' tanbark off 'un trees in the daid of winter." Dick tried gettin' ligion a whole week, but then he backslid. Mountain youth married young. They married first and "scuffed for their fortuns" later. Fighting was a common occurrence. They "knocked with their fists, butted, gouged, kicked with their feet." Bullies kept their thumbnails long to "feel a fellow's eyestrings .... " In similar vein Taliferro described many customs of the frontier society. Rebecca Harding Davis gave personal and intimate descriptions of mountain life as she saw it in the late 187o's. She described Morganton as "caught on the shelving side of a hill." She traveled on the Western North Carolina Railroad from Morganton to the end of the completed line "in a chasm between two precipices." Later in 1 88o this railroad reached Asheville. At the end of the line there was a rough, temporary hotel where her party spent the night. She wrote: " ... the gorge swarmed with hundreds of wretched blacks in the striped yellow convict �Literature / 209 garb. After their supper was cooked (over campfires) and eaten, they were driven into a row of prison cars, where they were tightly boxed for the night, with no possible chance to obtain either air or light." The convicts lived in the most squalid condition, their labor was Herculean, and hundreds of them died that the railroad might be built and a gateway opened to the west. Mrs. Davis and her party spent the next night at Alexander's, twelve miles from Asheville. Alexander's was a noted stage stop. Mr. Alexander, "like all other farmers in the mountains 'took in' travelers, gave them an excellent supper and comfortable beds and sent them on the next day with a team of mules and a shackly old cart up the steep trail to the house of the guide, William Glass." They were on their way to ascend Mount Mitchell. Later they visited Waynesville, of which she wrote that they " ... found many such picturesque little villages as this hidden in these interminable ranges, perched on sunny peaks above the clouds, or nestling in gorges. . . . Half of their unpainted, weather-beaten houses are always empty, the inmates having apparently died, or gone farther into these sleepy wildernesses and then forgotten to come back .... There are always one or two families of educated, well-bred people. They have little money, but they feel the need of it less here than anywhere else in the States. They live in roomy wooden houses, the walls, ceilings, and floors frequently made of purplish fine-grained poplar; which no Persian carpet or tapestry could rival in beauty; they have no new books but they have read the old ones until they are live friends ... ; they dress in homespun, and sit on wooden benches, but knowing nothing of fashions or bric-a-brac their souls sit at ease and are quiet, and they never feel the void of an empty pocket." As Mrs. Davis's party approached Qualla their road "had been a cartway roughly cut along the sides of the mountains for about fifteen miles along the Tuckaseigee River, but the spring torrents year after year had washed it away, and neither white man nor Indian had ever laid a log to repair it." It was then called a bridle-road, and from the description one can see the need for roads in Western North Carolina: "[The] 'Nation' (the Cherokees) was hidden in isolated huts in the thickets among the ravines of the Soco and Oconoluftee hills. The 1500 Cherokees had ro,ooo acres under cultivation, no village, no school, no gathering place of any kind. Grass knee deep before the door of the little church. They were wretchedly poor. Only in 1875 were they given possession of �210 / Part II: A Changing Society the land on which they had lived for more than 500 years. After the party left the Indians, they came to a cabin: " ... built on the slope of the little river. It was a sample of the better class of mountain huts. The log walls gaped open in many places. Inside, they were pasted over with newspapers, the ceiling hung with hanks of blue yarn, red peppers, bunches of herbs, and Indian baskets filled with the family clothing. The hut was divided by an open passage into chamber and kitchen. One side of the latter was given up to a roaring fire of logs." Mrs. Davis quoted the woman of the house: " ... it's two months since I've seen the face of women, white or red. That's what ails the mountingsthe awful loneliness. Whar I was brought up, five miles from hyar, it would be a year that we'd not see a living face. But times is mendin' now. They hev Sunday school an' pra'r some'ars every two months. Us folks goes twenty miles to 'em. Go in the mornin', an' stay all day. Exercises lasts till noon; then we have dinner, an' in the afternoon we can see each other, and hear the news. Last pra'r was powerful big; they was nigh onto twenty folks thar." Mrs. Polly (their hostess) told them of conditions in the mountains. The people were pitifully poor and ignorant. There were some men of seventy who had never seen a wheeled vehicle. Mrs. Davis summed up conditions thus: "Near the Tennessee line their huts are often merely sheds. They cook in a pot, and sitting around it, eat out of it with wooden spoons. At night a couple of boards are lifted in the floor, and disclose a hollow in the earth beneath filled with straw, in which the whole family kennel together. In the morning the boards are replaced, and all cares of housekeeping are over . . . They are hospitable, honest, and, in their ignorant way, God-fearing. Their sole recreation is goin' to preachin' or pra'r two or three times a year when some itinerant missionary penetrates the mountains. Nothing could be falser than the sketches which have been given of them that confound these uncouth but decent people with the Pikes or swaggering ruffians of the West." Sidney Lanier, esteemed Southern poet, musician, writer of prose, stayed at Richmond Hill near Asheville, visited at Rugby Grange, Henderson County, the home of George Gustav Westfeldt, and spent his last days in the Wilcox house at Lynn, near Tryon, where he died of tuberculosis in I 881. There are �Literature f 2II memorials to him in Tryon and at Calvary Episcopal Church in Fletcher. His last poem, "Sunrise," was written in Lynn and dedicated to Westfeldt. Vivian Yeiser Laramore, poet laureate of Florida, spent many summers in Western North Carolina and wrote the "Ballad of the Silver Flute," praising Lanier as the "great poet of the South enriching the folklore of his land." Azure-Lure- a Romance of the Mountains, was a souvenier of Asheville and Western North Carolina edited by Idyl Dial Gray. In it one finds this excellent travel-poster description of the region: "In Asheville an azure sky and a brilliant horizon meet. Nature's artistry presents sparkling waterfalls, precipitous cliffsides, the colors of thousands of flowers, singing rivers, limpid lakes, bottomless pools, cloud-banked mountain-rimmed peaks and the bluest skies under heaven in this land of perpetual vacation.'' 0. Henry (William Sydney Porter) is associated with Asheville and Weaverville. He married Sara Coleman from Weaverville, an author, and he spent the winter of I909 in the home of Mrs. Porter's brother, John S. Coleman. He died in Asheville June IO, I9IO. Mrs. Frances Fisher Tiernan (Christian Reid) the popular novelist, wrote a book about Western North Carolina which she called The Land of the Sky. In this book she described the lovely mountains, the blueness of the skies, the beautiful, fertile valleys, the glorious sunlight, the cloud-shadowed ranges of mountains which reached the sky. As a result of her book the whole region has been aptly named "the Land of the Sky." Shepherd Dugger wrote War Trails of the Blue Ridge and The Balsam Groves of Grandfather Mountain. In the introduction to the latter he included a poem "The Land of the Sky" : Will you come to Grandfather, "The Land of the Sky," Where a banquet of glory is spread for the eye ... Where the mountains do rear their summits above The storm and the cloud to the regions of love.... Y e ones that are feeble, why linger and die, Come up to the beautiful "Land of the Sky .... " In I904 Horace Kephart came to Hazel Creek to write of the Southern highlands. He had been able to find little written about them, although he probably knew the novels of Charles Egbert Craddock, pen name for Mary Noailles Murphree, and those -of Constance Fenimore W oolsen. He became the Dean �212 / Part II: A Changing Society Illustration from "Christian Reid's" Land of the Sky, the book that gave the name to the mountain area of American Campers and wrote The Book of Camping and Woodcraft, which had its twentieth printing in 1960. He wrote for Adventure Magazine, Field and Stream, Sports Afield, Outing, and the Asheville Citizen. In 1913 Kephart's Our Southern Highlanders was published. T en thousand copies were sold of the first edition; in 1957 the seventh edition was published. The book contains authentic portraits of mountain life. Kephart described real mountain people, not caricatures; he wrote down the language and expressions really used by the people. In Bryson City on the old Bryson place there is a marker: "On this spot Horace Kephart, D ean of American Campers and one of the principal founders of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park pitched his last permanent camp. Erected May 30, 193 I , by Horace Kephart Troop, Boy Scouts of America, Bryson City, North Carolina." The tribute w as justified because Kephart had fought valiantly for conservation, writing article after article urging the preservation of the forests. He wrote: "When I first came into the Smokies, the whole region was one superb forest primeval. ... My sylvan studio spread over mountain after mountain ... and it was always clean and fragrant, always vital, growing new shapes of beauty from day to day. The vast trees met overhead like cathedral roofs.... Not long ago I w ent to the same place again. It w as wrecked , ruined, desecrated, turned into a thousand �Literature / 2I3 rubbish heaps, utterly vile and mean. Did anyone ever thank God for a lumberman's slashing?" There was an editorial in the Asheville Times: "His eloquent appeal should be the textbook of those who are interested in securing a national park for this mountain empire." John C. Campbell's The Southern Highlander and His Homeland (1921), published two years after his death by the Russell Sage Foundation, was prepared for publication by his wife, Mrs. Olive Dame Campbell. This book aroused national interest in the problems existing in the Southern mountains. Wilma Dykeman Stokely, born in Asheville in May 1920, is descended from old New York and North Carolina families. Bernadette Hoyle wrote in Tar Heel Writers I Know: "Being from the Middle South and the author of non-fictional studies of the region, she is thoroughly at home with both her setting and her characters" in The French Broad. Her novels are The Tall Woman, Look to this Day, and The Far Family. With James Stokely she wrote Neither Black nor White. The Tall Woman tells the story of the Southern mountain people. "It is neither quaint nor satiric, but it deals seriously with a community caught in eternal change and post-Civil War problems." Lydia McQueen is the tall woman. She was tall, not so much in stature as in character and influence. "The writing is skillful, and the lilt of the mountain speech of the time is musical to read." The novel is rich in detail and in atmosphere and at times has the flavor of some of the old ballads. Its theme is the erosion of both land and character by greed. The characters emerge "breathing, talking, living." The French Broad is a book that moves like a river. "It has the continuous, ceaseless, smooth-flowing style that moves relentlessly toward the sounding sea." Wilma Dykeman's Prophet of Plenty is a biography of Dr. Willis Weatherford. A fund-raiser extraordinary, he brought the nation's conscience to bear on the problems of the mountain people. In 1900 he was one of the few prophets of a new and hopeful South, which was "bogged down in poverty, dominated by Northern capital, suffering under discriminatory freight rates, plagued by demagogues, and fighting for its life after Reconstruction. There was one hope- education, education for leadership, for jobs, for citizenship." Weatherford gave inspiration and hope to Southern youth. He told them that �214 / Part II: A Changing Society regional competance depended upon industrial competence, that the human resources were the heart of the region's hopes. Weatherford built the Blue Ridge Assembly near Black Mountain and brought in brilliant leaders to meet the many eager young students. He became a leader of a region which had been bypassed by American life. His work, his faith, his ideas caught the imagination of governmental leaders and philanthropists and made those in state and nation see that this land of poverty could become a land of opportunity. His message to those in the mountains was to look to the young people, give them quality education and the region would grow great. He was a champion of all races, and he pioneered in the formation of the Commission on Interracial Cooperation. For decades he was a leader on this commission and did much for race relations in the South. He obtained the money, selected the staff, and took the lead in gathering information for and publishing The Southern Appalachian Region: A Survey (r962), financed by the Ford Foundation. This survey revealed conditions in the mountains and made recommendations for their amelioration. John Ehle, author of seven novels and three books of nonfiction by the time of this writing, winner of the Sir Walter A ward and the Mayflower Cup, is one of the ablest portrayers of mountain life and character. The Landbreakers (r964) was quite popular. The Road (r967) created a sensation and was included in Reader's Digest Condensed Books. The Road is almost a mountain epic. It tells the story of the struggle, the drama, the conflict, the almost superhuman efforts required to build the Western North Carolina Railroad from Old Fort to Asheville. The tribute to the convicts is deserved. Most exciting was the pulling of the engine over the mountain so that the 2,ooo-foot tunnel could be attacked from both ends. The completion of this link of the railroad was of vital importance to all in Western North Carolina. Fred Chappell wrote two novels, It Is Time, Lord and The Inkling. He described Canton, called it Withers, and the Champion Paper and Fiber Company he called the Defender Paper and Fiber Company. He says the stench of the paper mill can be smelled for miles. He asks, "What would the town do without the paper company?" and answers with "What is it doing with it?" His "Prodigious Words" appeared in Southern Writing in the Sixties. John Yount, born in Boone, wrote a novel, Wolf at the Door. A selection, "The Store," appeared in Southern Writing in the Sixties. It contains a good description of a boy �Literature / 215 going to a country store and peering at the candy through the greasy, flyspecked glass. "These are my mountains," said John Parris, who through Roaming the Mountains and My Mountaineers, My People showed his love for and appreciation of the people of Western North Carolina. He continues: "If you are born in the mountains, you can't put them out of your heart and soul. There is a peace and quiet that makes you feel closer to God .... " Parris was born in Sylva, November 23, 1914. He became a successful newspaper man and a notable author. Nothing in the mountains is an old or jaded story to him. Roaming the Mountains (1955) originated around the firesides and homelife of his family and his neighbors. Many of his tales he learned from his grandfather William Riley Tallent, who had a great zest for life. The titles of his chapters are indigenous to mountain life: "Hot Biscuits and Sourwood Honey," "The French Broad Is a Gypsy," and "In Huckleberry Time Courtin's a Pleasure." Parris does not write in dialect but he uses idioms and descriptive terms which create a colloquial feeling such as "He's a distiller of corn' likker, and brother, hold on to your hat," "He's the overlord of a one-room log cabin with a dozen mouths to feed and a passel of hound dogs in the yard," and "In the Carolina Highlands, June is a whip-poor-will." One of the significant writers born in Western North Carolina was Rebecca Cushman. She was an editor of the Southern Review and a special contributor to the Christian Science Monitor. She wrote Swing Your Mountain Gal, Sketches of Life in the Southern Highlands in 1934. This book is not fiction; it contains a series of sketches taken from mountain life. Each short narrative is a deft character portrait of the rugged but dignified mountaineer. The book makes a real contribution in that it is a spiritual interpretation of mountain life. Her mountaineer Guy Norman is a man who leaves one with a quickened consciousness of life. He is hospitable, unaffected, natural. He says: "We live jest plain .... Life's jest the way you hold it up .... If you've done that you're all right when you come to take your pillow .... " Margaret Morley wrote the challenging The Carolina Mountains in 1913. Muriel Sheppards's Cabins in the Laurel created quite a stir when it was published in 1935, many people in Mitchell County feeling that she exaggerated conditions there. �216 f Part II: A Changing Society One of the most authentic accounts of mountain life, people, customs, and fiction appeared in the 1,500 page doctoral dissertation of Dean Cratis Williams, "The Southern Mountaineer in Fiction." Dean Williams asserted that in the decades following the Civil War the mountaineer became a caricature in fiction. He became a type- uncouth, ignorant, violent, poor, a fundamentalist, a moonshiner, but hospitable and with feudal courtesy. Stock characters in mountain fiction are the feudist, the witch crone, a jealous mountain youth, an outlaw, a benevolent but illiterate landowner, an idealistic teacher, a hardshell preacher, a demagogue, a rich, heroic outsider, a beautiful but ignorant mountain girl, the corrupt and stingy justice of the peace or sheriff. The preacher and the sheriff find the teacher and education threats to the power structure or to their personal positions. Perhaps the greatest poet of Western North Carolina has been Olive Tilford Dargan. Born in Kentucky, she moved to North Carolina in 1906. She wrote five books of poetry: Semiramis (1906), a closet drama in iambic pentameter; Pathfinder (1914), lyrics about the North Carolina mountains; The Cycle's Rim (1916), fifty-three sonnets on the death of her husband, the prize-winning book as the best book of poetry of the year by a Southern writer; Lute and Farrow (1922), lyrics of the mountains; The Spotted Hawk (1958), which won the Roanoke-Chowan poetry a ward. In addition to her poetry she wrote two volumes of short narratives: Highland Annals (1925), and From My Highest Hill (1941). Under the pen name of Fielding Burke she wrote the novels Call Home the Heart (1932) and A Stone Came Rolling (1935). In 1962 her fifteenth book, a collection of short stories, Innocent Bigamy, was published. She lived most of her life in Swain County, but in her old age she resided at the Blue Bonnet Lodge in West Asheville. She wrote chiefly of the mountains and mountain people. James Larkin Pearson was born in the Moravian Falls section of Wilkes County, September 13, 1879. His people were very poor. There were few books in the home: a cheap Bible, a small almanac, a dictionary, and an old Methodist hymnal. Off and on he would attend the one-teacher free school. He taught himself the alphabet by reading circus posters and studying Webster's blue-back spelling book. When he was four years old he began reciting poetry. One cold winter day he and his �Literature / 217 father were riding in an old wagon. The father asked if he were cold. He answered: "My fingers and my toes- my feet and my hands- are just as cold as you ever seed a man's." His first poem was "The Vision" (1895). In 1897 he composed "The Song of the Star of Bethlehem" while he was clearing new ground. This poem was printed in the New York Independent and for it he received eight dollars. He became a typesetter and the editor of several small papers. In 1910 he began to publish a humorous paper, The Fool Killer, which he built up until at one time it had a circulation of fifty thousand copies a month. Pearson was admired by Upton Sinclair, who printed one of his poems in the New York Times. Later Sinclair printed "Fifty Acres," Pearson's best known poem. In 1953 Pearson was named Poet Laureate of North Carolina. He is the author of five books of poetry printed on his own press: Castle Gates (1908), Pearson's Poems (1924), Fifty Acres (1937), Plowed Ground (1949), and Early Harvest (1952). An anthology, Selected Poems of James Larkin Pearson, was published in 1960. Pearson wrote simply of "homey" things in a deeply lyrical vein. His poetry has quaintness, local color. One can get the flavor of Pearson from the following lines: from "Fifty Acres" I've never been to London, I've never been to Rome; But on my fifty acres I travel here at home. from "Here is Wisdom" Old Andy never went to school And never read a book. But he who takes him for a fool Will need a second look.... from "A Night in June" The June-bug roosted under a leaf, And the firefly winked at the cricket The bull-frog sang from the lily-pond To the owl in the ivy thicket. There of North were by Carolina. have been a number of anthologies and collections Carolina poetry. In these anthologies many poems Western North Carolinians about Western North The first such anthology, Woodnote.1·, or Carolina �218 f Part II: A Changing Society Carols, was compiled by Tenella (Mrs. Mary Bayard Clark). In this anthology was an anonymous poem, "Swannanoa." In I 883 John Henry Boner published a selection of poetry under the title Whispering Pines. This included "Hunting Muscadines on the Y adkin" and "The Cliff' about Pilot Mountain. In I 894 Hight C. Moore published Selected Poetry of North Carolina and in 1912 E.C. Brooks an anthology, North Carolina Poems. In 1941 Richard Walser edited North Carolina Poetry and in I948 North Carolina in the Short Story, in 1953 The Enigma of Thomas Wolfe, in 1957 The Picture Book of Tar Heel Authors, in 1959 Nematodes in My Garden of Verse and in 1963 North Carolina Poets. Carl Sandburg, the poet and Lincoln biographer, bought a 240 acre farm at Flat Rock, "Connemara," the former home of Christopher Memminger, Confederate Secretary of the Treasury. Sandburg was also a folklorist and a song collector. One of the versatile men in Western North Carolina is Leroy Sossamon. He is pilot, poet, bulldozer operator, newspaper publisher, owner of furniture stores, accredited teacher, owner of a steel construction business, a theater, Ford dealer, operator of a mercy airlift and commercial planes. Having graduated from Appalachian State Teachers College cum laude in I934, he taught English and French at the Presbyterian orphanage at Barium Springs. He bought one business after another, including the Bryson City Times, which he publishes. He is connected with the Sossamon Steel Company. He wrote Backside of Heaven, a book of poetry, and sold an edition of I I ,ooo copies. Henry Alexander Sieber, born in New York in 1931, spent his boyhood in the North Carolina mountains. Influenced by Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot, his poems carry a message of hope. He assumes that man because of his religion and poetry must not be defeated by life. Two of his books are This the Marian Year (1954) and Something the West Will Remember (1956). Lovers of Thomas Wolfe like the following lines: What right have you to say That Tom Wolfe of Asheville And Brooklyn, New York Didn't talk all the time All the time with God In Asheville and Brooklyn, New York. �Literature / 219 A unique Western North Carolina poet is Jonathan Williams. Born in Asheville in 1929, he operates an apple orchard near Highlands. He is a book designer, lecturer, publisher, poet, and operator of the Jargon press. His broadsides and book titles include the following: Garbage Letters; The Iron Face of the Sun's Child (1951); Red/Gray (1952); Four Stoppages (1953); The Empire Finals at Verona (1959); AmenJHuzzaJSelah (1960); In England's Green (1962). Williams's poems are included in "beat" anthologies because they are "way out." Miscellaneous poems about Western North Carolina and by Western North Carolinians were Zebulon Baird Vance's "The Little Patched Trousers," Martin V. Moore's "The Rivers of North Carolina," Reuben]. Holmes's poem "The Valley of the Ashe," and "Tom and Mollie" by the anonymous poet laureate of Mitchell County. Struthers Burt was a novelist, but he wrote a book of poetry, In the High Hills (1914). He felt that poetry should touch the intelligent heart. Elliott Coleman came to the Asheville School in 1928. He had published two books of poetry: Poems of Elliott Coleman (1936) and An American in Augustland (1940). Among dramatists associated with Western North Carolina are the following: Hatcher Hughes, Hell Bent for Heaven, and Ruint (Pulitzer prize winner); Lula Vollmer, Sun Up; Thomas Wolfe, The Return ofBuck Gavin; George Tedd,Jr., King Cotton's Children; Hubert Hayes and John Taintor Foote, Tight Britches; Hubert Hayes, The Red Spider, Blackberry Winter, and Smoky Joe; Mrs. Bertha Herter, The Harp of a Thousand Strings; Edward Richardson, Black Mountain, a play based on the ballad "Barbara Allen"; Anne Bridgers, co-author of Coquette, who had a summer home in the Reems Creek section; Cleves Kinnard, Common Clay. Kermit Hunter wrote Unto These Hills and Horn in the West. Ellis Credle wrote Down Down the Mountains (1934). He is a writer and illustrator for children. This was the first picture book of the Blue Ridge country. Lois Lenski wrote children's books like Blue Ridge Billy, which depicts mountain life and �220 J Part II: A Changing Society customs. Mary Hancock wrote Menace on the Mountain (1968), the gripping story of a boy who becomes a man while his father is away during the Civil War. Included is a fictional account of the capture of Fort Hamby from the Bushwhackers. This book was filmed for television by Walt Disney Productions. Miss Hancock's work has appeared in The Progressive Farmer, Extension, Saturday Evening Post, Sports Illustrated, Pageant, Catholic Digest, and the VFW Magazine. Richard Chase is a distinguished writer, ballad singer, and folklorist. For years he taught songs, dances, and traditional games to mountain children. He sang and collected folklore. He wrote widely and well: Old Songs and Singing Games (1938), The Jack Tales (1943), Grandfather Tales (1948), American Folk Tales (1948), Wicked John and the Devil (195 1), and Soncf!,S As Preserved in the Appalachian Mountains (1956). Croyden Bell and Thelma Harrington Bell wrote about animals and characters from Western North Carolina: Snow (1954), John's Rattling Gourd of Big Cove (1955), The Wonders of Snow (1957). Ruth and Latrobe Carroll moved to Asheville in 1950. They wrote and illustrated fascinating books for children: Peanut (1951), Salt and Pepper (1952), Beanie (1953), Tough Enough (1954), and later, Tough Enough's Trip, Digby the Only Dog (1955). The history of Western North Carolina has been the theme of only one previous book, by John Preston Arthur (1913). He also wrote an interesting history of Watauga County. Foster Sondley wrote a two volume history of Buncombe County. Other county histories are Clark Medford's accounts of Haywood County; Sadie Smathers Patton's writings on Flat Rock and Henderson County; Clarence Griffin's books on Old Tryon County and Rutherford County; Horton Cooper's Avery County history: Margaret Freel's work on Cherokee County and Lilian Thomasson's on Swain County, Judge Johnson Hayes' The Land of Wilkes; Nancy Alexander's Here Will I Dwell (Caldwell County); T. F. Hickerson's Happy Valley and Echoes of Happy Valley, which deal with life along the Yadkin from Lenoir to Elkin; and Arthur L. Fletcher, Ashe County: a History. Histories of colleges are John McLeod's From These Stones (Mars Hill College) and William E. Bird's Western Carolina College. 0. L. Brown's Blanford Bernard Dougherty contains much of the history of Appalachian State University. Dr. Edward Phif<"'r has written scholarly articles about ante-bellum life and conditio •. in Burke County. Glenn Tucker wrote High Tide at Gettysburg; �Literature J 221 Tecumseh; Vision of Glory; and Zeb Vance, Champion of Freedom. Works of Cordelia Camp include David Lowry Swain, Governor and University President; The Influence of Geography Upon Early North Carolina; and Governor Vance: a Life for Young People. She edited Some Pioneer Women Teachers in North Carolina. Ina Woestemeyer Van Noppen is the author of four published books in addition to the present one: The Westward Movement; The South: A Documentary History; Stoneman's Last Raid; and, with John J. Van N oppen, Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman: The Green Woods Were His Portion. Harley Jolley had published in 1969 The Blue Ridge Parkway. George B. Watts wrote The Waldenses of Valdese. Pamphlets by Fred B. Cranford, The Waldenses of Burke County, and by Ruth Royal Poovey, The Burke County Gold Rush, were prepared in conjunction with the Burke County Cultural Heritage Project, pursuant to a grant from the United States Office of Education. Con Bryan's Confederate Georgia, has passed through several printings. A number of other writers about this region are worthy of mention. Bill Sharpe's North Carolina: a Description by Counties and a New Geography of North Carolina contains much valuable information about Western North Carolina. The North Carolina Gazetteer by William S. Powell is indispensable in locating quaint-sounding places and the sources of their names. Julia Montgomery Street's Fiddler's Fancy (r955) is about the folk of the Toe River in Mitchell County. It contains a true rendition of mountain speech, folklore, and customs. Legette Blythe wrote Miracle in the Hills, the inspiring story of Dr. Mary Martin Sloop of Crossnore, and with Miss Lucy Morgan he wrote Gift from the Hills, the story of Penland School. He also wrote James W. Davis, North Carolina Surgeon. Davis spent his youth in Wilkes County. Jacob Carpenter of Three Mile Creek kept an interesting diary. Horton Cooper discusses it in his history of Avery County. Opie Percival Read, humorist, wrote The Captain's Romance (1896), The ]ucklins (1896), Odd Folks (1897), and a number of other novels. The ]ucklins is a romance about a schoolteacher in Western North Carolina. Maria Poole describes the pervasive superstitions that affected the lives of mountain people. Her novels, such as In Buncombe County, give a most damaging account �222 / Part II: A Changing Society of mountain character. She gives a graphic account of a revival meeting near Asheville. Rosser Taylor wrote Carolina Crossroads. Logan B. Logan produced Ladies of the White House. Mrs. Edith Erskine of Weaverville and Mrs Charlotte Young wrote several volumes of poetry. Martha Norburn Mead wrote Asheville the Land of the Sky. Bill Nye, the humorist, lived in Asheville, and his syndicated column appeared in the Asheville papers. Helen Topping Miller wrote The Splendor ofEagles, and George Bledsoe, The Shadows Point North, about the impact of summer tourists upon the mountains. Lewis W. Green has written a first novel, And Scatter the Proud, integrating six short stories about life in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The setting is on the crest of Big Lonesome, a mountain traversed by the Blue Ridge Parkway. The characters search for meaning in life. Green says: "The mountaineers asked of the outlanders only that their pride be unmolested, their self-respect honored, their dignity left intact. This courtesy they extended to all others." Alberta Pierson Hannum, (Look Back With Love) is full of sympathetic understanding and love of the mountain people and their lore of bygone days. Each chapter begins with an entry from the diary of Jacob Carpenter of Three Mile Creek. She also wrote The Gods and One, April Thursday, Avery County, and The Hills Step Lightly. The author is an Ohioan, but long a resident of the North Carolina Hills. Mrs. T. Henry Wilson (Dell B. Wilson) had published in 1969 The Gran4father and the Globe based on the Civil War exploits of Keith Blalock and his wife in the Globe-Grandfather Mountain area. Romulus Linney, a descendant of the "Bull of the Brushies," the noted lawyer whose namesake he is, wrote the novels Heathen Valley, about Valle Crucis, (1962); Slowly by Hand Unfurled (1965); and a play, The Sorrows of Frederick (1966). �CHAPTER ELEVEN The Lore of the Folk Booted and spurred and bridled rode he, A plume in his saddle and a sword at his knee. Back come his saddle all bloody to see; Back come his steed but never come he. Riding on the highlands, steep was the way Riding in the lowlands, hard by the Tay. Out come his old mother with feet all so bare; Out come his bonnie bride riving of her hair. The meadows all a-falling and the sheep all unshorn; The house is a-leaking and the baby's unborn. But Bonnie James Campbell nowhere can you see With a plume in his saddle and a sword at his knee. For to home came his saddle all bloody to see; Home came the steed, but never came he. The song that tells this sad story can today be heard and enjoyed by many people who have no idea of life in the country, let alone of life centuries ago in Scotland, because in some localities and in some families there have been men, and women, like Frank Proffitt, who like to sing old songs, and men and women who have wanted to preserve their songs or stories, or legends, or superstitions, so that many people might enjoy and profit from them. But what importance is there in a song that laments a Bonnie James Campbell that nobody can recall, except in this song, 223 �224 / Part II: A Changing Society aside from the possibility that he may have been the James Campbell who died in 1594 in the battle of Genlivet? There is no easy answer to this question. Frank Proffitt's answer may be as good as any when he explained the value of a traditional life in a letter quoted in the Carolina Farmer: "My folks was of the poorest but they was of the highest moral standards. Not knowing about books or letters, they stored in their memory all of the best of the old proven ways and was forever busy making things for useful and entertaining purposes." Proffitt's tradition was one of people who did not depend on others for values but who made their own standards out of what they had inherited and what they had. Ballads like "Bonnie James Campbell" were a part of the way of life of the people who came to Western North Carolina around the time of the Revolutionary War, and, depending on the locality, in the decades before and after. But they were not by any means the chief cultural tradition that evolved there. Religious activities came to play a very important part in the life of rural America, including Western North Carolina, and the region became the nearly exclusive doma~ of pentacostal and fundamentalist sects. As a result one of the chief cultural traditions that developed was the singing of religious folksongs in homes, churches, and at gatherings such as the camp meetings. But there was for everybody the necessity of living not just on Sunday but on all the other days of the week. The religious leaders were often interested in stamping out the "Devil's ditties" that were the abundant heritage of rural people from Medieval times, but the influences of this-wordly necessities and interests have helped preserve the secular materials to the present day, through the use of some excellent subterfuges, as well as out-right rebellion, on the part of the pleasure-loving, the hunting and drinking men, and the spirited and fun-loving youths. The austere fatalism and the visions of glory of many fundamentalist churches were not able to uproot the traditions of living pleasurably and vigorously. There seem to have developed separate traditions of entertainment. In addition to listening to old songs in the solitude of the home at a father's knee, in a mother's lap or at her side, or at the foot of a grandmother's rocker, there was also the music making, which as often as not involved either drinking or dancing or both. The oldest instrument whose use among the rural folk we may be sure of is the fiddle, and fiddle playing evolved �The Lore of the Folk / 22 5 traditions of its own, styles of performance that included the when and the where, and one of the most interesting wheres was perhaps the fiddlers' conventions, where champion fiddlers of several localities competed for recognition and sometimes prizes, after long spells of practicing on their neighbors at dances. When and how other instruments came to be added, in addition to the fiddles, to make the musical ensembles that are still nearly ubiquitous in the mountains is not certain. To the fiddlers' contests and conventions may be added singing conventions, where the singers of religious folk songs are known to have assembled, sometimes for the awarding of prizes for the best performances. Also rural customs in many places were annual hunting expeditions and shooting contests. The mountain folk are a sociable lot to this day, and while old customs fade, new ones are added. For the most part, the camp meetings are gone without a trace, but the "Singing on the Mountain" is reminiscent of the older religious singin' gatherin's. The modern mountaineer may go to the Asheville Folk Festival, to the crafts fairs held in Gatlinburg and Hiwassee, to the fiddlers' conventions that today are gaining in popularity and in the attention paid them such as the ones at Galax, Virginia, and Union Grove and at different times of the year in a host of communities. The annual hunts seem to be less prevalent, but the sportsman may go only short distance from his home to the nearest stock car race to be with a great enthusiastic crowd. Still, many people have the feeling that something has been lost, that nothing like the past will be seen again. Certainly the nature of community activities has changed. The Appalachian natives, like other pioneer groups, engaged in communal labor sharing, such as quilting, house-raising, and harvesting, and these customs have almost passed away. Just as important, perhaps, were the community entertainments, the play-parties and dances. The play-parties, even in communities where dancing was prohibited, were the harmless and hilarious gatherings of young people, and many of the games were ancient. The dances employed by the older folks were different from those observed in England by Cecil Sharp. These activities seem to have been superseded by institutions centering on the school, the church, and the chamber of commerce. Finally, some of the most perishable forms of folklore, the oral tales, the superstitions, the legends and fables have been subjected to the eroding influence of the media - printing, �226 / Part II: A Changing Society schooling, and electronic devices. But some very interesting tales whose progress from India over long centuries of oral transmission has been traced are still to be heard in the highlands. During the heroic age of Northern Europe there lived poets, in Scandinavia called scalds, in Anglo-Saxon England called scops and gleemen, who entertained and edified courts and kings with their songs. The inhabitants of England before the arrival of the Anglo-Saxons were the Celts, and Celts also inhabited Ireland, Wales, and Brittany in France. Their poets, the bards, also sang heroic songs and at times had the gift of prophecy. The modem folksingers, in their tragic ballads, may be continuing a tradition that is descended from the influence of these early poets. The lyric songs and love songs of the Appalachian singer seem more closely related to the poets of Medieval Europe, its troubadours, minnesingers, and jongleurs. Since no one knows the origin of a song that is truly folk (by one widely accepted definition, folk songs are anonymous), some of the anonymous authors of folk songs might have been medieval poets. After centuries had passed since the earliest English ballad (in the thirteenth century) was written down, in 1917 Cecil Sharp, an English folklorist, and Mrs. John C. Campbell toured the mountains and were the first to make an important collection of both the music and the words of the ballads there. They visited White Rock, Allanstand, Alleghany, Carmen, Big Laurel, and Hot Springs in Western North Carolina- the Laurel country. They found that the mountaineers were direct descendants of original settlers from England and Scotland who had left their native lands in the eighteenth century and migrated to America. Members of their families had lived in this secluded region, some of them since the time of the Revolution. Because of the difficulty of keeping in contact with the outside world until the twentieth century, their language and customs had remained in some ways much the same as those of their ancestors in England and Scotland. Even in 1917 some of them had no markets, no surplus produce, and barter was their chief medium of exchange. Sharp and Campbell found that most of those in whom they were interested lived in log cabins and had few �The Lore of the Folk / 227 material comforts, but they were independent and self-sufficient. They were a leisurely, cheery people in whom the social instinct was highly developed. Sharp described them as physically strong and of good stature, usually spare in figure, their features as clean-cut and handsome, their complexions those of people with out-of-doors habits, with superb carriages and a swinging, easy gait. Mrs. Campbell and Sharp collected 450 tunes. Sharp commented that in England only the older people sang ballads but in the Appalachian Mountains ballads were sung by nearly everyone - young and old, that singing was as common and universal a practice as speaking. The fact has been forgotten that singing is the one form of artistic expression that can be practiced without any preliminary study or special training. Sharp believed that it was as natural for children to sing as it is to speak the native tongue. He found that mountain people had the "delightful habit of making beautiful music at all times and in all places." They were courteous and cooperative, and he had little difficulty in getting them to sing for recording. He learned to ask for "love-songs," which was their name for ballads. He found that mountain singers sang in very much the same way as English folk singers, "without any conscious effort at expression and with the even tone and clarity of enunciation with which all folk-song collectors are familiar." One peculiarity that he noticed was their dwelling "upon certain notes of the melody, generally the weaker accents." Most ballad singers sang without accompaniment, but occasionally they accompanied themselves on the guitar or the dulcimer. Many singers had extensive repertoires and none used printed song sheets. Some few, however, had written copies, usually made by children, which they called "ballets," a term used in England to apply to the printed broadsides. The Sharp-Campbell collection included fifty-five ballads, the first thirty-seven of which were in the Francis James Child collection of 305 ballads; the last eighteen were not known or were not included by Child. Sharp and Campbell included also sixty-seven other folk songs. The major forms of entertainment- song and story- are combined in the ballad, which is a narrative song. It tells a story without characterization and without comment or moralizing. The mood is merely suggested; the story is stripped to its bare �228 / Part II: A Changing Society essentials. Although any stage of a culture may produce ballads, they are most characteristic of primitive or isolated societies like the mountains of Western North Carolina in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries or that of the English-Scottish border in the late middle ages. The difference between ballads and other forms of poetry is in the way they have been preserved in the memories of generations of common people who have learned them, sung them, and passed them on orally to others. The themes of ballads are those which appealed most to the common people, most of them concerned with universal human experiences: love and marriage, family relationships, struggle, death, and the supernatural. Usually ballad stories end tragically. Stories of domestic tragedies and ill-fated love affairs are common. A great many older ballads deal with the supernatural, particularly with stories of witchcraft, enchantment, demon lovers, and the return of the dead. In most American versions the supernatural elements are left out. Many ballads chronicle the raids along the English-Scottish border during the late middle ages. Others recount sympathetically the exploits of outlaws, notably those of Robin Hood and Jesse James. Some ballads are based on riddles, telling the story of someone who saved himself from imminent peril by answering riddles correctly, usually through his folk wisdom. A number of ballads are on religious themes, and many make frequent reference to religious tradition and ritual. North Carolina's distinctive contribution to American ballads is a series of brutal murder ballads which establish the standard form for that kind of ballad in America. A famous Western North Carolina ballad is about Frankie Silvers. Frances Stewart Silvers (Frankie) murdered her husband Charles Silvers at the site of the present Black Mountain Station on the Carolina, Clinchfield, and Ohio Railroad, the mouth of the South Toe River, on the night of December 22, I 83 1. She cut off her husband's head with an axe, dismembered the body, and tried to burn portions of it in the fireplace. The crime was discovered. She was tried, convicted, and executed (the first North Carolina woman to be so executed) at Morganton July I2, I833. Before her execution she left a poem lamenting her fate. Her crime and her execution have become the subject of a ballad. Another famous Western North Carolina ballad was that about the murder of Laura Foster by Tom Dula in January I 866. Zeb Vance defended Dula, but he was convicted. Charlie �The Lore of the Folk / 229 Davenport is reported to be the author of the following ballad, which enjoyed great popularity in 1959. This song's popularity was the kickoff of the modern "Folk revival." Hang down your head Tom Dula, hang Down your head and cry; You Killed poor Laura Foster and now you're bound to die. You met her on the hill side, God Almighty knows; You met her on the hill side and there you hid her clothes. You met her on the hill side there to be your wife; You met her on the hill side and there you took her life. Phillip Houston Kennedy's study of the printed collections of ballads found in North Carolina has revealed that in several ways Western North Carolina is distinctive in the repertoire of its singers (ballad collectors have found English ballads sung in every state) and also in the amount of collecting that has been done here. In the Frank C. Brown Collection of North Carolina Folklore appear 399 mountain variants of ballads gathered by six collectors (the number of piedmont variants is 267, by three collectors; from the coastal region, I 37 ballad variants, by three collectors). Twenty-five of the twenty-seven mountain counties in his study were visited by collectors. He found the southwestern counties the most sparsely collected, but found Watauga county the foremost locality in the state for the number of songs collected there, and in general the northwestern section is the best represented. A further distinctive feature of the northwest is that the most unusual ballads in the Brown Collection came from there, including these examples: "Katherine ]affray" (Avery), "Robin Hood Rescuing Three Squires" (Watauga), "Queen Eleanor's Confession" (Avery), and "The Suffolk Miracle" (Yadkin). One unusual ballad from the southwestern section is "The Boony Earl of Murray" (Henderson). The rare ballads in the Cecil Sharp Collection were from the singing of a Mrs. Gentry in Madison County who was noted for her extensive repertoire of old songs. Fifty years ago ballad singers wandered through the mountains singing ballads for bed and board. Most people loved the ballads, but the Hardshell Baptists condemned them as "devil's ditties." They declared: "The devil rides on a fiddlestick." Many ghost tales were told and many ballads were sung before the winter fires of the mountaineers. The love-song ballads were also an inspiration for the love act. �230 J Part II: A Changing Society In Western North Carolina "the primitive melodic tradition of the ballads was preserved also in the strange chants and longdrawn funeral songs." The tunes, "mournful and beautiful," embodied the spirit of loneliness, sorrow, and resignation of the isolated mountaineers. The "infare," a heritage from the remote past described sometimes in the tragic love ballads of tradition, was a social event accompanying weddings. A couple married in the morning, had breakfast at the home of the bride. Then came the "infare" at the home of the groom. The frolicking included folk dances, and the groom supplied the whiskey, food, and sweets. In the evening after the bride and groom had retired came the "chivaree." The young people of the neighborhood, fun-bent, would come with outlandish noises, hoping to surprise and embarrass the newlyweds. Usually dancing and drinking followed, with the groom again furnishing the whiskey. Extensive study has been given to the musical traditions that include the tunes of the ballads and folk songs and of the instrumental music, which also reveals a kinship with old-world traditions. This study has revealed a melodic process traceable before the sixteenth century and bearing evidence of "the uninterrupted continuation of a long-lived and downright archaic tradition of music making among the unschooled people." The melodies of the folk can be shown to belong to some forty tune "families," consisting of melodic ideas which "have been subjected to conscious and unconscious variation, adapted to various uses, extended or contracted, but can be identified if a tune is examined completely .... " It is only a music scholar who is capable of revealing the basic melodic ideas in the countless variants and versions of the thousands of songs and the multitude of styles that exist in the American folksong tradition. The Frank C. Brown Collection of North Carolina Folklore, III, Folk Songs, contains many of the popular mountain folk songs. This book has interesting illustrations, pictures of herb gatherers, and of sorghum boiling. Folk songs have merely an expression of sentiment rather than the action implied in a ballad. Included are the following: Courting Songs such as "A Paper of Pins;" Drinking and Gambling Songs like "The Lips that Touch Liquor Must Never Touch Mine;" Homiletic Songs: "The Wicked Girl" and "A Poor Sinner"; Play-party and Dance Songs such as "Oh, Pretty Polly," "Peg in the Parlor," "Turkey Buzzard," "Wish I had a Needle and Thread," "Too Young to Marry," "Pop Goes the Weasel"; Lullabies and Nursery �The Lore of the Folk / 23 r Rhymes like "Bye Baby Bunting," "The Frog's Courtship," "McDonald's Farm," "Scotland's Burning," "Go Tell Aunt Patsy"; Jingles about Animals: "Possum up a Simmon Tree" "The Old Gray Mare,"; Folk Lyrics: "Sourwood Mountain," "Pretty Sara," "0 ld Smokey," "Kitty Kline," "Charming Betsy"; Work Songs: "The Com Shucking Song," and "Old Blue." Religious Songs included are "The Cumberland Traveler," "Rock of Ages," "Pharoah's Army," and "Jacob's Ladder." Songs sung by Indians are "Ah, Poor Sinner," and "Cherokee Hymn." Among Western North Carolina collectors and singers have been Dr. I. G. Greer, Bascom Lamar Lunsford, Frank Proffitt, "Doc" Watson, Dean Cratis Williams, Edith Walker, Pearl Webb, and Dr. Amos Abrams. Dr. Greer collected over three hundred ballads. At fourteen he could sing more than forty ballads. Lunsford and Proffitt could sing over three hundred from memory. At eighty Lunsford sang for ninety hours for recordings by the Encyclopaedia Britannica Corporation. These singers and ballad collectors awakened the pride of the people in their traditional music. Alan Lomax wrote, "The first function of music, especially of folk music, is to produce a feeling of security for the listener by voicing the particular quality of a land or of the life of the people. To the traveller, a line from a familiar song may bring back all the familiar emotions of home, for music is a magical summing up of the patterns of family, of love, of conflict, and of words which gave a community its special quality and which shape the personalities of its members. Folk song calls the native back to his roots and prepares him emotionally to dance, worship, work, fight, or make love normal to his place. . . . On the American frontier men worked and sang together on terms of amity and equality impossible in the Old World .... The common man, the individual, is everything in American folk song .... " Professor George Pullen Jackson has advocated the thesis that the white spirituals of the mountain people are the progenitors of the Negro spirituals. He believes that followers of John Wesley and other revivalists, seeking inspiring revival hymns, took popular folk tunes, wrote religious words for them, and used them in their revival meetings. This activity �232 J Part II: A Changing Society A family sings together constituted an American religious folksong movement. It began in New England and spread southward, until the whole South became the province of these songs. As the practice of singing these songs died out elsewhere, it survived in folk communities in the South. Only the fact of a wide-spread movement was new; in very early times singers had sung songs to folk tunes. Singing hymns to secular tunes has been prevalent for thirteen centuries. When Cecil Sharp asked mountain people for songs, they thought he wanted hymns. He had to ask for love songs to hear ballads. Nevertheless, a few religious songs, "The Cherry Tree Carol," and "Hicks' Farewell," are in Sharp's collection. Professor Jackson feels that Sharp missed the opportunity to be the discoverer of religious folk songs, that revival and camp meeting hymns used catchy folk tunes, and that many came from Baptist, Methodist, and Presbyterian hymnals. There are thousands of these songs. Many religious mountain folk believe these folk hymns to be the most beautiful music on earth. Thus the white spirituals are an important phase of mountain culture. �The Lore of the Folk / 233 Artus Moser wrote in 1969 that group singing of hymns from shaped note song books still occurs in many rural churches of Western North Carolina: "Singing conventions meet in the different communities, and go by such names as the North Buncombe Singing Convention, the Haywood Singing Convention, the Dutch Cove Old Time Singing, the Old Harp Singing in Transylvania County near Brevard." He also reports that singing schools, conducted by itinerant music masters, are still held in some communities. The singing school practice is intended to teach the rudiments of musical knowledge, and then all are encouraged to do as their elders do, to sing and enjoy. Professor Jackson believed that "the chief source of spiritual nourishment of any nation must be in its own past perpetually rediscovered and renewed" and that there is a national unity in the American folk song tradition. Jackson was a great pioneer in the field of folk studies in his rediscovery of early America's little known hymnals and tunebooks and the historical forces that produced them. They were first used by the Baptists, but the Methodists soon made the revival songs their own and became the great spreaders of white spirituals. These white spirituals are a much neglected body of folk music. They are far more numerous and their use was far more wide spread than the singing of ballads. Yet ballad collecting and singing have attracted the efforts of hundreds, while the collecting of gospel hymns based on folk tunes has been largely neglected. Southern country singing inspired Jackson, and he began to study the subject. "Fasola" (the name of three notes of the scale as the singing schools taught them) singing was based on the shape-note hymnals. These shape notes were musical helps that enabled the musically illiterate to read the notes and to sing. There were singing schools and normal schools for training singers. The Sacred Harp (I 844), one of the most famous hymnals, went through many editions, twenty-one by compilers in the Southern states. "Singing Billy" Walker's Southern Harmony had universal appeal in the South. It channeled the living stream of white spiritual songs into the present and preserved it. There are still Southern Harmony singings like the annual "Singing on the Mountain" on Grandfather Mountain. At the "sings," the leader holds the book in his left hand, beats time with his right: down, left, up, right. Sometimes he calls the beat audibly. If stanzas not in the book are sung, the �234 / Part II: A Changing Society leader "lines out" the hymns. The Christian Harmony (1805) was probably the first hymnal to record revival tunes; the Olive Leaf (1878) was among the last. Among the widely used hymnals were William Hauser's Hesperian Harp, the Social Harp by John Gordon McCurry, the Sacred Harp with B. F. White as chief compiler and E. J. King as co-author. There were many editions of the Sacred Harp from 1844 to 1879 and even two editions in 1911. The Original Sacred Harp, a later version, contained 609 tunes and 1226 names of authors and composers, 861 of whom were from the Southern states. Of these tunes "The Romish Lady," "Wicked Polly," "The Little Family," and other songs were based on old ballads. Millions of the shape note song books were sold. Many of the Scotch Irish elements in the "Fasola" folk songs and hymns were secular; many recalled historical events; many dealt with religious experience: bad men, bad women, biblical events, anti-drinking songs. Many of the spiritual songs were born in camp meetings. Watts and John and Charles Wesley brought religious hymnody nearer to the masses by endowing it with "personal emotion, spiritual spontaneity, and evangelism." The village, town, and city church folk slowly abandoned the South's indigenous songs. But the rural songs met the people's tastes, and they felt that "God's music" was sung in the country churches. This congregational singing used songs handed down by oral transmission. They were often derived from ballads, were "dressed-up folklore." The phrases, rhythms, harmonies, stereotypes of expression, whole melodies often passed from one channel to another. An ancient folk ballad might become a hymn tune and then the hymn tune might be the origin of a bawdy song. Hymns and camp meeting songs were often robbed from fiddlers, fifers, harpers, and frolickers. Over nine hundred published religious folk tunes sprang up in the mid-eighteenth century. The tunes were mainly secular folk airs used in hymns in the New Light and the Great Awakening. Many religious ballads are found in the old manuals of country singers. They are for individual singers, not groups. The sung story is the thing. The singer tells the story in the first person: the poor wayfaring stranger going over Jordan. They are similar to the old-world ballads in form. More significant than the ballads are the revival spiritual songs, for where one could sing by himself to secular words all could sing in a gathering to religious words. "Mountain songs," secular tunes with religious �The Lore of the Folk / 2 35 words, have persisted in the Southern Appalachians, but have generally passed out of existence elsewhere. Folk music is a constantly flowing stream. There are eddies and currents, survivals intact of ancient lore, and new modes of creation. Legends, yarns, folk tales, folk songs, ballads are as much a part of the life of a folk community as are its laws, customs, and ways of making a living. They tell a good deal about what the people admire and about what kind of people they really are. " And it came to pass, when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, that David took an harp, and played with his hand: so Saul was refreshed and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him." The harp or lyre was an ancient instrument of widespread use. In Israel the young shepherd soothed the savage beasts with a harp. Representing the ancient traditions of the Celtic people, the harp is the symbol of the Irish people. The Appalachian mountains are the home of another primitive form of harp, a folk instrument that seems distinctive. The Appalachian dulcimer may be taken, not as the most wide-spread folk instrument, which it is not, but as a symbol of a folk tradition that has its roots in antiquity, but which has developed distinctive forms. It is properly a symbol, like the Irish harp to the Irish, of the best of a traditional culture. Attempts have been made to trace the mountain dulcimer to origins beyond the seas, with imperfect success. Some writers have even thought the instrument to be descended from the Harp of David. This conclusion seems hardly justified. Among many people who have voiced opinions on the subject, Jean Ritchie of the Kentucky mountains has been one of the most eloquent in the support of its native origin. In her The Dulcimer Book she makes detailed comparisons of the dulcimer with the Norwegian langeleik, the Swedish humle, and the French epignette des Vosges, all somewhat related to the medieval German instrument, the scheitholtz. She concludes that the instrument found in the Appalachians was "born" after years of experimentation, that it is "adequate, eloquent, refined, a complete statement of the mountaineer's life- its simplicity, sorrows, gaiety, beauty." An enthusiast about the instrument, Julia Montgomery Street describes the instrument thus: "The mountain dulcimer, with two to eight strings, most commonly three, big tuning �236 / Part II: A Changing Society pegs, fretted fingerboard, and curved neck [all these fitted to an oblong box played flat on the lap or on a table] has been known and cherished for generations throughout the Southern Appalachians, and nowhere else .... " She described the use to which it was put: " ... for a solitary singer or intimate family song fest, the preferred music was the melody of a sweet-singing, plaintive dulcimer. The tune-box was generally swept [played] by a girl or woman ... , " and it was either homemade or handed down. The relationship of the instrumental music of the Southern Appalachians to the custom of singing ballads is uncertain. The British ballads and the dulcimer both seem to be rarer than the native songs and the other instruments. Both seem to belong to the home. But many experts on the folksong tradition say it has been one of unaccompanied singing. Certainly, the instruments that are numerous and widely played are the fiddle, the banjo, the mandolin, the guitar, and today, the bass fiddle and electric guitar. The history of these instuments in Western North Carolina is an unwritten story, as much so as that of the dulcimer. There is of course no question about the fiddle. This is a nearly universal instrument throughout areas where Europeans live or have settled. Negro slaves in colonial times provided the music for the stately dances of eighteenth century planters, playing tunes they learned from the English. These tunes are still current in Western North Carolina, and many of them can easily be recognized as directly descended from songs heard in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, England, and even Germany, Scandinavia. The ages of the tunes suggest that the history of instrumental music parallels that of the ballads and folksongs. Further, the instrumental tradition was retained by the same cultural groups as was the rest of North Carolina and Appalachian folklore. The instrumentalists did not live in separate communities. How extensive, and how important is this music? These tunes are not limited to a couple of dozen only, "and they do not all sound the same, as some people have commented to me Uoan Moser] upon first hearing. Instead, it appears that there are as many as two hundred distinctly separate fiddle tunes along with many variants." But this music has yet to be given the attention of people who have an interest in preserving folklore. "There remains a vital body of material, yet to be explored, �The Lore of the Folk / 237 more alive today than ballad singing or any other oral folk art. . . . Published editions of this music are practically nonexistent." Cecil Sharp included only half a dozen "jig" tunes in his Appalachian collection. "Yet, if popular usage by the folk of today is any measure of the vitality of this material, then one must note that in North Carolina alone, for every festival or program of ballad singing produced today, there are half-a-dozen fiddlers' contests, at least." In fact, for a century these gatherings have been a traditional local event in many communities. Miss Moser believes that the instrumental music of Western North Carolina is part of a heritage that belongs to general European folk culture. The tunes themselves are part of a tune heritage that belongs especially to the ethnic groups that settled the region. These tunes are part of more than forty families of tunes, including song, dance, and instrumental music. "Though tunes show stylistic variations in certain areas, similar variations of widespread tunes turn up in area after area. The lack of localized versions may attest the age of the tune families (one of which goes back at least to the tenth century) or their small number. ... " But the tradition is not just an inherited one. It is perpetually creative of new materials along traditional lines: "This music is part of a cultural heritage which extends back as far as the ancient Morris dances and forward as far as modern ragtime and jazz. The tunes the fiddlers play include sword dance tunes which have been adapted to square dances, Scottish marches inherited from bagpipe melodies, waltzes of a more recent vintage, and tunes with a definite ragtime beat and tonal organization.'' The introduction of new instruments into the folk tradition was an important event in the development of a regional style of music. The fiddle, the one folk instrument that came to America with the ballads, was played to accompany dancing and for its own sake. At some point, probably after the introduction of the banjo and guitar, the fiddle became applied as an accompaniment to the voice, at the same time applying rhythms developed to make dance steps. At first exclusively a lead instrument among other instruments, in modern bluegrass, which developed from the "old timey" string ensemble, the fiddle is used as an accompanying instrument, and the banjo, guitar or mandolin take the lead part (or the singer). �23 8 f Part II: A Changing Society The banjo, an American invention in its five-string form, has in the mountain tradition developed distinctive styles. One feature of this distinctive style is the use of the short, fifth string, as a drone, sounded throughout the music, not always in harmony with the music. Another characteristic feature of the mountain banjo style is a system of changing the tuning to achieve different keys without moving the hand from the first position, and to play specific melodies. (This technique is also used with the fiddle, in which case it is called scordature, and has an old history.) Some authorities date the development as having been complete as early as the r88o's. The oldest method of picking the strings is variously named, but many people know it as "frailing." There are a variety of other styles of picking. In ensemble practice, the banjo was not known as a solo lead instrument until the bluegrass era launched it into national prominence as a solo instrument. The history of the guitar in America is not well recorded, but its popularity in Europe in the eighteenth century spread to this country in the nineteenth. However this may be, most mountain people say there were no guitars around until around r 91 o. The guitar in the "old timey" string bands was a background instrument until the recording era, when the possibility of melody playing was introduced from outside. Although the guitar is still used as an accompanying instrument, many individuals have become prominent as masters of a special, complicated style, also their varied influences can be heard in bluegrass styles. The bluegrass band is the modern version of the rural string band that developed into ensemble practice through the introduction of new instruments, the touring medicine show, political campaigning, the commercial possibilities of accompanying dances, playing on the radio, and making recordings. This tradition was at its heyday in the 1920's. The depression drove the practice back into the mountains, as the Nashville music industry develooed the "star" tradition. In the recent decades, the advent of bluegrass music as a modernized version of this older string band tradition signalized a rebellion against the commercialization that threatened to take country music away from its origin and into the city. The amazing feature of the mountain music tradition is that it embodies all the periods of its development, from the unaccompanied singing of ballads and the solo use of the fiddle �The Lore of the Folk / 239 A banjo picker ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. for dance music, through its modern manifestations. One of the best places for one who is not acquainted with the mountain traditions to encounter a great deal of what is still to be found of them is at one of the music conventions that have developed, mainly from the old fiddlers' contests, in Galax, Virginia (in August), in Union Grove, North Carolina (at Easter), and at Asheville, North Carolina (in July) . Each of these large gatherings has over forty years of its own history, but the custom of holding such gatherings is much older. An interesting account of the earlier, less enormous fiddlers' contests, was written by Louis Rand Bascom early in the century: "The convention is essentially an affair of the people, and is usually held in a stuffy little schoolhouse, lighted by one or two evil-smelling lamps, and provided with a rude, temporary stage. On this the fiddlers and 'follerers of banjo pickin' ' sit, their coats and hats hung conveniently on pegs above their heads, their faces inscrutable. To all appearances they do not care to whom the prize is awarded, for the winner will undoubtedly treat. Also they are not bothered by the note taking of zealous judges, as these gentlemen are not appointed until after each contestant has finished his allotted "three pieces." �240 / Part II: A Changing Society The 1955 Mountain Dance and Folk Festival held annually in Asheville, directed ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO by Bascom Lamar Lunsford At the Old Fiddlers Conventions at Union Grove about as much interest was shown in extemporaneous performances on the grounds as under the big tent. This is a scene from Union Grove in the 196o's PHOTO BY ROUNDER RECORDS �The Lore of the Folk / 241 The modern super convention has to some extent replaced these smaller and more local affairs, and blue grass has made inroads (but not the crooner style of commercial country music). At each of these the variety of entertainment is great, and it is greatest at the Asheville Dance and Folk Festival, where rank amateurs, commercial artists, dancing groups, solo ballad singers, and bands are all to be seen and heard. At the Union Grove Old Time Fiddlers' Convention, at Asheville, and at Galax Virginia's Old Time Fiddlers' Convention, the number of bands is in the hundreds, and the time which is consumed including all-night festivities is several days. Joan Moser recommends them to the interested: "The commercial exploitation of these is far less than that of the ordinary folk festival. The proceeds, for instance, usually go to local non-profit educational or charitable funds, and for this reason the music is less likely to be dressed up for audience appeal. It is performed in more traditional styles than is the case with more commercial and sensation seeking festivals. This is not to say that showmanship and artistic virtuosity are missing, by any means, but they do remain within the bound of traditional practice." Although each of the three festivals named draws crowds in the thousands and from far away, there are a multitude of the smaller, local schoolhouse variety of fiddlers' contests. To a city dweller or a resident of the suburbia of which so many Americans are a part, a remarkable feature of the mountain culture is the extent to which work and recreation coincide. Artus Moser describes the trait of community sharing this way: "They learned to cooperate and work together, sing together, dance together, as neighbors and friends. Some of the very old people will tell you with much conviction that they had more fun and pleasure when they were young than the modern young generation, ... " The square dance is the recognized dance of the mountain people. With it goes the mountain music of the fiddle, guitar, and the banjo. This music bears within itself its own unique musical form with its rapid jump from key to key and its expression of emotion. The square dance is the descendant of the minuet, the Virginia Reel, and English and Scottish folk dances. �242 / Part II: A Changing Society Square dance groups meet outdoors in the summer ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO The majority of the people were fundamentalists and puritanical. They thought that dancing where there was bodily contact was sinful. They condoned "play-party" games. The square dance was an exuberant amusement at these play-parties. It gave the energetic young people a means of enjoying their healthful animal spirits. M any years ago Bascom Lamar Lunsford of Turkey Creek (Buncombe County) organized the Mountain Dance and Folk Festival in Asheville. It has been held every summer since that time. Ballad singers and musicians and square dance groups perform and compete. This competition has helped to maintain and to spread the popularity of square dancing. Then, too, there is music making for its own sake. These get-togethers might be at several t ypical places: at someone's house, out doors (often in the summer months), or at a store or filling station. These musical get-togethers involve considerable ritual: reverence for old players or listeners and deference to their tastes, tuning up (an endless and hair-raising process), taking turns at playing the lead (unless the fiddle player is elderly and august, in which case he may always play the lead), and usually drinking (depending on the presence of women). The �The Lore of the Folk / 243 drinking ritual might impose a different role on the fiddle player (who needs more concentration) than on the guitar player (who needs to loosen up and steady his rhythm). Under some circumstances drinking is always done covertly, behind the house or in a car. The rules are strict. Folk beliefs and superstitions have evolved from the folk wisdom of an isolated people who had to make-do with what they had and where they were. They used their herb remedies for illnesses, the omens and signs for planting and harvesting crops. They used practices that had worked, based upon their actual experiences. They believed in luck, magic, nature, witchcraft. These beliefs rooted in common sense needed to have added to them the results of scientific knowledge and investigation. When such results were unavailable, they relied upon themselves. Folklore is the seed, the plant, the natural growth by which legends turn into myths. It has long been an integral part of the lives of the mountain people. It was a product of their primitive lives, their simple pleasures, and their struggle to survive and make their lives as creatively rich and as pleasurable as possible. The folklore of Western North Carolina is rich with the stories, legends, ballads, games, songs, amusements, and occupations of the mountain people. Lacking books, theaters, amusements, they created an imaginative and indigenous way of life for themselves. Many of the folktales are based on pagan beliefs of other millenia, which have survived as oral literature. When primitive man could not understand death, sickness, lightning, and other nautral phenomena, he attributed them to malignant deities, such as witches and devils. To protect himself from these malignant forces he created benevolent spirits to save him from the forces of evil. Eventually these spirits became his gods. Finally the one-God concept evolved and the gods became God. Then even though man wished with all his might to believe in the benevolence of God, he still feared the devil, forces of evil, malignant spirits, and the consequences of a remorseles destiny. He blamed certain undesirable happenings upon fate, luck, chance, the influence of witches and other malignant spirits. Folklore is a characteristic of man's cultural heritage. Everyone is affected by it, but quite possibly the more simple, ignorant, isolated, �244 / Part II: A Changing Society Bascom Lamar Luniford and Obray Ramsey make mountain music. They are representative of numerous groups of banjo, fiddle, and guitar players who travel miles to enjoy their favorite pastime PHOTO BY AMERICAN MUSIC CONFERENCE and illiterate a person is, the more greatly he is influenced by folk beliefs. Folk tales like the ballads were handed down by oral communication and transmission. Like the ballad singer, the folk teller of tales "adopted not only the vocabulary and language but also the technique of high-pitched and nasal speech of the people, ... their soft drawl." These tales were a part of spoken culture until a literary man like Richard Chase came along, �The Lore of the Folk / 245 collected them, wrote them down, and thus made them available to a wider audience than could have heard the native fabulists. In the mountains of Western North Carolina there are many folk tales and legends. Concerning these one must ask the following questions: how interesting are they? how significant? how widely are they told? to what extent are they believed in Western North Carolina? One would say that the belief that if a corpse were touched by a murderer it would bleed afresh would be absurd. Yet a suspected murderer was given this test in Ashe County, North Carolina, and the legend is that the corpse bled. There are many legends about witchcraft. There was a witchcraft trial in North Carolina in 1920. Belief in ghosts was once involved to explain North Carolina's most widely advertised natural mystery, the Brown Mountain lights. These lights that can be seen over Brown Mountain from the Blowing Rock highway and elsewhere have been investigated by scientists and have been written about time and again. They were the subject of a mystery novel, Kill One, Kill Two by W. W. Anderson in 1940. The lights were investigated by the U.S. Geological Survey in 1913 and 1921. They have also been investigated by the National Geographic Society. The report of the Geological Survey scientists stated that they were reflections of automobile and train headlights. H. C. Martin asserted in the Lenoir Topic that they were reflections of the lights of Lenoir, Morganton, and Granite Falls. Hobart Whitman said the lights were really over Hickory, Morganton, and Valdese and that they merely appeared to be over Brown Mountain. Others have asserted that the lights were swamp fire or will-o-the-wisp, luminous reflections from phosphorescent substances. Many people have explored Brown Mountain and have found no cause of the lights. One evidence that the lights are reflections is that there was no legend concerning them before the twentieth century. There is a legend that the man in the moon is there for burning trash on Sunday. Many are the legends about forlorn lovers. The most appealing of these is about the beautiful Indian princess who, after the death of her lover, leaped from a cliff into the river. Thus the Estatoe River received its name. An interesting legend tells how the Indians obtained fire. They had no fire. Three old witches over the hill did. The Indians and their animal friends stole a firebrand from the witches. The animals passed it from one to another until it reached the Indian �246 / Part II: A Changing Society village. Henceforth the Indians guarded the precious fire day and night. This is reminiscent of the Greek myth about Prometheus. The story of the origin of the woodpecker concerns a stingy old woman. One day a wizard disguised as an old man came by as she was baking cakes. He asked for a cake. She promised him one but then decided each was too large to give to him. Because of her stinginess he changed her into a woodpecker. A flower legend is about a little girl who liked to look at the sun so much that she was changed into a sunflower. The fuchsia is supposed to belong to the devil. The purple bell that drops down is his bell, the red petals that turn up are hell flames. The trees bowed before Jesus, the aspen refused. Ever since, it has trembled in fear. The mistletoe was once a large tree. Its wood was used for the cross of Jesus. Now it is a parasite. At Clifton, Ashe County, legend has it that a witch woman, Lyla Weaver, bewitched a rooster and made a snake appear on the counter in the store, so terrifying the merchant that he gave her a bolt of cloth. In Watauga County Old Henry, supposedly a male witch, put a spell on his daughter-in-law. Her family kept a stoppered bottle hanging from the loft to obviate the curse. There is the belief that the only way to kill witches is to shoot them with silver bullets. It was believed in Todd, N.C., that under the spell of a witch crops will not mature or will wilt and dry up, that a witch could bewitch horses so that they would die after trying to climb trees and walk logs and fences, that when horses' manes and tails are tangled, they've been ridden by witches, that witches can't abide lye soap, that if you don't want soap bewitched stir it with a sassafras stick, that if butter won't congeal you should put a coin in the churn to attract the witch's attention so the butter will come. There are legends of famous ghosts in the mountains. Among the most widely believed are those about the Lineback ghost near Cranberry and the Polly-Place ghost near Haunted Spring, one mile east of the Watauga River. This ghost is like a soldier with brass buttons on his coat. In Watauga County a headless dog was seen near the Cove Creek schoolhouse. There is a legend that a traveler and his dog were murdered and buried under the schoolhouse. Ghostly lights have been seen from Big Laurel in Watauga County. Aunt Sally Simms of Pineola had a vision in which she saw the devil, his wife, and four children come into Billy's house. They danced, had music, and one of the �The Lore of the Folk / 24 7 hellcats sat on the forelog in the fire. She threw boiling water on it but it was not hurt. Then she saw a hand with a knife. Shortly afterwards Betty and a boy named Ralph were running away. Bill, Betty's brother, knifed and shot Ralph. In Wilkes County strangers are told of Guy-scoot-er sky, the wonderful steer with hind legs longer than his front ones for mountain climbing. Olive Tilford Dargan in From My Highest Hill quoted many sayings such as the following: "You can't raise a child that never falls out of bed. They die shure." "Fodder that has never been wet when made into a tea will cure fever." "A writin' spider means good luck." "To cure a baby's thrash get a strange man to lift his shoe to the baby's mouth, blow in the baby's mouth, say the three highest words in the Bible, or get a blackeyed man to give the baby a drink from his right shoe." "One must have a calm spirit if she puts up beans that will not spoil." She wrote of "yarb" medicines: mullein and shumake for a swelled throat, boneset for "agu," pokeweed for "rheumatiz" and spignet for consumption. For earache the remedy was warm rabbit oil poured into the ear. John Foster West recalled from his childhood in the Appalachians of North Carolina a lullaby: "Whatcha gonna do with the baby? Whatcha gonna do with the baby? Wrope it up in the tablecloth And throw it up in the stable loft. Whatcha gonna do with the baby? West recalled a toe game that the children liked : "Big toe: "This old sow say 'Let's go steal wheat.'" Second toe: "Where we git hit at?" The Third toe says: "Massa's barn" The little toe, when twisted, would say: "This little pig say, "Wee! wee! wee! I can't get over the doorsill.'" Many of our children's games had their origin in antiquity. "Jacks" was mentioned by Aristophanes. The Romans played "How many fingers?". "Blindman's Buff" and "odd and even" were Greek. "Prisoner's base," "Oats, Peas, Beans, and Barley" were played in the Middle Ages. "Leapfrog" was mentioned by both Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. "Anthony over," "Skip to my Lou," "Scissors-Paper-Stone," "Crack the Whip," "Upset the Fruit Basket," "Hide and Seek" have long been popular in the mountains. �248 / Part II: A Changing Society A rhyme about "hide and seek" is Bucket of wheat, bucket of clover, All not hid can't hide over. All eyes open, here I come. Many games involve practical jokes. In "Barnyard Chorus" only the one uninitiated gave the sound of the farm animals. In "Barber" a girl would tie a scarf around a boy's neck, invite him to be shaved and blindfold him. Then a little boy would kiss him. The blindfold would be removed, and the boy would be asked if that were not the quickest shave he had ever had. There were a number of battle games like "Capture the Flag" and many dramatic singing games like "Jenny Jones," "Old Crony," "Old Grumble," "Old Crummle," "Old Grumly" with onomatopoeic refrains like "chicky my chick my crany crow." A witch would catch all the children and send them home. An amusing guessing game was "Grunt, Pig, Grunt." A child would be blindfolded and then would have to identify which other child had grunted. Another guessing game was "Hackety hack on your back, how many fingers do I hold up?" In "Blindman's Buff" the blindfolded one had to catch and identify one of the players. In "Horns" a player would lose when he called the name of an animal that had no horns; in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" the player had to repeat all the gifts - the first one to omit any dropped out of the game. "Prisoners Base," "Fox in the Morning," "Rover, Red Rover, All come over," "Drop the Handkerchief," "Jacks," and "Mumble Peg" were widely played. There were so many hog drovers passing through the mountains that the children made up a "Hog Drover" game: Hog drovers, hog drovers, hog drovers, we air, A courtin' your darter so neat and so fair, Can we get lodgin' here, oh, here? Can we get lodgin' here?" The child playing the father would answer: "No ugly hog drover gets her for a bride." Riddles were a popular form of humor: On which side does a sheep have the most wool? The outside. The mountain people were fond of proverbs and picturesque sayings. They are part of the folk wisdom and imagination: for every fog in August there'll be a snow in winter; his wife throwed more out the back door than he could tote in the front; as quare as a biddy hatched in a thunder storm. Superstitions represent the primal stage of folklore. One superstition is about a white horse, an omen of good luck. If you see a white horse, kiss the right hand and stamp it twice on the left hand. Thus the white horse, like the first star of evening, is a wishing horse or a magic horse; �The Lore of the Folk / 249 one who eats a bear's heart will have supernatural strength; if you carry a lock of hair of a person you can control that person. Some superstitions concerning domestic pursuits are these: set bread to rise before sunrise; soap should be made in the dark of the moon; a seventh son of a seventh son has miraculous healing powers. Death and funeral customs include the following: if a pregnant woman drinks too much water, she may drown the baby; turn the bed tick before nine days and the mother will die; a ringing in the ears is the tolling of the death bell. There are many good luck omens, fetishes charms. Spittle, a rabbit's foot, a small piece of corn, a buckeye, knocking on wood, stump water are good luck charms. Folk ideas about bees are interesting: swarm in May, worth a load of hay. The principal sports, hunting and fishing, were subjects of folk beliefs: fish will not bite when the wind blows; hunting is good when the moon is in the south, when the air is still. "When the wind is in the east, the fish bite least; When the wind is in the west, the fish bite best; When the wind is in the south, the fish bite in the mouth." A folk hero is Junior Johnson, stock car racer and chicken farmer. The legend of Junior Johnson has developed in Wilkes County. Junior, the "charger," was the idol of the 17,000 people who would drive out Route 421 to the stock car races near Wilkesboro. On such a day the "good ole mountain boys" could hear gospel preaching and shouting on the radio. According to Tom Wolfe the South has preaching, shouting, grits, country music, old memories, traditions, clay dust, old bigots, new liberals, and the lust for racing. Junior was a "hillbilly" who learned to drive by running whiskey for his father, a copper still operator in Ingle Hollow. Junior grossed over $10o,ooo in 1963. Still the Wilkes boys in the apple shacks wake up in the night, hear a supercharged car roar, and say, "Listen at himthere he goes!" Junior became famous for his "bootleg turn" to avoid roadblocks, a 180° turn made by throwing the car into second, stepping on the accelerator, and skidding the rear end around. He was never caught in a car. Once he got through a road block by using a police siren and a red light in his grill. His admirers are usually in their twenties and wear mod clothes. Very few arc clodhoppers. Junior has a huge income, 42,000 chickens, a road-grading business, and a good job with Holly Farms. He is a hero a whole class can identify with. He stirs their imagination. What he is they would like to be. �This page intentionally left blank �PART THREE A Developing Economy March II, I879, Major James W. Wilson, the engineer in charge, wired the Governor: "Daylight has entered Buncombe County today: grade and center met exactly." The last shovelful of earth had been lifted, the rails were laid through the Swannanoa tunnel, and trains from Old Fort and the west met. The place they promptly named Terrell's. The year I88o marked the passing of an era and the ferment of a new one for the mountain counties. As the rails reached a county seat it experienced a little "boom." Lumber and tanning companies moved in, new uses were found for wood, wide-eyed tourists converged to experience the wonders that a few daring travelers had been describing for years. Small aggregations of local capital were thereupon invested here and there in furniture factories and textile mills. Telegraph had preceded the railroad by just a few months. The telegraph was the nerve system and the railroad the arteries carrying materials essential to the integration with national life that was beginning to evolve. The forests in r 880 were great unbroken stretches of never-cut timber, and the timber stands were interrupted only by the island places where men in farms, valleys, and towns made their stands against the wilderness sea of trees. As the fisherman is an intruder on the seas, so then men were invaders of the forests. To make a field or pasture it was necessary to kill trees, so men adopted the practice of burning or stripping a stand of trees to clear land - treating the forest as an 251 �252 / Part III: A Developing Economy enemy to be conquered. Of course most of the houses of men and their contents were won by toil from the forest. Still it was the enemy that was everywhere and eternal. With the railroads came the first lumbering concerns, and the forests were transformed into a marketable commodity, only awaiting the axe. But the farmer was not so immediately affected by the railroad in the 188o's, except that things probably got somewhat better for him with gradually improving markets and new markets for new crops, such as the tobacco crop, then in its infancy as an industry in Western North Carolina. A change in the weaving of people together into society was surely taking place. County seats grew as centers of influence only if railroads reached them, and in some cases towns were created by the arrival of railroads, the town-maker par excellence in America. North Wilkesboro eclipsed Wilkesboro, the county seat, because of the railroad. The railroad now visits West Jefferson, not Jefferson, the county seat. West Jefferson did not exist in 188o. The growth of towns brought change to everyone within convenient reach of one of these centers of culture. Branson's Business Directory for the year 1884 reveals the extent to which business and manufacturing, which today are concentrated, were diffused throughout the counties. Creston, which today is merely a community, was the largest town in Ashe County in 1884, while West Jefferson is today's largest town. Canton in Haywood County was wholly created by the arrival of the railroad in 1883. And while tourism had been practiced on a small scale and the area had been opened to the imaginations of outsiders by explorers like Francois Andre Michaux and his father Andre Michaux, with the arrival of the excursion train (still a phenomenon in the annual excursions run from West Jefferson to Abingdon, Virginia) a new era in entertainment opened up. In 1880 there were old men who had lived out their lives never seeing a wheeled vehicle. Of course a great gulf would continue to exist between what were to remain the stern, uncompromising terms of rural life and the possibilities opened up by the arrival on the scene of means of making men closer together- mass communication, mass transportation, mass production. �CHAPTER TWELVE Hear That Whistle Blow! The building of the Western North Carolina Railroad to Asheville opened a window to the outside world. The previously secluded mountaineers looked through "charmed magic casements" upon what was to them a "brave new world." As they sat in their cabins, with the winter wind blowing through the cracks, their fingers plucking banjo strings, they could hear the long shrill wail of the locomotive's whistle as the train passed Terrell's, now Ridgecrest, and started on the down grade to Old Fort. The mountain man with the banjo would pick up the tempo of his plucking until the rhythm of the strings matched the rhythm of the wheels. His voice would run into a melodic moan: "hear that whistle blow a hundred miles." The man and banjo, train whistle and wheels were like one being: racing, roaring, speeding, pulsating, vibrating on their way to the wonders of the world outside the mountains. The men would dream of getting out to Morganton, Raleigh, Washington, and New York. To the people of the mountains the railroad was more than just engine, passenger and freight cars. It was their means of escape, their ticket to adventure, to a new life, to opportunity and excitement. It became a way of life, breathing, walking, making love, dreaming. It became a symbol of freedom, of hope, of escape from bondage, the bondage of loneliness. It opened the door to the affluence of the outside world. It allured men with the bright and shining promises symbolized by the bright and shining rails. It represented romance as well as being 253 �2 54 / Part III: A Developing Economy an arterial system for carrying goods and services to market. The railroad made both transportation and communication easier. It carried the people and it brought the mail. Before the days of the railroad and rural free delivery, post offices were numerous, Buncombe County having thirty-four. The United States government contracted with individuals to carry the mail from town to town, and frequently the carriers combined hauling the mail with the operation of a stage coach line, sometimes even keeping a tavern at some place along the route for lunch stops or overnight accommodations for the passengers. Sherrill Inn, a saddle-bag type of house of logs at Hickory Nut Gap, was operated until after 1900. Bedford Sherill carried the mail from Salisbury to Asheville via Lincolnton and Rutherfordton. His four horse Albany type coach carried many notable passengers. Drovers also used the inn, often paying for the services in kind: turkeys, a hog, or a steer. After the Western North Carolina Railroad reached Marion in 1870, a number of stage coach lines furnished regular services to points in the mountains such as the Cloudland Hotel on Roan Mountain, and to Asheville, crossing the Swannanoa Gap and following the Swannanoa River. Stage lines also fanned out from Asheville in almost all directions. Tourists enjoyed the travel by stage coach and the bountiful board and rural accommodations along the various routes. . As early as 1827, when railroads in America were just plans on paper, Joel Poinsett of Charleston is said to have dreamed of a railroad to be built across the Blue Ridge Mountains, down the French Broad River, and on to the Ohio Valley. In 1833 he published a pamphlet advocating such a road. Meetings were held in Asheville, Charlotte, and Knoxville. Judge Mitchell King of the resort at Flat Rock was a staunch promoter, and through his influence some preliminary surveys were made by engineers, one of whom was connected with the College of Charleston. An enthusiastic engineer wrote: "On the table land of Buncombe, the very spirit of health will smile upon the enterprise, and it will be hailed with joy by a flood of migration from the south, which even now sends thousands to make a painful journey to this delightful region." More than fifty years passed before a railroad was ever built across the Blue Ridge. In 1852 the General Assembly of North Carolina, the railroad having been completed to Salisbury, chartered a Western North Carolina Railroad to have a capital �Hear That Whistle Blow! / 255 Hauling wood to build the Western North Carolina Railroad. The engine at the front is the little Salisbury that w as hauled over the mountain to expedite the digging of the Swannanoa tunnel ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . of$3,00o,ooo, financed two-thirds by state funds and the remaining third by counties and individuals, to run from Salisbury to the Tennessee line. This was one of the many abortive plans of the next forty years to build a railroad through every western county. In I853 Tennessee chartered a railroad to run from Cincinnati to Paint Rock, expecting that North Carolina would build its link across to the South Carolina border. A second charter was issued in I855 for a Western North Carolina railroad, from Salisbury to some point on the French Broad River beyond the Blue Ridge, and further legislation provided for construction west through the valley of the Pigeon and Tuckaseigee rivers to connect with a point on a projected Blue Ridge Railroad on the Tennessee River. Another provision was for an extension through Madison County to Paint Rock, Tennessee. Surveys were made and the construction began. The road from Salisbury was completed to within a few miles of Morganton when the work was halted by the Civil War. Soon after the war the line was built to Morganton, in I 870 it reached Marion, and by I 873 it was at Old Fort. In I 870 East Tennessee achieved railroad connections with Atlanta and Mobile, and Buncombe County's lucrative trade from the passage of Tennessee livestock over the turnpikes was lost. Asheville needed a railroad desp erately, but the odds were �256 / Part III: A Developing Economy against her. The Western North Carolina Railroad now became a victim of financial difficulties. State aid through the sale of bonds was voted by the General Assembly, but the bonds did not sell for the expected amount because of lack of faith in the state's ability to repay the money. In r871 the Assembly split the Western North Carolina Railroad into the Eastern Division and the Western Division. Corruption in politics swept onto the scene. George W. Swepson, president of the Western Division, paid Milton S. Littlefield, a carpetbag lobbyist in Raleigh, to use his influence in getting votes in favor of the bonds. Littlefield was to have ten per cent of the money raised from their sale, and he spent money lavishly on the members of the Assembly. When an investigation revealed the fraud, Swepson and Littlefield fled the state. Later the Western Division was merged with the Eastern Division. Samuel McDowell Tate, Democratic businessman of Morganton, served as president of the Western North Carolina Railroad intermittently after the Civil War, being the choice of the stockholders but not of W. W. Holden, Republican governor in r866, r869-187r. Tate continued to act as director and as financial agent of the Eastern Division after 1871, and in I 873 he was appointed by the United States Circuit Court as temporary receiver, but after two months he was replaced by William A. Smith, Republican. The troubles ot the road were subjects of political maneuvering by both Republican and Democratic parties in 1874, and in that year Tate was elected to the state House of Representatives from Burke County. In 1875 a coalition was formed between eastern and western· Democrats. Tate submitted a bill by which the Western North Carolina Railroad would be purchased by the state and completed as planned. In return the western representatives would support the calling of a constitutional convention to abolish the local election of county commissioners and justices of the peace, the method that was brought into operation by the carpetbag constitution of r868. Henceforth the holders of these offices were to be chosen by the General Assembly. Thus officeholding by Negroes in the eastern counties could be controlled. Tate's bill was a clever device for getting the East to pay for the railroad. The western members were determined to have their railroad bill passed first. Objections were raised that the western congressional district included I /7 of the area of the state, r/8 of its population, but paid only r/IJ of the taxes. They were �Hear That Whistle Blow! / 2 57 answered by the argument that until people could sell their products and develop their resources they could not pay more taxes and that when rail communications were established with Georgia and Tennessee outside capital would be attracted to the western part of the state. The bill passed the Senate in 1875, and the state issued $85o,ooo worth of new mortgage bonds to be prorated among the various creditors. Western Democrats then supported the bill calling for a constitutional convention. Construction was resumed in 1877 and the General Assembly approved the expenditure of $7o,ooo annually for the work, provided the money was available. Five hundred convicts, most of them Negroes, were assigned to complete the construction. Utilization of convict labor was common in the Southern states at this time, and in North Carolina they had been used in making the cuts for the Spartanburg-Asheville Railroad under a law passed in 1872. Upon completion of the Western North Carolina Railroad to Asheville the prisoners were to be employed in building the lines to Paint Rock and Murphy. In I 877 the road was completed to Henry Station at the foot of the Blue Ridge. Grading had been done beyond that point and some tunnels had been worked on, but little progress had been made. From Old Fort to Swannanoa Gap was a rise of 891.5 feet between two points only three and four-tenths miles apart. Six tunnels ranging from 7 feet to 1,832 feet were needed, and the road was laid out to curve 2, 776 degrees, the equivalent of eight complete circles. All of the work was done by hand by unskilled convicts using pick, shovel, and mule-drawn scrapes and carts. The story of the completion of the road from Henry Station to Asheville is dramatic. For the first time in the South nitroglycerine was used for blasting cuts and tunnels. One cut 450 feet long became known as "Mud Cut." The convicts went down each day to dig the mud out with picks and shovels, but each night it filled with mud again. A dinky engine was used to carry the mud out of the cut. Finally the men and engine won. Another challenge came when the decision was reached that the Swannanoa tunnel must be dug from the western as well as the eastern end and that an engine would be necessary to take the mud and rocks from the tunnel. W. P. Terell, engineer of the little engine "Salisbury" directed the dragging of the engine over the mountain on wooden planks using block and tackle. Mules, oxen, and convicts dragged the engine three miles, �258 / Part III: A Developing Economy lifting it 900 feet in the process. The men laid planks, strained up the mountain over the planks, relaid the planks ahead of the engine, and started again. By taking the engine to the western end of the projected tunnel they cut in half the time required to dig it. The road had been surveyed to follow the courses of streams and thus secure a gradual rise. For an air line distance of three and four-tenths miles the road bed is nine miles. Major James W. Wilson, an original contractor for the work and after 1877 president of the Western North Carolina Railroad, completed the track to Asheville in October r 880. In that year A. B. Andrews became president of the line. By r88o the Democratic Party in North Carolina had come to regret having supported purchase of the Western North Carolina by the state. Construction of the line between Henry Station and Swannanoa Gap had been slow, and "Mud Cut" had been the butt of criticism by eastern newspapers that were preaching economy. Completion of the two extensions to Tennessee would require an increase in state taxes for years to come. Zebulon B. Vance, elected Governor in 1876, had been elevated to the United States Senate in I 879 and Lieutenant Governor Thomas J. Jarvis, promoted to the governorship, hoped to be re-elected in I88o on a platform of economy and of increased state support for public education. When William J. Best, head of a northern financial group, offered to buy the road, pay the state for the $85o,ooo mortgage, and pay $sso,ooo in first mortgage bonds plus compensation to private stockholders, Governor Jarvis called a special session of the General Assembly for March I 5. There was little opposition to the proposal, the bill being passed March 27. Best pledged that the road would be completed to Paint Rock on or before July I, I88r, and to Murphy on or before January I, I885. The new owners were to pay the state an annual rent for each convict employed on the project. Best's associates turned over their interests to the Richmond and Danville Railroad Company, a procedure which had been turned down by the General Assembly in I875· Thus the Western North Carolina Railroad became part of an important trunk line which in I894 was reorganized as the Southern Railway Company, but the dream that the mountain area would share a railroad to the state's Atlantic seaports was blasted. The building of the Western North Carolina Railroad from Old Fort to the crest of the Blue Ridge brought a new life and �Hear That Whistle Blow! / 259 The first Battery Park Hotel, luxurious in its day, on the site of Battery Porter, Civil War fortification ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. new hope to the people of the mountains but at a staggering cost: $2,ooo,ooo for eleven miles of track and the loss of some four hundred lives, almost all of whom were convicts, many having been convicted of such minor crimes as vagrancy and loitering because they had no means of support. Thus this epochal railroad building was yet another example of minority exploitation so prevalent in American History. Construction of the road to Paint Rock was completed in 1882 and through service to Morristown, Tennessee, was opened. The North Carolina part followed the French Broad, and vast amounts of rock had to be moved to provide a road bed. Nitro-glycerine was again used in blasting. It was manufactured near the mouth of Reems Creek and transported in one-gallon jugs in one-horse wagons driven by Negroes along the Buncombe Turnpike to the places needed. After the railroad reached Asheville, many wealthy Northerners came to the resort to spend a few days or weeks, and among the new hotels built for their accommodation was the Battery Park, occupying the site of Battery Porter, the Civil War fortification erected near Asheville. The Battery Park was luxurious, and the view from its many verandas was magnificent as the town was rimmed with mountains. Gay young people residing at the hotel took horseback excursions into the mountains. �260 / Part III: A Developing Economy Hotel at Warm Springs, later renamed Hot Springs. The hotel was enlarged to accomodate the crowds after the railroad reached the town ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. ,. lfWf - The railway station at Hot Springs, typical of the depots along the line Shortly after the completion of the road to the Tennessee line, the management of the hotel at Warm Springs enlarged the establishment, adding one hundred new rooms. "This improvement comprises a western extension, six hundred and fifty feet long, three stories high, verandas to every floor, extending the entire length of the new building, ... presenting a hotel outfit, for accommodation of such a throng of guests, unsurpassed by any Summer and Winter resort in the country." The hotel �Hear That Whistle Blow! J 26I accommodated one thousand guests and was said to be not infrequently full to overflowing. Next the Murphy branch was constructed. When the railroad reached Pigeon Ford, now Canton, in I88I the station there became the shipping point for livestock and a town developed. In I 8 84 when the road reached Waynesville a great celebration was held on April 4· People, many of whom had never seen a train, flocked into town as the first official passenger train came in. New settlements grew up along the line as the road pushed west. Waynesville became a famous resort. In I 879 a large hotel had been built, one-half mile from town, at White Sulphur Springs. Meanwhile a much talked-of road from Spartanburg to Asheville to connect with the one to Tennessee was progressing without state financial support. The legislature of I 8 55 had been railroad conscious. A charter was granted to the Greenville and French Broad Railroad Company to join a road in the course of construction in South Carolina. Not until I873 was work on the line in North Carolina begun in Polk County. This was to be the first railroad to cross the Blue Ridge in North Carolina. The line reached Tryon in 1877, but the route planned proved to be too expensive, necessitating a change, and the next few miles went slowly. It reached Saluda by a climb of six hundred feet in three miles at a maximum grade of more than 220 feet per mile in some places. The "Big Cut" about half way up the mountain was seventy feet in the center and even deeper on the upper side. Convict labor was used on the heavy grades. The town of Saluda was founded while the railroad was under construction and in 1881 it was chartered. It covered a square mile with the railroad in the center. The first train passed through Saluda in 1878. The town became a summer resort, principally for people from Columbia, South Carolina. They were charmed with the wide variety of wild flowers and other plant life afforded by the thermal belt in Polk County and by the mountain scenery. In I 8 85 the town of Tryon was incorporated to extend one-half mile in every direction from the intersection of Pacolet Street with the railroad. A hotel now known as Oak Hall had been built in 1881 and the town had already become a winter resort. These two towns in the same county had such different average temperatures that Tryon attracted winter residents and Saluda served as a summer retreat. The county began to attract more year-round residents. �262 J Part Ill: A Developing Economy In I 874 the planned consolidation of the two railroads was consummated under the name Asheville and Spartanburg Railroad Company, and it finally reached Asheville in 1886. Construction to Hendersonville had been completed by July 4, 1879. On that day notables from Charleston and Columbia were in Hendersonville. Crowds thronged the streets and people opened their homes to the visitors who had come by stage, horseback, buggy, carriage, oxcarts, and on foot. As one train approached from Charlotte and a special came from Spartanburg a cannon was fired and the crowd cheered. Speeches were made by famous men and the local band played. In the oak grove near the station barbecued meat and other foods were served, followed by more speeches. In 1894 the Hendersonville and Brevard Railroad was built. The engines were wood-burning, and fuel was obtained from place to place along the track. After three years' operation the company failed and the road was purchased by J. F. Hayes and associates at a receiver's sale and later was leased to the Southern Railroad. About 1895 Joseph H. Silverstein came to Transylvania County, and in 1901 he and a group of associates built the Toxaway Tanning Company, organized the Gloucester Lumber Company, leased a boundary of several thousand acres of valuable timberlands, and built a large band sawmill. Meanwhile J. F. Hayes, millionaire who came to the "Sapphire country" because of poor health, founded the Brevard Tanning Company, manufacturers of tannic acid, at Pisgah Forest. The tanneries made contracts with owners of tracts of chestnut trees to furnish chestnut wood and tanbark to be made into tannic acid, providing a new source of income from the forested land. However, these contracts were a source of great hardship to those furnishing the bark because the buyer's scales did the weighing and because the bark had to be free from mold and defects. It could be peeled easily only during the spring when rains were frequent and at that time mold was hard to avoid. Other lumber companies followed, and Brevard with three hundred people began to have its first boom. Town lots were selling for three hundred dollars, land in the French Broad Valley was bringing from $25 to $roo per acre, and mountain land from three to ten dollars. There were two trains daily into �Hear That Whistle Blow! I 263 the village. In 1900 J. F. Hayes built the beautiful Franklin Hotel in Brevard. In 1901 he built 540 acre Lake Toxaway in Transylvania County. Soon he erected a rso-room luxury hotel with electric lights, elevators, steam heat, and a power launch to carry guests around the lake. In Jackson County he built the Sapphire and Fairfield Hotels. He catered to the wealthy and it was said that 200 millionaires were guests during the first year of operation. Some of them invested in Western North Carolina developments. Among distinguished guests were the rubber magnate Edward Baccus, Henry Ford, Harvey Firestone, John Burroughs, Thomas Edison, R. J. Reynolds, the Dukes, and the Nunnally family from Atlanta. A band, dancing, boating, study classes for children were provided, and there was an electric car line to connect the resorts of Fairfield and Toxaway. By 1905 there were six trains a day through Brevard during the season, for a few years. By 1907 business was falling off. The Toxaway Company failed in I9II, Fairfield Inn burned, and the 1916 flood destroyed the dam, the hotel closed, and the wealthy guests went elsewhere. In the 1950's the dam and lak.e were rebuilt by a new company, Lake Toxaway Estates, and the company is developing an exclusive mountain-lake residential community, with a new Toxaway Inn as well as houses and boathouses around the lake, making this again a vacation paradise. As late as 1886 it was being written of Rutherford, one of the two oldest counties in the area, "Transportation is by wagon to the railroads of the adjacent counties, and thence to Charlotte, Wilmington, and Charleston." That of course applied to cotton and grain. The livestock went on the hoof. By r 887 Rutherfordton had its railroad. When the Carolina Central Railroad reached that town, a dream of thirty years was realized. Chartered in r 8 55 as the Wilmington, Charlotte, and Rutherfordton Railroad, it received aid from the state and from most of the counties through which it passed. Rutherford County voted bonds to pay for several thousand dollars worth of stock. The work went slowly, but during the Civil War construction was completed to Cherryville. By r88o it had reached Shelby, and by r887 trains were operating to Rutherfordton. General Wilder, who owned the Cloudland Hotel and most of Roan Mountain and had an interest in the Cranberry �264 f Part III: A Developing Economy iron mines, in the 188o's promoted a railroad project to connect the rich coal fields of Southwest Virginia and Eastern Kentucky with the South by a railroad across the mountains from some point on the Ohio River. A similar promotion had been made in the 183o's by Charleston men. This railroad was finally completed in 1915. The Charleston, Cincinnati, and Chicago Railroad Company, commonly called the "Three C's", was chartered by a special act of the Tennessee legislature in I 887 and under the general laws of that state in I 889. The Rutherford Railway Construction Company, chartered by the General Assembly in I 833 to construct a road from Rutherfordton to Pictured above in 1905 in Spruce Pine, N.C. during construction of C linchfield Railroad: mules and wagons at the Clinchfield depot , hauling for MacArthur Brothers, contractors for the construction of the C linchfield Railroad, which ended at Spruce Pine at the time of this picture. In the upper right-hand corner of this picture is a portion of the roof of the depot. Just beyond on the right are two warehouses. All materials and supplies for the job were shipped by rail to the end of the railroad at Spruce Pine until they could be hauled by wagon across the ridge. The warehouses stand where the lower street business houses were later. The four mule team in the foreground is across the location of what became the lower street. The back end of the wagon is about where Belk' s Store now stands. As the camera is pointed it would today take in all the area up to and including the Presbyterian Church and Baker's Resturant of today. Hardly visible near the extreme upper left hand is the edge of the small boardinghouse built by Taylor Phillips, which became Topliff Hotel, whic..h burned. Today's Mayland Market is on the graded-down site. Mr. and Mrs. Fred Sullins had a boarding house, barely visible. They charged 40 cents a day for room and board, including dinner to take on the job. Wages were $1.10 per day for 10 hours work. Roads were just rutted tracks. A 4-mule team could haul only about a ton and it took an expert to hitch up and drive the mules. �Hear That Whistle Blow! f 26 5 the South Carolina line or to Gastonia by way of Shelby, whichever would be the most practical, had started construction, as had the Rutherfordton, Marion, and Tennessee, chartered in 188r. The "Three C's" absorbed these lines, built the road from Camden to Rock Hill and on to Blacksburg. It was in operation by December 1888, and Rutherfordton was the northern terminus of the road from Camden, South Carolina, until the road between Rutherfordton and Marion was completed in 1890. In 1891 the company faced bankruptcy and the road was sold at auction. With the reorganization, four corporations were formed representing Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, and South Carolina. The North Carolina portion from Tennessee went forward gradually, reaching Spruce Pine in Mitchell County in 1902 from Erwin, Tennessee, and by 1905 it had reached Altapass. In 1908 the Carolina, Clinchfield, and Ohio purchased the road and pushed construction to Bostic, South Carolina, and then to Spartanburg by 1909. At that time there were only two buildings in Spruce Pine, on opposite sides of the Toe River. In 1915 the northern terminus was reached at Elkhorn, Kentucky. In 1924 a new company, the Clinchfield Railroad, leased the line for 999 years. The Clinchfield is unique in that it cuts through the mountain barriers. Three and one-half per cent of the entire mileage of 277 miles is inside the fifty-five tunnels one of which is 7,854 feet long. The road passes through a rugged mountain country for almost its total length. It was said to have been the most expensive railroad per mile to build, but it was of vital importance in opening the mountain country through which it passes. When the Asheville ;md Spartanburg was completed to Asheville, most of Northwest North Carolina was still without railroads. In 1882 the Eastern Tennessee and Western North Carolina, a narrow gauge road, reached Cranberry in Mitchell County, where iron mines had been worked for half a century. In I 89 5 the Linville River Railroad was begun, from Cranberry to Pineola, where three brothers named Camp, of Chicago, were engaged in producing lumber and tan bark. Not until 1917 did this railroad reach Boone, Watauga's county seat. In 1887 the Northwestern North Carolina Railroad, which operated between Greensboro and Winston and Salem and was owned by �266 / Part III: A Developing Economy the Richmond and Danville railroad, proposed to continue its line to Wilkesboro or to within a mile of the town if the county of Wilkes would buy $10o,ooo worth of stock. County bonds were approved by the voters and the road was completed by I 890. As there was no railroad in Watauga, Ashe, or Alleghany counties at that time, the new road to Wilkes County meant much to the people of the entire section. At the western terminus, now North Wilkesboro, not more than thirty people lived. The Winston Land and Improvement Company bought the two farms that comprised the area of the present town, and created the town, with streets, alleys, business buildings, a school, an opera house, a bank, and stores. Lots were sold at auction. In 1895 a tannery was started by C. C. Smoot and Sons, North Wilkesboro's first industry. Finally the Norfolk and Western obtained authority for its Virginia-Carolina Railway to construct a road in Ashe County to Jefferson and Elk Cross Roads (now Todd). The road was finished in 1914. An extension of the line was built privately by the Hassinger Lumber Company to transport logs from the Cowles Tract of timber land at the Ashe-Watauga county border to present-day Fleetwood, from whence the Norfolk and Western carried the logs to their destination, the Hassinger band mill in Virginia. After the timber had been cut the track was to have been removed, but a group of business men, chiefly members of the Moretz family, incorporated, bought the right-of-way, leased track and locomotives and extended the little branch to Deep Gap in Watauga County. The train carried, in addition to timber, grain, farm produce, and general merchandise for the company's store at Deep Gap and for the public. The entire railroad with its crew of two, George Burchett, engineer, and Raymond Luther, fireman, ran for six and one-half miles. From 1924 until the Norfolk and Western discontinued its service between Todd and West Jefferson during the depression, the little train carried on. The tracks were taken up in 1932. A number of similar railroads were built in the mountains, serving the needs of the localities until highways took their place. For example Clay and Cherokee counties constructed their own railroad from Andrews to Hayesville for hauling lumber and pulpwood, the Hiwassee Railroad, popularly called the "Peavine." A line from Pigeon River connected the Catalooche Valley with Canton. Livestock no longer had to be driven to market on the hoof, products of truck farmers could be marketed, �Hear That Whistle Blow! / 267 Aerial view of Spruce Pine in 1972, a town created by a railroad. Note the strip mines that mark the nearby mountains HUGH MORTON PHOTO a shrubbery and nursery business grew rapidly. The narrow gauge Chester and Lenoir Railroad which reached Lenoir in I 884 later was made a standard gauge road and was extended to Edgemont at the present Caldwell-Avery county line. Consideration was given to building the East Tennessee and Western North Carolina road from Cranberry to connect with it, thus providing transportation from Johnson City, Tennessee, through Caldwell County and on to Chester, South Carolina, one of the many nebulous railroad projects of the period. Twice the Carolina and Northwestern tracks were washed out by floods, 1916 and 1940. After the 1916 flood they were reconstructed, but by 1940 the line was discontinued, as was the East Tennessee and Western North Carolina between Cranberry and Boone after the flood. The I 9 I 6 flood was disastrous to all of the railroads in Western North Carolina between Marshall and Marion. The Southern Railroad suffered seventy-seven complete breaks between Statesville and Ridgecrest, and seven camps with from two hundred to seven hundred men each were established to rebuild the road. The Clinchfield between Marion and Altapass �268 / Part III: A Developing Economy was destroyed and was out of operation for over a month. All highway bridges over the Catawba were washed out, and only one road into Asheville remained usable, the one from Greenville, South Carolina. In Burke County two ferries were installed until the bridges could be rebuilt. There was pathos and humor, heartbreak and triumph in the songs of the railroad builders, the engineers and the convicts who so dauntlessly thrust the rails up the mountains, who dug the tunnels and built the bridges, who dragged the locomotive up the mountain so the tunnel could be worked at from both ends. All of this romance and travail John Ehle has graphically depicted in his novel The Road. The railroads were the entering wedge driven into the isolation of the mountains. About the railroad there grew up a folk lore and a balladry expressing the hopes and aspirations of the people. The Gospel Train became an image of fundamentalist thought. The "hell-bound train," an express train loaded with sinners and headed for hell on a downhill grade with no brakes and with greased rails, became a part of the folk tradition. Forty or fifty years after the coming of the railroad it was largely replaced by the highways and the trucks, the interstate systems, the throughways, and the parkways. But about them there has grown up no folklore and tradition equal to the romance that the railroad inspired. �CHAPTER THIRTEEN Agriculture The Handbook cif the State of North Carolina prepared by the Department of Agriculture (1893) furnished a description of mountain farms with its inventory of each county's resources and the use of its acreage. The counties still had most of their bnd covered with trees, many of which would fall to the woodman's axe when the railroad came. For instance, 7/8 of Graham, s/6 of Macon, 3/4 of Madison, Mitchell, Polk, Rutherford, and Surry were still forested. Another way of saying this was that Macon County included 39,000 acres of "improved" and 164,000 acres of "unimproved" land, Madison County 69,000 "improved" and 164,000 "unimproved." Farmers were advised that if they would clear their timber they would be richly rewarded and that after they had cleared the land and had taken two or three crops off it should be "suffered to lie at rest" whereupon grass would begin to flourish and fine stock might be produced. The northwestern counties of Ashe, Alleghany, Watauga, Mitchell and Yancey were especially suited to stock raising, and with cultivated grasses "a deep rich lawn" would flourish to the summit of the mountains. Ashe County had already become significant in cattle production, using the Devon or Shorthorn breed which was ideally suited to milk and beef production and work oxen for farm use. Only Buncombe County had more horses than Ashe, and Haywood was third in number of both cattle and horses. Watauga County ranked fourth in cattle and fifth in horses for the area. On every farm were a few hogs and sheep, the hogs for meat and the 269 �270 / Part III: A Developing Economy sheep for wool. They were scarcely counted as wealth, being valued at less than one dollar per head. Throughout the area at least three times as many acres were planted in com as in the next ranking crop, wheat. Com was important for household use for "pone" and for whiskey. It was the principal feed for horses and hogs. It could be planted in land that was full of stumps, and no expensive tools were needed for its cultivation. The school sessions were determined in mountain areas by "before and after fodder." Thomas W. Ferguson wrote in thinking back over those days, "the onearmed system of farming has been employed by ninety per cent of our farmers ... to the impoverishment of their soils. We plowed up our hillsides planting to permanent pasture. We plowed up every foot of our bottom lands ... planting them to corn and other depleting crops." Other cereal grains, oats and rye, were of less importance. Polk and Rutherford counties were planting about one-fourth as many acres to cotton as to com, and Burke had 752 acres in cotton in 1884. It was also experimenting with eight acres of rice. Certain trees were of great importance to the farm family. Chestnuts were gathered for household use and to be traded for necessities, and live stock and turkeys were fattened on the nuts that fell to the ground. The trees were cut for fence rails and posts. They were considered preferable to oak for their durability. So plentiful were the chestnut trees that Margaret Morley observed farmers chopping down trees loaded with ripe chestnuts in order to pick the nuts. With the coming of railroads, new markets were found for the chestnut tree. Early in the twentieth century the chestnut tree blight was noticed. A fungus, it was brought to the United States with a shipment of Asiatic chestnut seedlings, and it attacked American trees, probably first on Long Island. Carried by wind, birds and insects, the blight spread southward along the eastern slope of the Appalachians to southern Alabama and Mississippi. Efforts to stop it were of no avail. Although at first it did not cross the Blue Ridge, by 1924 Ashe and Watauga counties reported a ten percent rate of infection, and by 1940 approximately eightyfive percent of the chestnut trees in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park were affected. By 1965 the loss was complete. Maple sugar was a popular sweetening on mountain farm tables and was traded to local merchants for sale outside the �Agriculture / 271 Chestnut trees throughout the region died, a great economic loss ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO area. It is still being sold in small cakes as a delicacy at gift and craft shops. In the early spring when the sap started to run, the trees were tapped and small wooden spouts inserted, usually on the south side so the sun would strike them during the day and make the sap run faster. About fifty gallons of sap were required to make a gallon of syrup, and a tree would yield about a gallon or a gallon and a half of sap a day. Buckets were hung on the tapped trees, and every day during the sugar making process the sap was collected and taken to the big iron pot where it was boiled down. During this process the syrup had to be watched constantly to prevent scorching. The syrup was transferred to a smaller pot and boiled longer to crystalize into sugar. It was formed into small cakes for ease in handling. Sugar making was often a family diversion, an occasion for camping on high slopes where the sugar maple trees were growing. In the court house descriptions of acreages of land in the nineteenth century, a number of mountain-top tracts were designated as sugar �272 J Part III: A Developing Economy A sorghum mill extracts the juice, which is then boiled down in the iron pot camps. Some of these passed through the hands of a land speculator, William Lenoir of Caldwell County. For each area that he purchased he drew a plat and wrote a history in a notebook. In Ashe County he purchased and then sold a tract to William Horton May 15, 1842, which he designated as Nathan Horton's Sugar Camp. Widespread in the mountains was the making of sorghum molasses. In October the sorghum grower set up his mil~ to crush the juice from the stalks. His horse plodded around and around turning the mill until all the juice was extracted. The juice drained into large kettles or drums which were carried to the boiler, a huge iron pot in which the straw-colored juice was boiled down to the desired thickness so that "they" could be stored in crocks or jugs. Seven gallons of juice were boiled down to one gallon of molasses. Neighbors brought their own crocks and apples, com meal, or potatoes to barter for "them." Molasses was usually used in the plural. The rich and nourishing molasses was a welcome addition to the monotonous winter diet of the mountain people. Apple and cherry orchards grew wonderfully well in the mountains and were set out on most farms until they seemed native to the region. Apples were among the products carried by wagon to market in the rail centers, and many farms had among their various buildings apple houses where the fruit was preserved for family use and for sale later in the season. Almost every farm had its springhouse for keeping milk, meat, and vegetables cool. Prevalent also were smokehouses for preserving meat. Making whisky was an occupation of many mountaineers. �Agriculture / 273 The distillery was as important as the blacksmith shop or the grist mill. Zebulon Baird Vance sold a distillery to Colonel William Lenoir. Many would take their jugs to the still which they called "the grocery." During the Civil War the United States Congress placed a tax on whiskey and required distillers to obtain licenses. After the restoration of the Union, efforts were made to collect the tax in Western North Carolina, and mountain people did not look with favor upon the "revenuers." Violations were frequent. True, most of the counties had their licensed distilleries: Wilkes having fourteen, Burke, Polk, and Surry, five each in 1884. Yet the illicit "stills" became legendary during the 187o's, and words such as "blockaders," for those who marketed the product illegally, and "moonshiners," for those who produced their product at night to escape detection by the "Feds" (revenue officers) became a part of the vernacular. Randolph Abbott Shotwell spent some time at his brother's plantation in the valley of the Green River in Polk County, and he said that " ... having nothing to do, and nothing to read, it was easy to fall into the habit of partaking ... from the big brown jug, which is found in all dwellings in that region. Polk County at that time ... seemed overspread with illicit distillers. Every secluded ravine, every impenetrable brake, was apt to have a sylvan satyr. ... Many of these rusty 'stills,' as they are locally termed, might be concealed in a large barrel, and can, therefore, be quickly removed from place to place to avoid the revenue officers; though ... it was deemed safest by the majority of the distillers to send a few gallons, and a sum of money to the Revenue Headquarters for the district .... Most of the Revenue men grew rich in a wonderfully short period." On the occasion of a visit with a neighbor, Shotwell's host sent a Negro on horseback to "the still over the hill," with two bushels of shelled corn. The distiller sent back one gallon of whiskey, keeping one for toll. Whiskey was made from a fermented solution containing corn meal, sprouted corn, rye meal, and sometimes molasses or sugar. First the corn was spread out and watered to sprout it,. then carefully dried, and ground into malt and mixed with the other ingredients. The solution was cooked, producing a liquid called beer, which was then allowed to ferment, great care being exercised to prevent its becoming vinegar. Next the beer was "run" by being boiled. Attached to the cap of the still was a coil, a piece of copper tubing, the other end being �274 / Part III: A Developing Economy The "moonshiners" hid their stills, but the smoke often gave away their location placed in a container. As the beer in the still boiled the steam condensed in the coil and passed on to the container. This product, called "singlings," was put back into the cleaned still and the process was repeated, called "doubling." The result was whiskey. Its alcoholic content, "proof," was determined by the size of the bubbles formed on the surface when a small sample was poured into a vial. After the "doubling" the liquid was allowed to flow from the condenser until the whiskey in the container was of the desired proof, 100 proof (so% alcohol), or 8o proof (40% alcohol). When Carl A. Schenck, Vanderbilt's forester, tried to buy the holdings of the moonshiners in the Pisgah Forest, he found that they were the least likely to sell out of any of the residents: "These men in their own interests were most anxious to remain, because moonshining was possible only in the proximity of cold and remote mountain springs .... They had their liquor distilleries in the mountain coves, and shifted them from site to site to avoid discovery. They went about armed, keeping the others in awe and threatening death to any betrayer of their �Agriculture / 275 secret .... If the sheriff actually seized a still and took it home with him, he never fully destroyed it; he merely shot some holes through the copper kettle with his revolver and allowed the kettle to be stolen from his yard in the hope of seizing it a second time and getting a second reward from the federal government. Both the better element and the sheriff were afraid of the moonshiner." Brandy too was distilled from the fruit that abounded in the Southern Highlands, and "cherry bounce," as well, had a fame that was widespread. Cherry Mountain was some miles from Rutherfordton and the same distance from Morganton, Marion, and Shelby, from all of which towns there were frequent parties in the month ofJune each year. The top of the mountain lies within a thermal belt, so the fruit is rarely killed by frost, and the enormous quantities of cherries attracted visitors from all the surrounding country. Sometimes as many as two or three hundred young men, women, and children - whole families- met in the orchards on the same day, especially on Thursdays and Saturdays. "The meeting on Cherry Mountain on the second Saturday in June ... was largely attended; persons from Shelby, Marion, Rutherfordton, and other points being present. A good deal of Amos Owen's "cherry bounce" was imbibed by the crowd," reported M. L. White, Owens' biographer. Amos Owens owned Cherry Mountain, where the cherry trees grew three feet in diameter. His poplar, chestnut, and sourwood trees produced excellent blossoms for honey. From honey, cherry juice, and whiskey Amos made the cherry bounce. Amos served in the Confederate Army, after which he returned home and resumed his distilling without the required legal formalities. For over forty years he made whiskey, and during that time he served four years in prison, one for Ku Klux Klan activities and twice for moonshining. His biographer says that the judge, before passing sentence, chided: "Amos Owens, stand up, ... why will you persist in your lawless course? Look at me, I am sixty years of age, was never drunk, and have never incurred the woe pronounced against him that putteth the bottle to his neighbor's lips. What have you to say, why the sentence of the law should not be pronounced upon you?" Amos cocked one eye, cleared his throat, and with mock solemnity, said, "Well, Judge, you have missed a durned lot of fun if you hain't never made, drunk, nor sold licker." �276 / Part III: A Developing Economy Farmers were eagerly awaiting the railroads, and farm products changed as soon as transportation became available, even at a distance. When the narrow gauge Chester and Lenoir Railway reached Lenoir in r884, Watauga County farmers began growing a surplus of cabbage and potatoes; as early as I 882 it was reported that "on the turnpike at any given point a covered wagon or so is seldom out of sight." In r886, 8oo crates of cabbage and 3,ooo crates of apples were shipped from Lenoir. The following year during November and December the following were shipped: I 356 crates of apples, I078 crates of cabbage, 364 crates of potatoes, 657 sacks of chestnuts. Thirtytwo thousand feet of lumber were used to make the crates alone. It was reported that on one acre in Watauga County two hundred dollars worth of cabbage was raised. The great new crop of the area was tobacco, the bright leaf variety. Surry County led with 2,136 acres planted in r884, but mountainous Madison County was second with I ,626 acres, and Buncombe was third with 947 acres. Every county in Western North Carolina had at least one tobacco farm. Production per acre ranged from 200 pounds in Cherokee County to 503 in Madison County. Zeigler and Grosscup in I882 estimated Madison County's yield as equal to $250,000 or $200 per acre. W. W. Rollins of that county had sixty tenant farmers engaged in growing tobacco. "It is in tobacco that the Madison County farmer has found his Eldorado," Zeigler and Grosscup wrote. Uncleared land could be purchased for three dollars per acre, and a tract of one and one-half acres when cleared could be planted, cultivated, and harvested by a man and two small boys for a harvest worth $900. According to Nanny May Tilley the tobacco crop spread from Catawba County to Burke County in 1875 when J. K. Bobbitt planted the first crop. A warehouse was opened in Hickory in I88o by the Hall Brothers, who distributed pamphlets explaining tobacco culture and the advantages of the tobacco crop. One was the small bulk, which would facilitate transportation. In Buncombe County experiments in tobacco production had begun earlier, perhaps as early as 1854, but not until I878 did tobacco become an important crop. In r88o Asheville had four tobacco warehouses that handled 7,ooo,ooo pounds of the leaf, and Madison County had one warehouse. Alas, by the end of the century the crop had gone into eclipse in most of the counties. Some farmers who in the I88o's had twenty or �Agriculture / 277 thirty tobacco barns by 1896 had none. Various explanations have been offered. Tilley believed that the rank flavor of the mountain tobacco was unsuited to cigarettes, which had become very popular. The crop of the coastal plain was milder and in greater demand. Haywood County persisted in bright leaf tobacco culture until 1904, after which for a period of twenty years or so no more was planted. Then in 1923 burley tobacco was introduced in Haywood by Thurmond Haynes, who sold his crop in Greeneville, Tennessee. By 1925 every county in Western North Carolina except Alleghany, Ashe, Avery, Polk, and Watauga was growing burley tobacco on a commercial basis. Again Madison County became the leader, planting 2,500 acres in 1925. In 1929 Ott Tester, a former resident of North Carolina, brought from Tennessee plants which he planted in Watauga County, producing 8oo pounds per acre, which sold at 21.2¢ per pound. By 1958 Watauga County ranked sixth in burley production in Western North Carolina with a crop that sold for $1,04o,ooo. A tobacco warehouse and auction was opened in Boone in 1939. The problem in establishing a tobacco warehouse was to persuade the tobacco companies to send buyers. The Boone experience will illustrate. The project started through the activities of local leaders. Mr. S. C. Eggers became discouraged at having to haul his tobacco to Greeneville, Tennessee, to sell it. One morning he began taking pledges from Boone citizens, and within three hours he had $35,000 promised for the construction of a tobacco warehouse. Then came a time of tension. A committee consisting ofBlandord Dougherty, President of Appalachian State Teachers College, Harry Hamilton, E. F. Lovill, attorney, and Congressman Robert Daughton sought and obtained the promise of Will Reynolds of the Reynolds Tobacco Company to send buyers if the other tobacco companies would do so. After offering considerable resistance, Major Bullington of the American Tobacco Company reluctantly agreed to send buyers to Boone. The warehouse when completed was leased to the Hardy Brothers of Mullins, South Carolina. Through the influence of Robert Daughton a warehouse was established in Ashe County and eventually a second one was added. In 1958 Ashe County produced 2,218,ooo pounds of tabacco which sold for $1,426,ooo. Daughton's own county Alleghany has never produced as much tobacco as Ashe and Watauga. Buncombe and Madison counties were the leading �278 f Part III: A Developing Economy A field of tobacco, the money crop of mountain farmers ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Tobacco is auctioned in large warehouses ASH EVILLE C HAMBER OF C OMME RCE PHOTO �Agriculture / 279 burley producers. In 1965 there were four warehouses in Asheville. Ashe County was third in production of burley and Yancey ranked next, followed by Haywood and Watauga respectively. Since 1940, acreage allotments have been in effect. In 1961 the average allotment for farms growing burley was six-tenths of an acre, and the harvest was worth $1 s,ooo,ooo. Allotments ranged from one-tenth of an acre to several acres. By 1958 TOBACCO ALLOTMENT DATA FOR 1968 County No. offarms Acreage Allotment Rank in state Burley Tobacco Alleghany Ashe Avery Buncombe Burke Caldwell Cherokee Clay Graham Haywood Henderson Jackson McDowell Macon Madison Mitchell Polk Rutherford Surry Swain Transylvania Watauga Wilkes Yancey County Burke Caldwell Surry Wilkes 540 2,535 247 2,946 14 !9 194 217 685 1,917 IIO 285 70 238 2,809 963 6 55 7 215 72 1,663 8 1,795 No. o_ffarms 265 J,062 930 218.73 1,046-56 !08.35 1,400.65 447 6.74 68.64 84-53 301.51 947-22 42-47 107.85 24-56 76.80 2,066.71 470-36 I.75 23-46 0.94 70.18 23.13 727.75 1.83 983.05 Flue-Cured Tobacco Acreage Poundage 822 ·48 682,635 405-96 9,287.81 16,790,906 I,30I.66 2,073,603 9 3 JI 2 21 20 15 !2 8 5 r6 10 18 13 7 24 I9 27 14 17 6 23 4 Rank in state 68 59 18 49 Source: "North Carolina Tobacco Report, 1967-1968," Bulletin of the North Carolina Department of Agriculture No. 191, May, 1968, pp. 22, 20. �280 / Part III: A Developing Economy several counties were producing more than 2,000 pounds per acre, Watauga County's 2,108 being the highest yield in Western North Carolina. In that year the highest prices were received in Buncombe and Madison counties, sixty-five cents per pound. In 1968 the yield in Watauga County was 2,626 pounds per acre. Burley is planted in a seed bed in early spring as is bright leaf tobacco, and the successive stages of work are similar for both varieties, but the curing is different. Plants are usually cut by whole stalks, allowed to wilt overnight, then staked in the field for two or three days for further wilting before being hung high in well-ventilated barns with the stalks head down to air cure. The latter part of November the leaves are stripped from the stalks, graded, and tied into "hands," several leaves together, and taken to market for auction. The money from the burley crop comes along just in time for taxes and extra winter expenses. Many of the farmers now work away from their farms and fit the chores connected with their tobacco crop into evening and Saturday work. Each ofthe counties in Western North Carolina in 1964 had hundreds of part-time farms, ranging from 128 in Clay County to 837 in Ashe County. From Buncombe's 2,471 farms, 1,o8o farm operatives work off their farms one hundred or more days each year. Figures are similar for Wilkes and Ashe counties. Tobacco is well-suited to part-time farming. Agricultural cooperatives had been organized by the Grange in the 187o's in some parts of the nation but not in Western North Carolina. Farm periodicals emphasized their benefits during the following decade. Wilkes County promoters discovered the value of these associations for agricultural development when in 1912 they organized the United Fruit Growers of Western North Carolina in the interest of growing apples commercially. In 1925 an editorial in the Winston-Salem]ournal read: "Nowhere in Eastern America are finer apples to be found than in the Wilkes County thermal belt. In a given area lying along the sides and top of the Brushy Mountains there is a strange atmospheric condition which wards off frosts and guards the young buds of fruit trees from cold while in a premature stage." The "thermal belts" and "verdant zones" on mountain slopes are suited to fruit production because they enjoy longer frost- �Agriculture / 281 free growing seasons than areas higher up the slopes and lower in the valleys. A thermal belt results from the drainage of cold air down a slope into a valley where it further cools by radiation or losing its heat to space. Thus there is a belt through the Brushy Mountains, the South Mountains, and on south through the Blue Ridge in Polk, Rutherford, and Henderson counties where above freezing weather exists between sub-freezing temperatures on both higher and lower elevations on the hillsides. One problem of apple culture is storage until the price is good. The Brushy Mountain Fruit Cooperative Corporation, organized in 193 I, and the Fruit Growers' Association, organized in 1936, were aided by the Carolina Refrigeration Cooperative Association which constructed storage facilities for apples and meat. Encouraged by the county agents, similar cooperatives were organized throughout Western North Carolina. While most of them were short lived, they led the way to specialized crops that were particularly adapted to the soil and climatic conditions. Henderson County in 1960 led the state in the production of apples, with 2oo,ooo bearing trees and about ro,ooo new ones coming into production each year. In 1962 the crop was valued at $2,8oo,ooo. The county had fourteen packing houses and three processing plants, the newest of which was constructed by the Western North Carolina Apple Packing Cooperative. More than r,soo people worked in harvesting and processing the crop. Apple trees will grow on soil unsuited to truck farming, another of Henderson County's specialities. Each year Hendersonville holds a five-day North Carolina Apple Festival, ending with a King Apple Parade on Labor Day. A queen and her court are elected and visiting queens from other festivals participate in the activities, which include folk music, square dancing, tours of apple orchards, and a coronation ball. North Carolina has 762 commercial apple orchards (ones with roo or more trees) of which 622 are in the mountain counties. Haywood and Mitchell counties also have extensive commercial apple orchards. Polk and Rutherford Counties are producers of peaches. Except in occasional years when late spring freezes ruin the crop, the mountain area produces almost one-fourth as many peaches as the sand hill counties of the piedmont. The Extension Division of North Carolina State University operates the Mountain Horticultural Crops Research Station �282 / Part III: A Developing Economy Burley tobacco is staked in the field to start the wilting process before hanging it in the barns to air-cure. Note the ever-present church ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO Apples grow well on the mountains. An orchard in bloom is a magnificent sight ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO �Agriculture / 283 in Henderson County. A staff of six scientists experiment with crops that will help all farmers in Western North Carolina to diversify their acreage. Such scientific studies are the culmination of efforts by federal, state, and local organizations to aid farmers in their methods of production and marketing. At first the farmers' organizations had little influence in Western North Carolina. They did not have much appeal to subsistence farmers. Their warehouse movement and cooperative idea, as mentioned above, were taken up where commercial farming was begun. In Buncombe County the Farmers' Federation was organized in 1921 by a group of farmers under the leadership of James G. K. McClure to purchase and distribute farm supplies and market products grown commercially. One warehouse was built, then another, until by 1928 there were eight warehouses operating in four counties. Sixteen trucks were acquired for wholesale and retail delivery service, thus relieving farmers of the necessity of doing their own trucking. When the Grange was revived in the South about 1930 a new interest in commercial farming developed. At the demands of some of the more progressive farmers, county boards of commissioners provided the matching funds necessary to employ the county agents of the Extension Service, and the men chosen for those positions came to be among the most important figures in their respective counties. County "farm bureaus" sprang up to work with the county agents, but as the members were largely the commercial farmers, the "hoe farmers" were scarcely influenced by the organization movement of the 1920's. The depression of the 193o's was not felt as much by the self-sufficient rural people of Western North Carolina as it was in industrial areas. The income of the former had always been very low, and their homes and farms lacked the conveniences of an urban or suburban society, but the farms were almost completely owner operated, and food and fuel were as readily available as they had ever been. By 1920 51.2% of the population of the United States had moved to urban areas, and since that time rural population has diminished until in 1969 the farm population was just 5.2% of the total. Although Western North Carolina remained comparatively rural, the trend was felt in the out-migration which between 1950 and 1960 amounted to 33% of the people �284 / Part III: A Developing Economy in Swain County and over 20% in ten other counties. As late as 1960 only twelve of the twenty-four counties had areas classified by the census bureau as urban. Much of the rural acreage was being retired from farming. In 1959 43% of the land in the twenty-four counties was included in farms while in 1964 only about 35% was included. At the same time farm size was increasing, the average acreage in 1954 being 62 while in 1964it was So. The numberoffarmsin Western North Carolina decreased from 52,161 in 1954 to 42,607 in 1959 and 29,955 in 1964. From 1954 when the area had 9,317 farms of less than ten acres, to 1964, the number of such farms had dwindled to 2,575; farms of r,ooo or more acres increased from So in the area in 1954 to 96 in 1964. With these changes farming had become more specialized and dairying increased, especially near the cities and towns. Buncombe County was second in the state in dairying in 1954, and Henderson, Haywood, and Ashe counties ranked high. By 1964 the leading producers of dairy products ranked in the following order: Buncombe, Henderson, Alleghany, Haywood, Macon, Madison, Ashe, Yancey, and Surry. Alleghany has risen to third rank. Cheese making had been experimented with in Ashe County beginning in 1915 at Grassy Creek. The Dairy Extension Service of the North Carolina Department of Agriculture was promoting the establishment of cheese factories in several counties in the western part of the state. A number of the factories were opened in Ashe County and considerable enthusiasm developed there before W odd War One and poor roads for transportation of milk and cheese combined to bring an end to the experiment. Eventually the Kraft-Phoenix Creamery established a large plant in West Jefferson, buying from Ashe County farmers about r ,5oo,ooo pounds of milk per month in the spring, summer, and fall, and 75,000 pounds per month in winter, for manufacture into cheese. Carnation, Pet, and Coble dairies also bought milk from the farms in Ashe County. Ashe County leads the state in the production of fine beef cattle, the quality of which was improved when the State Board of Agriculture purchased several fine pure-bred bulls which were leased to responsible breeders of beef cattle. Haywood is a close rival to Ashe in the production of high grade beef cattle. It has been known for the quality of its herds since the introduction of Durham or Shorthorn cattle in the r88o's. Robert Plott introduced Angus cattle and T. Lenoir Gwyn established a fine �Agriculture / 28 5 Pure-bred livestock fatten on the lush g rass of the mountain balds in Ashe and Alleghany Counties- scene along the Blue Ridge Parkway HUGH MORTON PHOTO breeding herd of registered Herefords, these two herds forming a foundation for the excellence of Haywood County's beef cattle. Later Guernseys were brought in from Wisconsin by by H. 0. Osborne to establish records in the production of milk and butter fat. The North Carolina Department of Agriculture operates two veterinary diagnostic laboratories in Western North Carolina, one at Murphy and the other at Waynesville, to aid �286 / Part III: A Developing Economy in the area's livestock production. Since 1908 the Mountain Research Station has been operated jointly by the North Carolina Department of Agriculture and the North Carolina State University Experiment Station, first at Swannanoa in Buncombe County and since 1944 on a 354 acre tract in Haywood County. Research is conducted in dairying, with a modem milking parlour, a lounging bam, a forty-stanchion conventional bam, a calf bam, a dry-cow barn, and silos. Poultry research is carried on with automatic incubators, a modem egg-cooling room, a broiler house, a laying house, a breeding house, and a 3 r/2 acre poultry range. Efforts are made to find superior lines for broiler and egg production, and nutritional studies are carried on. Burley tobacco research is provided with three curing barns and a tobacco grading and pack house. Deaa W. Colvard, a native of Ashe County with degrees from Berea College and two universities, worked with the Extension Service in Western North Carolina. With W. B. Austin, a member of the State Board of Agriculture, he established the Upper Mountain State Farm Experiment Station in Ashe County. Colvard, now Chancellor of the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, served as first superintendent of the station in Ashe County. Since 1910 poultry and eggs have come to be an important item of farm production, with Wilkes County leading all others in the region, ranking second in the state in 1954. In 1919 a LEADING POULTRY PRODUCING COUNTIES IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA 1954 Wilkes Buncombe Clay Surry Henderson Caldwell Rutherford Cherokee Macon Watauga Haywood Ashe 1964 $4,108,ooo 1,620,000 686,000 642,000 491,000 482,000 435,000 420,000 404,000 $19,53 7,019 2,748,675 1,885,894 4,708,043 517,082 1,551,102 700,223 1,654,281 816,222 994,263 902,917 1,397,120 Source: County and City Data Book, 1965. �Agriculture / 287 World War One veteran T. 0. Minton began producing baby chicks by incubator and established Champion Poultry Farm, which became the largest one in the entire South, marketing both fryers and eggs. Other Wilkes County men became commercial producers, and the North Carolina Mutual Hatchery Association was organized. In 1954 Wilkes County's poultry and poultry products brought a return of $4,108,ooo. In that year Lovette's Holly Farms Poultry Company, one of the largest of its kind in the world, was organized. In 1960 it paid out to poultry growers about $1s,ooo,ooo. It has a national and an international market. There is a trend toward diversification of crops and emphasis on truck farming, but corn is still the principal field crop in Western North Carolina. Although the acreage has steadily diminished, the production per acre has increased remarkably. In 1925 Transylvania County produced an average of 25 bushels per acre, the highest yield in the region, and Burke County produced only 13 bushels, the lowest yield; in 1960 Watauga County had the highest rate of production, 65 bushels per acre, Transylvania County produced 59. I bushels per acre, and Burke 49 bushels. Rutherford County was lowest in the region with 40 bushels. Rural electrification, which brought new conveniences to the entire area resulted from the creation of the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA). Most of the activities of the TVA, which included social planning, educational experimentation, and relocation of families, did not greatly affect Western North Carolina. The Rural Electrification Authority of the federal government, formed in 1935, granted loans to rural cooperatives to furnish electric power to parts of the lower South. The state was stimulated to create the North Carolina Rural Electrification Authority to encourage the building of rural power lines. By 1951 85% of the farms in the state were supplied with electric power, and by 1961 the figure had increased to 97%- The areas not being served by the Duke Power Company, the Nantahala Power Company, and the Carolina Power Company, �288 / Part III: A Developing Economy Shocks in the field. Corn is grown on practically all mountain farms ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO or by locally owned establishments were provided with power purchased from the TV A by the cooperatives, which are owned by the consumers of the power. There are four TVA lakes in Western North Carolina: Hiwassee built in the late 1930's and three built during W odd War Two to step up power supply - Fontana, Appalachia, and Chatuge. Chatuge and Appalachia are on the Hiwassee River farther down than the Hiwassee Dam; Fontana is on the Little Tennessee between Graham and Swain counties. Santeetlah and Tapoco on the Cheoah River in Graham County were constructed earlier by the Tallassee Power Company, now Tapoco, Incorporated. The lakes were designed chiefly for hydroelectric power, but flood control and recreational use were also projected. Not all mountain residents appreciate the TVA for two reasons: vast acreages once under private development, in many cases owned by householders, were purchased at prices which the sellers found inadequate to purchase similar land elsewhere; and the production of power necessitates the drawdown of water in the lakes which sometimes curtails their recreational and aesthetic value. Nevertheless the TVA has participated in hundreds of demonstration projects such as farm and woodland manage- �Agriculture / 289 ment, fire prevention activities, reforestation, and forest products conferences. The TVA makes payments in lieu of taxes, which are transferred to the counties where its properties are located. Leaders in those counties frequently raise the objection to this practice that the same land under private development would be subject to much higher taxes and thus bear a greater share of the counties' fixed expenses. The impact of the TV A in the development of land and forest resources has not been as great as might have been expected, and residents of the counties concerned have mixed emotions concerning the project. Electric power is now available to all, but people feel that they have paid dearly for its use in giving up land that in most cases had been owned by their families for generations. They especially resent the fact that land in their counties today is selling for many times what they were paid for theirs. Regional planning agencies complain that the TV A has not exercised the wide scale influence envisioned for it - to improve all aspects of the life of the region. Community land and water development is receiving increased attention in Western North Carolina. A district is organized for a designed watershed. Aid is sought from such services as the Soil Conservation Service, Agricultural Extension Service, Agricultural Stabilization and Conservation Service, county schools, county boards of commissioners, vocational agriculture teachers, the Soil and Water Conservation Committee, Farmers Home Administration, North Carolina Division ofForestry, the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, utilities companies, lumber and pulpwood industries. More and more land is passing out of the hands of farmers and into the possession of promoters of various kinds. The fact that 2,598,ooo acres in Western North Carolina were included in farms in 1959 and only 2,pr,ooo in 1964 illustrates the changing nature ofland use in the mountains. The 272,000 acres had been diverted to other uses, such as golf courses, resorts, and industrial plants with accompanying suburban development providing homes for those who had migrated from farms to live near their work. Many farm families supplement their incomes by work related to the increasing year-round recreation development in the mountains: the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, the Blue Ridge Parkway, ski slopes, lakes, camp sites, hunting and fishing sites, youth camps, and cottage and room rental. This kind of development offers the greatest promise of well-being to much of the area beyond the Blue Ridge. It is the culmination �290 J Part III: A Developing Economy of more than a century of effort to bring the poor in health, the summer resident, the tourist, the retired couple, to the mountains, and the more recent effort to attract and develop industry and to provide for participation in active sports. In 1970 in the coves and in the hills there are still those who scratch out a meager existence on their little farms. Their "cash money" comes from their fraction of an acre of tobacco allotment. Many farmers are prosperous. They use business methods, planned agriculture, scientific farming, the advice of county agents, the help of the United States Department of Agriculture and the extension services of North Carolina State University. They have tractors, planters, balers- modern machinery. They use the best fertilizers and contour plowing. They use every means possible to prevent erosion. Many make a business of breeding and raising beef cattle for the market, white-face Herefords and Black Angus. Others are highly successful producers of thousands of chickens and eggs. These commercial farmers are prosperous, highly respected and influential members of their communities. Their future is promising. The subsistence farmers need means to supplement their incomes. Local, state, and national agencies are working and planning to provide a better life for the people of the mountains. Great progress has been made. Consolidated schools and technical training are increasing the economic competence of the children of the mountain people. �CHAPTER FOURTEEN Timber! As settlers pushed into Western North Carolina, they found almost unbroken forest except on some of the mountain tops characterized as "balds," where there was only grass or shrubbery. Naturalists have estimated that in the mountains of North Carolina were as many as one hundred kinds of trees. In the highest forests, above four thousand feet in altitude, were black spruce and balsam. The oaks predominated in altitudes up to twenty-five hundred feet, and with them were mixed the shortleaf pine, the hickory, the black gum, and the red maple. Between twenty-five hundred and thirty-five hundred feet the oaks decreased and the yellow poplar, hemlock, birch, beech, ash, black walnut, and cherry predominated. Under the trees shrubs, principally rhododendron and mountain laurel, formed a dense growth. People told of walnut trees with a diameter of eight feet, and of wild cherry trees reaching a height of sixty feet to the first limb and with a diameter of four feet, as well as hickory, maple, ash, and yellow locust of prodigious size. Throughout the forests were countless numbers of the lordly and productive chestnut trees which furnished not only wood but food for man and beast. Although the forest was thought of as an obstacle to home building, it was the chief resource of the people. In a small way the early settlers were all lumbermen. Their principal tool was the axe, with which they marked their trails and chopped the trees for logs to build their cabins and for fuel. They girdled, cut, and burned the trees they wanted to get rid of. They were as apt to build their 291 �292 f Part III: A Developing Economy rail fences of choice black walnut as of pine or oak if the walnut was handier. They burned the woodlands so their livestock would have better pasturage. Primitive cabins gave way as soon as possible to more commodious double log houses, to which additional rooms were added from time to time, and a collection of log buildings served various purposes: as barns, corn cribs, spring houses, smoke houses. Porches were added to the houses, and in many cases weatherboarding was applied to the exterior and sawed paneling to the interior. The simplest way to make boards for this purpose was to select a tall straight tree near an open space in the woods, and to cut it with a cross-cut saw. The tree was then sawed into lengths of from three to four feet and each was split into boards of the desired thickness, by use of a froe, a long blade made of iron or steel. The froe was driven into the end of the length of wood with a maul or mallet. Much longer and smoother boards could be made by sawing them, but the process was slow. The log was mounted on a scaffold, and two men with a long saw, one man above the log and one under it, would take a slice from each side of the log until a square was formed. Then one end was marked into the desired widths, one-fourth being allowed for the kerf, the saw incision. Two men could saw about one hundred feet oflumber in a day. For making furniture or coffins this method was used. The lumber was sometimes sawed at combination saw and grist mills. As late as I 884 Alleghany County had nine of these mills and Buncombe County had fourteen. The two were operated by water power from the same dam, and frequently stores and carpenter shops were adjuncts, as at Alexander's mill on the French Broad. The water power was produced by mountain streams, small but steady, which filled the millponds. Such ponds, covering about an acre of land, had dams of log cribwork covered with rough boards. One sawmill had a millrace several hundred feet long which carried the water to the wheel. The wheel had pockets into which the water flowed from the race, turning an eccentric which had been attached to the wheel. The eccentric pushed up and down, operating a vertical frame in which a saw was affixed. The log and saw were put in place and the water did the work of cutting the smooth boards. Another water driven sawmill had a wooden shaft attached to the water wheel. At the end of the shaft was a crank assembly. The crank was attached to a long saw with the teeth all pointing downward. The log �Timber! / 293 A better log house ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. to be sawed was placed on a carriage with flanged wheels, which could be pushed or pulled on wooden rails. The men would push the carriage and log up against the saw, which went up and down, cutting the boards. Two men could cut about one thousand feet of lumber per day by this method. Steam sawmills were being introduced in Western North Carolina in the 188o's. Dr. J. B. Weaver had one in Asheville and both Noah Spainhour and R. L. McGhinnis owned steam mills in Lenoir, as did Edwards and Edwards in Hendersonville. Mitchell County had three, owned respectively by A. Job, and Baker and Buchanan of Elk Park, and J. B. Surles of Bakersville. The sleds so often used on hillside farms and on rough trails, the wagons, and many of the tools were made of wood. On the trails it was sometimes necessary to rough-lock the sleds to keep them from getting out of control. To do this, hickory saplings or log chains were wrapped around the runners to create friction. Wagons too were rough-locked by fouling the wheels so they could not turn, the vehicle being slid down the steep hill without accident. Small home tanneries provided the leather for shoes, saddles, and harnesses. Almost every community had a tannery, and most county seats had at least one saddle and harness maker. �294 / Part III: A Developing Economy The bark and wood of the chestnut yielded tannin, used in tanning leather. John T. Staton of Saluda, in Polk County, typified the village shoemaker. He was also a blacksmith, and when anybody died he made the coffin to bury him. Later tanneries offered employment to numbers of people. In the 188o's the supply of timber in Maine, Michigan, and other Northern forests diminished and lumbermen from those areas came to the Southern Appalachians, scouring the area for choice timber. There were still tracts of virgin forest in areas where no roads had been built and where the inhabitants were few. Such an area was the Pink Bed Valley at the headwaters of the South Fork of the Mills River, a tributary of the French Broad. Randolph Shotwell and a companion hunted in the Pink Beds in 1870. They spent a night with G. W. (Wash) Holden, who owned a fine bottom land on Hominy Creek, with farm, sawmill, and store. Mr. Holden escorted them to the Pink Beds, a trip of seven or eight miles of continual climbing followed by a descent into a valley by a slippery rock path, to the Hunters' Cabin. Erected for the use of hunters and cattle herders, it was a mere log hut, with a slab floor and a gigantic chimney, near the middle of the Pink Beds, a valley "two or three miles wide and twelve miles long surrounded by lofty mountains." Shotwell said the valley was fairly carpeted with a species of wild flowers of pinkish hue, above which grew immense beds of whortleberries studded with laurel blossoms and sweet-scented honeysuckle. Probably the pink blossoms were kalmia or mountain laurel; the "laurel" was rhododendron, and the "honeysuckle" was wild azalea. Shotwell described the forest timber which covered most of the valley as "lofty and vigorous beyond anything I have seen in Western North Carolina. A single trunk of a monster pine, I recollect as above five feet through at the distance of thirty feet from the stump." In I 896 the first forestry school was established in the Pink Beds. The name "Pink Beds" was given by the pioneers to the tract that still bears the name. Before settlers came, cattle were allowed to graze there in summers, the owners being farmers along the French Broad. In this secluded area the cattle would not stray far nor damage cultivated fields, and fences were not needed. When fall came the cattle were removed on the hoof, and most were sold in South Carolina and Georgia. In the �Timber! / 29 5 A timber sled used in skidding logs and for other hauling purposes on steep hillsides ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO winters when the cattle were gone, the deer came down from the ridges and the farmers again made their way to the Pink Beds, this time to hunt. Often bears were killed there too. No families lived there, and only a few rude cabins for shelter for hunters and drovers had been built. Later a few settlers did move into the area, the most prominent being Hiram King, who built a two-story frame house and operated a water-powered saw and grist mill. �296 / Part III: A Developing Economy The Pink Beds from the Blue Ridge Parkway Hiram King House in the Pink Beds - U.S . FOREST SERVICE PHOTO restored The lumbermen purchased large tracts of standing trees to be cut later, owners sometimes retaining their land, at other times selling outright. The price ofland shot up: one five thousand acre tract of land that had been offered for sale at $750 in 1879 brought $10,000 from the Carolina Spruce Company in 1911. Such land sales promised employment for mountain men as woodsmen. They were needed to fell and trim the trees and �Timber! / 297 to work as mill crews. One of the first markets was for railroad ties. Then after the railroads were in operation, lumber could be shipped to cities in regions where the supply had been exhausted. Sawmills began to multiply rapidly and steam saws became common. Generally no thought was given to a future crop, and the forests were damaged irreparably. One of the most difficult parts of lumbering was to get the logs from the mountainsides to the sawmills. In some places narrow-gauge railroads were built and equipped with Shay locomotives and McGiffert log loaders. The railroad line was laid beside a stream, gradually ascending the ridge. Where the terrain became steep, the track was laid back and forth across the hillsides, the trains alternately going backward and forward to ascend the grades. Sometimes splash dams were constructed of logs to accumulate sufficient water to float the logs down the mountain streams. When such a dam was opened the large flow of water thus released carried the logs to the mill. A boom was built in the Catawba River near Hickory by some owners of a band sawmill. They bought logs in the mountains and had them delivered by water to their boom, until it was broken by a flood and their logs floated down to the Atlantic Ocean. The men learned to fasten their boom securely at the riverbanks so that it would not break when the water rose. Early in the twentieth century a survey of the area between the Blue Ridge and the Unaka Mountains by H. B. Ayers and W. W. Ashe of the U.S. Geological Survey and the U.S. Division of Forestry estimated that ten billion board feet of log timber had been destroyed in land clearing, five billion board feet had been used locally in the construction of farm buildings and fences, and only three billion board feet had reached a market. An additional drain of about I, 272,000 cords of small timber went into fuel each year. The residual stand of merchantable timber was being culled by loggers who took only the more valuable trees.* Severe erosion of hillside farms, evidence of fires on eighty per cent of the forested areas, and widespread damage from open range grazing of livestock were reported. One * Rebecca Cushman, "Seed of Fire," book-length typescript, tells of an interview with Granville Calhoun who had represented the Whiting Lumber Company in Swain County. The company, chartered in Delaware, was officially named the Graham County Land and Transport Company. Calhoun told Miss Cushman about lumbering on Hazel Creek, now a part of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and the influence of the lumbermen on the Hazel Creek community in which he had grown up. �298 / Part III: A Developing Economy authority wrote, "Present conditions in the commercial and industrial world and in the Southern Alleghanies point to the rapid destruction of the virgin woods." Asheville and the surrounding area provided a market for much lumber because of the prodigious growth following the completion of the railroads to the town. During the 188o's country estates were being built near Asheville on a grand scale. Senator Vance selected a small plateau on the North Fork of the Swannanoa River and built a house in the style of an English manor, of wood sawed nearby at the Burnett Mill. The rooms were paneled in native woods: the library in wild cherry, the dining room in black walnut and oak, and the living room in curly poplar. The Burnetts knew of only one curly poplar tree standing. It was five feet in diameter, and was growing four miles above the wagon road. They cut the tree in fourteen foot lengths and skidded it, one end on a sled drawn by a team of oxen, down to the upper end of the wagon road. The house was begun in 1880 and finished in 1886, although the landscaping of the grounds was not complete until I 890. The estate contained fifteen hundred wooded acres. Materials such as mantels, windows, and decorations were ordered from New York and were hauled the eight miles from Black Mountain in wagons, often ox-drawn. Senator Vance named the place Gombroon. In 1878 Richmond Pearson, son of Chief Justice Richmond Pearson, inherited a large tract of land high on the west bank of the French Broad River. He named it Richmond Hill after his father's home and law school in Yadkin County. Ten years later the Richmond Hill house was built on a fine site overlooking Asheville. Although the exterior of the frame house was not remarkable for its beauty, the interior was fine. The walls of the rooms on the first floor were paneled, the entrance hall in oak, the library in walnut, the dining room in cherry, and the drawing room walls were hung in pink silk damask. Pearson served as a member of the United States House of Representatives and then as United States Minister to Persia, Greece, and Montenegro. He was an avid collector, and the house is a repository of paintings and art works from various parts of the world. George Washington Vanderbilt, grandson of Commodore Cornelius and youngest son of William H. Vanderbilt, was in �Timber! / 299 Biltmore House , Vanderbilt mansion ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO his early twenties when his father died and he inherited the bulk of his fortune. Earlier, on his twenty-first birthday his father had doubled the $r,ooo,ooo left the boy by the old Commodore. He had built up a large library of his own on the second floor of the family's Fifth Avenue mansion, and he spent much of his time in second-hand bookstores adding to his treasures. He had a wide knowledge of modern French literature, was thoroughly acquainted with the paintings in the family art gallery and with the distinguishing characteristics of their artists, and was a nightly visitor at the opera. In the late r88o's George Vanderbilt purchased fifty-odd farms and some ten country places heretofore owned by impoverished Southern landed aristocracy, and as might be expected, the house and grounds that he developed were an exquisite work of art. Richard Morris Hunt, the New York architect who had designed the Fifth A venue mansions of the V anderbilts, was chosen to make the plans. Hunt had studied at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and many of the mansions that he designed were in the style of the French chateaux, as Biltmore House, Vanderbilt's mansion, was to be. Frederick Law Olmsted, known as �300 / Part III: A Developing Economy Great stairway in Biltmore House ASHEVILLE C HAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO the first and greatest of American landscape architects, moved to the Biltmore grounds to create the most beautiful and elaborate country estate in America. The site selected gave the mansion a superb setting and a breath-taking view. Indiana limestone was used for the house, and a three-mile extension of the railroad was built to carry materials to the location. Hundreds of craftsmen were brought from Europe and from other parts of the United States to cut the limestone and to do the elaborate carvings. A thousand workers were employed for five years in building the mansion, during which time Vanderbilt traveled widely in Europe acquiring paintings, tapestries, statuary, porcelain, and antiques for his 250-room house, which was opened at a Christmas party in 1895. The banquet hall seventy-two feet by forty feet with �Timber! / 301 a seventy-five foot ceiling was designed for a magnificent set of tapestries. The library, which has twenty-thousand volumes, is enriched with a ceiling painted by Pellegrini for an Italian palace. Vanderbilt was still a bachelor. In I 898 he brought his bride to Biltmore. The former Edith Stuyvesant Dresser, she was a member of the distinguished New York family of Stuyvesants, and she had lived during her girlhood with an aunt in Paris, where Vanderbilt met her. She soon endeared herself to everyone on the estate and to the mountain people nearby. When Vanderbilt planned his estate, there was a little railroad station called Asheville Junction on the banks of the Swannanoa. The post office was called Best, and the village consisted of a few ramshackle houses. Part of the land was below water level. Vanderbilt decided to change Best into a model village. Olmsted planned the village, but first more than 40,000 cubic feet of earth had to be used to fill in the part that was below water level and often flooded in the spring. Buildings first erected were the Estate Office, All Souls Episcopal Church, a new railway station, and the Plaza Building, which housed eight stores, and had five apartments on the second floor. The church was of Norman French architecture, but the houses were of English stucco and timber style. The aim was to make Biltmore resemble an English village. The houses were eagerly sought after, and they were rented for from eight to twenty-five dollars a month. Workers on the estate kept up the streets and the grounds, and the rent paid for all the services. The village was incorporated in 1903 and had a mayor and commissioners. Upon Mr. Vanderbilt's death in 1914 the village was sold to George Stephens. In 1929 it was taken into the city of Asheville. A hospital and dispensary, now incorporated as Biltmore Hospital, was founded by Vanderbilt. His daughter, Mrs. John Francis Amherst Cecil, continues to aid the institution. When Vanderbilt bought the fifty farms the forests had been exploited until there were none left on the Asheville market. The trees had been killed by incessant forest fires set by the owners to improve the pasture in the woods. Most of the lands in the bottoms along the Swannanoa and French Broad rivers had been abandoned and were covered with sedgegrass. Olmsted planned a model farm, an arboretum, a game preserve, and an example of managed forestry, the first in the United States. The �302 / Part III: A Developing Economy well-to-do young Gifford Pinchot was employed as forester. He had turned down offers to go into his maternal grandfather's office with the practical certainty of a fortune because he chose to study forestry, principally at the French Forest School at Nancy in Lorraine (his paternal grandfather was French). He had just recently returned to America when George Vanderbilt and Frederick Olmsted decided to put forestry into practice on Biltmore Estate. As Pinchot's father and Olmsted were old friends, the young man was invited to take charge of the forest. Millions of acres ofland east of the Mississippi were as devastated as those at Biltmore. Reclamation of these North Carolina forests could serve as an object lesson to the nation. When Pinchot began his work at Biltmore, the destructive logging at the hands of the former owners had "been done with an eye single to immediate returns and wholly without regard for the safety of the forests, and fires had been permitted to burn unchecked. There had been much injudicious clearing of upper slopes, which, after a few years of unprofitable cultivation, were generally abandoned to erosion." Pinchot made a study of the 7280 acres, describing every bit of the forest, using squares of from five to seven acres, and then divided the forest into compartments, for each of which he mapped a plan for improvement cuttings. He planned to harvest all of the old trees that were going back, giving the young growth room and light to develop. He had to train native lumbermen to fell timber where it would do the least harm to the young growth, an idea that was contrary to their usual practice of cutting out of the way all of the young growth that would interfere with cheap and easy logging. Each tree to be cut was marked by Pinchot. The cutting began near Biltmore House, and because the wood there was very poor it was simply sawed into cordwood length and left for another gang to split into cordwood and unsalable brush. The wood was then hauled to the railroad to be shipped. A sawmill was soon acquired by Biltmore Forest, and a little later, as the crews moved into more heavily forested areas, they lumbered for saw logs. Drays or "go-devils" (sleds) were used to skid the logs to the roads, where they were loaded on wagons and hauled to the mill, a small portable circular one with a fifty-two inch saw and a twenty-horsepower steam engine. The smaller pieces of the logs were made into shingles. One of Pinchot's responsibilities was to prepare a Biltmore Forest exhibit for the Chicago World's Fair. Olmsted was in �Timber! / 303 A monarch of the forest ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. charge of the magnificent landscaping of the fair grounds. The value of managed forestry was to be sold to the public, the first exhibit of its kind ever made in the United States. It showed by enlarged photographs what the forest had been like and what had been done to improve it. The division into compartments and the plan for each compartment were shown by maps. A pamphlet written by Pinchot was distributed free of charge to visitors to the fair and to newspapers, and much friendly comment was received. Pinchot wrote, "The attempt to treat Biltmore Forest systematically derives a certain interest from the fact that it is the first practical application of forest management in the United States." He listed seventy varieties of trees found on Biltmore Estate, with both common and scientific n am es. An account of expenditures and receipts from the lumber showed a profit, despite the expense of building roads from the sawmill to the rollways, necessitating a road gang to keep the roads in order. After the World's Fair exhibit was completed, Vanderbilt sent Pinchot to look for land higher in the mountains for his �304 / Part III: A Developing Economy game preserve. Under consideration was the Pink Beds, a tract of 20,000 acres, part of which Vanderbilt purchased. Parts of the tract were by that time owned and occupied by farmers. Pinchot recommended the purchase and then made several trips to look over 8o,ooo acres adjacent to the Pink Beds, a region of steep slopes, sharp ridges, and narrow valleys, with a high percentage of mature timber. Vanderbilt purchased the land and named it Pisgah Forest. Located in Buncombe, Transylvania, Henderson, and Haywood counties, it was rich in virgin forests because of inaccessibility, and Vanderbilt hoped to practice forestry there at a profit. As the yellow poplar trees on Big Creek, directly under Mount Pisgah, were mature and going down-hill, Pinchot recommend cutting them and sawing the lumber at the mill in Biltmore Forest on the bank of the French Broad River. About this time Pinchot became restless and decided to open an office as a forestry consultant in New York. His replacement as Vanderbilt's forester was Carl A. Schenck, a young German who had just completed a course under Sir Dietrich Brandis, a distinguished German forester who "might be called the 'Grandfather of American forestry,' although he never visited the United States." Olmsted, Pinchot, and other Americans interested in forestry were greatly influenced by Brandis. Schenck arrived at Biltmore in 1895 and remained in the United States until 1914, although he never gave up his German citizenship. He had much to learn because the theories he had been taught did not coincide with conditions in Biltmore and Pisgah Forests. During his first months at Biltmore he lived with the Olmsteds in their summer residence. They helped him with the English language and with the affairs of the estate. Schenck's first responsibility was lumbering and marketing the yellow poplar trees in Big Cove Creek, which resulted disastrously. He had a splash dam constructed to his regret. It proved impractical. Bad for the lover of nature was the destruction wrought by the logs as they swept down the stream. Laurels framing the bank of Big Creek were devastated, and the moss covering the rocks was washed away. The beauty of Big Creek was de. strayed, the fertility of the cove was reduced by the acceleration of drainage, and a loss of thousands of dollars was incurred. The lower part of the Mills River through which Schenck's logs must pass to reach the French Broad and continue to the sawmill was lined with small farms, and many of the logs washed �Timber! / 305 ashore onto the fields. The owners were furious and lawsuits resulted. Vanderbilt had to pay damages to the farmers to get his logs. Schenck was convinced that the building of permanent roads into forests of marketable trees was the only satisfactory means for transportation of logs, and many roads were built during his regime as forester. Another of Schenck's disappointments resulted from his effort to restore old fields to forestry by producing seedling trees. He hoped to grow the seedlings by planting acorns and hickory nuts, five bushels to the acre, in shallow furrows made with a bull-tongue plow and covered with dirt of another furrow. Hundreds of bushels were planted with no success. Rodents ate most of the seeds. Sedgegrass crowded out the few that grew. Forestry apprentices had come to Biltmore to work under Pinchot and Schenck, engaging in nursery work and in constructing trout ponds and a fish hatchery. They worked without renumeration so eager were they to learn forestry. In addition, rangers were employed, four at Biltmore Forest and three at Pisgah Forest. They were responsible for the progress of roads, nurseries, logging, wood cutting, and for prevention of forest fires and of trespass. Both Pinchot and Schenck had many dealings with the mountain people because Vanderbilt's purchases were in the higher altitudes, on the ridges and slopes, to which access was necessary through the many interior holdings, usually of small farmers in the narrow valleys. Pinchot wrote of the owners: "They regarded this country as their country, their common. And that was not surprising, for they needed everything usable in it - pasture, fish, game - to supplement the very meager living they were able to scratch from the soil of their little clearings, which often were no clearings at all, but mere 'deadenings,' filled with the whitened skeletons of trees killed by girdling." "By immemorial custom and by law, the cattle and the long-legged hogs ran free over ridge and slope and bottom. You had to fence them out, not to fence them in. These people dwelt and slept mostly in one-room cabins .... An open fireplace was cookstove and furnace, with a kettle hanging from a crane." Glass was rare, and windows were closed by solid board shutters. Homespun was the common wear. One of Schenck's most valuable apprentices was Overton Price, whose mother was a Westfeldt and who lived at Rugby Grange, one of the better-kept old Southern estates of the area. �306 / Part III: A Developing Economy He knew the language of the mountain people, the country, and the native trees. Later Price studied in Germany and returned home to become Pinchot's secretary. In I900 Pinchot founded the Society of American Foresters, with fifteen members, four of them Biltmoreans, of whom Price was one. His treatise, "Practical Forestry in the Southern Appalachians," for the Yearbook of the Department cif Agriculture in I900 was prophetic of the importance the outside world would soon attach to the mountain area. He placed the emphasis on sound business measures and practical forestry and on producing repeated crops of merchantable lumber. Three considerations were pointed out: not only is the timber valuable, especially black walnut, cherry, hickory, white oak, and poplar; but the forests control the drainage basins of the rivers; moreover, the Southern Appalachians have a great future as a health and recreation resort because there is no equivalent great forest region within easy reach of so large a number of people. Because of the number of young men who wanted to learn forestry and the absence of a forestry school in the United States, Schenck started one in I 897, and in I 898 he published a school catalogue. He advertised the curriculum as a one-year course in practical forest management with emphasis on field work. A school room was built in the Pink Beds for summer use, but in winter the lectures were given at Biltmore Forest. Those who finished the course found ready employment. Schenck in I908 sent out invitations to foresters all over the nation to come to a forest fair in Biltmore Forest. The invitations were in the form of a fifty-six page booklet in which his plantings in each of sixty-three tracts were described. The cost was listed as were the successes and failures of each plantation or tract. Tracts were labeled and numbered, and persons attending were shown these sixty-three extensive efforts at scientific forestry. This fair was to be a visual demonstration. Schenck's booklet was informative, inspiring, and humorous. A sample excerpt indicates the extent of his efforts and those of the Biltmore foresters and illustrates how these efforts provided guide lines for continued practical forestry: "Tip No. 2. The plantation marked No. 2, of Long Ridge, covers forty-five acres of steep slopes which were cleared some sixty years ago; abandoned for farming some thirty years ago; covered in I 89 5 with sedgegrass, and cut by deeply eroded gullies on the side facing the East. In 189 5 Mr. Vanderbilt desired the entire hill to be planted �Timber! / 307 in hardwoods. It was my wish to show him (and to all America) that forest planting could be done ... at an expense of $s.oo an acre." On this plantation he sowed bushels of chestnuts and hickory nuts and set out on the north slope I I ,ooo yearling chestnut oaks, ailanthus, black cherries, and hickories. On the west slope where the sedge was heavy he planted some 20,000 Douglas firs, sugar maples, white and black walnuts, black cherries, and white oaks. The cost of planting and work was $241.06. Some of these plantings did well; others did not. He did additional plantings in I898, I899, and I900, after which time the plantation did well. He stated that Long Ridge, which had been a nasty scar on a hillside, was now flourishing, and added, "Nowadays it is a joy for me to crawl through this plantation! I feel like the Lord on the Seventh Day of creation when I am crawling." Each of Schenck's sixty-three "Tips" dealt with similar efforts and eventual successes. Many foresters came to his forest fair, and from it they learned valuable lessons about conservation and successful forestry. The whole tenor of the pamphlet indicates Schenck's love for his trees and his work. This fair must have been one of the finest actual demonstrations of forestry ever presented to interested foresters. In April I909 Vanderbilt discharged Carl Schenck as forester, and forestry at Biltmore came to an end for almost forty years. Although the Biltmore Forest School had no endowment or support from public funds, it was self-supporting from tuition fees, and Schenck was financially independent. His decision was to operate the school on a field study basis, using land owned by lumber companies in North Carolina, in the Adirondacks, in Michigan, and in Oregon for working fields. In addition he took his students to Europe for two to three month periods to show them the results of sustained-yield European forestry. And so the forestry school continued to operate until I9I4. Meanwhile several forestry schools had been established by American universities, and state boards of forestry were on the increase. Under Schenck's influence Governor William W. Kitchen of North Carolina issued a proclamation in I909 placing all woodlands situated above contour line two thousand feet under increased fire protection. Schenck's contribution to the state and the nation was to emphasize the importance of privately owned forests, properly managed and protected to enable them to continue producing merchantable timber. The private lumber �308 / Part III: A Developing Economy companies regarded him as a friend. Reuben Robertson of the Champion Fibre Company offered Schenck its Sunburst village for the forestry school headquarters. Sunburst was a model village built to house woodworkers, the buildings of which were not being used. Schenck accepted the offer, and he and his forestry school surveyed the whole territory near Canton. The Champion Coated Paper Company was an Ohio concern incorporated about 1896 by Peter G. Thomson who had obtained from the Champion International Paper Company of Massachusetts a license to make paper, coating it on both sides at one operation. Great profits were made, but Thomson owned no forests, and he was buying wood from his competitors in Ohio. He needed a supply of spruce for making pulp. The spruce forests in the Smoky and Balsam mountains were the finest in the United States. In 1905 the Champion Fibre Company was organized, and from 1906 to 1908 it built its plant at Canton, North Carolina. Thomson borrowed over $3,00o,ooo during the panic of 1907 to complete the paper and pulp mill. Long known as the Ford of Pigeon and its post office known as Pigeon River, the place had only a few houses when the Western North Carolina Railroad reached it. The name Canton was bestowed by the General Assembly in I 894. The town had been the terminus of the railroad for two years and had developed accordingly. By 1906 it had about four hundred people, but after the Champion Paper Company went into operation it attracted workers and their families and by I 9 I 6 there were around six thousand people living in Canton and two thousand more in the surrounding area. Mr. Reuben Robertson, Thomson's son-in-law, was sent to Canton on a fifty-day assignment to make the plant a successful one, and he remained for the rest of his life, more than fifty years. Tanning was a sideline to the chief purpose of the company, paper making, yet the tannic acid made there paid for the wood. A process developed by Oma Carr, a chemical engineer, was applied to chestnut chips to make pulp after the tannic acid had been removed from them. The wood was reduced to small chips and subjected to treatment in boiling chemicals which dissolved the resinous material in the wood, leaving only the fibre. After washing, screening, and bleaching, it was formed in a sheet on a revolving cylinder covered with wire cloth, �Timber! / 309 passed between rollers to wring out the water, then heated over steam cylinders for drying. Wound on reels in continous rolls as it appeared from the machine, it resembled cardboard or blotter. This product was shipped to Hamilton, Ohio, to be coated. At first, chestnut wood was essential to the plant for production of tannic acid, and Robertson said that the company came to North Carolina first for the spruce and second for the many chestnut trees. The chestnut blight which appeared about 1920 was of cataclysmic importance to the industry. Spruce was difficult to obtain because it grew only in the highest altitudes, and after Schenck's survey revealed the great extent of pine forests available a process was developed to make a bleached kraft out of pine. Champion made the first white paper of pine. The company purchased lands, often tracts with nothing ready for immediate harvest, but with "good forest reproduction on them." It also purchased wood from the farmers and from the national forests. The contracts with farmers contained a clause stating that they could be cancelled if the wood was not handled in accordance with sustained yield principles. It was essential for the company that the forests be maintained for perpetual yield. By 1916 the Champion Fibre Company employed over one thousand men and was worth ten million dollars. Fifteen carloads of products left Canton daily. In addition the farmers had a cash crop and the lumbermen a market for their waste products. Supplies such as coal, lime, alkali, and sulphur were supplied from Tennessee and Virginia. After the days of the Forestry School at Biltmore, no forestry program was carried on there until 1946, when the Champion Paper and Fibre Company (the name had been changed) made a contract with the estate to cut mature trees and do scientific thinning in certain areas. Max Dillingham, forester in charge, was a joint employee of the estate and the company. Natural reseeding was carried on from seed trees in natural regeneration. Of the 12,000 acres then in the estate, about 8,500 were in forest land. Suitable trees were cut for sawwood and were sawed at the sawmill on the estate and sold through a broker. Some forty employees worked on the operation, under contract, using their own equipment. All trees were marked before cutting, and all brush and limbs were scattered evenly over the forest floor. Champion built and maintained its own roads. Firewood was �3 ro / Part III: A Developing Economy cut for the estate greenhouses and sawdust was used in the barns, so there was no waste. The Champion Paper and Fibre Company has had enlightened policies concerning the preservation of forests and the use of the "sustained-yield" principle in its harvesting of and purchases of timber and wood. It has made progress in solving its problems of air and stream pollution. Report No. 5, Pollution Survey of the French Broad River Basin made by the State Stream Sanitation Committee (1957) criticized the company for discharging industrial waste into Pigeon River. The company spent $3,ooo,ooo in 1962 and 1963 to develop a primary treatment system. Afterwards it began work on a secondary treatment system. Mr. Vanderbilt in the early 1900's sold the timber rights in Pisgah Forest to the Carr Lumber Company for twelve dollars per acre, the contract to extend over a twenty-year period. During the twenty years the Vanderbilt estate netted about $870,000. Vanderbilt held that "private ownership of any resource necessary to the general welfare carries with it the moral obligation of faithful stewardship to the public." He said: "I have stuck to forestry from the beginning and I shall not forsake it now. For me to impair the future usefulness of Pisgah Forest in order to somewhat increase present revenues, would be bad business policy. But apart from that, it would be bad citizenship. As I see it, no man is a good citizen who destroys for selfish ends a growing forest." Vanderbilt might have received a much higher price for the timber if he had waived restrjctions as to methods of cutting under this sale, but he required that the methods of practical forestry be followed. Overton Price wrote: "Pisgah Forest, its mountainous slopes clothed in an unbroken mantle of protective tree growth, is his monument. He transformed it by nearly a quarter of a century's efficient fire protection from a forest characterized by scanty young growth, thin humus covering, and impoverished soil, as the result of an injury it had received in former years from excessive grazing and recurrent fires, to one whose silvicultural condition is probably unequalled in the Southern Appalachians." Although managed forestry was first applied in America at Biltmore Forest, the United States Government had shown an �Timber f / 3 I I interest in forest conservation for many years. In 1876 the Division of Forestry had been established in the Department of Agriculture to gather statistics and disseminate information on forestry. Proposals that the United States retain in the public domain the timberlands that were still owned publicly were made but not acted upon until I89I when the Forest Reserve Act was passed and President Harrison, on the advice of Arnold Hague of the U. S. Geological Service, set aside the Yellowstone Park Timberland Reserve of over a million and a quarter acres. This was the first U. S. Forest Reservation. The act did not provide for the practice of forestry or for protection of the forests. It merely withheld the land from sale or homesteading. President Cleveland added 2I,279,840 acres to the Forest Reserves. Subsequent legislation outlined the duties and responbilities of those administering the reserves. Theodore Roosevelt became President of the United States in I90I, and upon the advice of Hoke Smith, Secretary of the Interior, Gifford Pinchot, :md F. H. Newell, author of the act of 189I providing for the reserves, he transformed forestry and irrigation into issues of national consequence and won for them a high degree of public acceptance. In his Annual Message, December 2, I 90I, he wrote: "The fundamental idea of forestry is the perpetuation of forests by use. Forest protection is not an end in itself; it is a means to increase and sustain the resources of our country and the industries which depend upon them." At that time the Division of Forestry in the Department of Agriculture was renamed the Bureau of Forestry with Gifford Pinchot as its head. In 1905 the Forest Reserves were transferred to the Department of Agriculture's Bureau of Forestry, and renamed the United States Forest Service. The Forest Reserves were renamed National Forests. So far, none of the legislation applied to the hardwood forests of the Southern Appalachians, where there was no land in the public domain. Efforts had been made to get the federal government to preserve portions of these forests. In I885 Dr. Henry 0. Marcy, a Boston physician, read before the American Academy of Medicine in New York, a paper concerning the advisability of securing a large reservation of the higher ranges of the mountains of North Carolina as a national park for the benefit of invalids. He said its advantages "would be of value incalculable to millions yet unborn." Other proposals for a national forest in the Appalachians were made, and after Theodore Roosevelt visited Asheville in I902 there was a movement in �312 / P.::rt III: A Developing Economy Congress to have the United States purchase lands in the Appalachians for parks and reserves. Destructive floods had occurred in the streams draining the Appalachians. These could be brought under control if the slopes were properly forested. A fundamental difference developed between the operation of the National Forests and the National Parks. In the latter the virgin forest is preserved; while in the former, controlled lumbering is practiced. The efforts to establish a national park are discussed elsewhere. Here the emphasis will be on National Forests, which were provided for by the Weeks Law in 191r. By the year 1910, the Forest Reserves had been increased to 25,605,700 acres, all west of the Mississippi River. The forests were yielding a revenue, one-fourth of the gross of which was distributed to the states in which the forests were located, while the nation appropriated $3,908,240.32 for operation. It seemed logical that Congress could appropriate money to purchase forest lands east of the Mississippi. Mr. James S. Whipple, Forest Commissioner of New York, explained: "Without forests we can have but little water. A study of this natural reservoir proves the importance and imperative necessity of preserving our forests. Let us examine it: The trees are part of it; the leaves on the trees are part of it; the twigs, old logs, limbs, and fallen limbs are part of it. All of these catch, delay, and hold back the raindrops as they fall. If you will observe the conditions of the forest floor you will notice that between the trees there are little basins in the ground, caused by the roots of the trees holding up the soil. These basins catch and hold the rain. Then underneath it all, formed from decaying leaves, twigs, limbs, and logs for a thousand years, is a black mold called humus. Thus humus has greater power to take up and hold moisture than any other known vegetable or animal matter. . . . [All of these are] parts of this perfect reservoir, built on nature's plan, detaining, holding, and keeping back the water, allowing it to soak into the ground to feed the little springs, thence the creeks, and keep the water flowing slowly from the hills all the year round. "On the other hand, when the forest is cut away, the basins are broken down, all obstructions to the flow of water are removed, the humus is destroyed, and nature's reservoir is swept away, allowing the water to run quickly into the larger streams, causing destructive floods. Many times great damage and sometimes unhealthful conditions follow. When the storm is over, the flood subsides, the water is soon gone, and dry creek- �Timber! / 3 1 3 beds appear." Federal purchase of forests in the Appalachians had been endorsed by three Presidents but had been opposed by Senators from the Northwest and by some Southern Senators who were adherents of strict states rights. The Weeks Act, passed on the fifteenth of February, 1911, authorized the Secretary of Agriculture to recommend for purchase lands he believed necessary for the regulation of the flow of navigable streams at prices fixed by the National Forest Reservation Commission. The seller of a tract was allowed to reserve the timber and mineral rights, but all cutting of timber and all mining must be done under the rules and regulations established by the commission. The act provided that after the purchase of tracts small areas that were included which could be used for agriculture without injury to the forest or the stream flow and not needed for public purposes were to be offered for sale as homesteads in tracts not to exceed eighty acres, and jurisdiction over such land would revert to the state in which it lay. An amendment later substituted the exchange of land for actual purchase. The terms of the exchange are based on need of a national forest for a particular tract which is privately owned, and desire of an individual to acquire a tract not essential to the national forest. These exchanges are not on an acre for acre basis, and a farmer might receive a forty-acre tract in exchange for a much smaller one. Thus small individuals holdings not originally sold to the government have been acquired. Since 1897 timber sales have been permitted in forest reservations, now National Forests, to residents of adjacent areas; this practice has been important. Residents in the mountains are permitted to engage in lumbering in the National Forests. To illustrate, a farmer who owns a sawmill and who desires to increase his income during the months that are unproductive on the farm may apply to a ranger for permission to cut certain trees that are overmature (no longer growing rapidly enough to make it worthwhile to save them) to make way for vigorous young stock. The farmer may know of such a group of trees. The ranger measures the trees to determine their stumpage value, based on the difference between their sale value and the cost of producing it less a proper allowance for profit and risk. If the amount due the government is less than $soo the ranger is not required to advertise the timber for sale, and a contract may be drawn up. Amounts involving a payment of over $soo must be advertised. The purchaser may pay cash, or he may �314 / Part III: A Developing Economy arrange to make payments as he markets the lumber. The plan encourages conservation as the farmer wishes to be able to continue purchasing timber from the National Forest. Under the Weeks Act National Forests were created in the Appalachian region of North Carolina, the Pisgah in 1916 and the Nantahala in 1920. The headquarters are in Asheville. The purchase of Vanderbilt's holdings in Pisgah Forest was approved in 1914 after his death although he had favored the sale. Mrs. Vanderbilt asked five dollars per acre, which was less than the average price of other tracts already acquired. Her feeling in the matter was expressed in a letter to the commission: "I wish earnestly to make such disposition of Pisgah Forest as will maintain in the fullest and most permanent way its national value as an object lesson in forestry, as well as its wonderful beauty and charm; and I realize that its ownership by the Nation will alone make its preservation permanent and certain. Accordingly I have decided to make as large a contribution as I can, in order to help bring this result about." It must be remembered that Vanderbilt had already realized twelve dollars per acre for the timber rights sold to the Carr Lumber Company. The Weeks Act was passed under the power of the United States to preserve the navigability of streams and their watersheds. A subsequent act, more far-reaching, provided for the purchase of land for the practice of forestry, even where navigability of streams was not in jeopardy. Purchases of additional tracts were made and continued to be made until in 1966 there were 878,ooo acres of land in national forests in the twenty-four counties of Western North Carolina. Of this, 48o,ooo is in the Pisgah National Forest, the balance in the Nantahala National Forest. A much greater percentage of land is in commercial forests, most of which are being managed today in accordance with the example furnished by the Forest Service. A survey conducted in 1966 showed that 14% of all land in the twenty-four counties is in National Forests, while 71.5% of all land is in commercial forests. In 1967 Macon County had the largest acreage of national forests, 148,016; Transylvania was second with 87,466. The other four leaders were Haywood, 67,454; Burke, 47,409; Buncombe, 3 1,874; Swain, 16,148. In 1916 President Wilson proclaimed the creation of the Pisgah National Game Preserve, the first concrete wildlife management program for Western North Carolina. Recognition of the multiple-use principle already practiced was achieved in the "Multiple-Use Sustained Yield Act" of �Timber! / 315 1960. The act named the basic renewable resources (water, recreation, wood, forage, and wildlife) for which the Forest Service is responsible. Once acquired, the National Forests have been utilized in as many ways as possible to provide for the recreational needs of the American people. The Forest Service almost at once set aside the Pink Beds as a site for a federal deer propagation program. Fawns were caught and reared there and then transferred to begin herds in North Carolina and other states. Trout were also propagated for restocking mountain streams. In I 96 I, the fiftieth anniversary of the Weeks Law, Secretary of Agriculture Orville Freeman gave instructions to designate the Pink Beds "The Cradle of Forestry in America." Consequently a visitor center has been created near the site of Schenck's School of Forestry. It contains displays illustrating the multiple use of forests. Visitors may then follow nearby trails for a view of the region as it was during Schenck's regime. The Pisgah and Nantahala National Forests are administered by four staff members and numerous associates at the Asheville headquarters, heading the four facets of modem forestry: water, timber, wildlife, and recreation. In the Nantahala National Forest ten rivers rise: the Nantahala, Cheoah, Tuckaseigee, Hiwassee, Valley, Cullasaja, Little Tennessee, Chattooga, Whitewater, and Toxaway. They feed large river systems, the Tennessee and the Savannah. The area receives as much as seventy inches of rainfall per year, and in some places it reaches one hundred or more inches. Near Franklin, at the headwaters of the Little Tennessee River, is the 5400 acre Coweeta Hydrological Laboratory, the only study area of its kind in the Eastern United States. There the soil is as deep as thirty inches, and observations are made of the effects of timber cutting, logging, fire, woods grazing, and land clearing on the flow and quality of the water and the silt content of streams. The aim is to develop methods of forest management to obtain better and more abundant water supplies. At Bent Creek Experimental Forest near Asheville, studies have shown that forest soil stripped of its trees absorbs less than one-fifth of an inch of rain in an hour, while properly managed forest land absorbs up to four inches of rainfall in an hour. Nantahala National Forest contains 650 million boardfect of saw timber and 400,000 cords of merchantable pulpwood. In I956 the income from the sale of timber was $3 I7,000. Twentyfive per cent of all income from the sale of forest products is �316 / Part III: A Developing Economy Deer preserve ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. paid to the state to be used for schools and roads in the counties in which the forest is located. An additional ten per cent is appropriated to the Forest Service for improvement of roads and trails in the forest. The timber operators who purchase timber in the Nantahala National Forest had in 1956 an annual payroll of $696,ooo, and year-round employment was provided for five hundred people. As the volume of forest products increases the above figures also increase. In 1937 the State of North Carolina and the United States Forest Service signed a cooperative wildlife agreement, which has been revised from time to time. The purpose is to protect wildlife, to plant fish in the streams throughout the forests, and to regulate fishing and hunting, and a license for either must be obtained from the state. State game, fish, and sanitary laws apply except in special game-management areas inside the forest, which in the Nantahala Forest are Fires Creek area north ofHayesville, Wayah Wildlife Management area west ofFranklin, Standing Indian area at the head of the Nantahala River, and the Santeetlah area northwest of Robbinsville. In these the number of hunters and the hunting periods for wild boar, bear, and deer are restricted to maintain a sustained game production. �Timber! / 317 A mountain angler on Lake Logan near Waynesville HUGH MORTON PHOTO A cook-out in a camp ground of the Pisgah National Forest U.S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO �3r 8 / Part III: A Developing Economy Hiker on a trail in a national forest U .S. FOREST SERVI CE PHOTO Special fees are charged by the state to hunt and fish in the Cooperative Wildlife Management areas. Twenty-three hundred persons per year are permitted to hunt bear and wild boar with dogs in North Carolina. Applicants pay the required fee and engage in a public drawing for the right to hunt. Hunt fees are refunded to those who lose out in the drawing. There are 1200 miles of trout streams in the N ational Forests in North Carolina, constituting fifty per cent of the trout streams in the state, and brook, rainbow, and brown trout are present there. The Pisgah Forest Fish Hatchery in Transylvania County twelve miles from Brevard furnished nine- to ten- inch trout for the streams and lakes of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the Cherokee Indian Reservation, the Pisgah and N antahala National Forests, and public trout waters in eight counties ofWestern North Carolina, and eggs are shipped to fish hatcheries in other states of the Appalachian area. A laboratory trains hatchery p ersonnel. Forest fire control has been so effective in the N ational Forests that the average loss in the Nantahala is now one-third �Timber! / 319 of one per cent. Towers and observatories at high points, w ith observers always on the alert and with telephone and radio service and roads and trails for the purpose, enable the fire fighting crews to put out most of the fires within the first hour after they start. For those who like to camp or to hike, there are twenty-nine recreation areas, twenty of which have camping facilities and well-marked trails. In some areas the United States Forest Service rents sites on an annual basis for families wishing to build their own cabins. Typical of the camp sites is the J ack R abbit Recreation Area on Chatuge Lake in Clay County , where camping, picnicking, boating, and water skiing are possible. The North Carolina Wildlife Commission and the United States Forest Service provided a boat launching ramp. Said to resemble a Swiss Alpine lake, Chatuge has been called the crown j ewel in TV A's system of beautiful lakes. Each of the one hundred camping sites has a table, a tent platform, and a fireplace. Fifteen miles away is the Fires Creek Wildlife Management Area, where campers may fish and hunt during the legal T he Linville Gorge W ilderness A rea ASHEVI LLE C H AMBER OF COMMER CE PHOTO �320 f Part III: A Developing Economy Inviting trail in the Linville Gorge Wilderness Area U .S . FOREST SERVICE PHOTO season. Twenty-six miles of developed trails lead to the rim of the mountains. In 1937 the 2000-mile Appalachian Trail for foot travel was completed. Extending from Maine to Georgia, in North Carolina it winds over Roan Mountain, follows the boundary between the Pisgah N ational Forest and the Cherokee National Forest (in Tennessee), through the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and into the Nantahala and Chattahoochee (Georgia) National Forests. Three areas of unusual beauty are preserved within the National Forests. They are Roan Mountain, Linville Gorge Wilderness, and Joyce Kilmer M emorial Forest. The first and second have been known by tourists for generations. Roan M ountain, on the North Carolina-Tennessee line, is in late �Timber! / 321 Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in Graham County- marker ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO Vista ofJoyce Kilmer Memorial Forest from Snowbird Mountain Lodge U.S . FOREST SERVICE PHOTO �322 j Part III: A Developing Economy June blanketed with blooming purple rhododendron, with here and there beautiful stands of fir and spruce trees. Cloudland Hotel closed about 1917, and in 1940 the United States Forest Service purchased the area. Five thousand acres are managed for recreational use, although no camping facilities are provided. The Linville Gorge Wilderness has been admired by visitors since it was visited by the French botanist Andre Michaux in I 802. No road has ever been built along this stretch of the Linville River because its banks are so rugged, with Linville Mountain on its right and Jonas Ridge on its left. The latter is unique in its strange rock formations that are visible for miles- Hawksbill, Table Rock, and the Chimneys. Travelers on foot and on horseback have for years gone to Wiseman's View on Linville Mountain for the panorama of the gorge and Jonas Ridge. Along the riverbank and throughout the gorge are an abundance of wild flowers and shrubs of great variety. Camping is permitted in the Linville Gorge Wilderness but no facilities are furnished. However, about five miles from Wiseman's View, at Linville Falls, a campground is provided. In Graham County in the Nantahala National Forest is a 38oo acre tract of virgin wilderness with trees hundreds of years old, some measuring twenty feet around the base and more than a hundred feet high, and a great variety of shrubs. It is designated the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in honor of the poet-soldier who lost his life in France in World War One, whose poem "Trees" is loved by the American public. The trees are here for all to admire and enjoy. They enable both travelers and residents, the city pent and the people of the wooded hills, to get close to the heart of nature - to feel like nature's noblemen. Let it be the resolve of all who live in or come to the mountains that when a tree is cut a tree must be planted. �CHAPTER FIFTEEN From Indian Trails to Broad Highways In I879 there began in North Carolina a movement that was to make possible the most far-reaching reform in the history of the state. This was initiated by the Mecklenburg Road Law. Prior to that time all road work had been done by the free-labor system called the "labor tax" under which every able-bodied man was obligated to give a certain number of days' work per year for the upkeep of roads. The new law applied to three counties, Mecklenburg, Forsyth, and Stokes, but it was available to any county by action of the county commissioners if requested by a petition of a specified number of voters. It provided for a combination of free-labor and tax support for construction of roads. The law was repealed two years later and then was reenacted. A new principle had entered the minds of the legislators and of the people of the state. Since I 867 various experiments with road building had been tried. First, the township justices had been made responsible for administering the state road laws and appointing road supervisors for their districts. The constitution as amended in I 875 assigned road control to the county commissioners, who were chosen by the township justices appointed by the legislature. However, in I 880 the General Assembly in special session restored the township trustees' responsibility for roads. In I 887 the "chain-gang law" authorized the counties to assign to road work convicts with sentences of less than ten years. Meanwhile the practice of requiring every able-bodied man to work on the public roads continued. The roads remained as bad as before. 323 �324 / Part III: A Developing Economy Two professors at the state university, State Geologist ]. A. Holmes and William Cain, a civil engineer, in a report to Governor Thomas M. Holt in I893, wrote: "The problem of better public roads, especially in the midland and western counties, perhaps outranks in importance all other industrial questions now before the people of the State." Holmes and Cain recommended that all public roads be constructed and kept in repair as far as possible by men employed and trained for the work. They emphasized that railroads could in no way substitute for roads. "Every citizen should be within easy reach, over a good public highway, of the railroad, the county seat, and the nearest market town." It was the contention of the two professors that the state lost $Io,5 I9,ooo annually because of bad roads in the middle and western counties. The figures were broken down as follows: "Loss on account of the cost of feeding, and loss of time by the I34,000 country mules and horses in the middle and western counties, during four weeks of impassable roads: $I ,6oo,ooo; "Loss, on account of bad roads, of the time and maintenance of 2Io,ooo country horses and mules, I05,000 wagons and harness, and wages of 105,000 teamsters, during one month: $3 ,948,ooo; "Loss on account of bad roads, of the services and expense of feeding 25,000 town horses, and services of I2,000 teamsters, and wear and tear on I2,500 wagons and harness, all of which could be saved by having good roads and streets: $4,53I,ooo; "Wasted in working public roads in taxes and labor: $440,000; Total: $10,519,000." They maintained that the state could save this amount annually by installing a system of good macadamized roads. Rural Free Delivery (RFD) which was experimental with a law passed by Congress in 1893 was impractical in Western North Carolina because of the poor roads, although by 1898 it had become a permanent feature of the postal service. In I 899 a Good Roads Association of Asheville was organized, the first in the state. The private macadam roads on the Vanderbilt estate had demonstrated what might be done with public roads. The association under the leadership of Dr. C. P. Ambler built one mile of macadam road from Asheville to Biltmore and campaigned for better roads in Buncombe County. It cooperated with neighboring counties in holding meetings, and a similar association was formed in Hendersonville. In I902 a North Carolina Good Roads Association was formed to work �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 325 Post offices were usually in stores or homes ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . out a formula to help the counties acquire better roads through federal support, extended use of convicts, instruction in road building, and a course in road building to be offered at State College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts and at the state university. Meanwhile some efforts were made by individuals or corporations to attract the tourist trade to areas not served by railroads, requiring them to invest private capital for roads. Mr. S. T. Kelsey, one of the founders of Highlands in Macon County, was employed to make a survey for a projected railroad that was to follow the Blue Ridge through the Carolinas �326 / Part III: A Developing Economy and Virginia. He was impressed with the scenic possibilities of the area which became Linville. Kelsey interested his friend Donald MacRae of Wilmington, who in turn sent his son Hugh to look over the valley. A corporation was formed to purchase land and lay out a resort village. As the location was remote and travel would be difficult, the company constructed the Y onahlossee road in I 890 and I 89I along the southern slope of Grandfather Mountain from Linville to Blowing Rock with a branch road leading to the top of the mountain. The main road was twenty miles long and from ten to fourteen feet wide, and the cost of building was about $IO,ooo. Kelsey surveyed and supervised the construction of the project, employing local workmen. Joe Lee Hartley, who worked on the two-year projec!:, described the task: "We had bush crews and log crews, shovel and mattock crews. There were some 300 men working on the road .... I walked five miles to work for 300 days. When we got the road about half way done, up there around the side of the Grandfather, we had a shack under the rocks." In their I893 report Holmes and Cain called the road "an excellent one for summer travel ... through one of the most beautiful and interesting portions of the mountain region of North Carolina." The Good Roads movement grew in popularity and a Southern Appalachian Good Roads Association was organized in I909. Two years later the Southern Railway and the Atlantic Coastline Railway entered the campaign. Their officials believed that good roads would encourage production and result in more balanced marketing. A Good Roads Train was operated in the mountains by the Southern Railway in I9I I. It contained three coaches, one of which contained working models and road building equipment, with explanations of how to build and maintain good roads, and one a stereopticon and screen showing good and bad roads. Railway officials and experts from the United States Office of Public Roads gave lectures in Marshall, Asheville, Waynesville, Sylva, Hendersonville, Lake Toxaway, Brevard, Rutherfordton, Marion, Morganton, North Wilkesboro, and Mount Airy. The automobile had come into use on North Carolina roads and streets, and a license fee of five dollars per auto was �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 327 Copy of photo made by Donald McRae of the Linville-Blowing Rock hack on the HUGH MORTON PHOTO Yonahlossee Road at Wilson Creek in the 189o's imposed in 1909, of which three dollars was returned to the county in which it was collected. In 1911 the General Assembly authorized construction of the Central Highway to extend from Morehead City to the Tennessee line, to follow the railroad. Work lagged and the road was not completed until 1921. The plan was to improve roads already constructed, making them thirty feet wide from ditch to ditch and with no grade over four and one-half percent. Buncombe County already had a good road from Swannanoa Gap on the east to the county line on the west, a combination of macadam in some places and sand clay in others. Sand clay roads were cheaper to build than macadam and a county could build more miles with its money. Sand clay roads required constant attention, but they could be kept up by just a few men. When the Central Highway Committee attempted to inspect the entire route in 1912, its members had to begin the tour in Haywood County, Madison County's roads not being in �328 / Part III: A Developing Economy condition for travel even in midsummer. A scenic highway to be known as the "Crest of the Blue Ridge Highway" was being surveyed in I9II, from Marion, Virginia, to Talullah Falls, Georgia, where it would connect with a good road to Atlanta. It was to enter North Carolina in Ashe County via Beaver Creek and Elk Cross Roads, where there was a good dirt road as far as Boone. The next thirty-five miles, to Linville via Blowing Rock, would utilize the Y onahlossee road. From Linville to Linville Falls the road was under construction, although there was not yet any surfacing material and it would get very heavy in winter. Tourists would be expected to stop at Linville Falls to see the gorge and the falls. From that point the road would proceed close to the summit of the Blue Ridge on an entirely new route with beautiful scenery. The highest point on the highway would be Stepps Gap, approximately 5,500 feet, only 1,200 less than Mount Mitchell. Thence it would pass through the heart of the Black Mountains where there had never been any roads. The road was to lead through Asheville to Hendersonville and Brevard, then pass the resorts of Lake Toxaway, Lake Sapphire, and Fairfield Lake to Highlands, and on to Talullah Falls. At Asheville the proposed road was to coincide with one already constructed to the top of Sunset Mountain. This five mile macadam road had been constructed by Dr. E. W. Grove as an exclusive automobile route, there being a separate road to the summit for carnages. The scheme for the scenic road originated with Dr. Joseph Hyde Pratt, State Geologist, and the survey was made under the auspices of the North Carolina Geological and Economic Survey by students of the University of North Carolina during their summer vacation. T. F. Hickerson, a member of the party, reported that they spent ten days "very pleasantly at Dr. C. P. Ambler's summer home before starting the survey at Bull Gap, ten miles east of Asheville. There were no wagon roads between Bull Gap and Stepps Gap near Mt. Mitchell, . . . there were scarcely any trails that could be traveled in safety with a horse." The section surveyed averaged 5,000 feet in altitude. The camp equipment, including seven tents, ten folding cots, clothes and two double blankets for each person, a stove and cooking equipment, tablewear, and rations, had to be packed on mules or portaged a distance of about seven miles over the steep and rough trails. �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 329 In 1912 a portion of the road between Linville and Altapass was constructed under the direction of Dr. Pratt, with one hundred men. The Appalachian Highway Company had been chartered to build the road, and people along the route were giving the right-of-way and were encouraged to buy stock. The portion between Altapass and Pineola was completed before work was stopped because of W odd War One. The surface was of sand, clay, and gravel. A toll road, it was expected to entice more tourists to the area, to have them stay longer and visit the inns along the scenic route. Locke Craig, an Asheville man, became governor of North Carolina in 1913. He designated two days in November of that year as "Good Roads Days." These were declared state holidays on which every able-bodied citizen was asked to strike a few blows for progress. They were part of a series of Good Roads Days in different states. Governor Craig went to his home county and, donning overalls, worked as a common laborer with the other citizens. The first new road in North Carolina to be built by state convicts was a seven mile stretch over Hickory Nut Gap of a road which was projected to run from Asheville to Charlotte. The General Assembly had provided for the upkeep of the road after its completion, although it was to be turned over to Buncombe, Henderson, and Rutherford counties for administration. The county commissioners of each county were to appoint a commissioner to have charge of upkeep and maintenance of the road. Sol Gallert of Rutherford County had prepared the bill authorizing state aid, and R. R. Williams of Buncombe County presented it. The bill required that five thousand dollars be raised locally for dynamite and tools. The Coxe Estate in Asheville gave one thousand, the town of Edneyville voted a bond issue and gave fifteen hundred, and private citizens subscribed $5,76r.6o. Gallert said, "I look to see the time when these hills will be the playground of America, the road lined with homes of summer visitors and the hills and valleys dotted with the homes of our mountain people." He estimated that the people of Rutherford and Buncombe counties had up to that time expended $soo,ooo in turnpike tolls "in the eternal damnation of their souls through cursing at being stuck axle deep in the mud, broken poles, and having to lead their horses up a wretched road they were paying the privilege of driving over." �3 30 / Part III: A Developing Economy Governor Craig when he opened the road officially on November seventh, 1915, declared, "I believe the most favored spot on earth is here in the glorious mountains of North Carolina. It is a land, an inheritance for us, with its marvelous climate, pure water, its brooks and streams and rivers, where we have no flies or very few of them, because a fly cannot live on these rocks; no malaria and no diseases save those we can ourselves get rid of." The state university began in 1914 holding annual good roads institutes at Chapel Hill, with lectures, conferences, and exchange of experiences. Only three of the counties of Western North Carolina were represented at the first instituteMadison, McDowell, and Rutherford. Many arguments as to how to raise money for the needed roads arose at the institutes. Practically all were agreed that the chain gang must continue, but equipment and materials were costly, and gradually the idea that bonds should be sold came up for debate. The question was who should issue the bonds, county or township, both practices being in use from place to place. In 1913 the General Assembly passed several laws permitting specific townships to sell bonds for road building, and one general law was passed which authorized townships to sell bonds upon receipt of a petition of voters by the county commissioners. With the responsibility left to local initiative, the building of roads was to continue to produce a hodge-podge of good roads near the county seats and very bad ones in outlying portions of each county. Governor Craig appointed a State Highway Commission in 1915, and the legislature appropriated $ro,ooo as its budget, to be used in advising the counties about road building. A breakthrough in federal aid for highways came in 1916 with an act to be administered by the United States Department of Agriculture. In order to participate, a state had to have an organization to raise half the funds to construct and maintain Federal Aid Roads. The next year the State Highway Commission was authorized to serve in this respect. Counties' responsibility for roads was still emphasized, and they were to furnish most of the state's half of the necessary funds for the new roads. The General Assembly now authorized expenditure of automobile license fees as a maintenance fund for a state highway system. Eighty-seven of the state's one hundred counties set up projects, and by January 1920 sixty-seven miles of road were completed in spite of the interruption caused by �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 33 I Hub-deep A casualty of travel on mud roads World War One. The objective was a system of roads from county-seat to county-seat. Roadbuilding in the mountains presented problems, but the railroads helped. During the winter of 1919-1920 District Engineer H. E. Noell was assigned the construction of a road over the mountain that had given the railroad builders so much trouble, from Old Fort to Ridgecrest. The old road was passable only in dry weather. It wound around the mountain as the railroad did. At times the Noell party had to take a train from Old Fort to Ridgecrest and work downhill toward Old Fort. Later Noell was assigned construction and maintenance work in Yancey, Mitchell, Avery, Burke, McDowell, Henderson, Polk, Rutherford, and Cleveland counties. His headquarters were in Marion, and to reach Avery County he had to travel eighty-five miles via Morganton, Lenoir, Blowing Rock, and Linville. On one occasion a team of two large horses was hitched �332 J Part III: A Developing Economy Fording the Swannanoa to his old Ford car to pull him out of the mud, and when they could pull no more an extra team was added. To work in the northern part of A very County he had to travel from Marion on the Clinchfield Railroad to Johnson City, spend the night, and catch the East Tennessee and Western North Carolina train (the narrow gauge line known as "Tweetsie") to Cranberry, travel over the project perhaps by horseback, return to Cranberry for the night, back to Johnson City for the next night, take the Clinchfield to work in Yancey and Mitchell Counties, where he used car or horseback, then to Marion by train. Until that time in most of the highway construction in Western North Carolina Asheville had been the hub, and the outlying areas in the mountains that had no railroads were still dependent on turnpikes. As late as 1915 Watauga County marketed its produce by covered wagon down the Blowing Rock-Lenoir Turnpike, a toll road which Watauga County �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 333 residents had the right to use free of toll. For other travelers on the turnpike a three-horse wagon cost sixty cents, and a car, seventy-five cents. Mrs. Gwyn Barlow, who kept the toll gate, said, "After they'd haul the mountain produce to Lenoir, they'd fill their wagons with supplies for the mountain stores. Often the wagons mired up hub deep." North Wilkesboro was another gateway to the so-called "Lost Provinces" of North Carolina: Watauga, Ashe, and Alleghany counties. The railroad into Ashe from Abingdon, Virginia, had been built by the Norfolk and Western only to tap the lumber resources of the county and did not connect with any other North Carolina point. Ashe County had closer relationships with Virginia than with other points in North Carolina. When Cameron Morrison of Charlotte ran for governor in 1920 he spoke at Wilkesboro, promising support for roads throughout the state. The "Lost Provinces" were unwilling to support any movement for internal improvements unless they would benefit, and Morrison was campaigning on a program of good roads, a state system with county upkeep. Later he devoted half of his inaugural address to the subject. The 1921 session of the General Assembly established the state highway system. Men from Northwestern North Carolina played a prominent part in the legislation, with support from both Democrats and Republicans. Chairman of the House Committee on Roads was Thomas C. (Tam) Bowie of Ashe County, and Rufus A. Daughton of Alleghany County was the leader of Democratic support for the bill. Newspapers called him the "Grand Old Man of North Carolina Politics." Both Bowie and Daughton had served in the legislature for a long time and were from the "Lost Provinces." D. D. Dougherty of the Appalachian Training School in Boone was the intermediary to secure Republican support for the measure because Frank Linney, State Chairman of the Republican Party, lived in Boone. A public hearing was held on the Daughton-Connor Bill (Bowie's name was added later), and twenty speakers were heard, one of whom was Dr. Mary Martin Sloop of Crossnore School, whose speech was acknowledged by the Greensboro Daily News as the best speech of the evening. She had long �334 / Part III: A Developing Economy Road scene near Webster Family travel engaged in mission work and knew "the horrors of the red clay road." In the House Bowie made the opening speech. Mr. Blaine Coffey (Republican) read a telegram from Frank Linney asking him to vote for the bill. In recognition of the priority of the needs of Western North Carolina, Miss Exum Clement of Buncombe County, the only woman member of the House, �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways f 335 was invited to preside at the third reading and passage of the Doughton-Conner-Bowie Bill, which passed 102 to 14. The Senate approved thirty-two to six, and a new era was about to begin. The act differed from Governor Morrison's proposal to continue county responsibility for roads. The law was amended many times by subsequent General Assemblies. The state assumed control of 5,500 miles of hard-surfaced and other dependable highways running to all county seats and to all principal towns, state parks, and principal state institutions and linking up with state highways of adjoining states and with national highways into national forest reserves by the most practicable routes. Special emphasis was placed on the development of agriculture, and the commercial and natural resources of the state. The law permitted the state to assume control of the state highways, to repair, construct, reconstruct, and maintain said highways at the expense of the entire state and to relieve the counties, cities, and towns of the state of this burden. The law of 1921 authorized a bond issue of $5o,ooo,ooo, a one cent a gallon tax on gasoline to retire the bonds, and an increase in the price of automobile licenses. A new highway commission was provided for with at least three Republican members in a total of ten in addition to the chairman. Each commissioner was to represent a highway district. Governor Morrison appointed Rufus A. Daughton of Sparta, John C. McBee of Bakersville, and J. D. Stikeleather of Asheville as members for the western districts. In addition to mapping out and beginning construction of new road proposals, a number of roads already begun were completed rapidly under direction of the commissioner. Among these was the Central Highway, which in Western North Carolina passed through Morganton, Marion, Asheville, and Marshall, first designated as State Route 10 and later as U. S. 70 Highway. Mountain terrain challenged the highway commission and the engineers. Surveyors often had to use ropes and ladders, and roads were built "over rocky mountains, under rocky mountains, and around rocky mountains." Sometimes a route chosen was not the most direct and least expensive one. J. G. Stikeleather of the Ninth Division in routing Highway US 64 between Franklin and Highlands decided on an expensive scenic route along the Cullasaja River. Federal aid was denied for the more expensive route, but the state built it. �336 / Part III: A Developing Economy Frank Page, Chairman of the State Highway Commission, reported in 1924 an appraisal of the 1921 law. "It does not have to be argued to them [the people] that roads have a civilizing influence, that through these means of communication the "Lost Provinces" of the northwest, beyond their impenetrable mountains and two days' journey from the capital of their state, have been brought within seven hours of respectable speed. . . . The whole state is knit together in this net of highways." By 1927, $us,ooo,ooo in bonds for road building had been authorized, and road building continued. Four years later the state assumed responsibility for maintenance of all of the secondary roads. The counties gave up equipment and prisoners and the state established thirty prison camps for highway workers under command of the State Highway Commission. Only one county in Western North Carolina, Buncombe, had been operating chain gangs during the nineteen-twenties. However, eleven of these counties had leased their convicts to other counties that used chain gangs. Prior to 1931 the State Highway Commission hired convicts from the counties for work on state highways and assigned convicts from the state prison to such work. North Carolina's laws had given the judge the option of sentencing a convicted man to the county roads or to the state prison, in case the sentence was for a term of less than ten years. Highway construction continued during the 1920's and 1930's with exciting new links being dedicated. For instance, in 1926 a new highway from Cowee Mountain Gap to Franklin was opened with a barbecue attended by hundreds of people from Macon and neighboring counties. Before the road was built most people in Macon County did their trading in Georgia or South Carolina, traveling via the Talullah Falls (Georgia) Railway. Persons wishing to go to Raleigh would take the train to Franklin, travel to Cornelia, Georgia, and change to the Southern Railroad to Greenville and Spartanburg, South Carolina, and then back into North Carolina. Travel by mail hack from Franklin was on a dirt road requiring seven hours between Franklin and Dillsboro. The hack left Franklin at four o'clock A.M. At Dillsboro the traveler took a train to Murphy or Asheville. Most persons in Franklin read newspapers published in Georgia or South Carolina because they arrived sooner than the North Carolina papers. �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 337 Chimney Rock, a natural phenomenon on the Hickory Nut Gorge R oad ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Work on the projected "Crest of the Blue Ridge Highway" had been halted when the United States entered World W ar One and was not resumed after the war. During 1933 a plan was made to connect the Shenandoah National Park with the Great Smoky Mountains National Park by a parkway along the crest of the mountains. Harley Jolley who wrote the history of the Blue Ridge Parkway gave Robert L. Daughton, resident of Allegh any County and member of the United States House of R epresentatives, much of the credit for the plan. At first the intention was to make the road self-liquidating by imposing �338 / Part III: A Developing Economy Civilian Conservation Corps worked on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The young men were given a chance to better their education. Note that in the 1930's the CCC was U .S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO integrated tolls on the users; however, North Carolina had the objective of removing all tolls from its highways, ferries, and bridges, and Governor J. C. B. Ehringhaus was opposed to a toll road. A sum of $4,00o,ooo from the funds allotted under the National Recovery Act was set aside for the building of the road as a "make work" project. (It is estimated that when complete the Blue Ridge Parkway will have cost $96,ooo,ooo.) A spirited rivalry concerning the route developed between North Carolina and Tennessee. Boosters in Tennessee wanted the parkway to cross through the northwest part of North Carolina into Tennessee and pass through the mountainous area to enter the Great Smoky Mountain National Park from the north. North Carolina's promoters, many of them residents of Asheville, wished the road to be confined to Virginia and North Carolina, to enter the park from the southeast. Secretary of the Interior Ickes finally, after a two year delay, chose a route that led directly south from Roanoke to the North Carolina line following the crest of the Blue Ridge to a point near Mount Mitchell, thence toward Asheville and by Waynesville to the park. The states of Virginia and North Carolina purchased �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 339 CCC men learned to use power tools. U .S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO the right of way and a scenic easement of four hundred feet on each side of the projected road at a cost of about $2,ooo,ooo each and presented the land to the federal government. Actual construction of the road was awarded to private contractors, but they were expected to employ as much local help as possible. Work such as planting and stabilizing the construction slopes, controlling erosion, and building fences was done by men in CCC camps established along the route and by emergency relief crews of men who lived nearby. Three utility areas and ten recreational areas were constructed in North Carolina. Much of the land through which the parkway passed was far from improved roads, and living conditions there had always been primitive. The opportunity to earn thirty cents an hour was new to this isolated population. Governor Ehringhaus asked Secretary Ickes to give priority to areas where need for employment was greatest and where �340 / Part III: A Developing Economy A mountain wonderland HUGH MORTON PHOTO the most scenic areas were located, and Ickes agreed, so the work was carried on piecemeal. Negotiations for the right to build the portion through the Cherokee Indian lands were the subject of controversy for five years. Eventually the state paid the Cherokees a price agreeable to them and agreed to build a state road for them from Soco Gap to the village of Cherokee, and the right of way was obtained. After World War II that stretch of the road was completed. The portion that will run along the southeast side of Grandfather Mountain, now under construction, remains the last unfinished link in the original project. Congress assigned the Blue Ridge Parkway to the National Park Service for maintenance and management. Designed for non-commerical use, the parkway offers an opportunity for quiet, leisurely driving and enjoyment of natural scenery which annually attracts millions of tourists. In I 970 it was used by I 2, 789,724 persons, and it had become one of North Carolina's most important tourist assets. �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 341 In spite of the state take-over of secondary roads in 193 r, their condition had not been much improved when Kerr Scott became governor in 1949. The new chief executive was a farmer who had known the problem of the dirt road all his life, and he asked the legislature to approve a secondary road bond issue of $2oo,ooo,ooo and a one-cent-a-gallon increase in the gasoline tax to retire the bonds. The state constitution required that a proposal for a bond issue of that size must be approved by a referendum, and opponents believed that the voters would turn down the issue. But the people did not reject a proposal that would get them out of the mud. Cities and counties with good railway connections voted overwhelmingly against the bond issue but rural counties won the election. Additional highway legislation was made essential during the Scott administration by the increasing number of times per week the rural folk visited their nearby towns following the improvement of secondary roads. The constantly increasing number of motor cars and trucks caused city streets to be incapable of handling the traffic. The Powell Bill, so called because State Senator Junius K. Powell's signature led on the bill as it was introduced, provided state funds for municipalities. Appropriations are based on population and non-state highway system street mileage within each city and town. Congress in 1954 provided for an Urban Planning Assistance Program to finance overall economic development of counties and towns, and subsequently the General Assembly passed the legislation necessary for state participation. These two acts led to area-wide studies to develop municipal thoroughfare plans, and several cities and towns in Western North Carolina engaged in long-range community planning which included traffic handling. Among the first to do so were Asheville, Morganton, Brevard, Mt. Airy, and Marion. The State Department of Conservation and Development created a community planning division to cooperate with smaller municipalities in developing their plans. Scott, near the end of his four years in office, summarized his success in road building: " ... when I leave the governorship less than a month from now, North Carolina will have more than doubled the mileage of paved roads it had four years ago. New hard-surfaced roads will total 14,810 miles. That's 179 more than the 14,631 miles paved in North Carolina in all the years previous to 1949. 0 0 ." �342 / Part III: A Developing Economy VOTE ON THE ROAD BOND ISSUE, 1949 County For Against Surry Watauga Ashe Caldwell Wilkes Alleghany Burke Rutherford McDowell Polk Yancey Jackson Madison Cherokee Mitchell Macon Avery Clay Swain Graham Henderson Haywood Transylvania Buncombe 5.479 5.344 4.575 3,097 8,397 1,496 4,484 2,740 2,157 I ,588 4.351 3.794 3.738 3.449 2,788 2,374 2,039 I,29I 1,820 1,402 1,722 5,097 1,748 5,658 965 269 243 1,620 407 322 r ,586 3,229 737 323 54 393 262 296 85 546 251 52 155 II I 2,130 933 762 8,529 Source: Waynick, North Carolina Roads, p. 59. In 193 I when the state assumed jurisdiction over the secondary roads there were 54,000 miles of such roads in the state. In 1961 the length had been increased to 58,ooo miles, of which approximately forty-five per cent were paved. Yet the western counties had only twenty-eight percent of their roads paved. Roads are added to the state highway system by the Highway Commission after petitions have been presented by the citizens, if the said road meets the requirements set up by the commission. Such addition is made on the basis of priority rating. Governor Dan Moore in 1965 asked the General Assembly to approve a $3oo,ooo,ooo bond issue for a highway program. It did. As required by the state constitution the bond issue had to be adopted by referendum, and the issue received the overwhelming approval of the people of the state, 245,194 of the 320,000 votes cast. Working for the road bond program was �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 343 the Governor's Committee for Better Roads, only four members of which were from the twenty-four counties of Western North Carolina. The governor no doubt knew that these counties would favor the proposal. The bill as passed by the legislature divided the funds into three parts: for primary roads, secondary roads, and cities and towns. Funds for secondary roads were to be allocated on the basis of the number of unpaved roads in each county. The State Highway Commission had in 1961 set up a fifteen-year plan for road construction contracted for on a basis of competitive bidding. No longer were highways to be built by prisoners or free labor, although prison camps remained and inmates were employed for highway maintenance and improvement. After 1916 the United States furnished funds for highway building but not for maintenance. Most of this money was acquired by a four-cent-a-gallon gasoline tax. The funds were available for primary, secondary, and urban roads, to be matched by the state with equal funds. Roads in Western North Carolina that were continuous through several states were designated as United States Highways: 70 (the old Central Highway); 64, which from Morganton dipped southward through Rutherford, Henderson, Transylvania, Macon, Clay, and Cherokee counties; 19 and 23, which passed through northward from Asheville to the Tennessee line and westward from Asheville; 25 along the old Buncombe Turnpike; 74 from Charlotte, which terminated at Asheville on the west; 421, 321, and 221, all of which met in Boone, 221 connecting with Ashe and Alleghany on the way to Virginia; and 21, which passed through Surry County. These were primary roads and were frequently improved and sometimes shortened in mileage. Yet many of their miles were narrow, hilly, curving, and slow. Almost half of the federal aid funds now are being allocated to the interstate highways, a new series of national and defense roads on which the United States has been working since 1941. It was originally hoped that the system would be completed by 1972. The roads are four-lane divided highways for the cost of which the federal government pays ninety per cent. When completed they will serve several counties in Western North Carolina. The most important of them for this area is Interstate 40, which begins in Greensboro and passes through Burke, McDowell, Buncombe, and Haywood counties. It will eventually reach Los Angeles, and it is to be connected with Atlanta by �344 / Part III: A Developing Economy Interstate 26, with which Interstate 77 has a link through Surry County on a route through West Virginia, Virginia, and North Carolina. Interstate 77 connects with Interstate 40. The Appalachian Region Development Act passed by Congress in 1965 was described by Governor Moore as "the most successful program yet devised to help people help themselves." The priorities were established by the states participating, and Governor Sanford named twenty-nine counties in Western North Carolina to take part. The states initiated their own programs. The plan was one of fundmatching, and in North Carolina the emphasis was placed chiefly on roads, four lane corridors to swing out from the Interstate 26 and 40 interchange at Asheville to provide new and improved access to the market areas of Atlanta, Chattanooga, ROADS IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA, 1961 Paved Mileage Alleghany Ashe Avery Buncombe Burke Caldwell Cherokee Clay Graham Haywood Henderson Jackson McDowell Macon Madison Mitchell Polk Rutherford Surry Swain Transylvania Watauga Wilkes Yancey Unpaved Mileage Total Mileage 44·8 94.0 52-7 420.3 260.5 r88.r 102.7 58.2 45·0 146·7 18o.r 83.0 !82.4 I I !.7 102.9 62.5 II4.0 370.7 238.0 74-3 9!.7 87.6 234·0 76.4 345·1 581.4 188.9 539·0 367.1 358·3 350.0 143-9 !24-7 287·7 468.2 349·4 25 !.5 423-5 405.! 200.7 250·4 549-7 619-3 !09.0 2!7·9 364.7 859-9 200.8 389·9 675·4 24I.6 959-3 627.6 546·4 452-7 202.1 !69·7 434-4 648·3 432-4 433-9 535-2 509.0 26J.2 364·4 920.4 857-3 183.3 309.6 452·3 1,093-9 272.2 Source: North Carolina State Highway Commission, Secondary Roads Maintenance Improvement Construction, January I, 1962. �From Indian Trails to Broad Highways / 345 and Cincinnati. Progress has been slow. By June 1968 two by-passes had been constructed, one around Waynesville and the other around Weaverville. Counties not touched by the interstate system are Alleghany, Ashe, Wilkes, Watauga, Avery, Mitchell, Yancey, Madison, Cherokee, Clay, Jackson, Graham, Transylvania, Swain, and Rutherford. The Appalachian highways if built as planned will serve Cherokee, Graham, Swain, Clay, Macon, Jackson, and Madison. The fifteen-year plan of the State Highway Commission (1961) classified its trunk and feeder roads on a basis of first, second, and third priorities. Alleghany, Ashe, Watauga, Avery, Mitchell, and Yancey counties were placed on second and third priority lists, with no immediate plans for widening or straightening many of their roads in the near future. Although the section has a long way to go before its road problems have been solved, anyone would probably agree with John Harden, historian of North Carolina roads: "Hardly any instrument of organized society is so vital to the people as the highway. It is the link between country and town, the route to the marketplace, the way of knowledge and education, the artery of commerce, the call of adventure, the measure of civilization.'' In North Carolina, the "Good Roads State," roads have been all of these things. In fact, Western North Carolina owes practically all of its progress since 1921 to its roads and its schools. But the mountain region has always been discriminated against by the legislature because lawmakers from the east have dominated the state government. Money begets money, and improved mountain highways will pay tenfold dividends from the vast numbers of tourists who will come to this region of beauty and recreation. �CHAPTER SIXTEEN Business and Industry "R eader ... fix your mind on a Southern 'gentleman' .... Observe the routine of his daily life. See him rise in the morning from a Northern bed, and clothe himself in Northern apparel; see him walk across the floor on a Northern carpet, and perform his ablutions out of a Northern ewer and basin .... " So Hinton R. Helper follows this Southern gentleman through a day in which everything he uses is of Northern manufacture. Helper's diatribe against the South (1857) for allowing the North to do all of the South's manufacturing could not have been directed against Western North Carolina where most of the furniture and textiles were of home or local manufacture. For example, as early as r 820 cabinet makers in the part of Wilkes County that became Caldwell County had establishments that made furniture for people on order, serving a wide area. One employed six men. And for a number of years before the Civil War some German cabinet makers had a factory in Asheville and produced from mountain woods fine work which they carted around Western North Carolina and the neighboring states to sell. It brought a high price from the well-to-do customers along their routes. If mountain people did change to "store-bought" household goods after the railroads came, they later reversed to partial self-sufficiency as may be perceived from this parody on Helper from the Asheville Citizen in 1963, concerning Haywood County: "Mr. Average citizen in Haywood finds products of his native county on every hand. As he awakes in the morning, flips on 346 �Business and Industry / 347 the light- that ... is made in one of the largest hydro-electric plants in the East; lifts his head from a foam rubber pillow; shifts his weight to the edge of a companion product, foam mattress; slips his feet into a pair of Haywood slippers; pulls back the drapes made in Haywood. His pajamas were no doubt made on looms with vital hard rubber parts made in Haywood. He finishes dressing, getting garments from drawers of furniture made in his native county. In the dining room he sits down at a breakfast suite made not too far up the street from his home. He makes a few hurried notes in his memo pad- paper Haywood made - and obliges the wife by writing another note for the milkman to leave more milk in plastic coated cartons, all made in Haywood. Now into his $25 shoes- soles made in Haywood, he is on his way to work .... Between the house and garage his chest swells as he surveys the thick carpet of grass on his lawn- result of Haywood made fertilizer. The car hums. The fan belt turns the water pump circulating water through the radiator hose- both items Haywood made .... He is greeted at the office by his auditor who hands him an encouraging profit and loss sheet for study. Needless to say the finer paper is also Haywood made. The burley in his cigarette could have come from one of the r,Soo farms producing burley in the county. At lunch, a hot roast beef sandwich followed by apple pie with ice cream reminds him that these products are perhaps part of the $7 million farm income for the county. As Mr. Average Citizen retires for the night, he gets to thinking ofhow Haywoodmade products played important roles in his life throughout the day. Drifting off into deep natural, restful sleep, he is heard to mumble: 'Haywood- the State's Best Balanced County. Yes, sir, and about the most self-contained.'" The history of economic enterprise in Western North Carolina falls into four categories: individual enterprise, investment of outside capital in the area, large-scale locally-owned businesses, and consolidation of locally-owned industries by outside companies which are often holding companies and operate in a number of states. The one form of business that all in Western North Carolina became accustomed to was the general store. Such stores were distributed throughout the counties. In the nineteenth century �348 J Part III: A Developing Economy supplies for the most remote stores came from wholesalers who were retailers as well. The supply merchant sent wagons pulled by oxen and loaded with mountain produce to one of the nearest large towns. The wagons returned with merchandise to sell or trade at retail and also to provide rural merchants with their stocks. Fred 0. Scroggs of Hayesville has the account books, in beautiful penmanship, of Nelson Strange, his greatgrand-father, who was a merchant at Brasstown and Hayesville, Clay County. His invoices show that he sent wagons to Gainesville, Athens, and Augusta, Georgia, and to Maryville, Tennessee. Nelson Strange had six slaves whom he freed when they grew older. He paid a local blacksmith $67.50 to make one of the wagons for the long journeys. Among the items sold that were on the account book in the year I 86o were these: coffee, vials of oil, vials of drops, vials of peppermint, candles, castor oil, snuff, tobacco, nails, sets of plates, calico, skein silk and ribbons, vials of Godfrey's syrup, pens and envelopes, turpentine, preserve dishes, flannel, wool, worsted, brush and blacking, borax, coffee mills, plow lines, pen stocks, sugar, sets of knives, cigars, silk handkerchiefs, tumblers, brimstone (sulphur used to preserve fruit), sheepskin, fry pan and spoon, bridle and bit, 6oo fish hooks, spelling books, shirts, pepper, rice, court plaster, soap, paper of tacks, paper of needles, cinnamon, roping, pair of combs, bell, suspenders, cravats, and powder and shot (by the pound). A shoemaker made shoes on order in the store. Among the items traded by the people to the merchants, none were more important than crude botanicals used for drugs. The catalogue of G. W. F. Harper of Caldwell County for 1876 offered for sale the botanicals that he had taken in trade, which he described as "crude medicinal herbs, roots, barks, seeds, flowers, etc. Goods neatly and compactly pressed in bales of 200 to 500 pounds each, and furwarded in prime order .... " The produce book of the G. W. F. Harper store for the same year shows that in September, October, and November, the largest sums paid to individual customers totaled respectively $59.60, $44.28, and $143.18. The items included the following: burdock, mint, hellebore, flax seed, butterfly, beeswax, butter, beth root or purple trillium, blood root, lob seal, Indian turnip, catnip, may apple, skull cap, lion's tongue, feathers, dried fruit, eggs, bitter root, boneset, seneca, star root, angelica, ginseng, sassafras bark, lady slippers. The most valuable item was ginseng, for which the store paid one dollar per pound. �Business and Industry / 349 Collecting medicinal herbs ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Calvin Josiah Cowles of Elkville and later of Wilkesboro, Wilkes County, developed a thriving root and herb business in that county in mid-nineteenth century. He traveled annually to Philadelphia, Boston, and Washington, D. C., to do business with northern merchants. Later Arthur Cowles moved the root and herb business to Gap Creek in Ashe County.* J. D. Cameron's Handbook of North Carolina for 1893 claimed that North Carolina provided the largest supply and the greatest variety of herbs for botanic medicines gathered in the United States. At that time the Messrs. Wallace of Statesville gathered herbs from the entire state, employing three hundred agents in contracting for them and collecting them, chiefly in the mountains. "On the Atlantic slope of the Blue Ridge," Cameron wrote, "there are said to grow no less than 2,500 varieties of plants used in the Materia Medica. . . . The yearly business of the Wallace firm reaches nearly 2,ooo,ooo pounds in leaves, bark, and roots." At that time ginseng h ad advanced from one dollar to between two to three dollars per pound. This field of business still survives. In 1970 the Wilcox Drug Company of Boone is the largest crude botanical drug company in the South, sending out trucks to buying depots and stores * Calvin Cowles' store records contain accounts of customers in northern cities. One for r857 included sales of skins: bear, mink, otter, oppossum, muskrat, raccoon, gray fox, rabbit, mole, and pole cat. �3 so / Part III: A Developing Economy to collect the herbs. It cleans, processes, and ships crude botanical drugs: cherry bark, ginseng, passion flower, witch hazel bark and leaves, and deer tongue. One million pounds of these herbs are shipped each year. Associated with the drug company is the Appalachian Evergreen Company which ships holly, hemlock, and galax leaves to all parts of the world. More than 2000 people derive part of their income from the sale of these products. Other crude drug firms in operation in 1970 are the Blue Ridge Drug Company in West Jefferson and the Greer Drug and Chemical Company in Lenoir. Except in Asheville there were few stores other than general stores in Western North Carolina in the nineteenth century. A few county seats boasted a hardware dealer, a fertilizer store, and a drug store; a few businesses were specializing in farm implements, and there were nurserymen in four places. Investment in land for speculation has characterized the history of Western North Carolina from the beginning, when tracts larger than could possibly be developed were acquired. In 1796 a Philadelphia financier, Tench Coxe, purchased for himself and associates more than soo,ooo acres in Buncombe, Rutherford, and Mecklenburg counties. As the counties were divided so were the lands originally belonging to Coxe and his associates who were called the Speculation Land Company.* In 1819, 399,090 acres of the land were deeded to Augustus Sackett of New York, and the company became the New York Speculation Land Company. Sackett advertised land for sale and employed James Dyer Justice as his agent. Men in succeeding generations of the Justice family represented the company until 1920 when G. W. Justice and Judge Fred McBrayer bought the remaining land, approximately 10,000 acres. Throughout the hundred years as land had been sold the mineral rights had been retained by the company, an item of importance when gold was being mined in Rutherford County. From time to time other companies were organized for the purpose of buying and selling Western North Carolina lands. * Tench Coxe probably never visited his lands, but another Tench Coxe was admitted to the bar in Buncombe County between I804-I8I2. Coxe created artificial towns and advertised them. Papers of G. W. Justice contain much of Coxe's advertising. �Business and Industry / 351 Such was a company of Pennsylvanians that acquired I 30,000 acres in six separate tracts which they advertised in the North. The Baltimore Commercial, June 3, 1876, contained this description: "This part of the State is the land of corn and cattle, clear streams, speckled trout, bouyant spirits, 'stalwart men and bonnie lasses.' The mountains of Western North Carolina are fine grazing lands to their very tops. . . . This beautiful western country ... as a summer resort is justly admitted to be the Switzerland of America." An example of individuals who dealt in land on a large scale was Calvin J. Cowles of Wilkes County who owned at one time I4,000 acres in Western North Carolina chiefly in Wilkes, Alexander, Ashe, and Caldwell counties and advertised his land resources around the nation. The Cowles papers in the Southern Historical Collection at Chapel Hill contain many details of his land business. Mining was promoted by S. C. Kerr, State Geologist, who devoted extensive study to the mineral potential of Western North Carolina, and outside capital was attracted for extracting the deposits. Nothing like the gold fever, which had called large numbers of people to Burke, McDowell, and Rutherford counties from I 829 to I 8 33 and produced gold estimated at from $6,ooo,ooo to $I6,ooo,ooo worth of the metal, occurred again, but mining was an important enterprise in the area in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. The North Carolina State Exposition in Raleigh in I884 exhibited minerals and the Authorized Visitors Guide listed the state's mines by counties. The following counties had iron mines: Alleghany, 3 ; Ashe, 4; Cherokee, 6; Mitchell, 2; Watauga, 2; and Yancey, I. There were gold mines in Ashe, I ; Burke, 7; Caldwell, 5; Clay, 5; Cherokee, 4; Jackson, 3; Macon, II; McDowell, 5; Polk, 6; Rutherford, 4; Watauga, 2; Yancey, r. Copper was mined in Alleghany, I ; Ashe, 8; Haywood, I ; Jackson, 9; Madison, I ; and Watauga, 3. The mica mines were Ashe, 2; Haywood, 2; Jackson, 3; Macon, 4; Madison, I ; Mitchell, I I; Watauga, 2; Yancey, IO. There were also scattered sulphur, silver, lead, corundum, and asbestos mines. The Cranberry iron mines in Mitchell County had been worked since the early I 82o's and were the most famous ones �352 / Part III: A Developing Economy in the state. The East Tennessee and Western North Carolina Railroad was built from Johnson City to Cranberry to facilitate the transfer of the raw ore to the North. Mitchell and Yancey counties produced most of the mica used in the United States. L. M. Warlick appealed to Thomas Settle, Congressman, to prevent the placing of mica on the free list of the tariff law that was being considered in 1893. He pointed out that the chief competitor was India where miners worked for from five to seven cents a day while in North Carolina they earned from seventy-five cents to one dollar per day. A mica mine in Mitchell County, the "Clarissey", was three hundred feet deep and the mica at that depth was said to be as fine grade as that taken from the top. A half interest in the mine sold about r883 for $IO,ooo. Another mine near the Clarissey had, up to r886, produced $IO,ooo worth of mica. Zeigler and Grosscup believed mica to yield more money than any other metal in Western North Carolina in the r88o's. The Ray mines near Burnsville in Yancey County were considered the best in the area, but both Mitchell and Yancey were mining large quantities to be used for stove fronts and mica washers. Mica continues to be extracted. For example the Deneen Mica Company, Inc., employs forty-five people and ships its product all over the nation and to foreign countries for use in roofing, oil well drilling, and other fields. The Spruce Pine Mica Company, which employs about sixty persons, produces much mica for electronic equipment. However it imports practically all the raw mica used from Brazil and India, certain African countries, Australia, and Argentina, because local production of fine mica is so small. The raw mica must be split to a thickness sometimes of r/2 thousandth of an inch, without scratching. Workers in Spruce Pine for several generations have engaged in this painstaking work. Mica furnished by this company was used for some of the parts in Telstar and for the Apollo satellite program. Feldspar, a byproduct of the mica mines, was for years piled up as waste, but as time passed it became more valuable than mica. The Feldspar Corporation, which has its principal office in Spruce Pine, has plants in three other locations, two outside the state, all completely mechanized. The Spruce Pine plant employs 170 persons and produces feldspar, sand, and mica. It is the largest producer of its kind in the world. Each plant maintains a research laboratory. It is claimed that a fully automatic �Business and Industry / 353 Mica mining from an open pit near Spruce Pine NATIONAL PARK SERVICE filter plant to eliminate stream pollution returns the copious amount of water used in the process of froth flotation to the river free of contaminants. The Ore Knob copper mine in the southeastern part of Ashe County had been worked since the middle of the nineteenth century, but a well-planned and systematic operation was established after the Civil War and the mine became one of the best-known in the state. A fall in the price of copper caused the owners to shut it down in the r88o's. Efforts to reoperate the mine were made unsuccessfully from time to time. During the I950's the mine reopened but it closed in I962. The copper ore reached by the present shafts was exhausted. From Mitchell to Cherokee counties there are extensive deposits of kaolin. In Jackson County near Dillsboro and Sylva extensive works were established in the r88o's to refine the material before sending it to New Jersey to be made into porcelain and pottery products. The Harris Clay Company, founded by Charles). Harris in r888, is in operation today, the single producer in North Carolina, having bought out its competitors. In I960 the Harris family sold the company to C. P. Edwards, III, but it is still under the name Harris Clay Company. It employs �3 54 / Part III: A Developing Economy 103 workers, owns hundreds of acres of land in Mitchell County from which it will extract kaolin, and sells to General Electric for the making of electric porcelain, to the Syracuse China Company, and the Shenango Pottery Company. Electric power for the mountain area was at first provided by individual promoters. Asheville had a steam plant that produced electric current for street lights and for the street railways. Hydroelectric power in Asheville was first furnished when William Trotter Weaver of Buncombe County saw the potential of the French Broad River, acquired a location five miles from the city and developed it. A granite dam was built and power was produced for Asheville businesses and industries. Mark Killian, who had a flour mill and a wagon works, built the first water power electric plant for Waynesville about 1903. Then in 1905 J. B. Sloan and others in Waynesville erected a power plant on the Pigeon River that furnished power to the community for twenty-five years. These two examples could be repeated in various county seats in the annals of the early twentieth century. Electricity was essential to the growing educational institutions. The first electricity provided for Cullowhee Normal and Industrial School was made (1909) by use of a gasoline engine. A few years later a local corn-and-wheat mill at the river was purchased and a new electric generator was installed, which provided all of the electric power used on the campus until 1939. At Appalachian Training School in 1915 a dam of heavy timber, ten feet high, was built on the South Fork of New River and a power house was erected on the bank, to produce electricity for the school and later for the town. Boone's electrical needs are still supplied by the university-owned New River Power and Light Company. In time municipal power plants were created in Elk Park, Avery County; Bryson City, Swain County; Franklin and Highlands, Macon County; and Andrews, Cherokee County.* On the Broad River in 1926 Dr. Lucius B. Morse and associates created Lake Lure by a dam across the Rocky Broad River * Most county seat towns built power plants for electric lights. Elkin built a municipal plant in 1926, with a dam on Elkin Creek. It was sold to the Southern Public Utilities Company which also moved into North Wilkesboro and Mount Airy. �Business and Industry / 355 and built a power house for the resort, as years earlier the dam that created Lake Kanuga had been used to furnish power for the summer residential community. The next stage in the development of electrical power came when the Duke Power and the Carolina Power and Light companies absorbed existing companies and built huge dams and power plants in Western North Carolina. The Carolina Power and Light Company built a plant on the French Broad, and on the Pigeon River they built one of the largest power plants in the state. Duke Power Company created Lake James in 1916-I923 from the North Fork of the Catawba and the Linville rivers and from smaller tributaries of the two. It covers 65IO acres and has a shoreline of approximately 150 miles. In 1963 another plant was added which is eleven percent hydroelectric, 89 percent of its power being generated by steam. The Tallassee Power Company built the Cheoah and Santeetlah plants for industrial power to be used in Tennessee. Then came the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) and also the North Carolina Rural Electrification Authority (REA) to stimulate the building of rural power lines. The Nantahala Power and Light Company built Nantahala Lake in Clay and Macon counties in 1942, with a shoreline of thirty miles and an area of 1605 acres. The dam is used for generation of electricity. The topography, the volume and the even flow of streams, the physical settings for power sites, and the abundant rainfall evenly distributed throughout the year make the mountain region ideal as a source of water-generated electric power. The mountain streams are capable of developing tremendous amounts of cheap and abundant water power, one of the area's chief assets. North Carolina ranks first among the Southern states in potential power. Western North Carolina's first cotton mill, the Elkin Manufacturing Company, has been mentioned. Surprisingly it was spared by Stoneman's raiders in 1865. In Buncombe County John Cairns, a native of Scotland, came to Reems Creek in I 868 and started a woolen mill. It had sixteen looms and 8 12 spindles. Farmers brought their wool to the mill and exchanged it for material to clothe their families. Three types of cloth were made: jeans, a rough weave; a hard finished material for suits; �356 / Part III: A Developing Economy and a soft material for women's dresses, skirts, and coats. The mill operated until 1914 when it was converted to a grist mill and made flour and meal until 1954. In 1869 J. F. and W. A. Moore started the Green Hill cotton mill at Mt. Airy, with twenty-one looms and 1000 spindles. It could produce 700 yards of sheeting and 250 pounds of warp in a day. In 1877 at Elkin two new mills were started in I 877. The Gwyn ville Woolen and Flouring Mills with 240 spindles was put into operation by L. L. Gwyn and Alexander Chatham. It could produce roo pounds of wool rolls and I oo pounds of spun yarn per day. The Elkin Valley Mills with two looms and 240 spindles was started for woolen manufacture. It also had a flour mill attached. The Gwynville Mills has grown into the Chatham Manufacturing Company, one of the very large woolen mills, a leading producer of blankets, upholstery material, woolen suitings and apparel fabrics. Chatham purchased Gwyn's interest in 1890. Alexander Chatham was succeeded by Hugh, Thurmond, and Hugh Gywn Chatham, II. Mrs. Hugh Gwyn Chatham II was a Morehead, and in 1957 Chatham acquired the Leaksville Woolen Mills, the oldest continuous woolen mill in the South, founded by John Morehead in 1853. The Chatham plant covers 120 acres, has soo,ooo square feet of floor space, and employs 2500 people. When Chatham prospers, Elkin prospers. Mt. Airy has nineteen textile, hosiery, or apparel firms among its fifty-seven manufacturers. Surry County has become an industrial center, with textiles its leading product. In the 188o's a number of villages had individuals who did wool-carding, to relieve home weavers of that step in the home manufacture of textiles: Weaverville, Robbinsville, Waynesville and Pigeon Valley, Flat Rock, and Dysartville (McDowell County). Before the Civil War a group of four enterprising men, Samuel Patterson, Edmund Jones, James C. Harper, and James Harper, of Caldwell County started a cotton factory in the village of Patterson. It supplied warp for home looms in the area and was powered by the waters of the Y adkin River until it was burned in 1865 by Stoneman's cavalry. In 1872 it was replaced by a second mill, this time with eighteen looms, 960 spindles, and a capacity to produce 6oo yards of sheeting per day, 250 pounds of cotton yarn, and 150 pounds of wool yarn, its three products. A second cotton mill was founded in 1883 by P. G. Moore and N. H. Guy. Within a few years a number �Business and Industry / 357 of thriving mills were in operation in Caldwell County: the Lenoir Cotton Mill (1901); the Hudson Cotton Manufacturing Company (1904); Dudley Shoals Cotton Mill at Granite Falls (1906); Falls Manufacturing Company (191 5-19I6); Southern Manufacturing Company (I922-I923); the last three founded by D. H. Warlick; Whitnel Cotton Mill (1907), established by ]. 0. White and J. L. Nelson for whom the community of Whitnel was named; the Moore Mill at Valmead; the Steele Cotton Mill ( r 9 I 8) ; by T. H. Broyhill and R. L. Steele; the Caldwell Cotton Mill at Hudson by R. L. Gwyn. Meanwhile in Rutherford County Simpson Bobo Tanner and Raleigh Rutherford Haynes, with a number of associates, built cotton mills along the Second Broad River. In I 887 Tanner and J. S. Spencer of Charlotte and others including Haynes organized the company and built the Henrietta Mills of which Tanner served as general manager. In I892 Haynes built the Florence Mill in Forest City, of which he was president until he resigned to give his full attention to the Cliffside Mills in 1901. Meanwhile in 1896 the Caroleen Mill, of which Haynes was a large stockholder, was built. Later S. B. Tanner and his son K. S. Tanner built the Spindale group of mills and the town of Spindale. The establishment of mills in Rutherford County gave the farmers a sale for their cotton, the employees a livelihood, and so benefited the merchants and the economy of the county in general. Forest City, in lower Rutherford County, grew into a very attractive city. It was earlier called Burnt Chimney for a chimney which survived a fire at the small crossroads community. A village had started there, was incorporated in I877, was largely destroyed by fire in I886, and was rebuilt. The name was changed by law in I 887 to Forest City. Three years later a cotton mill was constructed but it failed in I 89 5. In I 897 the Florence Mill with I2,200 spindles gave new life to the town, a mill village housed workers from other parts of the county, and the name Forest City became more appropriate. Banks, newspapers, civic clubs and service organizations cooperated in making Forest City a model city. Haynes had a railroad built to connect the mills at Avondale and Cliffside with the main line from Charlotte and Wilmington. The presence of railroads was essential to the development of the textile mills in Rutherford County. From I900 to I930 there was a new type of growth for the textile industry in the South, a great migration of Northern �3 58 / Part III: A Developing Economy industries because of Southern encouragement, low production costs, nearby raw materials, and non-union cheap labor. The South profited greatly from this influx but the workers were often exploited. In 1927 the average annual earnings in North Carolina were $691 compared with $966 in Massachusetts, $1053 in Rhode Island, and $1029 in New Hampshire. Southern workers survived not because of the low cost of living but because of their low standard of living. Except for rent, living costs were higher in the South than in the North. Women and children worked in the mills sixty-six and even seventy-two hours per week. Longer hours and lower pay gave Southern mill owners an advantage over Northern ones. The usual age for beginning work was fourteen. While most of the mountain people owned the land on which they lived, it was necessary for them to leave their homes in order to work in the mills. The companies built cheap houses, often poorly constructed and cold, unpainted, high on stilts above the ground, for the mill villages. Stores were operated by the companies, often charging exorbitant prices but offering credit. In 1910 Carroll Baldwin of Baltimore built a plant and mill village near Marion because of available labor and railway transportation. A good many Marion citizens bought stock in the company, but a controlling interest was retained by the Baldwin family, and following World War One conditions became very bad. Miss Sally Baldwin who had inherited the control lived in Baltimore and knew nothing of conditions at the mill. Workers labored in two twelve-hour shifts, sixty-six hours per week, in unsanitary surroundings. Tubercular employees spat on the floor. The dust-covered floor was swept while the workers were on the job, but it was never scrubbed. Workers' diet consisted of corn meal, bread, greens, salt back, very few fresh vegetables, no fruit, little fresh meat or milk. The incidence of pellagra was high. There was a song, I'm going to starve. Everybody will, Cause you can't make a livin' In a cotton mill." In 1929 the stretch-out system was instituted; workers had almost no rest periods. Twenty minutes were added to the twelve-hour day. Workers were earning from $5 to $13 a week. They decided to strike. Employees at the nearby Clinchfield Mill joined the Baldwin strikers. They were helped to form a �Business and Industry / 3 59 union and a charter was granted by the United Textile Workers (UTW). As the local had no welfare funds to tide the strikers over the period of unemployment, aid was sent from several organizations outside Marion. Money sent from Northern states was used to buy food. During the strike the workers turned to mountain activities, carving and whittling, building furniture; they had a string band with twelve pieces with a number of two and three piece combinations and soloists. They composed songs about their suffering; old tunes with new words covered every phase of the strike. Many workers were removed from their homes because they had participated. The strike lasted from July till September when an agreement was reached. Hours were to be reduced and wages were to be increased as the company saw fit. There was to be no discrimination against strike leaders. Those who had been discharged were to be reinstated. The Baldwin company was faithless. Another strike resulted. Six strikers were shot, four in the back. Those accused as killers of the strikers were acquitted on December 21, "so they could go home for Christmas," according to one member of the jury. Several union leaders were convicted on charges brought against them by the mill. Alfred Hoffman, an organizer of craft unions who came in after the strike had begun, was fined $1000 and sentenced to jail for thirty days for his activities in Marion. Labor conditions have improved, but wages are still less than in the North. Marion has other textile mills, the Clinchfield Manufacturing Company, the Cross Cotton Mills, the Washington Mills, five hosiery mills, two knitting mills, and at nearby Sevier, the American Thread Company. Marion is served by the Southern and Clinchfield railroads. Valdese has an unusual history. It was an experiment in colonization by a European colony planted near the close of the nineteenth century. It was developed by a group of Waldenses who had for centuries refused to accept the dogmas of the Catholic Church and instead worshipped as they believed the early Christians had. Migrating to an area of narrow valleys and steep mountains in the Cottian Alps in Savoy, now Italy, they were able to eke out a living in spite of persecutions in 1476, 1555, and 1686. In the seige of 1686, made by the Duke �360 / Part III: A Developing Economy of Savoy at the command of King Louis XIV of France, many W aldenses were massacred. Little groups that managed to escape to Switzerland procured financial aid from King William III of England. Using guerilla tactics and weapons purchased with money from England, they were able to regain possession of their valleys. Persecution did not end until I 848 when they were granted full religious liberties and freedom of conscience by the King of Savoy. The population increased so rapidly that the small area that had long been their home was unable to support them, and groups began to migrate to the Western Hemisphere, going to Uruguay, Brazil, Argentina, Missouri, and Utah. Thus it was that Marvin F. Scaife, president of the Morganton Land and Improvement Company, who learned about the crowded conditions in the Waldensian valleys, offered to sell the Waldenses roo,ooo acres of land in the mountains of North Carolina for $so,ooo, to be paid over a twenty year period. The two farmers who were sent to decide whether to accept the offer rejected the wo,ooo acres offered to them, and they were taken to examine various sites until they selected a ten thousand acre tract between Morganton and Connelly Springs, about which they were not enthusiastic because of the poor soil of sand, clay, and rock. Twenty-nine Waldenses and their pastor Doctor Charles Albert Tron arrived in Burke County in I 893. A corporation was formed with a board of directors consisting of six Waldenses and three American members of the Morganton Land and Improvement Company. A loan from the land company enabled the Waldenses to purchase simple tools to clear the land and put in a crop. Dr. Tron returned to Italy and briefed others on conditions in the new colony. Eight Waldenses from Utah and 128 additional settlers from Italy arrived near the end of I 893. Extreme hardships and poverty marked the first year in North Carolina. In the spring a hosiery mill was arranged for, to be operated by John Meier, superintendent of the Oats Hosiery Mill in Charlotte, in a two-story bam constructed by the W aldenses. All employees were to be Waldenses unless the demand exceeded the supply of workers. In I 894 Dr. Tron arrived from Italy and arranged to return 5000 less desirable of the Io,ooo acres contracted for and a reduction of the debt from $25,000 to $r5,627.33· This included the cost of sawmill, livestock, tools, and other items. After rude homes, a store, and two schools had been provided, a surplus of lumber was available for sale. Times continued to be critical and in �Business and Industry / 361 I 894, after the experience of about eighteen months, the corporation was dissolved and the Morganton V•nd and Improvement Company agreed to take back the land and resell it in tracts of from forty to eighty acres to individual Waldenses at five percent interest. The transaction left a debt of $1,500, which Dr. Tron personally paid. In order to pay for their land W aldensian young people found paying jobs. When Meier moved his hosiery mill to Newton and then to South Carolina, a number of workers went with the mill and sent back their meager earnings, learning the trade and at the same time helping to save their fathers' lands. The stones that had to be gathered to make the lands suitable for farming furnished material for warm, sturdy buildings. The stone church was finished in 1897 at a cost of about $6,ooo, workmen having contributed their labor at a pay rate of five cents per hour. In 1901 John and Francis Garrou, Waldenses, started the W aldensian Hosiery Mill, encouraged by W. C. Erwin and A. M. Ingold of the First National Bank of Morganton. By 1939 this mill employed 475 persons. In 1914 a cotton mill, the Valdese Manufacturing Company, was started by John Louis Garrou. By 1937 it employed 200 persons. In 1913 another hosiery mill was opened, followed in 1915 by the Waldensian Bakery, which by 1940 had 140 employees and thirty-five trucks and was one of the great bakeries of the Carolinas. In 1927 several small hoisery mills were incorporated as the Alba-Waldensian Hosiery Mills. By 1938 Valdese was known as the "fastest growing town in North Carolina." Notable in the economy of Western North Carolina is the furniture industry. Furniture factories were established in the foothill towns because of their nearness to the supply of forest products and because of the labor supply. A number of companies bought forest tracts and on them have begun practices of conservation and scientific forestry. Unusual is the fact that until recent years virtually all of the furniture factories were owned by Western Carolinians. Lenoir is the center of the industry in the area. Caldwell County has a tradition of furniture making. In 1878 Henry Reichert advertised the opening of a furniture factory at Powelltown near Lenoir in which he would produce �362 / Part III: A Developing Economy "furniture of every description at the lowest prices and on the best terms for cash or barter." He also offered coffins for sale. In I 889 the Lenoir Furniture Factory was organized, the first one in the town. It was owned by G. F. Harper,]. M. Bernhardt, and C. L. Bernhardt. Meanwhile in 1889 A. W. Britt and a group of associates from Ohio moved to Asheville, purchased a small furniture factory known as the Avery and Erwin Company, and a lumber mill, both of which they operated until 1895. Hard times during the depression of the 189o's struck their project, it was reorganized as the Skyland Furniture Company, and in 1898 it went bankrupt. The furniture industry during the 189o's was attempted in a strip of eighteen counties reaching from Alamance to Haywood, with a number of efforts being made in Marion. In 1896 Thomas Wrenn founded the Catawba Furniture Company with sixtyfive workers in partnership with Henry W. Fraser, a former textile manufacturer. The Marion Furniture Company was organized by D. R. Raper who sold stock to the town's people in public sales. In Lenoir in 1907 Dr. A. A. Kent, F. H. Coffey, and others established the Kent-Coffey Manufacturing Company to make dressers, chiffoniers, and wash stands. The largest furniture organization in Caldwell County began in 1905 as the Kent Furniture and Coffm Company, with T. H. Broyhill, Dr. A. A. Kent, and associates as owners. Broyhill bought his share of the stock by furnishing lumber from his sawmill. In 1912 Broyhill bought the stock of the other owners and the name became the Lenoir Furniture Company, then the Broyhill Furniture Company. In 1919 Broyhill was joined by his brother]. E. Broyhill and the firm grew to occupy six plants and to be the fourth of the big five in the furniture industry in the nation, and is probably the largest family-held furniture enterprise in the world. Other prosperous furniture manufacturers are Caldwell Furniture Company (1909), Lexington Mirror Company (1912), Fairfield Chair Company (1921), Hibriten Chair Company (1930), Spainhour Furniture Company (1943), Hammary Manufacturing Company (1943), Kincaid Furniture Company (1946), Blowing Rock Furniture Industries (1946). In 1964 the Kent-Coffey, Spainhour, and Blowing Rock companies were purchased by Magnavox, starting the break with the home-ownership tradition. Employment in Caldwell County furniture plants exceeded 5000 in 1966. �Business and Industry / 363 Lenoir and Caldwell County had a population of 54,723 in I967. There were in I960 seventy industrial plants with an industrial employment of I I, I 52. Broyhill had four plants in Caldwell County. There were twenty-four furniture factories with seventeen related industries. The largest furniture companies were Broyhill, Flair, Fairfield, and Caldwell. Other major industries are the Alba-Waldensian Hosiery Mills, the American Efird Mills at Whitnel, the Burlington Industries at Rhodhiss, Blue Bell, Polk Manufacturing Company, and Hemlock Manufacturing Company. Drexel Enterprises in Burke County is the third largest furniture industry in the United States. Most of the Drexel plants are in Western North Carolina. Others are in High Point and in Kingstree, South Carolina. Western North Carolina leads the world in the production of case goods. In I903 Samuel Huffman founded Drexal Furniture Company. He was succeeded by his son Robert. The company has nine plants with over 5000 employees and is the largest producer of bedroom and dining room furniture. In I96I Drexal acquired the Southern Desk Company and in I963 Heritage Furniture Company, the best upholstering firm in the South. The I93 I sales of $2,ooo,ooo have increased twenty times. Drexel has now been acquired by the Champion Paper and Fibre Company. The Henredon Furniture Industries of Morganton, Grand Rapids, and Spruce Pine make beautiful and expensive furniture. Net sales in I96I were $u,405,750 and in 1968, $24,375,265. Net earning in I968 were $3,889,864. Property, plant, and equipment are valued at $20,228, 759· The three enterprising founders of the company were T. Henry Wilson, Ralph Edwards, and Donnell Van Noppen. Burke County with the towns of Morganton, Valdese, Hildebran, Icard, and Glen Alpine is one of the region's oldest and most prosperous counties. In addition to furniture, textiles, and hosiery, there are Union Carbide and machine and iron works. In I950 the population was 46,34I, in 1960, 52,70I and by 1970 it had reached 60,364. Morganton in 1960 had I2,ooo people, and in that year I2,5I3 persons were employed in the county. Brevard, the home of Olin-Mathieson and of a DuPont photographic plant, has grown and prospered as these industries �364 / Part III: A Developing Economy have prospered. In 1915 Harry H. Straus made endless belts for cigarette machines. In 1934 he began to use the fiber of seed flax, a plant grown for use in linseed oil. In 1936 he built a factory to use flax fibers for cigarette paper. Since the majority of cigarettes are manufactured in North Carolina and since Western North Carolina rivers have waters with low mineral content, Brevard was an ideal place for manufacturing cigarette paper. Frenchmen were brought over to teach the workers. Mountain people learned so rapidly that in six months the Frenchmen were gone. September 2, 1939, the first cigarette paper was produced at Ecusta. In 1949 Olin built a cellophane plant at Pisgah Forest. Olin-Mathieson was formed in 1954 from the union of Olin Industries and the Mathieson Chemical Corporation. This corporation controls also the Winchester-Western Arms Company and the Squibb Pharmaceutical Company. It produces cigarette paper, cellophane, chemicals, metals, packaging, pharmaceuticals, sporting arms and ammunition. Its annual sales exceed $7oo,ooo,ooo. At Ecusta and Pisgah Forest lightweight printing paper, cigarette paper, endless belts, cigarette filters, and cellophane packaging are manufactured. In 1966, 3000 people were employed compared to 350 in 1939. In 1939 the population of Brevard was 3000, in 1967 it was 5000, and in the Brevard trading area there were 8500. In 1965 Olin-Mathieson had a payroll in Brevard of$18,ooo,ooo. In 1964 the DuPont company established at Brevard a photographic products plant to make medical x-ray films. It had previously built there in 1958 a plant to make silicon for electronic devices. In 1967 the DuPont plant put $4,500,000 into the Transylvania County economy, and its payroll and purchases were $5,167,644· The company spent $39,00o,ooo in 1967 to increase its facilities. American Enka, an American branch of a Dutch corporation, was established near Asheville in 1928. Its growth is one of the success stories of American industry. In 1930 the company produced 6,ooo,ooo pounds of viscose process rayon yarn. Soon thereafter it developed high-tenacity rayon yarn for automobile tires. In 1940 Enka produced 23,00o,ooo pounds, provided jobs for 3000, and had an annual payroll of$5,ooo,ooo. In 1948 a new plant was built at Lowland, Tennessee, with an original capacity of 2o,ooo,ooo pounds of filament rayon. This production has quintupled and Enka entered the nylon market, first with nylon staple fiber and later with the more popular filament yam. Enka was the first United States producer �Business and Industry / 365 Enka Corporation, 1965 of fine denier nylon 6. In 1958 there was a large expansion at Enka, North Carolina, which doubled the capacity of fine filament nylon. In 1962 the company began to produce heavy denier yarns for the carpet, tire, automotive, and home furnishing industries. The North Carolina plant production of this yarn has increased from 2,ooo,ooo to 45,0oo,ooo pounds a year. In 1965 another plant was built at Lowland, Tennessee, and the two plants now produce 6s,ooo,ooo pounds a year. In 1957 rayon staple fiber production was begun and a complete line of viscose rayon products was manufactured for use in apparel, home furnishings, carpets, industrial fabrics, and for blending with natural and manmade fibers. Now 10o,ooo,ooo pounds of these fibers are produced annually. In 1958 Enka acquired the Rex Corporation and William Brand and Company, manufacturers of wire and cable. In 1955 a new research center was built. An addition was made in 1963. Enka in 1966 had over $215,00o,ooo invested in plants, annual sales of$201,332,ooo, paid $57,607,000 in salaries, wages, and fringe benefits. Production increased from 6,ooo,ooo pounds in 1930 to 375,00o,ooo pounds in 1966, of rayon, nylon, and polyester fibers. Enka ranks (1966) 324th in sales among the 500 largest United States corporations, �366 / Part III: A Developing Economy 259th in invested capital, and 327th in net profits. In 1965 there were 9000 employees on the payrolls of the entire corporation. Then a $9o,ooo,ooo plant expansion created more than a thousand new jobs. Prior to the real state "bust" Asheville grew rapidly. From 1930-1960 the rate of growth declined. The growth rate of Western North Carolina also declined. From 19 30- I 960 Asheville had a net out-migration of ro,ooo and the Western North Carolina region a net of 71,ooo. In Asheville since 1960 tremendous progress has occurred. Migration trends have changed and Asheville had a net in-migration of 5000, but for the region as a whole out-migration is still continuing at a reduced rate. In 1965 it was predicted that Asheville would have a population of 69,100 by 1970 and 147,500 by 1980 and the metropolitan area 196,roo. In 1960-1964 only four counties- Haywood, Transylvania, Henderson, and Buncombe -had wages above the state average and only Haywood and Transylvania were above the national average. Seventeen of the region's counties increased at a rate above the nation as a whole; but in only five counties did the dollar value of the increase surpass that of the nation. In 1960 the average weekly earning in manufacturing was $73.78, eighteen percent below that of the nation. Areas which have a majority of manufacturing employment in capital-intensive industry - industry which uses more capital relative to laborreceive higher than average wages. AVERAGE ANNUAL WEEKLY EARNINGS 1964 U.S. Ashe Avery Buncombe Burke Cherokee Clay $!02.97 64.J8 58.50 85.II 76.28 59·83 56-92 Graham Haywood Henderson Jackson McDowell Macon Madison 77-51 12J.JI 83-76 70.J9 75-40 64-96 67.69 Mitchell Polk Rutherford Swain Transylvania Watauga Yancey 60.21 68.28 75.63 60.79 ro8.99 65-34 73-37 In Asheville fifty percent of the manufacturing work force are employed in above-average wage industries, but wages have been seventeen per-cent below the national average because productivity was lower. Many industries have recently come; the workers lacked experience. While the value per man hour productivity was for the United States $7.08, for Asheville it was $5.70, and for Western North Carolina other than Asheville, �Business and Industry / 367 $4.66. It for high soon be technical is important to attract industry that has a potential wages. The handicap of inexperienced workers will overcome if the state and communities will supply training for such industries. North Wilkesboro is the leading commercial center of Northwestern North Carolina. It has prosperous furniture factories, cotton mills, hosiery mills. The first industries in the county were the North Wilkesboro Brick Company, the C. C. Smoot and Sons Tannery, and the Wilkesboro Manufacturing Company, which made building materials. These developed during the 189o's. Forest Furniture (1901), Oak Furniture (1903), which employed 300 men when it burned in 1954, Meadows Mill Company (1908), which builds grist mills, Home Chair Company of Ronda (1919), American Furniture (1927), Carolina Mirror (1936), Peerless Hosiery, a Durham corporation, Blue Ridge Shoe Company (1960), and the Holly Farms Poultry Company are the county's largest industries. Mount Airy, the northern gateway to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the leading urban area in Surry County, has a population of 7200, a contiguous population of 2 5,ooo, and a retail shopping area of 50,000. It has fifty-seven manufacturers employing over 9000 workers with a payroll of about $42,ooo,ooo. In addition to the nineteen textile, hosiery, or apparel firms, Mt. Airy has eight furniture or allied industries, and nine concrete or granite companies are located in or near the city. The world's largest open-faced granite quarry, covering eighty acres, has long been famous. Industrial growth in Mount Airy has shown an increase of 2300 new jobs in the last five years. Boone is the only urban community in Watauga, Avery, Ashe, and Alleghany counties. The leading industries have been encouraged to come into the area by community leaders. The International Resistance Company (now TRW), Shadowline, the Blue Ridge Shoe Company, and the Vermont-American Tool Company are the chief employers. Some locally-owned concerns have been in existence for many years. The North State Canning Company makes and cans kraut, utilizing one of the successful farm products. A similar operation in Ashe County is Beaver Creek Foods, Incorporated, which cans green beans, providing employment and a market for the beans grown in the area. There are twenty-six plants processing food and �368 / Part III: A Developing Economy tobacco products in Western North Carolina employing more than twenty persons each. Most vital to the economy of Watauga County is Appalachian State University which has over six hundred employees and an annual payroll of more than $2,ooo,ooo. More important are the thousands of young people who have earned their education at the school, enabling them to serve the area, the state, and neighboring states where they are recognized as excellently prepared teachers. A shot in the arm to Watauga County has come from the enterprises of the late Grover Robbins and his brothers Harry and Spencer Robbins. In 1957 they started Tweetsie Railroad, a popular tourist attraction. Next they developed Hound Ears, and a few years later they acquired control of the Beech Mountain project which was already under development. An airport has been constructed, and the 5600 foot gondola-equipped ski slope, one of their seven ski slopes, is the highest in Eastern America. There will be four golf courses and four thousand homesites. There is a construction payroll of $r ,ooo,ooo. The Robbins Brothers after acquiring Beech Mountain created the Carolina Caribbean Corporation. It operates Beech Mountain; The Reef in the Virgin Islands ; Land Harbors of America, a deluxe camping site; and numerous other real estate developments. Its tourist attraction, The Land of Oz, is highly successful. Fourteen of the counties have populations of under 20,000. Thirteen have fewer than fifty persons per square mile. Jackson County is one of these and will illustrate the importance of attracting industries. W estem Carolina University at Cullowhee has in addition to its faculty hundreds of other employees. Next to the university the backbone of the economy of Jackson County is the Mead Corporation. Mead's paperboard mill began operations in Sylva in 1928 when chestnut wood was still available. It came to Westem North Carolina because of available lumber, and it pioneered paperboard production from chestnut chips. In 1966 its payroll in Sylva was $2,2oo,ooo for 258 employees. The company's headquarters are in Dayton, Ohio, and in 1967 it had a total of 21,000 employees and sales of$633,092,360. Also important in Jackson County are knitwear, blanket, and quilting plants of the Ham Corporation. Jackson is one of fifteen counties in our study having fewer than five manufacturing industries each that employ one hundred or more �Business and Industry / 369 persons. There is not a single county that has not at least one such industry. Ten counties had fewer than woo employed in manufacturing, and each of ten had combined annual payrolls of less than Jackson County's $3,665,000 in 1963. In 1947 three counties had fewer than one hundred each employed in manufacturing; in 1963 Alleghany had 1,118, Madison had 639, and Watauga 896 so engaged. Clay County lost 23% of its population by out-migration between 1950 and 1960, and in 1963 it had ninety fewer employed in manufacturing than in 1947. Other counties experiencing out-migration of more than sixteen per cent during the decade 1950-1960 were McDowell, Rutherford, Wilkes, Watauga, Yancey, Ashe, Avery, Alleghany, Cherokee, Macon, Madison, Mitchell. Out-migration has been discussed before. Because of its incidence the following counties have a larger percentage of people over sixty-five than all but four other counties in the state: Alleghany, Ashe, Buncombe, Cherokee, Clay, Henderson, Macon, and Polk. Many of the ambitious young potential leaders have been drained out of their home counties because of lack of economic opportunity. In only three of the counties is the rate of natural increase in the population as large as that of the state as a whole. An encouraging observation is that while in most of the counties the nup1ber of manufacturing establishments remained nearly the same in 1963 as in 1954, the number of persons employed increased materially: Alleghany County 509 to III8, Ashe 540 to 1917, Avery 336 to 484, Buncombe II,071 to 16,450, Burke 8,291 to 12,345, Caldwell 9041 to II,550, Madison 154 to 639, Swain 362 to 665, and Watauga 172 to 896. These figures indicate that the increase of the gross national product of the United States has been reflected in this area. Economists estimate that for every one hundred new factory jobs there are seventy-five other jobs created in real estate, finance, insurance, utilities, transportation, communications, and local government (especially schools). It is possible for Western North Carolina to continue industrial expansion and to develop new products, and every effort is being made by the planning organizations to utilize the opportunities and services offered by the state and federal government for the purpose. Another excellent prospect for the area is in the development of its recreational and tourist facilities, and in this respect Western North Carolina has a positive advantage. �370 / Part III: A Developing Economy As late as 1937 the livelihood of the Eastern Cherokees was earned chiefly by growing a variety of crops on small plots: making sorghum from cane, filling their cellars with food for the cold winters, picking wild huckleberries and strawberries for market. Over 5000 acres of forest were being held as a common property. Any member of the tribe was permitted to market an assigned number of trees, for which he paid a percentage into the common fund. Simply furnished mountain cabins were the homes of the majority of the families, but there were those who lived in sparsely settled mountain sections in smaller cabins; ' while in the valley were many modem homes. Since World War Two the Eastern Cherokees have been changing from an agrarian to an industrialized people. Hundreds are employed by White Shield of Carolina, manufacturers of quilted goods; Cherokee, Inc., makers of one hundred forty Indian arts and crafts products; and the Vassar Corporation, which makes hair nets and other accessories for women's hair. In 1963 a group of professional and business people organized Cherokee Area Industries, Inc., to stimulate industrial and commercial growth. They purchased land for development of an industrial park. The first company to lease a portion of the park was Mountain Maid Company, employing thirty-five people. In 1955 the Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual, Inc., was created, continuing a reservation crafts program begun in the 1930's. This cooperative markets items made by the Indians in their homes, the profits being divided among the members. �CHAPTER SEVENTEEN In Pursuit of Pleasure Before the coming of the railroads and roads into the mountains the usual visitor made his way laboriously to a hotel or boarding house in a scenic spot, and there he stayed for the duration of his vacation. Such a hotel was completed at Blowing Rock in I 885. It had an ideal location at the crest of the Blue Ridge. Fascinating nature trails were about the only diversion offered the guests after they arrived. The trip up the mountain from the railway station in Lenoir was made by hack or surry that met the train, and on days when the weather was fine the ride could be exciting. Blowing Rock was then deemed to be the ideal tourist attraction in Northwest North Carolina. It was still a straggling village two miles long approached by the turnpike from Lenoir. From the turnpike one could see Jonas Ridge, Hawksbill, Table Rock, Pilot Mountain, Grandfather Mountain. Blowing Rock's 4200 foot elevation provided an ideal summer climate. There were post offices in the village and at Green Park at the top of the ridge. From the "rock" itself one could often look down on a sea of mist, see the clouds rise and then see the peaks emerge from the snowy billows: the Roan, the Grandfather, the Bald, the Yellow, and the Black Mountains. The beetling crag, the Blowing Rock, is a great spur that hangs over the "Globe" or valley of the John's River. It catches the currents of air sent up from the depths. These currents will blow back hats, handkerchiefs, and light objects thrown from the rock. The Green Park Hotel near the Blowing Rock was built between the springs of the New River which flows into the Ohio and 371 �372 / Part III: A Developing Economy Hugh Morton on one of the crags of Grandfather Mountain PHOTO COURTESY OF HUGH MORTON �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 373 the Y adkin which flows into the Atlantic. The Green Park was quite modern in 1 896 with fireplaces in all of the rooms and hot and cold baths. The Blowing Rock Hotel one and one-half miles north of the Green Park had nine hundred feet of piazzas, a telegraph, a livery stable, and a ball room. The village of Blowing Rock also had the Watauga Hotel, the Brady House, and the Stewart House. With the completion of the Y onahlossee Turnpike to Linville along the side of Grandfather Mountain, guests at Blowing Rock could ride to Linville by a hack operated regularly by the Linville Improvement Company. There at Eseeola Lodge they might tarry a few days. Linville had a nine hole golf course, and Grandfather Mountain invited exploration. Grandfather is the most rugged and picturesque mountain in Western North Carolina. Its craggy peaks when seen at a distance have the rough features of a Grant Wood type of American pioneer or grandfather. The mountain had been a landmark for the pioneers. Daniel Boone hunted on its slopes. Scientists have claimed that it is one of the oldest rock formations in the world. Some geologists have asserted that it is two billion years old. To climb to the top of its peaks has always been a challenge to rugged tourists. The Linville Improvement Company had vision when it built a road to the crest of Grandfather Mountain. The turnpike that ran to Linville continued to Cranberry, a station on the East Tennessee and Western North Carolina Railroad. The highest mountain in Eastern America is Mount Mitchell, one of the Black Mountains. Above five thousand feet it bore spruce trees. About 1912 its spruce was purchased and lumbered, also the spruce at the head of Cane River. Lumbering and fire destroyed most of these rare spruce forests. All was soon gone except near the top of Mount Mitchell. In 1914 George T. Winston pleaded with the people of the state to preserve the forest on Mount Mitchell: From out of the primal sea I rose on high Above the clouds I kissed the sunlit sky, My rock the oldest in the rock-built earth; When I was born, it was the great world's birth. Long million years my crumbling sides did yield, To rain and frost and wind, a fertile field �374 / Part III: A Developing Economy For widening Piedmont plane and ocean shore. Now nature kind assails my life no more; At last in verdure soft and warm I'm clad, Mid sapphire skies my emerald peaks are glad, But hark! What frightened terror, new and dire! "Tis human greed for gold! "Tis axe and fire! 0 mighty State, prevent this deed of shame, This great dishonor keep from thy great name. Under Governor Locke Craig North Carolina purchased twenty acres near the top for a state park the first to be established. An association was formed to erect a monument to Dr. Elisha Mitchell, geologist who lost his life on the mountain. General Julian S. Carr of Durham, capitalist and philanthropist, was the leader of the movement. In 1917 Governor Bickett employed a forest warden to protect the park from fire, to advise tourists, to repair trails, and to look after the state's interests. In 1919 nature lovers noted that there were black bears, deer, wolves, panthers, "boomers," "rough grouse," and snow birds on Mt. Mitchell. Interesting trees were the Frazer balsam, yellow birch, mountain ash, service (called locally "sarvis"), red spruce, red cherry, hemlock, maple, oak, and white pine. Among the shrubs observed were the rose rhododendron, the handsomest of the species, the great rhododendron, mountain laurel, blueberries, currants, gooseberries, red raspberries, hobble bush, and hackberry. Flowers and herbs mentioned by naturalists were wood sorrel, trillium, clintonia, woodland aster, sharp-leafed wood aster, yellow meadow lily, St. John's wort, boneset, meadowparsnip, grass of Parnassus, Oswego tea, saxafrage, purple turtlehead, trumpet weed, black cohosh, Indian pipe, Indian turnip, galax, tweyblade, and many kinds of fern. A lumbering railroad had been built to get the logs down the mountain, and when lumbering activities ceased, the Mount Mitchell Railroad was put into operation to the "Top ofEastern America." It ran from the Mt. Mitchell station on the Western North Carolina Railroad to the summit of the peak. A 1917 advertising brochure described it: "Switchbacks cunningly constructed by an unexcelled feat of engineering, make the ascent gentle and pleasant .... Mount Mitchell Railroad zigzags [up] the mountainside, spans mountain gorges and ravines and climbs almost to the tip of the majestic monarch of them all. ... " Other high mountains that made up the scene as the passengers rode up the mountain were Mt. Celo 63 57 feet, the Black �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 37 5 The Blowing Rock Mt . Mitchell Excursion Train ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. �376 / Part III: A Developing Economy C)k hiohwa.y i"~cen1c plen~or- the}fotor Rgad . . . . . . __ _r Mt. Mitchell Motorway ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. Trillium, one of the most beloved of mountain flowers ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 377 Brothers 6620-6690 feet, and Balsam Cone 6645 feet. Train fare was $2.50 for the round trip. The route of the Mount Mitchell Railroad passed through Montreat, the Presbyterian Assembly's summer home. The passengers rode up the mountain in the morning, took lunch at Camp Alice at the station near the peak, then went on foot to the top, where Elisha Mitchell is buried. Camp Alice had a large dining hall, and there were cottages and a tent colony for those who wanted to spend the night to watch the sunrise. After a brief trial the railroad proved to be impractical, and a cinder-surfaced road was built for about twenty miles from the town of Black Mountain to Camp Alice on Mount Mitchell, with a rise in elevation from 2700 to about 6700 feet. The opening of the Mount Mitchell Motor Road was celebrated by a large party, guests of the Mount Mitchell Development Company officials. They assembled at Black Mountain, went to a reception on the mountain, had dinner there and returned for a reception at Blue Ridge. This was a one-way toll road for automobiles, with the cars traveling up the mountain until a certain hour in the morning, allowing them time for the ascent before the downward traffic began in the afternoon. Among the strict printed regulations was the one that "no colored person will be admitted over the road except those going as drivers, nurses or attendants, accompanied by employers." The speed limit on the road was fifteen miles per hour. At last in 1940 a free road was opened to Mt. Mitchell. The route left highway U. S. 70 ncar Marion on state route 104, thence to Buck Creek Gap intersection with the Blue Ridge Parkway, then to the intersection with the former Mt. Mitchell toll road. From that point the former toll road had been widened and was being offered free under the supervision of the Pisgah National Forest, the state, and the Blue Ridge Parkway. The Brevard, Cashiers, Highlands area has been called "the land of waterfalls." The natural beauty of the area is enhanced by dozens of rippling streams and cascading waterfalls: Looking Glass Falls, Connestee Falls, Dry Falls, Bridal Veil Falls are a few. Outstanding is Whiteside Mountain, said to be the highest granite cliff in Eastern America. Lake Toxaway, Cashiers, Highlands, High Hampton are beautiful resort areas, a paradise �378 / Part III: A Developing Economy for vacationers and summer residents. A number of prominent South Carolinians built summer homes in Cashiers Valley before the Civil War. One of the best known estates was High Hampton, the home of Wade Hampton, and another was that of Captain S. P. Ravenel of Charleston. Charles Jenks came to the area in 1872 to operate the corundum mines in Macon County, North Carolina, and Rabun County, Georgia. The mines closed in I 873 and Jenks went to Highlands to regain his health. While he was there he was associated with two men who came from Kansas in 1875 to plant a town, Captain S. T. Kelsey and C. C. Hutchinson. They purchased land from ]. W. Dobson. Kelsey was a builder of towns. At Highlands he built roads, erected buildings, advertised the resort. In I 890 the population was about 3 so. As a summer resort it was peopled chiefly by people from South Carolina. In 1887 Jenks and a group of New York and Massachusetts electrical and mechanical engineers formed the Western North Carolina Mining and Improvement Company. They purchased four hundred acres on the top ofHogback Mountain, later called Mount Toxaway. Jenks built a clubhouse for the company at the top and a wagon road leading to it. Subsequently he purchased for the company 2300 acres of woodland and trout streams along Horsepasture River and the Panthertown head of the Tuckaseigee River. The company was renamed the Sapphire Valley Company. The key to the mountain region is Asheville in the lovely valley of the French Broad. It is set in an amphitheater of hills and affords splendid views of Mt. Pisgah and the mountainrimmed horizon. Just east of Asheville the peaceful Swannanoa unites with the French Broad. The elevation is 2250 feet and the climate is mild and dry. From Asheville the valley runs eighteen miles north and south. It is known as the Asheville Plateau. At the North Carolina-Tennessee border, twenty-five miles northwest of Asheville, a high ridge blocks the northern end of the valley. Thirty miles south the Blue Ridge Mountains form an escarpment. The tallest peak near Asheville is Mt. Pisgah. The French Broad influences the wind directions, which are generally from the northwest except in September when they are from the southeast. The annual precipitation is thirtyeight inches, quite low for North Carolina. The growing season �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 379 consists of a freeze-free period of 195 days. Floods occur at about twelve year intervals. Snowfall has varied from .7 inch in I93I-I932 to 40.6 inches in 1959-1960. The mean annual temperature is 56°. In I 793 Asheville was just a trading post called Morristown. Incorporated in I797 it was renamed Asheville for Samuel Ashe of New Hanover County. It was still a sleepy little village with a population of 2610 at the coming of the Western North Carolina Railroad (I88o), but it had had a varied history. A year earlier the first telegraph line had been built into the town and a public library had been opened. "Judge" Edward Aston, mayor of Asheville, had publicized the town as a health resort by letter-writing and by mailing out thousands of circulars throughout the nation and European countries telling of Asheville's advantages as a resort for those who suffered from lung trouble. The location seemed designed for man's happiness, with grand and majestic views. After I 880 capitalists and health seekers poured in. The Swannanoa Hotel was opened. A four story brick building with "fire plugs on every floor," it had Asheville's first bathroom. George Willis Pack stayed there and had the bathroom built, walled in, and lined with zinc. Famous visitors were Zeb Vance, Bill Nye, and James Whitcomb Riley. On a balcony overlooking the street a band played a concert every afternoon, and each night there was dancing in the ballroom. The Swannanoa rivaled the older Eagle Hotel which also had a band. Excursion trains ran from Salisbury to Asheville on Saturdays carrying young people to the dances. Asheville became a mecca for those suffering from tuberculosis, and prominent doctors recommended it; others came and established sanitariums. Its health assets were "a healthful climate, pure air, good water, unsurpassed scenery and congenial people." By 1890 its population had quadrupled to Io,ooo. Dr. Gatchell, a native of Wisconsin who wrote the circular that "Judge" Aston mailed out in such quantities, established the first sanitarium for consumptives in Asheville. In I 875 Dr. J. W. Gleitsmann, a German by birth, came to Asheville from Baltimore and established the Mountain Sanitarium for Pulmonary Diseases. He wrote and read before the American Public Health Association a paper "Western North Carolina As a Health Resort." The paper was circulated widely - about 64,000 copies. Mr. Fred A. Hall came to Asheville in 1883 with tuberculosis. He recovered and became a prominent citizen. �38o / Part III: A Developing Economy Lower Falls on Cu/lasaja River NATIONAL PARK SERVICE PHOTO Looking do wn North Mills River from Kramer's V ista near Bent Creek Gap U .S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 38 I Looking Glass Rock, Pisgah National Forest U .S. FOREST SERVICE PHOTO Sliding Rock Falls, Pisgah National Forest U.S . FOREST SERVICE PHOTO �382 / Part III: A Developing Economy S wannanoa Hotel A sheville ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . His case history and recovery were written of and published in the Boston Medical Journal. As a result many others came seeking health. Asheville became first a summer resort. Soon thereafter many visitors came for the winter because of the clear air and the mild climate. In 1885 the city authorities began to clean up sanitary conditions which were detrimental to the city as a health resort. A new city code was adopted in 1887, in which were these provisions : " [The commissioners may] lay a tax ... [annually] on all dogs, and on swine, horses and cattle running at large within the town ... ; [they] shall possess the power to prohibit cattle, horses, or hogs from running at large in said town." A sanitary chief and a sanitary inspector w ere appointed. All citizens became increasingly conscious of Asheville's natural advantages as a health resort and did everything possible to promote this phase of the city's life. Soon other sanitariums were established. Among them was the Winyah Sanitarium started by Dr. Karl von Ruch. Many cases of tuberculosis were treated in hotels and boarding houses as well as in sanitariums. So widely and favorably known did the Asheville area become for its beneficent climate and for diseases of the throat and lungs that the United States Government shortly after World W ar One built at Oteen a hospital for the treatment of veterans of the armed services who had contracted tuberculosis. M an y w ho cam e to Asheville for visits and cures remained and becam e enthusiastic residents. They built homes, invested money, began �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 383 Kenilworth Hotel ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO. industries, and thus contributed to the city's growth. Following World War One about three thousand persons were treated annually for tuberculosis. Residing in the city were perhaps an equal number of newcomers who were not under the care of physicians. Each of these persons spent freely in the city. It was estimated that the tubercular patients spent three million dollars annually. In the 1920's governmental agencies began to realize that good public health was a social obligation. Federal, state, and local governments built hospitals and sanitariums. As a result Asheville and other popular health resorts were less frequented. By 1928 most of the sanitariums around the city were forced to close and the number of patients from other places became neglible. Although Asheville then ceased to be a health resort, it became a most popular retreat for tourists and retired persons. This was true, to a degree, of all parts of Western North Carolina. Chambers of Commerce, privately owned resorts, and organizations all over the mountains published handbooks, pamphlets, brochures which stressed the scenic beauty, the recreational facilities, the invigorating climate, the pure water, and the beautiful streams of the region. Organizations were formed to promote the tourist season- the summer months. To a great degree the economy of the region came to depend upon the number of tourists and summer visitors. Even more important than the tourists are the thousands of people who have built summer homes, second homes, or vacation homes in this delightful land. �384 / Part III: A Developing Economy Asheville is said to have had more and better hotels than any city of the same size in the United States. The Battery Park mentioned earlier attracted numbers of very wealthy visitors. Kenilworth Inn, a big rambling hotel was built in r 891. The Southern Railroad and George W. Vanderbilt owned stock in the company. It was then one of the finest hotels in the South and had 250 rooms. Fire destroyed it in 1909 and the rebuilding was started in 1913 at a cost of $r,24o,ooo. Of English design, it was a show place advertised as "the Healthiest and Most Delightful Resort in America." With beautifully landscaped grounds it stood on a hill overlooking Asheville and the Biltmore Estate. It became a sanitarium in 1930 under Dr. William Ray Griffin and Dr. Mark A. Griffin and was used for patients with mental and nervous disorders. Grove Park Inn, built by E. W. Grove, wealthy drug manufacturer, in 1914 on the western slopes of Sunset Mountain was the epitome of elegance and comfort. At least five Presidents have stayed there, and it has housed a full complement of wealthy visitors. This hotel is still serving as a convention center of strong appeal. During the 192o's Grove had the gracious Battery Park hotel razed and the hill lowered. A new Battery Park rose on the site, one that was in keeping with the technology of that decade. A block away the George Vanderbilt Hotel and a new convention hall attracted large gatherings. In addition to the hotels, Asheville had more than one hundred boarding houses, among which was one at 8r Charlotte Street built about 1870 for Fanny Patton. It was closed in 1960. Burned once, it was rebuilt. It and the Patton House next door were the first Asheville houses to have running water. Aunt Charlotte, who belonged to the household, was highly indignant and wanted to know if Thomas (Captain Patton) hadn't taken leave of his senses "bringing the privy in the house." There was a fireplace in every room. There were wardrobes but no closets. An old Negro servant named Margaret but called "Cookie" was asked by a northern lady if she remembered the Civil War. She answered: "Course I does; that was when them Y ankces came down here and took all us folks had." Extravagant praise for Asheville is to be found in the advertising brochures which have been broadcast since r88o. Hinton A. Helper wrote one titled "Nature's Trundle Bed of Recuperation for Tourist and Health Seeker," in which he claimed: "The climate is not excelled by any in the world. The soil is �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 3 8 5 rich and the lands productive. . . . The timber lands are the best in the South. The mineral wealth is inexhaustible. The manufacturing facilities are unsurpassed." One bulletin recounted the economic growth from 1880 to 1890. Its author stated that in 1880 the assessed valuation was $904,428, while in 1890 it was $4,956,ooo. In 1889 $8I9,000 worth of real estate was sold and I 84 buildings were erected. The C. E. Graham cotton mill employed 250 and the Asheville Furniture Company had ninety employees. A brochure of I 899 designed to attract industry cited the different business establishments: one large tobacco factory, two icc factories, three planing mills, twenty-six carriage and wagon makers, the largest cotton factory in the South, two laundries, machine shops, foundries, a roller flour mill, the largest tannery in Western North Carolina, the largest bottling company in the state, three greenhouses, two daily and four weekly newspapers, one cornet band, two literary clubs, a lumber business, four tobacco warehouses, two military companies, the Asheville Club, social and golf clubs. An Asheville guide of 1904 praised the Kenilworth Inn, Theobald's Cafe, Candy Kitchen, and Ice Cream Parlor. Mentioned favorably were Clarence Worrall's Art Institute and Bon Marche, which it called an outstanding store. A new auditorium was built on the site of one burned in I903 and a new library was built on Pack Square. The Biltmore Estate was open to the public on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. A Brochure described "Zealandia," the residence of Mr. Philip S. Henry of London. It had been so-named by Captain J. Evans Brown who lived in New Zealand. Praised also was the Mineral Springs Hotel run by Mrs. R. Cathey at Skyland, North Carolina. The population by 1900 had climbed to 14,694, and in the metropolitan area were 27,000 people. There were ten miles of brick paving, one and one-half miles of stone paving, one and one-half miles of macadam, seven miles of brick sidewalks, twenty miles of sewerage, fourteen miles of electric railway, and the assessed valuation was $6,ooo,ooo. A Road and Tour Book of Western North Carolina for I916 indicated further growth: thirty-eight miles of paved streets, population of 34,000, seventy-five miles of sidewalks, I25 miles of macadam roads, an assessed property valuation of$15,ooo,ooo, a public library of I3,ooo volumes, a municipal swimming pool, six banks, three hospitals, forty churches, 250,000 visitors annually. �386 / Part III: A Developing Economy The most extravagant promotional publication to that date was Azure Lure published in 1924. The assessed valuation of Asheville property was $8o,ooo,ooo and the population of 50,000 enjoyed sixty-four miles of paved streets. The booklet emphasized the availability of water power, with II7,500 developed horse power and I,067,000 horsepower undeveloped. Western North Carolina had fifteen golf courses, a small number indeed, but golf in 1924 was in somewhat the same position that skiing occupies today. One of the cataclysmic events in the history of twentiethcentury Western North Carolina was the "boom and bust" in Asheville. First came the highly-inflated Florida real estate boom in the 192o's. Many fortunes were made- on paper; then the boom collapsed. Before its collapse, high-powered real estate promoters moved to Asheville and Hendersonville and generated the enthusiasm that caused the runaway inflation in real estate that resulted in the boom and the bust. In I 92 5 Thomas Wolfe visited Asheville and wrote to Aline Bernstein that he had just returned from "Boom Town" where everyone was talking about the progress and prosperity of Asheville. He had drunk their com whiskey and listened to their glowing talk of how they would soon be millionaires, of how Asheville would have roo,ooo people by 1930. Yet, by 1926 Wolfe was writing his sister regretting that while his mother had lost money in Florida real estate he was consoling her with the idea that Asheville would have a certain assured growth. He aptly added that a few near-swindlers and near-thieves would clean up but that the admiring boobs would lose their shirts and that Asheville would never be the national capital. In You Can't Go Home Again he described Asheville as being no longer a small town. Its streets were teeming with life. The look on people's faces was frightening: madness, frenzy, the eyes glistening with excitement. People were intoxicated by speculation in real estate- the idea of getting rich quickly, suddenly, overnight. Real estate men were everywhere. Everyone bought real estate - barbers, lawyers, grocers, bootblacks, janitors. The rule was to buy, always to buy. Whatever one bought and at whatever price, he felt he could sell it the next day at a great profit. All of this buying was "on time," always "on time," and the profits were paper profits- the millionaires, paper millionaires. In November 1930 the roof fell in. In the New York Times �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 387 "New" Battery Park Hotel, 1920's ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES CO . appeared a report from the Asheville Citizen, November 20, 1930, describing the closing of eight banks in Western North Carolina, most of them in or near Asheville and Hendersonville. These failures resulted from the closing of the Central Bank and Trust Company, Asheville's largest financial institution with combined assets of its banking and trust departments of $52,645,191.43· Coincident with its failure, three Hendersonville banks closed: the First Bank and Trust Company, the American Bank and Trust Company, and the Citizens' National Bank. Also closing were the Biltmore Oteen Bank, the Bank of Leicester and the Clay County Bank. On the same day the Raleigh News and Observer listed twenty-seven state banks that had closed in 1930 in Western North Carolina. The depression enveloped the nation, but in Asheville it was a gigantic bust. John Mitchell, Chief State Bank Examiner, blamed the closing of the Western North Carolina banks on the real estate boom. The banks had lent money on real estate at inflated values to such an extent that they could not meet the demands of their depositors. Catastrophic for Asheville was the failure of the Central Bank and Trust Company. For seventeen years it had been perhaps the most progressive financial institution in Western North �388 / Part III: A Developing Economy Carolina and it had done much to aid the region. Jonathan Daniels in Tar Heels: A Portrait of North Carolina (New York, 1947) attributed the origin of the boom to George W. Vanderbilt and E. W. Grove. He felt that they had corrupted the people of Asheville and raised false hopes. His accusations and implications are unjust. Vanderbilt may have been a feudal lord but he aided Western North Carolina. So did Grove. Wolfe regretted that Grove tore down the picturesque old Battery Park Hotel and replaced it with a modern building of brick, concrete, and steel. Most people have thought that his Grove Park Inn was magnificently picturesque. Vanderbilt's estate and contributions antedated the twentieth century. Grove Park Inn was built in 1912. The bank failure, the collapse, the bust did not come until 1930. Even then it was not a completely local affair. The stock market crash had occurred in October, 1929, the depression was becoming accelerated, twenty-seven other Western North Carolina banks had already failed in 1930. Probably all of these failures happened because of the failure of Caldwell and Company in Nashville, a gigantic Southern financial institution. As a result of the failure of the Central Bank and Trust Company, its president was sentenced to prison and later Asheville's mayor committed suicide. During the 189o's Warm Springs (in Madison County), which had been a health resort since 1779, was renamed Hot Springs, and a remarkable hotel was built there, the Mountain Park. It was a handsome rambling structure, in every room of which the sun shone. It had a large lobby, spacious parlors, onefourth mile of verandas. It had elevators, steam heat, toilets, fireplaces, an orchestra, a music hall, billiard parlors, bowling alleys, a golf course, tennis courts, and riding horses. Nearby were the famed springs, which contained many mineral elements. There was a spring house for drinking water and a bath house in which baths were built in the springs themselves. During the years when health-seekers believed in the efficacy of mineral waters, Hot Springs was one of the most popular resorts in Western North Carolina. Thousands came who were not ill. They came because of the good food, the dances, the pleasant company, and the recreational attractions of the hotel. After the United States entered World War One as many as twenty-eight hundred German prisoners were interned in �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 389 the hotel. They had been members of crews of German ships caught in American or allied ports and waters at the time of the entry of the United States in the war. They gave band concerts and enjoyed their stay in the beautiful surroundings. On one occasion when it was rumored that they were to be transferred, some of them poisoned the drinking water hoping to be made ill to prevent their being removed. They used too much poison and some of the prisoners died. After medical opinion developed that the benefits derived from the waters of the springs resulted from hydro-therapy, and that the treatment could be given in any medical institution, the decline in numbers who came to Hot Springs resulted in closing the famous hotel. Near Hot Springs is Lover's Leap about which there is the legend of the Indian maiden Mist-on-the-Mountain, the daughter of Lone Wolf. She loved an Indian brave named Magwa. Another brave, the jealous Tall Pine, killed Magwa and the maiden leaped off the cliff. About that time Tall Pine was killed by a panther. Not far away is Douglas Lake, made by one of the TV A dams. And some seven miles away is Paint Rock, famous in Indian legends and a landmark on the first wagon road through the mountains. On the cliffs are strange markings, now almost indecipherable, which gave the rock its name. Formerly a ferry was used to carry people across the river to connect with the railroad. Hot Springs, the town, has a beautiful location. It is completely surrounded by mountains, is on an attractive river, and Spring Creek flows through the town. It should attract many tourists, but since the closing of the hotel it has withered on the vine, had few tourists, and ceased to grow. Nearby above Spring Creek is a camping and recreation area operated by the National Park Service in Pisgah National Forest. Here picnicking, camping, swimming are enjoyed. Western North Carolina's attraction for tourists was enhanced by the building of the Blue Ridge Parkway. It has been the scenic route for millions of visitors from Northeastern United States to this region, and these guests have been an inestimable boon to the economy of the region. The travelers have fanned out to adjacent resorts. Today's tourists are from diverse elements �390 / Part III: A Developing Economy Lovers Leap, French Broad River, near Hot Springs of the population. Many of the earlier generation of tourists were well-to-do middle-aged people who stayed one, two, or three weeks at a resort hotel or "took the water" at a mineral spring. They sought rest and relaxation. Often they were society's elite. Those in this group still come but they are a small minority. Now the worker with a weekend or a week's vacation comes and brings his family, or a number of men and families come for a weekend of golf, or skiing. In some of the older resort towns as in Blowing Rock the two groups clash. The long-time, established summer residents resent the intrusion or invasion by the tourists. They close their facilities to them. Linville and Blowing Rock golf courses have become virtual private clubs and have limited play by non-members. But the local businesses cater to all who come. Every effort is being made to get those who come to stay longer. Tourists are given the most courteous attention, and amusements with family appeal are provided. Tweetsie Railroad between Boone and Blowing Rock and Ghost Town at Maggie Valley have appeal for all members of the family, although they were designed for the children. Horn in the West and Unto These Hills interest the whole family. Beech Mountain has chair lifts, fishing, riding, hiking, in addition to skiing and golf. It features a Disney Land type of amusement �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 391 park, the Land of Oz, to which people ride by chair lifts. Daughton Park on the Blue Ridge Parkway contains six thousand acres, a lodge, picnic area, camp ground, twenty miles of trails, scenic Wildcat Rocks and precipitous bluffs. Nearby is the Brinegar Cabin where one can see hand-weaving demonstrations from May to October. The park was named for Congressman Robert Daughton from Alleghany County. At Blowing Rock the denim manufacturer, Moses Cone, had enjoyed a summer mansion located on Flat Top Mountain in an estate with 3750 acres and two beautiful man-made lakes. He died in 1908, and his will specified that after the death of Mrs. Cone the estate would become the property of the State of North Carolina. A few years after Mrs. Cone's death in 1947 the state transferred the estate to the federal government to be used as part of the Blue Ridge Parkway. The mansion is used as a museum and sales center for mountain handicrafts of the Southern Highlands Handicraft Guild. The woven coverlet given to Miss Frances Goodrich which awakened her interest T weetsie Railroad, tourist attraction ASHEVILLE C HAMBER OF COMMER CE PHOTO �392 / Part III: A Developing Economy Brinegar Cabin on Blue Ridge Parkway before restoration NATIONAL PARK SERVICE PHOTO Brinegar Cabin after restoration NATIONAL PARK SERVICE PHOTO �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 393 in hand weaving and started the revival of weaving in North Carolina is on display there. More than twenty miles of unpaved roads on the estate are reserved for pedestrian, horseback, and carnage use. Nearby, also on the Blue Ridge Parkway, is the 4000 acre Julian Price Memorial Park. Price was formerly president of the Jefferson Standard Life Insurance Company. The park has some of the most attractive camp sites in Western North Carolina, and it offers fishing to campers. Cataloochi at Maggie Valley and Blowing Rock Ski Lodge (now Appalachian Ski Mountain) near Blowing Rock were the first of the North Carolina ski resorts. Another is Hound Ears in the Shull's Mills and Foscoe area of Watauga County on the side of a mountain, the pinnacle of which resembles the hanging ears of a hound dog. Each year sees new ski slopes put into use, and around them residential communities develop. Between two of the peaks of Grandfather Mountain Hugh Morton, descendant of Hugh McRae, has built a mile high swinging pedestrian bridge and at one end is a reception center large enough to house a small convention. Each year since 1956 there has been a gathering of the Scottish clans from a wide area, and Highland Games are held on the mountainside on a weekend in July. Events on Saturday consist of highland dancing, piping, track and field events. On Sunday after a worship service and lunch the champions put on an exhibition, followed by a "Highland Shoot," an archery tournament. Kilts and bonnets are worn for the weekend making it a colorful occasion. Thirteen clans, the Bums club of Charlotte, and the Saint Andrews Societies of Charleston, Savannah, New York State, and Washington, D. C. are the sponsors. Since 1926 on the fourth Sunday in June has been held the "Singing on the Mountain" on the slopes of Grandfather. For twenty-three consecutive years there was no rain on this date, and mountain folk considered the fact almost miraculous and attributed it to the beneficence of God. The annual sing is looked forward to and visited by thousands of religious people and about as many who are just curious. Some thirty thousand were present in 1957. On the day of the singing people travel to Grandfather as they did to camp meetings a few decades ago. "Grandfather Mountain is a symbol of the eternity of the hills." People gather to hear the words of many preachers and to sing the songs that they love. The singing is also a social event. Whole �394 / Part III: A Developing Economy One of the first ski slopes, Appalachian Ski Mountain ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO Chalet above the slopes Chairlift at Beech Mountain �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 395 Bagpipers on Grandfather Mountain at Highland Games HUGH MORTON PHOTO On the Parade Grounds at the Highland Games HUGH M ORTON PHOTO �396 / Part III: A Developing Economy Singing on the Mountain HUGH MORTON PHOTO Ground breaking for final link of Blue Ridge Parkway by Governor Dan Moore HUGH MORTON PHOTO and Assistant-Director of the National Park Service �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 397 An overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway families, old friends, and kin, separated by mountain ranges and hours of travel gather there to visit and to share their picnic food with each other. This event, the largest mountain sing in the Southern highlands, uplifts all who attend. Uncle Joe Hartley who helped to build the Y onahlossee Turnpike in I 89 I started the Grandfather singing in I924 when I25 members of a Sunday school had a picnic on the slope of the mountain. After the picnic they had some "beautiful singing." Few people who enjoy the 507,I 59 acres, the I200 species of plants, the I 30 species of trees, the 52 species of fur bearing animals, the great natural beauty, the hiking, driving, camping facilities of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park realize the tremendous and long-continued efforts by many enthusiasts �398 / Part III: A Developing Economy View to the south from Clingman's Dome parking area, Great Smokies HUGH MORTON PHOTO before the park became a reality. The first campaign was by a dedicated band of Asheville people and their supporters. October 29, 1885, in an address before the American Academy of Medicine, Dr. Henry 0. Marcy, of Boston, advocated securing "a large reservation of the higher ranges as a park." By I 892 destruction of the forests was a cause of concern and Charles S. Sargent with an editorial in Garden and Forest was the first to present in print a plan for a national forest. A year earlier (1891) Joseph A. Holmes, state geologist of North Carolina, had suggested to Gifford Pinchot a great national forest for the Southern Appala- �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 399 chians. The Biltmore Forest experiment no doubt influenced both Holmes and Pinchot. In I893 the North Carolina General Assembly passed a resolution in favor of establishing such a park. It was presented to the House by Congressman John S. Henderson in I 894, but Congress was not yet concerned. "The first organized association for national legislation to set up a federal park in the Southern Appalachian Mountains was begun by Dr. Chase P. Ambler of Asheville ... in I899." He presented the idea to his friend from Ohio, Judge William R. Day. Day suggested that an Asheville organization be formed which, assisted by the Asheville Board of Trade, would work for a national park. Ambler, George H. Smathers, and Senator Jeter C. Pritchard sought to interest the Southern press, doctors, lawyers and other groups to get them to address petitions to Pritchard asking him to use his influence to have a Congressional committee appointed. It was agreed that twenty to forty thousand acres could be bought for one dollar an acre, and that immediate action was imperative to preserve the forests, the game, and the fish because lumbermen were destroying the forests and tanneries were killing the fish. In I 899 the Asheville Board of Trade organized a Parks and Forestry Committee which obtained the aid of newspapers of North Carolina and neighboring states in giving publicity to the movement. It was soon realized by George Vanderbilt and others that there was a need to include parts of North Carolina, Tennessee, and adjacent states in a great eastern national park. Therefore letters were sent to governors, senators, representatives, and influential people in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Virginia asking them to assemble in Asheville November I I, I 899, to organize an association for the promotion of a national park and forest reserve. Forty-two of those statesmen, editors, and industrialists came and organized the Appalachian National Park Association with the object of obtaining a national park in the Southern Appalachian Mountains. Efforts of the press, Congressmen, and interested citizens were exerted toward that end. Five thousand booklets telling the story of the movement were printed. January 4, I900, Senator Jeter Pritchard introduced in the Senate the petition from the Appalachian National Park Association. Reasons for urging Congressional action were the natural beauty of the region, the superb forests, the necessity of preserving the headwaters of many mountain rivers, the healthfulness of the climate, and the �400 J Part III: A Developing Economy central location for the East, the South, and the Midwest. Much support came from scientists and those interested in forestry. Needless to say, the efforts failed. The nation was not sufficiently educated to the idea of this national park. After the passage of the Weeks Law in I 9 I I the Forest Service established a Smoky Mountain purchase unit and began obtaining options for the purchase of land belonging to the Little River Lumber Company, but the purchases were not completed because of World War One. The publication of the now famous books by Horace Kephart and Margaret Morley created favorable opinion for preservation of the forests in the Smoky Mountains. Meanwhile Hugh McRae offered to sell the Grandfather Mountain area to the federal government for a park. A bill introduced in I9I7 for its purchase failed to pass. Between I922 and I923 other bills were introduced, proposing purchases in various locations. There were at that time nineteen national parks and not one was in Eastern United States, where two-thirds of the population lived. The successful park movement grew out of the efforts in Knoxville of Mrs. Willis P. Davis. In 1924 Dr. Herbert Work, Secretary of the Interior, appointed a committee to study the establishment of one or more national parks in the Southern Appalachians. A southern Appalachian National Park committee and commissions in Tennessee and North Carolina were created to promote the park and to have a part in selecting its site. Harlan P. Kelsey, a member of the Southern Appalachain Committee, and E. C. Brooks, President of North Carolina State College, were active workers. In I925 Congress authorized the Secretary of the Interior to ascertain boundaries for three parks: the Shenandoah, the Mammoth Cave, and the Great Smoky Mountain, and to receive offers of land and money for their creation. Congress appropriated no money for the projects. Then the work of the North Carolina and Tennessee commissions began in earnest. State Senator Mark Squires of Lenoir, chairman of the North Carolina commission, and Colonel David C. Chapman of the Tennessee commission deserve credit for selling the idea of the park to their respective states. The Tennessee legislature voted $273,557 to purchase the 76,507 acres from the Little River Lumber Company, and the Knoxville Chamber of Commerce guaranteed one-third of the price. Proponents of the Grandfather Mountain-Linville area and lumbermen in North Carolina opposed the location of the park �In Pursuit ofPleasure / 401 in the Smokies. The latter called forth the wrath of Horace Kephart: "Why should this last stand of splendid, irreplaceable trees be sacrificed to the greedy maw of the sawmill? Why should future generations be robbed of all chance to see with their own eyes what a real forest, a real wildwood, a real unimproved work of God is like ... ? If cut ... it would be a drop in the bucket .... Let these few old trees stand! ... There is no use talking about conserving the Smoky forest by turning it into a national forest after the lumbermen get through with it .... The only question is: Shall the Smoky Mountains be made into a national park or a desert?" By 1926 only $soo,ooo had been raised in North Carolina, and most of that had come from the area near the park. Statewide support had not been given. On April 22, 1926, a bill for the creation of two national parks became law. North Carolina and Tennessee authorized bond issues to meet the states' obligations for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Additional funds were needed, and John D. Rockefeller, Jr., established the Laura Spellman Rockefeller Fund of $s,ooo,ooo to make the park possible. North Carolina and Tennessee acquired 158,799.21 acres and deeded the tract to the federal government on February 6, 1930. Effective work in developing the park began in 19 3 I, and on September 2, I 940, President Roosevelt dedicated it. Eighteen million dollars, it was estimated, were needed for further development. After man's exodus when the land for the park was purchased in 1926, there remained ghost communities along the Little Tennessee and Tuckaseigee rivers and on Hazel Creek, which rises deep in the Smokies and runs for twenty miles to Fontana Lake. It is fed by eight large streams and receives the flow from the watershed of what was once the largest virgin forest in Western North Carolina. Once the forest was alive with game, the streams with fish. Around 1850 settlers came to Hazel Creek and built log cabins. The slopes were excellent for cattle and sheep, and hogs fattened on the forest mast. People lived off the land, with an abundance of game. Granville Calhoun, pioneer, entrepreneur, railroad builder, miner, jack-of-all-trades, lived through the entire cycle of human "development" of Hazel Creek. His family were among the early settlers. The first employment for people on Hazel Creek was offered when the Johnson and Harris Lumber Company cut timber and floated the logs down to their mill. A series of dams built across the creek held �402 / Part III: A Developing Economy the logs until the water was high enough to float them. In I 909 W. M. Ritter built a logging railroad and set up a large double hand-mill which employed four hundred men. Each side of the mill turned out one million board feet a month. From I9I I to I928 Ritter cut 2IO,ooo,ooo board feet from this one creek and was called the "hardwood king of the world." In 1890 copper was discovered on Sugar Fork Creek and the Adams Mining Company mined copper from 1900 to I905. In 1926 when the states of Tennessee and North Carolina bought all of the land from the people and turned it into the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, owners were reluctant to sell. A fair price was paid for the mountain and forest land, but what the sellers received was insufficient for them to buy equivalent property near towns like Bryson City. They took their money and began sorrowfully to look for new homes. For them a way of life was gone forever. Hundreds had to leave their snug mountain retreats, but only death will take from them their memories of the "good old days." John Wikle wrote in the Asheville Citizen "The bear goes unharmed and the deer play undisturbed; where bare-footed children once hoed corn, now bears wild blackberries. Where once stood a great sawmill there is only a mass of vines and trees; there is only a ghost hid in the trees where once people lived." Hazel Creek now looks as it did in I850 when the first man came. The people who once lived and reveled in a virgin paradise are now the poorer inhabitants of nearby towns. But the park will regain and retain the primeval beauty of the region. The holdings of the lumber companies were acquired without difficulty except for the 92,800 acres owned by the Champion Fibre Company, almost one-fifth of the national park. This company owned the core of the virgin timber, the slopes of New Found Gap, part of Clingman's Dome, all of Mount Le Conte, the Chimney Tops, the Three Forks, Greenbrier Wilderness, and Mount Guyot. Reuben Robertson, president of the company, argued that the spruce on the company's holdings was essential to its continued operation. Eventually Champion agreed to sell all of its land in the park for $3,00o,ooo. The company began buying its spruce in Canada, shipping it to Canton at less expense than if it had built a railroad to the crest of the Smokies to get out the timber. Eventually the federal government bought additional land. In I933 President Roosevelt allocated $I,550,ooo from Civilian Conservation Corps funds for land purchase, and by 1935 the �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 403 400,000 acres set by Congress as a requirement had been met. The two states had contributed $4,095,696, the United States $3,503,766, and the Rockefeller Memorial Fund $s,o6s,ooo. Another gift of John D. Rockefeller, Jr., of $roo,ooo made it possible for the National Park Service to purchase 1000 acres in the Linville Falls area. The Linville Gorge had already been purchased by the Forest Service as part of the Pisgah National Forest. The combined falls and gorge are now certain to be preserved for posterity as a "wild area." Camping facilities have been provided at the falls. Together the falls and the gorge provide one of the most breathtaking experiences possible for weekend visitors or one-day picnickers. The Blue Ridge Parkway's last link is now being built the length of Grandfather Mountain along a route between the crest and the former Yonahlossee Turnpike, now Highway 221, creating a strip of national park where many hoped to locate the national park of the Southern Highlands. Millions of people come to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park each year. They hike along its winding mountain trails, pitch their camps in its forests, and view some of the most luxuriant plant life in Eastern America. "More than 650 miles of horse and foot trails wind along crystal clear streams and waterfalls, past giant trees, ... through the wild beauty of spring flowers or autumn colors, and into high mountain meadows." The park offers guided nature walks along many of the trails. There are also many self-guided nature trails. The famous Appalachian Trail enters the park at Davenport Gap and traverses it for seventy-one miles, leaving it near Fontana Dam. One can hike the seventy-one miles in six to eight days, sleeping in trailside shelters. The park has some six hundred miles of streams that add beauty and can be fished for rainbow and brook trout. It can be lovely during any of the four seasons but it is probably the most beautiful during the latter half of October when there are clear days and cool nights and the coloring of the leaves presents a panorama of almost unbelievable colors. Many social and residential communities have been created, some of them organized as private clubs, others because of common interests. Among such communities near Hendersonville are Pleasant Estates, the Highland Lake Club, with clubhouse and cottages open to the public, and Laurel Park; several clubs in �404 J Part III: A Developing Economy Tryon; Hound Ears Club and Lodge; and the Carolina Caribbean Club at Beech Mountain. In addition, several communities and real estate developments have club-like restrictions; among these are Linville and Little Switzerland. A prototype of these, a club that was successful for several years was Kanuga, near Hendersonville. In the first decade of this century George Stephens of Asheville organized it after studying similar clubs in the Adirondacks, on Long Island, and in Wisconsin. A group of Charlotte businessmen bought the tract of one thousand acres and divided it into lots fifty feet by two hundred. Each of the two hundred carefully screened members received a lot, which he could not sell without the permission of Stephens and the trustees. Dues were a sum of$ I 50 for ten years. The cost of the houses built by the members was restricted to a minimum of $400 and a maximum of$2500. Running water was piped from springs on the mountain, and a dam provided a lake and a source of power for electricity. The resort opened in 1909 and was used for only six years. The flood of 1916 washed out the lake and destroyed the buildings. In 1927 the Episcopal Church bought the site for a summer conference ground. Little Switzerland was started by Judge Heriot Clarkson about 1910. The original purchase was for eleven thousand acres. A company was formed; inns, camps, and homes were planned. It was to be an attractive and exclusive colony with no lots smaller than one acre. A water system was installed and lots were sold to interesting and distinguished people. The altitude of Little Switzerland is 3 478 feet and it has a beautiful setting and magnificent views. The Switzerland Inn, owned by Mrs. Ida Clarkson, was run in connection with six cottages and a Swiss chalet. Twelve miles of scenic roads, two beautiful waterfalls, flowers and mountain shrubbery, and unsurpassed scenery have been the chief attractions. When the Blue Ridge Parkway was planned to traverse the crest of the Blue Ridge it had to pass through Little Switzerland property. Judge Clarkson objected, saying it would take three miles of the company property two hundred feet wide. Nevertheless the parkway was built to bisect the property and it has added beauty and distinction to Little Switzerland. This unique development runs for five miles along the parkway and extends one-half mile in width. There are many attractive homes on the spacious lots. Geneva Hall is the community center and nearby are camps Glen Laurel and As You Like It. �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 405 Soon after World War One, camps for boys and girls were established throughout the mountains. At first these were rugged, designed to allow the campers to experience primitive conditions. Often they were operated by local people who had no experience or training for the work. No standards for sanitation and healthful conditions had been established. But within a few years the Southern Camping Association and the American Camping Association were organized, and they carried on regular inspection of member camps. Their seals of approval were sought by camp operators and were looked for by parents in selecting camps. In addition to the many excellent privately owned camps there are a number of boy and girl scout camps. One of Transylvania County's eighteen camp communities is more than a camp. It is the Brevard Music Center, started as the Transylvania Music Camp by James Christian Pfohl in 1944. An annual music festival has been held since 1946. Now the Transylvania Music Camp is the summer home of the Brevard Music Center. It has 250 student campers, more than 165 faculty and staff members. Nine regularly performing musical groups present five concerts weekly during the summer. Improvements at the center include an additional forty acres, twenty-seven new buildings, and a new auditorium built of redwood and stone. The Music Center attracts outstanding young musicians, and there is a faculty member for every two students. Tryon, an "unspoiled paradise," has an exquisite setting. Lofty mountains rear their peaks four to five miles away. About them Mrs. Ella W. Peattie wrote the poem "These Be the Mountains That Comfort Me." The mountains provide shelter from the cold north winds. The mean temperature for January, the coldest month, is 43 °, the mean summer temperature 74o. Nearby are the charming Pacolet Valley, the crystal-clear Pacolet River, and 175 acre Lake Lanier. Sydney Lanier lived near Tryon for several years before his death in 1881. In 1896 Tryon was visited by the vice-president of the Southern Railway Company who helped to popularize the town. William Gillette, actor and playwright, built an attractive home, now the Thousand Pines Inn. Other prominent people came for the winter and many built homes. They formed the Tryon Riding and Hunt Club, the Tryon Country Club, and made the area a fashionable riding and hunting country. An annual steeple chase and a horse and hounds show are held. There are also an annual spring �406 / Part III: A Developing Economy festival and a tilting tournament. Attractive hotels are the Mimosa, Oak Hall, Oakwood, Edgewood, Thousand Pines, and Pinecrest. Two of them are open all year, the others only in winter. Prominent visitors have been John Burroughs, Fanny Hurst, Edward Waldo Emerson, Admiral Robert W. Peary, the Reverend Charles G. Sewell. Tryon is an artists' colony, and it has been for half a century a handicraft center. The Western North Carolina Associated Communities (WNCAC) grew from a drive that began in Asheville. In May 1946 the Asheville Chamber of Commerce invited public officials, leaders of civic organizations, and leading citizens from twenty-three western countries to attend a dinner meeting and discuss coordination and cooperation among the communities on regional matters. No organization developed from that meeting, perhaps because "personal acquaintance and confidence ... could not be stretched this far." Just about a month later, some eighteen people, all from communities west of Asheville, met together at Dillsboro in Jackson County in a meeting to explore promotion of tourist business, roads, and other matters of mutual interest. At this second meeting the Western North Carolina Associated Communities (WNCAC) was organized. Eleven counties were represented, plus Western Carolina College, the Cherokee Indian Reservation, and Fontana Village resort area. A projects committee recommended seven particular jobs to be launched by the WNCAC: I. To develop the North Carolina side of the Smoky Mountains National Park; 2. To establish a museum for preservation of historical materials of the mountain region; 3· To attempt to secure more adequate accommodations for tourists; 4. To assist in the completion of the Bryson City-Fontana Road; 5· To initiate a historical outdoor drama; 6. To work toward the completion of the Blue Ridge Parkway; 7. To encourage the organization of a Chamber of Commerce in each community of the WNCAC region. The organization of the Cherokee Historical Association and the production of the drama Unto These Hills are accomplishments of WNCAC. The play, poignantly concerned chiefly with the removal of the Cherokees, provides seasonal incomes for one hundred seventy persons and attracts tourists to the area. The organizers of WNCAC began talking about such a drama in 1946, and in 1950 the first performance was given. The inspiration came from "The Lost Colony," the symphonic drama by Paul �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 407 Green which has been performed on Roanoke Island throughout the summer each year since 1937. As the purpose of WNCAC was to present a drama concerning the Cherokee Indians, the cooperation of a local committee from Cherokee was essential. Kermit Hunter was asked to write the drama. Then the Cherokee Historical Association was formed to build a theater and produce the play. On March 24, 1948, the historical association was incorporated as a non-profit organization; officers were Harry E. Buchanan of Hendersonville, chairman, Percy Ferebee, vice-chairman, Mrs. Molly Arneach of Cherokee, secretary, and Joe Jennings, treasurer. Funds were recruited by pledges from people and organizations of eleven counties, the drama was written, and the Mountainside Theater with access roads was built. Contributions were made by Indian Service employees and the Eastern Band of Cherokees, traders at Cherokee, and the Catholic Church. A total of $29,286.75 was raised, to which the North Carolina General Assembly was persuaded to contribute $35,000 in 1949. Veterans who were engaged in building trades classes at Cherokee High School contributed much labor, and many others worked throughout the year 1949. From the first performance on July I, 1950, the drama was a success. Then the Cherokee Historical Association turned its attention to the Tsali Institute, a non-profit organization for the historical and anthropological study of the Cherokee Indians. It built a full size Indian village of about the year 1750, Oconaluftee, toward which the North Carolina General Assembly appropriated $25,000. Mud huts and primitive cabins in which Indians engage in native crafts exemplify the life of the Cherokees. The Museum of the Cherokee Indian is another product of the Association. It brings together artifacts that trace the complete history of the Indian, especially the Cherokees. New developments for the Eastern Cherokees are the various governmental service agencies such as a twenty-five bed hospital, a forestry division, an agricultural and soil conservation service, a water and sewer facility, the Neighborhood Youth Corps of the United States Department of Labor, and a community action program under the Office of Economic Opportunity. The Boundary Tree Enterprise, tribally owned, includes a lodge and motel and a building housing the showroom of the Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual. Most of the motels, craft shops, restaurants, and filling stations are owned and operated by Cherokees. �408 / Part III: A Developing Economy "Chiefing"- Cherokee Indian wearing a Plains Indian war bonnet to attract tourists Friends of the band have deplored the resort to "chiefing" which has been practiced by some of the men and boys. They wear the feather headdress of the Sioux Indians of the Great Plains during the tourist season and stand in front of gift shops in Cherokee to attract customers. They charge twenty-five to fifty cents to allow the curious to take their pictures and then entice the people into the shops where the handcrafted products such as baskets, pottery, and headwork are sold. The United States Department of the Interior estimates that five million tourists visit Cherokee annually. Their purchases and the services they require are an obvious boost to the economy of the Cherokees and the region. The reservation has been called �Itz Pursuit of Pleasure / 409 by the Department of the Interior the model Indian reservation of the country. It is a unique example of cooperation by the federal government, state government, associated communities and a particular community. Two years after the opening of Unto These Hills, some of the leading citizens of Boone including Mrs. J. B. Stallings, Mrs. Leo Pritchett, Stanley Harris, D. J. Whitener and Mrs. Charles Cannon of Concord organized the Southern Appalachian Historical Association. This organization engaged Kermit Hunter to write an outdoor drama Horn in the West. The "Horn" was the call of the west, of the untamed wilderness and of freedom. It is the story of the westward movement and the struggle of a group of colonists for independence and freedom from oppression, unjust taxes, and legal injustice. It involves the movement of the people across the mountains and their clash with the Indians. Daniel Boone is a heroic character in the play, but his deeds were not performed by the real Daniel Boone as he was in Kentucky at the time the drama is supposed to have taken place. The play is gripping, picturesque, exciting. It is great entertainment. It has verisimilitude: that is, although the narrative is fiction events could have happened as they are created for the audience. The setting for the drama is a unique outdoor theater that seats 2400 people. Kermit Hunter explained the nature of his outdoor dramas as art forms of three types: folk art built upon the manners, customs, beliefs, and ideals of an earlier America; commercial art, to provide dividends (tourists spend an average of $15 per day per person); fine art, to portray scenes, characters, and ideas based on fundamental and timeless truths and to give the audience inspiration. Horn in the West is produced in the Daniel Boone Theater on a tract of land purchased by the town of Boone. Two other attractions are to be found there. One is the Daniel Boone Native Garden, created by the Garden Club of North Carolina to preserve and permit people to enjoy the native shrubs, flowers, and trees of the area. The other is the Tatum House, the actual log house occupied by generations of the Tatum family and described by Charles Dudley Warner in On Horseback. It was moved to these grounds and is furnished authentically as a museum of rural life of the nineteenth century. �4IO j Part III: A Developing Economy The Zebulon B. Vance birthplace in the Reems Creek area of Buncombe County is a historic site administered by the State Department of Archives and History. The site includes the dwelling house and six farm buildings. One other log building will be added. The restoration includes the original chimney, two original fireplaces, paneling, flooring, rafters and foundation rock taken from the old house. The dwelling contains many pieces of furniture, weaving, tools, pots, artifacts used by pioneers in the eighteenth century. The Vance house was built not long after the Revolution, but it is associated with Zebulon B. Vance, the state's Civil War Governor, Senator, soldier and orator who attained "more honors than any other man in the State's history." There is also a visitor-center-museum which has an exhibit room, a lecture room, an administrative office, and rest rooms. In McDowell County the Carson House is being restored as a museum of history to "illustrate life in the Upper Catawba Valley a hundred fifty to a hundred years ago." Built about I 8 IO, the house served as the first court house when the county was created in 1843, as a stage coach stop and a fashionable inn, and during the Civil War as a "small exclusive school for girls." "As eastern America searches desperately for recreational outlets for its tens of millions, Appalachia becomes infinitely more important as a preserve for people than as a site for new industries." Among the cherished heritages of mountain people are the folk tales, the ballads, and the folk dances. Greater effort should be made to preserve and to popularize these. Tourist facilities are far different from what they were fifty years ago. The highway and the automobile have been responsible for the change. Formerly tourists were content to stay in rustic, fairly crude inns, lodges, hotels. Now people drive as far and as fast as they wish, and they will drive to where the most luxurious and attractive hotels and motels are to be found. The prices are much higher, of course, but people are willing to spend money freely for pleasure and luxuries. Far more "first class" motels are needed. The 1950's and 196o's have been years of the most rapid tourist development. An area endowed with supernal beauty and a delightfully cool summer climate had to be developed and advertised. Some attractions there were, but many were added, including winter sports. Roan Mountain in rhododendron time, the Moses Cone Estate, Mount Mitchell, Grandfather �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 4 I I Zebulon Baird Vance birthplace before restoration ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES C O. Vance Birthplace after restoration ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE PHOTO �412 / Part III: A Developing Economy Mountain, Linville Falls, Wiseman's View, and the Great Smokies should be on the itinerary of most travelers to the mountains. The Kerr Scott Dam and Reservoir, a federal construction, provides flood control of the Y adkin and its tributaries and recreational facilities. It is one of several projected dams for the Y adkin River system. Two new state parks are being developed, Pilot Mountain in Surry County and Stone Mountain in Wilkes County. The present trend is toward larger and more exclusive resorts. The Robbins brothers were highly successful in developing Hound Ears. It appears that they are even more successful with Beech Mountain. The Morton-McRae family who own Grandfather Mountain have developed Invershiel, a residential community in Scottish style. They have built a beautiful new golf course and lake at the foot of Grandfather Mountain. Around the lake and golf course they are selling home sites. Dr. Thomas Brigham and Mr. and Mrs. George McRae who helped start the Beech Mountain project are now developing Sugar Mountain. A group of Winston-Salem men and the L. A. Reynolds Construction Company have developed Seven Devils, a resort and residential area with ski slopes, a lake, homesites, golf and tennis. Roaring Gap, in Alleghany County, a resort chiefly of people from Winston-Salem has been enjoyed for many years. Nearby the High Meadows Golf Club and Ski Slope have been added recently. Today the area from Tryon to Franklin is a "golden strip" filled with summer and retirement homes and resorts. Skiing and other winter sports have been introduced. Many of the homes are luxurious and are owned chiefly by people from elsewhere. In Jackson County, for example, 2500 of 8ooo property owners are from outside the state. Among the fine inns in that area are High Hampton, Sapphire Valley, and Highlands Inn. In 1960 the total expenditures of all travelers in North Carolina were estimated at $4o8,ooo,ooo. Out-of-state travelers spent $245,ooo,ooo, North Carolina people $163,ooo,ooo. There was an increase in travel expenditures over 1959 of 4-5°/0 , over 1948 of 167%. Including local trade engaged in by travelers the amount spent in 1960 was $81o,ooo,ooo. From these figures one can readily see that "the travel business in North Carolina is a vast industry .... The travel dollar flows into a wide range of industries." The travel industry in the mountain region in 1960 brought in $58,8oo,ooo. This was 14.4% of the state total and �In Pursuit of Pleasure / 413 Richard Nixon at the Roan Mountain Rhododendron Festival, 1958 HUGH MORTON PHOTO I 0.4% of retail trade and service receipts. The total receipts of businesses that serve travelers, including local trade, was $I02,8oo,ooo. Western North Carolina's travel business is invaluable and extensive, but the region that contains the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park should have a greater share of the state's travel business. The roads from the North and Midwest passing through North Carolina must be improved. More broad highways and interstate routes are needed. Northwestern North Carolina does not have more than a few miles of four lane highways. Two Winston-Salem journal editorials stressed the position of Western North Carolina: "We need to tell the rest of the world about all that this area offers, and we need to tell our own people (like motel staffers, service station attendants, waitresses). We need more popular entertainment. We must convince wives that they should accompany their husbands on business trips here, and we must persuade them- and all visitors- to stay longer. . . . The fact remains that . . . recreational open space is fast becoming the most precious commodity in America. All that remains is some determination of how best to use this land for the good of all of us." �SOURCES Much of the information consisted of oral history from lengthy interviews (some of the elderly persons are now deceased) : D. Hiden Ramsey, Asheville Bascom Lamar Lunsford, Turkey Creek James Larkin Pearson, North Wilkesboro Dr. Benjamin Washburn, Rutherfordton Dr. Alfred Mordecai, Greensboro and Blowing Rock Granville Calhoun, Bryson City John McLeod, Mars Hill W. Ernest Bird, Cullowhee Willis Weatherford, Blue Ridge J. Walter Moore, Hayesville Mrs. Maude Gentry Long, Hot Springs Worth Morgan, Forest City Leroy Sossamon, Bryson City Mrs. Marian Ingram, Robbinsville Mrs. Lillian Thomasson, Bryson City Miss Cordelia Camp, Asheville Mrs. Mary Jane McCrary, Brevard Mrs. Nancy Alexander, Lenoir Patton Phillips, Graham County Gordon Winkler, Boone S. C. Eggers, Boone Miss Myra Champion, Asheville Mrs. Carrie Winkler, Boone James Patton, Chapel Hill Clark Medford, Waynesville Cratis Williams, Boone George M. Stephens, Asheville Dr. Edward W. Phifer, Morganton Robert Conway, Dept. of Archives and History W. H. Plemmons, Boone, formerly of Asheville Mrs. Janice Whitener, Boone James Stroup, Spruce Pine Rush Wray, Burnsville Daniel Boone, VI, Burnsville Thomas W. Ferguson, Ferguson Mrs. Annie Winkler, North Wilkesboro John Wikle, Bryson City Lynn Gault, Brasstown W. B. Stephen, Pigeon Forge Woody Brothers, Spruce Pine Edith J. Cornell, Boone Mrs. Lexine Baird, Mars Hill Harley Jolley, Mars Hill Fred 0. Scroggs, Hayesville Robbins Brothers, Watauga County Mrs. A. P. Kephart, authority on camping Rufus Morgan, Franklin Jason Deyton, Spruce Pine John Foster West, Wilkes County and Boone Miss Doris Sparks, historian of Patterson School Mrs. Elizabeth McKibben Williams, Waynesville John 0. Goodwin, Blowing Rock Jack Guy, Beech Creek Richard Chase, Beech Creek Don Lineberger, Brevard Mrs. Daisy Feagan, Columbus Weimar Jones, Franklin Col. Paul Rockwell, Asheville Alonzo Shields, Murphy �Sources / 4 I 5 The administrative staffs of the Rutherford County Hospital, Grace Hospital at Morganton, Western Carolina Center, officials of Enka, Mead, and other companies, the National Park Service, and the U.S. Forest Service were interviewed. Questionnaires were sent to twentyfour school superintendents concerning integration. Visits were made to these schools: John C. Campbell Folkschool, Crossnore, Penland, Western Carolina University, Caldwell Community College, Warren Wilson College, and Tuscola High School. PRIMARY SOURCES, PUBLISHED AND UNPUBLISHED Bannerman, Arthur M., "The Historical Background of Warren Wilson College," The Owl and the Spade, XXI (Oct., I944). Barringer, 0. L., "An Automobile Trip to Blowing Rock," Country Life Oune, I9IO). Battle, William James, "A Mountain Tramp from Black Mountain to Highlands and to Blowing Rock," UNC Magazine 1886-188g, VIII, Nos. 2 and 4· Battle, William, Memories of an Old- Time Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, I945). Branson, Levi, North Carolina Business Directory (Raleigh, I884). Butler, Marguerite, "A Dream Come True," Mountain Life and Work, VII, No.3. Campbell, Robert F., Mission Work Among the Mountain Whites in Asheville Presbytery (Asheville, 1898). Chataigne's North Carolina Directory and Gazetteer (Raleigh, r884). Cilley, Clinton A., Diary, I875-I885, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Cowles, Calvin Josiah, Papers, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Cozens, S. D., "An Orderly Entrance Into Town," Fijieenth Pennsylvania Cavalry (Phila., I9o6). Davis, Rebecca Harding, "By-Paths in the Mountains," Harper's New Monthly Magazine (I88o). Doak, Henry Melvil, The Wagonauts Abroad (Nashville, 1892). Erwin, W. C., "Catawba Valley and Highlands," Pamphlet in the W. C. Erwin Collection, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill (see also the Erwin Papers in this file). Ferguson, Thomas W., Home on the Yadkin (Winston-Salem, 1957). Ford, Willis, "Penland Goes to the Fair," Mountain Life and Work, IX (3), I9-2I. Guyot, Arnold, "Notes on the Geography of the Mountain District of Western North Carolina," North Carolina Historical Review, XV, 25I-JI8. Hamiltom, J. G. de Roulhac, cd., The Papers of Randolph Abbott Shotwell (Raleigh, I 9 3 I). �416 / Sources Harper, G. F. W., "Produce Book, 1877-1878," Southern Historical Collection UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Harper, James C., Diary, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Hodges, Luther, Addresses and Papers, James Patton, ed. (Raleigh, 1962) James, William, "On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings," Essays on Faith and Morals (New York, 1896). Kephart, Horace, "Land of the Eastern Wilderness," World's Work (April, 1926), 617-32· King, Edward, "The Great South. Among the Mountains ofWestern North Carolina," Scribner's Monthly (March, 1874). Lenoir, William, Papers, # 426. Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. McClure, James, "Ten Years of the Farmers' Federation," Mountain Life and Work, VII (April, 1930), 23-25. Madison, Bobert Lee, "Experiences of a Pedagogue in the Carolina Highlands," series of articles, Asheville Citizen-Times (April 23-August IJ, 1938). Mason, Henry McGilbert, "Memoir of a Southern Appalachian Mountaineer," typescript. Merrimon, A. S., "The A. S. Merrimon Journal," North Carolina Historical Review, VIII, 300-330. Mordecai, Alfred, "James Edwin Brooks, M.D." North Carolina Medical journal Oune, 1958). "Notes from the John C. Campbell Folk School," Mountain Life and Work Oan., 1928). Pinchot, Gifford, Biltmore Forest, An Account of Its Treatment and the Results of the First Year's Work (Chicago, 1893). Booklet distributed at the World's Fair. Pinchot, Gifford, Breaking New Ground (New York, 1947). Schenck, Carl Alvin, The Biltmore Story (St. Paul, 1955). Schenck, Carl Alvin, The Forest Fair in Biltmore Forest (Asheville, 1908). Schenck, David, Diary, Vol. 8, "Jottings on the Circuits," typed from the originals given by Paul W. Schenck, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Settle, Thomas, Papers, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Seven Months a Prisoner: or Thirty-six Days in the Woods (Indianapolis, r868). Simpson, George L., Western North Carolina Associated Communities (Cherokee, 1956). Sloop, Mary M., and Le Gette Blythe, Miracle in the Hills (New York, 1953). Smith, H. P., Some Results of Mission Work in the Mountains of North Carolina (Asheville, 1898). The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Qfficial Records rif the Union and Confederate Armies (Washington, D.C., 1897). �Sources / 417 Warner, Charles Dudley, On Horseback: a Tour in Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee (Boston, I888). Washburn, Benjamin E., As I Recall (New York, I960). _ _ _ _ A Country Doctor in the South Mou11tains (Asheville, 1955). _ _ _ _ A History of the North Carolina State Board of Health, I877-1925 (Raleigh, 1966). _ _ _ _ Rutheiford County and Its Hospital (Spindale, 1960). Washington, Lawrence D., Confessions of a Schoolmaster (San Antonio, 1939). West, John Foster, "Folklore of a Mountain Childhood," North Carolina Folklore, XVI (November, I968), No. 3, I66-I69. Western North Carolina Land Company (Philadelphia, I 874), also I 876 and I 883 editions). Wiley, Calvin H., Papers, Southern Historical Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Zeigler, Wilbur G., and Ben S. Grosscup, The Heart of the Alleghanies or Western North Carolina (Raleigh, r883). OFFICIAL REPORTS, DOCUMENTS, AND GOVERNMENT PUBLICATIONS Acts Relating to the Western North Carolina Railroad (n/d) a bound reprint of all acts, I852-r88o. The Applachian Trail, Forest Service, U.S. Department of Agriculture. This is one of hundreds of brochures published by the U.S. Forest Service concerning the facilities and opportunities offered the public in the the National forests, which may be obtained from the Asheville office of the service. Ayres, H. B. and W. W. Ashe, Southern Appalachian Forests. (Washington, I905). U.S. Geological Survey, Professional Paper No. 37. Biennial Reports of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, I 887-1888 to the present. All of these were searched for data concerning the public schools. Cameron, J. D., Handbook of the State of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1893). "Cherokee Indian Agency," U.S. Department of the Interior, mimeographed. Clark, Walter, ed., Histories of the Several Regiments and Battalions from North Carolina in the Great War 1861-1865 (Raleigh, 1927) 5 vols. Clark, Walter, Ed., North Carolina State Records. Connor, R. D. W., North Carolina Handbook, (Raleigh, I9I3)County and City Data Book, various issues by the U.S. Census. Documents of the Sessions of the North Carolina General Assembly, 1871, 187 2, 1879. Investigations of fraud and corruption. Educational Publications of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, Valuable source of data throughout the entire period. First Biennial Report of the Commissioners to Build the Western Insane Asylum of North Carolina at Morganton, N.C. (Raleigh, 1876). �4 I 8 / Sources Holmes, J. A., and William Cain, North Carolina Geological Survey (Raleigh, 1893). Laws and Resolutions of the State of North Carolina Passed by the General Assembly at Its Session of 1876-1877 (Raleigh, 1877). North Carolina Agricultural Statistics: Tobacco, Featuring County Estimates, 1925-1968 (Raleigh, 1968). North Carolina Constitution. North Carolina Board of Health, Biennial Reports. North Carolina Board of Higher Education in North Carolina, Reports. North Carolina Department of Water and Air Resources, annual reports. North Carolina Geological Survey, Mineral Industry of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1901ff. Economic Papers nos. 4, 6-9, II, 14, 15, 23, 34, 49, 55, 6o). North Carolina Tobacco Reports, 1967-1968, Bulletin of the N.C. Dept. of Agriculture, No. 191 (May, 1968). Page, Roger J., The Code of the City of Asheville (Asheville, 1887). Parker, John M., III, Residual Kaolin Deposits of the Spruce Pine District (Bulletin No. 8, N.C. Dept. of Conservation and Development 1946). Pickett, George, "Report," N. C. Department of Air and Water Resources at Governor Moore's Conference in Asheville, 1968. The Power Situation in North Carolina, N. C. Dept. of Conservation and Development, 1924. Pratt, Joseph Hyde, Good Roads Days. (Ec. Paper No. 35, Raleigh, 1914). _ _ _ _ Proceedings of the Annual Convention of the North Carolina Good Roads Association (Charlotte 1912). _ _ _ _ Proceedings of the Good Roads Institute (Raleigh, 1914). _ _ _ _ and Miss H. M. Berry, Geological and Economic Survey, Economic Paper No. 44 (Raleigh, 1917). Public Education in North Carolina, a Report by the Educational Commission (1920). Report of the Board of Directors, State School for the Deaf and Dumb, Morganton, I 89 5. A Report from Western North Carolina University: Story of Twenty Years Progress (Cullowhee, 1969). State of North Carolina Wildlife Commission, Official Regulations. Trees, The Year book of Agriculture, U.S. Department of Agriculture (Washington, D.C., 1949). Weather and Climate. Bulletin No. 396, Experiment Station (Raleigh) MASTERS' THESES AND DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS Allen, Roscoe J., "A History and Development of Education in Wilkes County North Carolina," thesis, University of Tennessee, 1952. Bowlick, C. A., "A Study of the Cranberry Ore Belt," thesis, Appalachian State University, hereinafter cited as ASU. �Sources / 419 Cotton, W. D., "Appalachian North Carolina, a Political Study ... ," doctoral dissertation, UNC, Chapel Hill, 1954. Gardner, Anne Cofield, "Social Organization and Community Solidarity in Painttown," thesis, UNC, Chapel Hill. Hartman, Vladimir E., "A Cultural Study of a Mountain Community in Western North Carolina," doctoral dissertation, UNC, Chapel Hill, 1957· Holcombe, David, "The Western North Carolina Railroad," thesis, Wake Forest University. Jolley, Harley, "The Blue Ridge Parkway: Origins and Early Development," doctoral dissertation, Florida State University, 1964, recently expanded and published by the University of Tennessee Press. Jones, Perry, "The European Wild Boar in North Carolina," thesis, ASU, 1959· Kuhlman, Clarence E., "Municipally Owned Electric Utilities in North Carolina," doctoral dissertation, UNC, Chapel Hill, 1941. Penley, Larry, "A Baptist People and the Events Leading to the Formation of the Three Forks Association," thesis, ASU. Perritt, Lytton Gladstone, "Growth and Development of Electric Power in the Carolinas," doctoral dissertation, UNC, Chapel Hill. Plemmons, William H., "The City of Asheville," thesis, Duke University. Schaff, W. R., "The Growth and Development of Education in Caldwell County," thesis, UNC, Chapel Hill, 1926. Sparks, Doris, "The History of Patterson School, Caldwell County," thesis, ASU, 195!. Thomas, David Nolan, "The Early History of the North Carolina Furniture Industry, I 880-1921, doctoral dissertation, UNC, Chapel Hill, 1964. Ward, Francis Ehl, "The East Tennessee and Western North Carolina Railroad," thesis, ASU. Williams, Cratis, "The Southern Mountaineer in Fiction," doctoral dissertation, New York University, Ann Arbor Microfilm. Wooten, Samuel R., "A History of Richmond Hill Law School," thesis, ASU, 1963. PERIODICALS Abrams, Amos, "Frank Proffitt: A Legend A-Borning," North Carolina Folklore, XIV (Nov., 1966), No. 2, p. 19. Argow, Keith, "The Cradle of Forestry in America," journal of Forestry, LXII (1964), reprinted from American Forests (May, 1954). Armstrong Anne W., "The Southern Mountaineers," The Yale Review (Spring, 1935). Ashe, W. W ., "Creation of the Eastern National Forests," American Forestry (Sept., 1922), 521-25. Ashe W W., "Linville Gorge, A State Park for North Carolina," Parks and Recreation (Jan.-Feb., 1923), 235-90. �420 / Sources "Ballads and Songs of Western North Carolina," Journal of American Folkiore, XII (April, May, June, 1909), 238. Bell, Marshall, "Hon. Cope Elias, a Memorial Sketch," Report of the Thirteenth Annual Meeting of the North Carolina Bar Assn., 60-62. The bar association reports contain obituaries of deceased lawyers. Burnett, Edward Candy, "The Hog Drivers' Play Song and Some of Its Relatives," Agricultural History, XXXIII, 161. Canby, Henry Seidel, "Top of Smoky," Harpers, (March, 1916), pp. 580583. "Backwinds of the Blue Ridge," Blackwood's Magazine (Dec., 1912). "An American Backwater," Blackwoods Magazine (Sept., 19II), pp. 355-66. Buckley, S. B., "Mountains of North Carolina and Tennessee," American Journal of Science and Arts, XXVII (March, 1859). Carter, L. L. "Appalachian Highlands," Travel Magazine (Sept., 1909). Chapman, Marston, "American Speech as Practiced in the Southern Highlands," New York Century Magazine, CXVII (1929), 617-623. Connor, R. D. W., "The Peabody Educational Fund," South Atlantic Quarterly, V, 169-181. Cope, James, "Mountaineers of Western North Carolina," Mountain Life and Work, I (Oct., 1925), No. 3, 9-11. Eaton, Allen, "The Mountain Handicrafts," Mountain Life and Work, VI, No. 2, 22-30. French Broad River Basin Pollution Survey Report, State Stream Sanitation Committee, N. C. State Board of Health, 1957. Fuller, Raymond, "All-time American Stock," Mentor, XVI (7), 15-16. Griffith, Robert W., "Industrial Development of Western North Carolina," The Southern Tourist (March, 1926). Guild, Curtis, Jr., "The Appalachian Forests," American Forestry, XVI (1910), 69. Gwaltney, W. R., "Capture of Fort Hamby," The Statesville Landmark (6, 19, 1903). Harmon, George D., "The North Carolina Cherokees and the New Echota Treaty of 1835," North Carolina Historical Review, VI Ouly, 1929), 237-253· Hatcher,]. Wesley, "Glimpses of Apalachian America's Basic Conditions of Living," Mountain Life and Work, XIV Oan., 1939). Holliman, Harvey, "A Factory in the Sky," Mountain Life and Work, X, 29. Traces Enka from the start to 1940. Huffman, Alfred, "The Mountaineer in Industry," Mountain Life and Work, V Oan., 1930), 5-7. Hunter, Kermit, "The Outdoor Historical Drama," North Carolina Historical Review, XXX, 218-222. Kennedy, Philip Houston, "Present Status of Ballad Collecting and Geographical Ballad Distribution in North Carolina," North Carolina Folklore, XIII, r -2, 67-82. �Sources / 42 I Kirke, Edmund, "On the French Broad," Lippincotts Magazine (Dec., 1840). Knight, Edgar W., "Education in the Southern Mountains," School and Society Ouly 29, 1922), 13 pages. Loehr, Rodney C., "Saving the Kerf: the Introduction of the Bandsaw," Agricultural History, XXIII Ouly, 1949), 168-172. Maunder, Elwood R. and Elwood Demmon, "Trailblazing in the Southern Paper Industry," Forest History, V (1961) 6-12. Mooney, James, "Folklore of the Carolina Mountains," Journal of American Folklore (April-June, 1889). Moser, Joan, "Traditional Music of the Southern Appalachians: Traditional Fiddle Tunes," North Carolina Folklore, XII (Dec., 1964), No. 2, p. 2. Myers, John, "The Mountaineer in Industry," Mountain Life and Work, VI Ouly, 1930), 7-11. North Carolina Medical journal. All volumes were examined for data concerning the western counties. Phifer, Edward W., "Saga of a Burke County Family," North Carolina Historical Review, XXXIX, three installments. _ _ _ _ "Slavery in Microcosm: Burke County, North Carolina," Journal of Southern History, XXVIII, 137-165. "Picturesque America on the French Broad River," Appleton's journal (1870-71). Pinchot, Gifford, "How Forestry Began in the United States," Agricultural History, XI Oan., 1937), 255-265. "Pisgah Forest Purchased," American Forests, XX (1914), 425-429. Pratt, H. H., "Southern Appalachian Forest Reserve," Elisah Mitchell Scientific Society journal (December, 1905), 156-64. Price Overton W., "George Washington Vanderbilt, Pioneer in Forestry," American Forests, XX (1914), 419-425. _ _ _ _ "Practical Forestry in Southern Appalachians," Yearbook of the U.S. Dept. of Agriculture (1900). Rambo, M. G., "The 'Submerged Tenth' Among the Southern Mountaineers," Methodist Review Ouly, 1905), 565-75. Randolph, H. S., "The Asheville Farm School," Mountain Life and Work (October, 1932), 16-20. Reece, W. Todd, "Mores of Mountain Music," North Carolina Folklore, VIII (Dec., 1968), No. 2, 36-37. Schantz, 0. M., "Beyond the Haze in the High Smokies," Country Life in America (Aug., 1926), 6o-6r. Sharp, Paul F., "The Tree-Farming Movement: Its Origin and Development," Agricultural History, XXXIII (April, 1949), 41-45. Sheppard, Muriel E., "Forgotten Valley," South Atlantic Quarterly, XXXIII (1934), 63-82. Shurtleff, A. A., "A visit to the Proposed National Park Areas in the Southern Appalachians," Landscape Architecture, Oan., 1926), 67-73. Smiley, David L., "Educational Attitudes of North Carolina Baptists," North Carolina Historical Review, XXXV (1958), 316-27. �422 / Sources Smith, Charles Dennis, "The Appalachian Park Movement, I885-190I," North Carolina Historical Review, XXXVII, 58-65. Smith,]. R., "Farming Appalachia," The American Review ofReviews (March, 19I6), 329-36. Street, Julia Montgomery, "Mountain Dulcimer," North Carolina Folklore, XIV (Nov., 1966), No. 2, 27. Tieran, Frances Fisher (Christian Reid), "The Mountain Regions of North Carolina," Appleton's journal, (March, I877). Watkins, Floyd C., "Thomas Wolfe," South Atlantic Quarterly, I (195 I). Wilds, ]. T., "The Mountain Whites of the South," Missionary Review (Dec., I 895). Woolson, Constance Fenimore, "The French Broad," Harper's New Monthly Magazine (April, I 875). GENERAL WORKS, REGIONAL, COUNTY, AND LOCAL HISTORIES Alexander, Nancy, Here Will I Dwell (Lenoir, I956), A History of Caldwell County. Allen, W. C., History of Haywood County (Waynesville, 1908). Allen, Martha N., Asheville and Land of the Sky (Charlotte, I960). Alley, Felix A., Random Thoughts and Musings of a Mountaineer (Salisbury). Anderson, Robert Campbell, The Story of Montreat from Its Beginning, I8971947 (Montreat, I947). Annual Eastern National Park to Park Guide (Asheville). Arthur, John Preston, Western North Carolina: A History from 1730-1913 (Raleigh, I914). Awle, Wm. Cicero, Centennial of Haywood County and Its County Seat (Waynesville, 1908). Baker, Gladys, The County Agent (Chicago, 1939). Barrett, John, North Carolina As a Civil War Battleground (Raleigh, I960). _ _ _ _ The Civil War in North Carolina (Chapel Hill, I963). Biltmore House and Gardens, pamphlet published by the Biltmore Company. Biographical Directory of the American Congress (Washington, D.C. ). Biographical History of North Carolina (Greensboro, ). Bird, William Ernest, "Geographic and Historical Backgrounds of the Cullowhee Area," paper read to the joint meeting of the North Carolina Literary and Historical Association and the Western North Carolina Historical Association, Cullowhee, July 22, 1960. _ _ _ _ The History of Western Carolina College: The Progress of an Idea (Chapel Hill, I963). Black Mountain College: The Visual Arts As Practiced at Black Mountain College. Program of an exhibit with historical sketch, Carroll Rice Museum (I966). Blythe, LeGette, Mountain Doctor (New York, I964). �Sources / 423 Boswell, Martha Gash, "Notes on Transylvania Railroad," Transylvania Souvenir Program, r86r-1961 (Brevard, 1961). _ _ _ _ "Brevard's First Boom," Ibid. Boyd, C. R. Resources of Southwest Virginia (New York, r88r). Brooks, James E., Green Leaf and Gold (Raleigh, 1962). Brown, Cecil Kenneth, The State Highway System of North Carolina, Its Evolution and Present Status (Chapel Hill, 193 r). _ _ _ _ , A State Movement in Railroad Development (Chapel Hill, 1928). Brown, Frank C., Collection of North Carolina Folklore, gen. ed., Norman I. White (Durham, 1952), 7 vols. Brown, Hugo Victor, A History of the Education of Negroes (Raleigh, 1961). Brown, 0 Lester, Blanford Barnard Dougherty: A Man to Match His Mountains (Boone, 1963). Buckingham, James S., Slave States of America (London, 1842). Burkhead, L. S., A Centennial History of Methodism in North Carolina (Raleigh, 1876). Camp, Cordelia, David Lowry Swain: Governor and University President. (Asheville, 1963). _ _ _ _ , Governor Vance: A Life for Young People (Asheville, 1961). _ _ _ _ , "Handicrafts in Western North Carolina Highlands," typescript. _ _ _ _ A Thought at Midnight (Asheville, 1969). The Asheville Teachers College. Campbell, John C., The Southern Highlander and His Homeland (New York, 1921). Campbell, Olive Dame, and Cecil Sharp, English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians (New York and London, 1917). _ _ _ _ , Southern Highland Schools Maintained by Denominational and Independent Agencies (New York, 1921). Carolina and Northwestern Railway, People's Own Line (Richmond, 1877). Cathey, Cornelius 0., Agriculture in North Carolina Before the Civil War (Raleigh, 1967). Centennial History of Clay County, North Carolina, 1861-1961 (Hayesville, 1961). Chase, Richard, Gran4father Tales: American-English Folk Tales (Boston, 1948). The Cherokee Indian, Qualla Indian Reservation. Booklet. Chunn, Ida, Descriptive Guidebook to North Carolina Mountains (New York, r88r). Clark, Elmer T., Methodism in Western North Carolina (Lake Junaluska, 1966). Cohen, John, "Introduction to Styles in Old-Time Music," New Lost City Ramblers Song Book (New York, 1964). Connor, R. D. W., Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth (Chapel Hill, 1930). Cooper, Horton, History of Avery County (Newland, 1963). Co-operative Study of the City of Asheville- Buncombe County, North Carolina State Board of Health Conference (Jan. 30-Feb. 5, 1963). �424 / Sources Corbitt, David Leroy, The Formation of the North Carolina Counties 16631943 (Raleigh, 1950). Crabtree, Beth G., North Carolina Governors, 1585-1958 (Raleigh, 1958). Craig, D. I., A History of the Development of the Presbyterian Church in North Carolina and of Synodical Home Missions (Richmond, 1907). Cranford, Fred, The Waldenses of Burke County (Morganton, 1969). Croffert, W. A., The Vanderbilts (New York, 1886). Crouch, John, Historical Sketches of Wilkes County (Wilkesboro, 1902). Cushman, Rebecca, Swing Your Mountain Gal (Boston and New York, 1934). _ _ _ _ "Seed of Fire," book-length typescript, many photographs. North Carolina Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. Dabney, Charles William, Universal Education in the South (Chapel Hill, 1936). Daniels, Jonathan, Tar Heels (New York, 1947). Davidson, Donald, The Tennessee (New York, 1948). Davidson, John Mitchell, "Sketch of the Davidson Family," typescript in North Carolina Room, Pack Memorial Library, Asheville. Davidson, Theodore F., "Reminiscences and Traditions of Western North Carolina," paper read before the Pen and Plate Club of Asheville. De Long, Mrs. Roy J., "Food Preservation in Early Transylvania County," Transylvania County Centennial Historical Program (Brevard, 1961). Dorland-Bell Schools Bulletin. Drane, Brent S., Chestnut and the Chestnut Blight (Raleigh). Dugger, Shepherd M., The War Trails of the Blue Ridge (Banner Elk, 1932). _ _ _ _ , The Balsam Groves of Grandfather Mountain (Philadelphia, 1909). Dykeman, Wilma, Prophet of Plenty (Knoxville, 1966). _ _ _ _ and James Stokely, Seeds of Southern Change: The Life of Will Alexander (New York, 1962). Eaton, Allen, Handicrafts of the Southern Highlands (New York, 1937). Edmonds, Helen G., The NeJ?,ro and Fusion Politics in North Carolina, 18941901 (Chapel Hill, 1951). Ehle, John, The Road (New York, 1967). Electric Power in a Finer Carolina, Carolina Power and Light Co. pamphlet. Feasibility Study, Continuing Education Center (for ASU) (Helen, Georgia, 1969). Fiftieth Anniversary Rededication and Open House of Grace Hospital, Morganton, May 13, 1956, contains historical sketch. Fiske, John, Old Virginia and Her Neighbors (Boston, 1897). Fletcher, Arthur, A History of Ashe County Qefferson, 1963). Fletcher, J. L., A History of the Ashe, North Carolina, and New River, Virginia, Baptist Associations (Raleigh, 1935). The Floods of 1916. Southern Railway Co. (1917). Freel, Mrs. C. S., "Fort Butler and the Cherokee Departure for the Indian Territory." Address. �Sources / 42 5 Freel, Margaret, Our Heritage: The People of Cherokee County, North Carolina. Frome, Michael, Strangers in High Places (Garden City, New York, 1966). Gibson, Henry H., American Forest Trees, ed. by H. Maxwell (Chicago, 1913). Glea Alpine Springs, (advertising pamphlet, 1879). Gray, Idyl Dial, Azure Lure: A Romance of the Mountains (Asheville, 1924). Griffin, Clarence W., History of Old Tryon and Rutherford Counties, 17301936 (Asheville, 1937). _ _ _ _ , History of Rutherford County, 1937-1951 (Asheville, 1957). _ _ _ _ , Western North Carolina Sketches (Forest City, 1941). Gulick, John, Cherokees at the Crossroads (Chapel Hill, 1960). Hale, P.M., In the Coal and Iron Counties of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1883). _ _ _ _ , Woods and Timbers of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1890). Harden, John, North Carolina Roads and their Builders, II (Raleigh, 1966). Hayes, Johnson, The Land of Wilkes (Wilkesboro, 1962). Helper, Hinton Rowan, The Impending Crisis of the South (New York, 1857). Henderson, Archibald, The Conquest of the Old Southwest (New York, 1920). Henredon Furniture Industries, Inc., Annual Report, (1968). Henry, Mellinger E., Folk-Songs from the Southern Highlands (New York, 1938). Herring, Harriet L., Passing of the Mill Village: Revolution in a Southern Institution (Chapel Hill, 1949). Hickerson, Thomas Felix, Echoes of Happy Valley: Letters and Diaries, Family Life in the South, Civil War History (Chapel Hill, 1962). _ _ _ _ , Happy Valley (Durham, 1940). Hobbs, Samuel H., Jr., North Carolina Economic and Social (Chapel Hill, 1930). Holder, Rose Howell, Mciver of North Carolina (Chapel Hill, 1957). Hollingsworth, Jesse G., History of Surry County, or Annals of Northwest North Carolina (Greensboro, 1935). Holmes, J. S., Mount Mitchell and Mount Mitchell State Park (1919). Housley, Jay, Brief History of Tapoco and the Great Smoky Country (Tapoco Lodge, nfd). Hoyle, Bernadette, Tar Heel Writers I Know (Winston-Salem, 1956). Illick, Joseph S., Tree Habits: How to Know the Hardwoods (Washington, D.C., 1924). Illustrated Guidebook of the Western North Carolina Railroad (n/d). Jackson, George Pullen, Another Sheaf of White Spirituals (Gainesville, Florida, 1952). _ _ _ _ , White Spirituals of the South Uplands (Chapel Hill, 1933). _ _ _ _ , Spiritual Folk Songs of Early America (New York, 1937). Jefferys, Grady, Crossties Through Carolilw (Raleigh, 1969). Jenkins, Mark, Historical Sketch of Calvary Episcopal Church (Fletcher, 1958). Johnson, Gerald W., The Making of a Southern Industrialist (Chapel Hill, 1952). Johnson, Monte, "The Presbyterian," Religion in the Appalachian Mountains (Berea, 1955). �426 / Sources Judson College Catalogue, 1890-1891. Kephart, Horace, National Park in the Great Smoky Mountains (Asheville, 1925). _ _ _ _ , Our Southern Highlanders (New York, 1922). Kerr, W. C., Western North Carolina (Raleigh, 1883). King, Edward, The Great South (Hartford, 1875). Knight, Edgar W., Public School Education in North Carolina (Durham, 1916). Koch, Frederick H., Smoky Mountain Road (Chapel Hill, 1939). Leach, MacEdward, The Ballad Book (New York, 1933). Lefler, Hugh T. and Albert Ray Newsome, North Carolina: The History of a Southern State (Chapel Hill, 1954). Lewis, Charles Lee, Philander Priestly Claxton: Crusader for Public Education (Knoxville, 1948). Lomax, Alan, The Folk Songs of North America (New York, 1960). Long, W. Ray, An Historical Sketch of Linville (n/d). Lovvorn, R. L., Health and Health Services in the Southern Appalachians (Raleigh, 1959). McCrary, Mary Jane, The Goodly Heritage (Brevard, 1959). _ _ _ _ , "Transylvania County, 1861-1961" Transylvania County Centennial Historical Souvenir Program (Brevard, 1961). McLeod, John, From These Stones (Mars Hill, 1965). McNelley, Pat, ed., The First Forty Years: John C. Campbell Folkschool (Brasstown, 1966). Malone, Dumas, Edwin A. Alderman, a Biography (New York, 1946). Manpower Education in Western North Carolina (Washington, D.C. 1968). Mead, Martha N., Asheville in the Land of the Sky (Richmond, 1942). Mead Corporation, Progress Report for Employees: Forty Years of Progress in Sylva, North Carolina, (Typescript, n/d). Medford, W. Clark, Land of the Sky (Waynesville, ). _ _ _ _ , Mountain People, Mountain Times (Waynesville, 1963). Miller, Leonard P., Education in Buncombe County (Asheville, 1965). Milling, Chapman J., Red Carolinians (Chapel Hill, 1940). Montreat-Anderson College Catalogue, 1913 through 1966, shows the history year by year. Moore, Hight C., Patton: Southern Highlander. A Biography of Reverend Robert Logan Patton (n/d). Morgan, Lucy, and LeGette Blythe, Gift From the Hills (New York, 1958). Morley, Margaret, The Carolina Mountains (Boston and New York, 1913). Noble, M. C. S., A History of the Public School of North Carolina (Chapel Hill, 1930). Mount Mitchell Railroad (Asheville, 1918). Mountain Research Station. Pamphlet distributed at the station. Niles, John J., Songs of the Hill Folk: Twelve Ballads from Kentucky, Virginia, and North Carolina ( 1934). North Carolina Good Roads Association, Road Maps and Tour Book (1916). Nowell, Elizabeth, The Letters of Thomas Wolfe (New York, 1956). Nowell, Elizabeth, Thomas Wolfe (New York, 1960). �Sources / 42 7 Orr, Oliver H., Jr., Charles Brantley Aycock (Chapel Hill, 1961). Pace, Herbert E., Fifty Years Ago Around Saluda (Saluda, 1957). Parker, Haywood, Folklore of the North Carolina Mountaineer (Asheville, 1906). Parris, John A., My Mountains, My People (Asheville, 1957). _ _ _ _ , Roaming the Mountains (Asheville, 1955). Patton, Sadie Smathers, "Madison County," unpublished typescript. _ _ _ _, "Mills River Baptist Church: the History of the First Hundred years," typescript. _ _ _ _ , "Pages from the History of the Speculation Lands in Western North Carolina," typescript in North Carolina Collection, UNC Library, Chapel Hill. _ _ _ _ , ·Sketches of Polk County History (Hendersonville, 1950). _ _ _ _ , The Story of Henderson County (Asheville, 1947). Pearson, James Larkin, Fifty Acres and Other Poems (Wilkesboro, 1933). Pearson, Thomas, Richmond Hill Museum (Asheville, 1959). The 191 6 Pictorial History of Haywood County, special industrial and resort edition of the Carolina Mountaineer and the Canton Observer. Reprint. Plyler, Alva W., "The Early Circuit Riders of Western North Carolina," address before the Western North Carolina Conference Historical Society (Asheville, Nov. 14, 1917). Pomeroy, Kenneth B., andJames G. Yoho, North Carolina Lands (Washington, D.C., ). Population and Economic Analysis of the Asheville Metropolitan Area and the Western North Carolina Region That It Serves (Asheville, 1966). Powell, William S. Higher Education in North Carolina (Raleigh, 1964). Preslaw, Charles]. ed., A History of Catawba County (Salisbury, 1954). Price, Charles L., "The Railroad Schemes of George W. Swepson," East Carolina College Publications in History, I (1964), 32-50. Price, R. M., Holston Methodism (Nashville, 1908). Pringle, George H., Inventory of Assets of Jackson County, Jackson County Chamber of Commerce, (n/d). Proceedings of the North Carolina Teachers Assembly, Haywood White Sulphur Springs, June 16-July r, 1884. Putnam, John F., The Plucked Dulcimer of the Southern Mountains (Berea, 1957). Richmond and Danville Railroad, Excursion Guide to Virginia and North Carolina Health Resorts (r883). Richmond and Danville Railroad, Summer Resort (1884). Richardson, Frank, From Sunrise to Sunset (Bristol, 1910). Roberts, Bruce, The Face of North Carolina (Charlotte, 1960). Robertson, Archie, Slow Train to Yesterday (Boston, 1945). Sage, Frances and Margaretta Williamson, Rural Children in Selected Counties in North Carolina (Washington, D.C., 1918). Sawyer, Harriet Adams, Souvenir of Asheville or Skyland (St. Louis, 1892). Scarborough, Dorothy, A Songcatcher in the Southern Mountains (New York, 1937). �428 / Sources Scheer, Julian, Tweetsie, The Blue Ridge Stemwinder (Charlotte, 1958). Sharpe, William, A New Geography of North Carolina, 3 vols. (Raleigh, 1954). _ _ _ _ , A Complete Guide to the Mountains of North Carolina (Raleigh, 19 53). Sill, James B., Historical Sketches: Diocese of Western North Carolina (Asheville, 1955). Small, John K., Flora of the Southeastern United States, 2nd ed. (New York, 1913). Smathers, G. H., The History of Land Titles in Western North Carolina, (1938). Smith, A. D., Western North Carolina Historical and Biographical (Charlotte, 1890). Smith, R. P., Experiences in Mountain Mission Work (Richmond, 1931). Smith, Harvey L., Society and Health in a Mountain Community (Chapel Hill, 1961). Sondley, F. A., "Colonel Allen Turner Davidson," address, 1922. _____ , History of Buncombe County, 2 vols., (Asheville, 1930). South, Stanley, Indians of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1959). Southern Railway, Flood of July, 1916: How the Southern Railway Met an Emergency (1917). Spencer, Cornelia Phillips, The Last Ninety Days of the War in North Carolina (New York, 1866). Spilman, Bernard W., Ridgecrest- Past, Present, Future (Ridgecrest, 1928). Stephens, Eleanor B. What We Can Do (Asheville, 1962). Stevens, William, Anvil of Adversity (New York, 1968). Stillwell, E. H., Notes on the History of Western North Carolina Part I: A Handbook and Syllabus (Cullowhee, 1927). Strange, Robert, Eoneguski, or The Cherokee Chief (1839). Taliaferro, Hardin E., "Fisher River Sketches," Harper's New Monthly Magazine (1859); reproduced, 1955. Thomasson, Lillian Franklin, Swain County, Early History and Educational Development (Bryson City, 1965). Tiernan, Frances Fisher (Christian Reid), The Land of the Sky (New York, I 876). Tilley, Nannie Lee, The Bright Leaf Tobacco Industry, 1860-1926 (Chapel Hill, 1948). Tindall, George B., The Emergence of the New South (Baton Rouge, 1967). Toynbee, Arnold J. The Study of History (New York and London, 1947). Van Noppen, Ina W., Stoneman's Last Raid (Boone, 1961). Walser, Richard, The Enigma of Thomas Wolfe (Cambridge, ). _ _ _ _ , Nematodes in My Garden of Verse: A Little Book of Tar Heel Poems (Winston-Salem, 1959). _ _ _ _ , North Carolina Poetry (Richmond, 1951). _ _ _ _ , Poets of North Carolina (Richmond, 1963). Warren Wilson College Catalogue, 1969-70. �Sources / 429 Watts, George B., The Waldenses in the New World (Durham, 1941). Way, William W., Jr., The Clinchfield Railroad (Chapel Hill, 1931). Waynick, Capus, North Carolina Roads and Their Builders, I (Raleigh, 1949). Weatherford, W. D., Life and Religion in Southern Appalachia (New York, 1962). Western North Carolina Regional Planning Commission Report (r96r). White, M. L., The History of Amos Owens of Cherry Mountain (Polkville, 1901). Whitener, Daniel J., A History of Watauga County (Boone, 1949). Wilburn, Hiram C., Cherokee Landmarks Around the Great Smokies (Asheville, 1966). Wiley, Calvin, North Carolina Reader, No. III (New York, 1868). Wilgus, D. K., Anglo-American Folksong Scholarship Since 1898 (New Brusnwick, 1959). Wilson, Mary Moretz, "Nineteenth Century Education in Watauga County," typescript. _ _ _ _ , "The Deep Gap Tie and Lumber Company," typescript. Wolfe, Tom, "The Last American Hero," The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine Flake Streamline Baby (New York, 1963). Wolfe, Thomas You Can't Go Home Again (New York, 1934). _ _ _ _ , The Hills Beyond (New York, 1941). Woodward, Van, Origins of the New South (Baton Rouge, 1951). Yates, Bowling C., "Culture Study of the Pink Beds, Cradle of Forestry in America," address to the Western North Carolina Historical Assn., Ouly 24, 1964). �INDEX Aaron Seminary, I 58 Abernethy, Rev., Laban, 91, 154 Abrams, Dr. Amos, 231 Alderman, Edwin A., I33, 166, 167, 171, I74, I79 Alexander's Inn, 39 Alexander, James Mitchell, 39 Alexander, Nancy, 220 Alexander Schools, I 57 Allanstand Industries, I 86, 226 Alleghany County, 3, 20, 48, 73, 92, 98, I 19, 136, I42, r66, 169,277,279,284,285,292, 333. 337. 344 Allen High School, I5I, I58-159 Allen Industrial Home, see Allen High School Allen, Maria, I 12 Allen, Wilson, 42, 44 Anderson, Dr. R. C., 162 Anderson, W.W., 245 Andrews, 266 Anesthesia, use of, ro6 Appalachian Regional Commission, 119 Appalachian Regional Development program, I 4 7 Appalachian School, 163, 164, 187 Appalachian State Normal School, see Appalachian State University Appalachian State University, 140, 145, 146, 147, I79-18J,2I8,220,277, 354,368 Appalachian Training School, see Appalachian State University Apple culture, 280-281 Arden, 84,87, 163, I93. I95. I98 Arthur, John Preston, 220 Asbury, Bishop Francis, 75, 77 Ashe County, 2, 3, 8, 20, 48, 73, 84, 93, 96, !04, 108, II], II9, 137. J40, 142, 177, 194, 220, 245, 253. 266, 269, 270, 272, 277. 279, 280,28~285,286,]]3, 342, 34~ 353 Asheville, 8, 10, 16, 34, 35, 36, 37, 58, 70, 83, 84, 85, 87, 88, 91, 92, 100, I06, IQ9, III, II5, IJ7, 1 I8, 126, 127, 141, 142, 143. '44. 148, 151, 158, 159, 167, 177, 181, I96, 198, 204,208-209, 2II, 214,220,222,225,239, 241,253,254,255,268,276,279, ]26, ]28, 366,378-388 Asheville-Biltmore College, see UNC at Asheville Asheville-Biltmore Technical Institute, 113 Asheville Farm School, I 59, 160 Asheville Female College, 37, 158 Asheville Male Academy, 57 Asheville Normal and Associated Schools, 159 Asheville Normal and Collegiate Institute, I59-I6I Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church, 87 Avery, Major Alphonso Calhoun, II, ]2, 33, 88, 91 Avery County, ], 20, 47, I IJ, I29, 137, IJ8, IJ9, I42, I48, 149, I 58, '93, 220, 229, 277, 279, 3JI, 332, 342, 344 Avery County High School, 139 Avery, Isaac, 28, 89 Avery, William Waighstill, 28, 32, 91 Aycock, Charles Brantley, 93, IJ2, IJ6, 179 Ayers, H.B. and W.W. Ashe, report, 297 Bader, William, 193 Bailey, Judge John L., 88, 91, 92 Bakersville, 44, 4 7, 90, 29 3 Ballads, 226-230 Balsam Mountains, 1, 7, 53 Banner Elk, 8, I39, I62 Baptist, 32, 37, 7I, 72-74 Baptist, Free Will, 37, 73, 87 Baptist, Missionary, 73 Baptist, Primitive, 73 Battery Park Hotel, 58, 259 Beaucatcher Mountain, 36 Beaver Creek, 85 Bechtlcr's Mint, 57 Beech Creek, I 9 5 Bell, Croydon and Thelma Harrington, 220 Bellevue, 32 Belvedere, 3 2 Ben Lippen, 87 Benners, I. N., 127 Berry, S.V., 85 Bethel Baptist Assn., 73 Biltmore, 187, 298-301, 302, 307 Biltmore Forest, 302, 306 Biltmore Junior College, see UNC at Asheville Biltmore Village, 8 5 Bingham, Major Harvey, 8, I4 Bird, Dean William Ernest, 52, 220 Blackburn, Edmund Spencer, 98 Black Mountain, 37, 87, I69, 298 Black Mountain College, I I 5 Black Mountain Range, I, 40, 4I Blake, Fanny, 83 Blalock, Keith, 8 Bledsoe, George, 222 Blount, John Gray, 4 Blowing Rock, 10, 85, 1 ro, 179, 197, 326, 3JI, 373. 375 Blowing Rock Assembly, 87 Blowing Rock-Lenoir Turnpike, 372 Blue Ridge Assembly, 87 Blue Ridge Hearthside Crafts Assn., I93, I94 Blue Ridge Parkway, II9, 337-340, 389 Blythe, Legette, 221 Board of Health, State, I04, I06, 107, II6 Board of Water and Air Resources, I I 5 Bonclarken, 87 Boner, John Henry, 2I8 "Boom and Bust," Asheville, 386-388 Boon, Samuel, McDaniel, and Thomas, 42 Boone,47-48, 167,195,267,277,367-368 Bostian, L. E., 82 Bowie, Thomas C. (Tam), 93, 333 Bowman, Jacob M., 45 Brasstown, 198 Brevard, 51, 83, 84, 155, 158,262,263,326, 328, 363-365, 377-378 Brevard College, 154, 158 Brevard Epworth School, see Brevard College Brevard Institute, see Brevard College Briar Creek Baptist Assn., 74 Brinegar Cabin, I88, 39I, 392 430 �Index / 431 Brittain's Cave, 186 Broad River, 57 Brooker, W. L., I4I Brooks, E.C., 2I8 Brooks, Dr. J. E., I IO-I r 1 Broughton Hospital, 103, I I4 Brown, Davis P., I<)8 Brown, E.D., 82 Brown, Frank C., 229 Brown, James, I4 Brown, Lawrence, 100-101 Brown Mountain Lights, 245 Brown, 0. Lester, 220 Brown Seminary, 158 Brown, Brigadier General Simeon, 9 Broyhill, James T., 94,99 Brushy Mountain Baptist Assn., 74 Bryan, T. Conn, 22I Bryan's Hotel, 47 Bryson City, 57, 130, 218 Buck Hotel, 3 5 Buell, Hillhouse, 84 Buncombe County, 2, 4, 14, 20, 28, 36, 37, 73, 77, 78, 79, 80, 89, 98, IOO, IOI, I09, IIJ, II7, 126, 129, I36, I40, I43, I44, I47, I62, I63, 182, I85, I97, 220, 232, 254, 276, 277, 279,280,283,284,286,292,304, 3I4, 329, 334.342,343.344.365-366 Buncombe County Health Department, 115 Buncombe Hotel, 3 5 Buncombe Turnpike, 39 Burchett, George, 266 Burger Mountain, 87 Burke County, 4, II, 16, I8, 20, 25, 30, J2, 33, 77, 84, 90, 91, 98, 113, 142, 144, 153, 177,220,268,273,276,279,287, JI4, 33I, 342,343.344 Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 307 Burnett, Fred M., 62, 29R Burnsville, Hi, 40, 42, 90, 157, 185 Burt, Lucy, 164 Buxton, Jarvis, 84, 8 5 Bynum, John Gray, 32 Bynum, J.S., 32 Caesar's Head, 90 Cain, William, 324, 326 Cairns, John, Jr., 207 Caldwell County, 3, q., I8, 20, 45, 88, 93, II3, I35, 136, 142, 153, 163,220,272,279, 342, 344. 346 Caldwell Community College, II3 Caldwell, Tod R., I6, 90 Calfee, John E., I 59 Calloway, Elijah, 93 Calloway, James, 93 Camp, Cordelia, 221 Campbell, John C., 68,213 Campbell, Olive Dame, 192, 213, 225, 226, 227 Campbell, Robert F., 8o;8I Camp Meetings, 77 Camps, summer, 405 Candler, Coke, 100 Cannon, Dr. Gainc, 104 Canton, II6, 118, 119,252, 26I, 266,308 Carolina Power and Light Co., 355 Carroll, Ruth and Latrobe, 230 Carson House, 34, 4IO, 4II Carson, Col. John, 28 Carson, Col. Joseph McDowell, 58 Carson, Samuel P., 28 Carter, H. B., 36 Carter, Sol W., hotel, 40, 42 Cashiers, 377 Catalooche, 90, 266 Catawba River, 90, 268 Cathcart, William, 4 Cathey, Mrs. George, 189 Catholic churches, 37, 85, 87 Cattle, 284-286 Civilian Conservation Corps, 338, 339 Cecil, Mrs. John F. A., 301 Central Bank and Trust Co., 142 Champion Paper and Fibre Co., rr6, 119, 308-3 IO Chappell, Fred, 214 Charleston, see Bryson City Chase, Richard, 195-196, 220, 244 Chatham Manufacturing Co., 94 Chatham, Richard Thurmond, 94 Chatuge Lake, 3 19 Chautauqua, teachers', I68-r69 Cheoah Range, 1 Cherokee, town of, 53, 340 Cherokee County, 3, 15, 20, 56, 74, So, 90, 96, II3, 127, 136, 142, I5I, I82, 220, 276, 279, 286, 342, 344 Cherokee Historical Association and related activities, 408 Cherokee Indians, 4, 21, 22, 53, 57, 89-90, 144-145. 175.209, 340, 370 Chestnut trees, 270-271 Chimney Rock, 57, 337 Christmont, 87 Christ School, 84, I63 Church of God, 87 Church, Harrison, 8 Cilley, Col. Clinton A., 89 Civil War, 6-I2 Classes, social, 6, 70 Claxton, Philander P., 167, 168 Clay County, 3, I 5, 20, 54, 56, 77, So, I04, 129, 137. I42, I5I, I 58, 173, 177. I78, 279. 280, 286, 319, 342, 344. 348 Clay, Harry, 101 Clement, Miss Exum, 334 Clinchfield Railroad, 264-265 Clingman, Thomas Lanier, 35, 90 Clingman's Dome, I Cloudland Hotel, 45, 47, 254, 263 Cloyd, Uriah, I53 Clyde, II8 College of the City of Asheville, see UNC at Asheville Columbus, 58, 138 Colvard, Dean W., 286 Cone Mansion, 39I Cone, Moses H., I79 Connor, R.D.W., 5 Conservation and Development, Dept. of, I I 8 Conservation, state agencies, 188 Conservative Party, see Democratic Party Constitutional Convention of I 868, 123 Cooper, Horton, 220, 221 Cooperatives, 280-281, 283 Corn production, 287-288 Cotton manufacturing, 355-361 �432 / Index Counties, formation of, 2-3 Court week, 27-28 Cowee Mountains, r, 53 Cowles, Arthur, 349 Cowles, Calvin Josiah, 349, 351 Cowles, Charles Holden, 98 Coxe, Frank, 58 Crab Tree Orphan's Home, SI Cradle of Forestry, 3 r 5 Craig, Gov. Locke, 92, 93, 132, r8r, 329 Craigmont, S7 Cranberry, 47, rS5, 246, 263, 265, 267, 351, 352 Credle, Ellis, 2 r 9 Crest of the Blue Ridge Highway, 328-329 Crossnore School, I3S, I92, 195, 221 Cullowhee, 174, I75, 176, 178, 179, r8o, r8r Curry,]. L. M., 128, 171 Cushman, Rebecca, 215, 297 Dargan, Olive Tilford, 216, 247 Davenport College, 76, 153-154 Davenport, William, I53 Davidson, Allen Turner, 90, 92 Davidson County (now Tennessee), 2 Davidson, Theodore F., 91, 92 Davis, E. Mac, 8 I Davis, Rebecca Harding, 37, 208-210 Deaf, School for the, 96, I 3 I, I 32 Deer Preserve, Pisgah National Forest, 3 I 6 Democratic Party, IS, I6, 30, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, roo, 123, 132, 333 Dillsboro, I97, 336, 353 Diphtheria, I05 Disciples of Christ, 37, 87 Distillers, illicit, IS, 272-275 Dixon, George F., I2I Dobson, 10 Doctors' fees, r 04 Dorland- Bell School, I 59, r6o Dougherty, Blanford B., 140, r 79, r So, r 8 r, 277 Dougherty, Dauphin Disco, I79, ISr, 333 Doughton Park, 391-392 Daughton, Robert, 92, 277, 337 Doughton, Rufus, 92, 333, 335 Douglas, Clementine, rS9-192 Dramas, outdoor, 390, 406, 409 Ducktown Branch of the Western North Carolina Railroad, I 69 Dugger, Shepherd, 2I 1 Duke Power Co., 355 Dula, Tom, 70, 22S-229 DuPont Co., 364-365 Dyes, for cloth, 66 Dykeman, Wilma (Stokeley), 2I3-2I4 Eagle Hotel, 3 5 Eagle Mills School, I 5 S East La Porte, 53 East La Porte Male and Female Academy, 152 Ecusta Paper Corporation, I IS Edgewood Academy, IJI Eggers, S.C., 277 Ehle, John, 148, 2I4, 268 Electrification, rural, 287-2S9 Elias, Don, IOO-IOI Elias, Kope, 51, 56,91-92, 175 Elkin, 49, 94 Elkin Baptist Association, 74 Ellis, Dan, S Enka Corporation, 92, 364-366 Episcopal Church, II, 32, 37, S2-S5, S7 Equalization Board, 142 Equalizing Fund, IJI, I39, I40 Ervin, Joseph William, 98 Ervin, Samuel James, Jr., 98 Erwin, Alfred, 32 Erwin, Major E. A. M., 34 Erwin, W.C., 30 Etowah Institute, I 5S Evangelical activity, 69, 7I Evangelical and Reformed Church, 87 Fairfield Lake, pS Fairview College, I 58 Family life, mountain, 62 Fancy Gap, I Farmer, Col. H. T., 35 Farmers' Alliance, 95, 96, 97, 173, 175 Feldspar, 352-353 Fiddlers' conventions, 224-225 Fields-of-the-wood, 87 Fishback, Col. John, r 94 Fisher's River Baptist Assn., 73 Fiske, John, 5 Flat Rock, 35, 83, 87, 2IS, 220, 254 Fleming, Sam, 28 Fletcher, Arthur L., 220 Flowers, Col. C. W., I4 Folk, Col. George, 47, 8S, 91 Fontana, 288 Ford Foundation, II2 Fort Hamby, I2-I4 Fourteenth North Carolina Battalion, "One-Eyed Battalion," 8 Frances, Michael, 90 Franklin, 53, 56, 57, 92, I29, 167, 173, 175, 3 I 5, 336 Franklin Family, 33 Freel, Margaret, 7 4, 220 French Broad Baptist Assn., 73, 74 Fruitland Institute, 157 Fullwood, William, 19 Fusion Period, 94, 97 Furniture Industry, 36I-363 Gaither, Col. Burgess S., 32, 33, 90 Gault, Lynn, I9S General Education Board, 133 Gillem, Brigadier General Alvan C., 9, II, 12 Glade Valley School, I6r Glen Alpine, 33 Glen Alpine Academy, 153 Globe Academy, 153 Goodrich, Frances, I86-187 Good Roads Associations, 324 Goodwin Guild Weavers, 192-193 Goodwin, John 0., 190-191 Gordon, Charles, 4 Graham, Dr. Thomas Alexander, r68 Graham County, 3, 20, 22, 56, 57, So, I04, 136, 142, 144, 172, 17S, 279, 2SS, 322, 342, 344 Granite Falls, 135, 245 Granny women, 66, 103, 105 Great Smokes, see Smokies Grandfather Home, 162 �Index / 433 Grandfather Mountain, I, 393, 397 Grange, 95, 280 Gray, Idyl Dial, 2II Great Smoky Mountains National Park, II9, 212,270,337.397-403 Green, Rev. J. B., 14 Green, Lewis W., 222 Green River Plantation, 58, I I I Greene County (now Tennessee), 2 Greer, Dr. I. G., 231 Gudger, Hezekiah A., 91 Gudger, Jack, 5I Gudger,J. H., 35 Gudger, James M., 32, 33, 36, 42,91 Guy, Jack, 195 Gwin, James, 10, I 1 Gwinville Mills, 356 Hall, Dave, ror Hamilton, Harry, 277 Hamilton,]. G. deR., 17 Hampton, Wade, 53 Hancock, Mary, 220 Hankie, James Stuart, 83 Hannum, Alberta Pierson, 22 Happy Valley, 88 Harper, Ella, 20 Harper, G. W. F., 348 Harper, James, I 53 Harper, James C., 93, I 53 Harris Clay Company, 353-354 Hartley, Joe Lee, 326 Hawkins County (now Tennessee), 2 Hayes, J. F., 262-263 Hayes,JudgeJohnsonJ., 72, 74,220 Hayesville, 54, 56, 86, 92, 129, 138, 151, 173, 348 Hayesville College, I 58 Haynes, Thurmond, 277 Haywood Agricultural Society, 52 Haywood County, 2, 20, 40, 52, 75, So, 92, 113, II8, 126, 127, 136, 142, 143, 157, 158, 178, r82,220,252,269,277,279,284,285, z86,J04,JI4,326,J42, 343,344,346-347, J66,J67 Haywood Institute, 157 Haywood White Sulphur Springs, 51, 52, 169, 261 Helper, Hinton R., 346 Henderson and Brevard Railway, 262 Henderson County, 2, 20, 34, So, 96, IIJ, 142, I77,220,229,279,28I,28J,284,286,J04, J29,JJI,J42,J44, 365-366 Hendersonville, 8, 35, 74, 84, 87, ro6, 137, 143. I 56, 177. 262, 281, 324. 326, 328 Hickerson, T. F., 220, 328 Hickory Nut Gap, 254 Hicks, John 0., 151 Hicksville High School, also Hicksville Academy, 151 Hicks, Rev. William, 158 Highlands, 53, 325, 328, 378 Hill-Burton Act, II2 Hinsley, Jay, IOI Higher Education, Board of, 145 High Hampton, 53 Hinton Rural Life Center, 86 Hiwassee, 225 Hiwassee Railroad, 266 Hobbs, S. H., 5 Hoey, Clyde, 98, r8o Hofecker, Glen, 193Holden, G. W. (Wash), 294 Holden, Gov. Wm. H., 15, r6 Holmes, J. A., 324, 326 Holshouser, Governor James, roo Holston Methodist Conference, 75, 76, 77 Hominy Academy, 37 Hominy Creek, 37, 92, II7 Hookworm disease, 107 Hookworm eradication campaign, 107-109 Hoppeldt, Dr. J. M., 32 Horse Trading, 68 Hospitals, establishment of, I09-II5, 139, 154, r62 Horton, Nathan, 272 Horton, William, 272 Hot Springs, 40, 83, II 8, I 6o, 226, 260 388-389 Hughson, Rev. Walter, II2 Hunt, Richard Morris, 299 Hunter, Kermit, 219 Hunting, 42-44, 51, 62, 64 Jackson County, 3, 20, 52, 53, 75, So, 92, 104, IIJ, 136, 142, 143, 144, 173, 174, 177, !78, 263,279.342,344.353.368 Jackson, George Pullen, 231-232 Jacocks, Dr. W. P., 107 James, William, 59 Jarvis, Governor Thomas Jordan, 126, 251, 258 Jefferson, 48, 49, 85, 93, 98, 266 Job., A., 293 John C. Campbell Folk School, 164, 192, 165 Johnson, Thomas G., 36 John's River, 89 Johnstone, F. W., 83 Jolley, Harley, 221, 337 Jones, Edmund, 91 Jones, E. W., 153 Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest, 320-pr, 322 Joyner,]. Y., 133, 135, 136, 171 Judaculla Rock, 53, 55 Judson College, 74. I 56- I 57 Justice, G. W., 350 Justice, James Dyer, 3 50 Kanuga Lake, Episcopal Assembly, 87 Kaolin, 353-354 Keener, Ulrich, 75 Kelsey, S. T., 325, 326 Kephart, Horace, 2II-2I4 King, Edward, 59 King, Hiram, 295-296 Kirby, Col. Isaac M., ro Kirk, Col. George, 9, 16, 30, 91 Kirk-Holden War, r6 Knight, Edgar W., 137 Ku Klux Klan, 15, r6, 17, 275 Lake Junaluska, 86, r r8, 143 Lake Sapphire, 328 Lake Toxaway, 263, 328 Land Law of 1777, 4 Language, mountain, 68 Lanier, Sydney, 2I0-2II Lankford, B. D., 51 �434 / Index Laurel Fork, 129 Laurel Hill, r 29 Laurel Springs, 92 Lawyers, ror -102 Lees-McRae College, r62 Lees, Mrs. S. P., 162 Leicester Academy, 37 Lenoir, IO, II, 76, 88, 89, 93, 94, 107, 113, 153.158,199.267,276,293.331 Lenoir Rhyne College, II3 Lenoir, W. A., 153 Lenoir, William, 272, 273 Lenski, Lois, 2 I 9 Lewis Fork Creek, I 3 Linney, Frank, 333 Linney, James Polk, 14 Linney, Romulus, 222 Linney, Romulus Z., 89 Linville, 326, 33 I, 373 Linville Falls, 33, 328 Linville Gorge, 33, 34, 319 Literary Fund, 123 Literary Fund, new, 134 Littlefield, Milton, 16, 256 Little Switzerland, 87 Little Tennessee River, 57 Littlewood, Mrs. John, 194 Log cabin, building of, 59, 61 Lomax, Alan, 23 I Love's Trading Post, 53 Lovette's Holly Farms Poultry Co., 287 Lovill, Captain Edward F., 179, 277 Lunsford, Bascom Lamar, 231,240, 242, 244 Luther, Raymond, 266 Lutheran Church, 85 Lutheridge, 87 Lynn, 210 McBee, John C., 335 McBrayer, Judge Fred, 350 McBrayer, Dr. Lewis Burgin, I ro McCarthy, W.C., 154 McCoy, George, r62 McDowell County, 2, 3, r6, r8, 20, 33, 98, 113,140,299,330,331,342,343,344 McGhinnis, B.L., 293 Mciver, Charles Duncan, 133, 166, 167, J7I, 174. 179 McLeod, John, 220 McLoud, C.M., 36 McRae, Donald and Hugh, 326 McRae, Elizabeth, r62 Madison County, 2, 8, 14, 20, 51, 73, 74, 80, 8r, 91, 96, 98, 99, roo, 136, 142, 144, 172, 177,220,269,276,277,279.280,284,320, 330, 342, 344 Madison, Robert Lee, 173-180 Marion, 33, 34, 40, 70, 265, 267, 275, 326, 332 Marshall, 14, r6, 51, II8, 129, 193, 326 Mars Hill College, 74, 93, 113, 128, 156, 157 Mars Hill, town of, r88, I 57, 199, 220 Martin, General James G., 12, 85 Martin, Muriel, 192 Mast, Mrs. Finley, I 8 8 Mead Corporation, 368 Mead, Martha Norburn, 222 Measles, 106 Medical Society, State, 103, 104, 107 Medford, Clark, 220 Medford, Wid, 169 Medicinal herbs, 66, 105, 348-350 Meiggs and Freeman Line, 53 Men, mountain, 62-65 Mental Health, Department of, I I 3 Merriman, Augustus S., 14, 15, 90 Methodist church, 71, 75-78 Methodist circuits, 75, 76 Methodist districts, 75, 77, 86 Methodist Episcopal, African, 37 Methodist Episcopal (northern), 32, 37, 76 Methodist Episcopal, South, 32, 37, 76-78, 86 Methodist Episcopal Zion, 32, 37 Methodist Protestant, 32, 37, 75-76, 78 Mica, 352 Miller, Helen Topping, 222 Miller, Col. John K., 9 Miller, Robert Johnson, 84 Miller, William, 34 Mills, 6r, 63, 292, 293 Mills River, 51, 294 Mining, 351-354 Minton, T.O., 287 Missionary Baptist, 73 Mitchell County, 3, 8, 20, 44, 45, 73, 79, 80, 82, g6, 104, 127, 137. 142, 149. 177. 193. 269,279.331,332,342,344.352,353.354 Mitchell, Dr. Elisha, 44 Mitchell Institute, I 57 Montanic Institute, 37, 129 Montezuma, 158 Montlove, 83 Montreat, 8 5 -86 Montreat-Anderson College, 86, 162 Moody, B. H., 197 Moore, Charles Augustus, 92 Moore, Governor Daniel Killian, 92, 99, 101, 115, 343 Moore, Frederick, 92 Moore, Hight C., 218 Moore, Robert L., 156 Moore, Mr. and Mrs. Walter, 86 Moore, Walter E., 52, 92, 175 Moore, Col. William, 92 Moravian Falls, 93 Moravian Falls Academy, 153 Mordecai, Dr. Alfred, II o, I II Morgan, Lucy, 164, r88, 189, 221 Morgan, Dr. and Mrs. Ralph, 197 Morgan, Dr. Rufus, 164, 187, r88 Morganton, 7, II, 25, 30, 33, 76, 83, 84, 88, 89,90,98, 103,112,114,131,132,153, 20~ 245,253,255,275.32~ 331 Morganton Academy, 153 Morley, Margaret, 215-216, 270 Morris, B. T., 34 Morrison, Governor Cameron, 183, 333 Moser, Artus, 233, 241 Moser, Joan, 236 Moses, Edward P., 173-174, 178 Mount Airy, I, ro, 326, 367 Mount Mitchell, r, 40-41, 373-374, 375-377 Mountain Baptist Assn., 72-73 Munday, Alexander, 54 Murchison's Black Mountain land, 42 Murphy, 56, 87,90,92, 157,164,258,285 Murphy Branch of the W.N.C. Railroad, 261 Macon County, 2, 20, 53, 8o, II3, 135, 136, 142,167,177,178,198,269,279,284,286, �Index 3!4. 325. 336, 342, 344 Murphy Institute, r 57 N antahala Gorge, 56 Nantahala National Forest, 314, 3I5, 3I6 Nantahala Range, 1, 54 National Forests, 3 I0-3 I6 Neighborhood Youth Corps, I49-I50 Nelson, D. B., I75 New Echota, Treaty of, 2I New Found Mountains, I Newland, William, 179, 180 New River, 93 Newspapers, 32, 37. 47, 53, 1 I7, 129, 245, 346 Newton, George, 79 Noble, M. C. S., J7I, 179 Nolichucky River, 45, I I7, rr8 Normal Schools, I66 Norris, Dr. amd Mrs. Henry, I I I North Carolina Fund, I49 North Carolina Methodist Conference, 76 North Carolina State Board of Health, II5 North Wilkesboro, r 77, 266, 326, 333, 367 Nursing education, r 1 l - 1 r 3 Nyc, Stuart, I98 Oberlin Home and School, 158 Oconaluftee River, 2I, 90, I99 O'Henry (William Sydney Porter), 2rr Old Fort, 30, 34, 214, 253, 257, 331 Olin Mathieson, I68, 363-364 Olmsted, Frederick Law, 299, 302 "Omie Wise," ballad, 70 Ore Knob Copper Mine, 353 Osborne, H. 0., 285 Our Lady of the Hills, 87 Out-Migration, 366, 369 Owens, Amos, 275 Pace, C. M., 34 Page, Frank, 336 Palmer, Col. William J., 9, I I Parris, John, 2I5 Patterson, town of, 90 Patterson Mill, I o Patterson, Rufus Lenoir, 88 Patterson, Samuel, 163 Patterson School, I63 Patton, Robert Logan, I 52- I 53 Patton, Sadie Smathers, 220 Peabody Fund, 128-129, I66, 167, r68 Peabody, George, 12~ Peabody Schools, 128- I 29 Pearson, Cam, 32 Pearson, James Larkin, 2I6-2I7 Pearson, Judge Richmond, 88, 9I, 298 Pearson, Richmond, son of the judge, 98-99, 298 Pease, Mr. and Mrs. Louis M., 158-159 Pell, Rev. R. P., So, 82 Penland, I63 Penland House, 45 Penland Pottery, r 98 Penland School, 164, I89, I92, 194, I97, 221 Phifer, Dr. Edw. M., rS-19, rr2, 220 Phillips, Aunt Susan, I87 Pigeon River, II7, II8, I29, 255 Pilot Mountain, 49 Pinchot, Gifford, 302-304 f 435 Pineola, 26 5 Pink Beds, 294 Pisgah, I29 Pisgah Forest, 262, 304 Pisgah Forest Pottery, I98 Pisgah National Forest, 3I4, 315, 3I7 Pisgah Range, I Plemmons, Levi, 36 Plumtree, I 39 Polk County, 3, 16, r8, 20, 33, 57, 58, 96, 136, !38, I42, !68, 26!,269,270,273,277. 279. 28I, 331, 342, 344 Poole, Maria, 22 I Populist Party (People's Party), 94, 96, 97, 132 Poultry and eggs, 286-287 Powell, William S., 22I Power, electric, 3 54-355 Power plants, municipal, 3 54-3 55 Presbyterian church, 32, 37, 7I, 78-82 Presbyterian, U.S., 79 Presbyterian, U.S.A., 37 Presbyteries, 79, So Presnell, Ed., I97 Price, Overton, 305, 306, 3 ro Pritchard, Jeter C., 91, 98, 99 Pritchard, Richard M., 99 Proffitt, Frank, 197, 223, 224, 23 I Purdom, Ed., I97 Quaker Meadows, I9, 32 Qualla Boundary, 2 I, 57 Qualla Reservation, 22 Quilting, 66 Radical, sec Republican Ravenscroft, Bishop John Stark, 83, 84 Ravenscroft School, 84-8 5 Ray, G. D., 40 Read, Opie Percival, 22 r Reagan House, 39 Reagan, Dr. James A., I09, I54 Reconstruction, I 7, 30, 90, 94, 95 Reed, J. H., 36 Reem's Creek, 259, 355 Reid, Christian (Frances Fisher Tiernan), 2II, 2I2 Republican Party, IS, I6, 90, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, IOO, IOI, 123, I32, 333 Reynolds, Robert Rice, 98 Richland Institute, I 58 Richmond Hill Law School, 88 Riddle, Dr. J. B., I 12 Riddle, Dr.]. Iverson, I I 3 Ridgecrest, 86, 253, 267, 33I Roan Mountain, r, 45, 47, 129, 320 Robbins Brothers, Carolina Caribbean Corp. 368 Robbinsville, 56, 57, 8I, 90, I72, I73. 316 Robertson, Reuben, 308 Rockefeller, John D., Jr., I33 Rockefeller Sanitary Commission, ID7 Rogers, David, 178 Rutherford College, 91, 154 Rutherford County, 2, r6, 17, r8, 2I, 33, 57, 98, III, II3, I27, I42, I5I, I6I, 263,264, 269, 270, 279, 281, 286, 287, )29, 330, 33 I, 342,344 Round Hill Academy, 157 Round Knob, I69, 170 �436 / Index Rutherford, Griffith, 4 Rutherfordton, r, 2I, 57, 76, 84, r II, 254, 263, 265, 275. 326 Saluda, 261 Saluda Gap, 8, 3 5, 57 Sanford, Governor Terry, 145, 149 Sanitation Committee, State, II7 Scarlet fever, ro6 Schreiber, Virginia Bryan, 148 Schenck, Carl A., 274, 304-309 Schenck, Judge David, 22, 30-57 passim School of Forestry, 306-308 Scott, Governor Kerr Scott, 143, 341 Scroggs, Fred 0., 348 Sears, Dr. Barnas, 128 Sebartle, Patty, I48 Second Broad River, 57 Sevier, John, 4 Sharp, Cecil, 21, I65, 225, 226, 227, 232 Sharpe, Bill, 22 r Sharpe, Wallace, 14 Sharpe, Col. Wash., I4 Shotwell, Randolph A., 17, 37, 273, 294 Shuford, Abel A., 87 Sieber, Henry Alexander, 218 Silva Institute, r 57 Silvers, Frankie, 22S Silverstein, Joseph H., 262 Ski resorts, 393-394 Skiles, William West Slagle, Thomas, 54 Sleds, 293, 295 Sloan, J.B., 3 54 Sloop, Dr. Eustice H., 109, r 39 Sloop, Dr. Mary Martin, 109, 139, 200, 220, 333 Smallpox, ro6 Smather's Inn, 39, 5 r Smathers, John C., 39 Smiley,]. E., 129,130 Smith, R. P., 66, So Smokies, Great, 53 Snowbird Mountains, 90 Snyder Memorial Academy, Sr Social and Residential Communities, 403-404, 412 Sondley, Foster, 220 South Carolina Methodist Conference, 76 Southern Education Board, 133 Southern Highland Handicraft Guild, 190, 192 Sossamon, Leroy, 2rS South Hominy, 129 South Mountains, 21, 33, 57, 113 Spainhour, Noah, 293 Sparta, 4S, 92, r6r, r67, r6S Speculation, land, 350-351 Speculation Land Company, 57 Spruce Pine, 191, 264, 267 Stacy, Rev. A. G., 153 Stearns Schools, r 3S Stekoa, 53 Stephen, W. B., 198 Stephens, George, S7, 301 Stikeleather, J.D., 33 5 Stone, Mr. and Mrs. George, r S9 Stoneman, Major General George, S-12, S3, I 53 Stone Mountain Baptist Association, 74 Stone Mountain Pottery, r9S Stony Fork Baptist Association, 74 Strange, Robert, 207 Stream Sanitation Committee, State, rr 6 Street, Julia Montgomery, 22I Strike at the Baldwin Mill, 35S-359 Stringfield, Major W. W., 52 Stroup, H. M., 197 Sullivan County (now Tennessee), 2 Sumner County (now Tennessee), 2 Surry County, 2, 20, 4S, 72, 73, 76, 109, 136, 142,269,273,276,279,284,286,342,344 Sutton, Mrs. Orus, 19S Surles,]. B., I93 Swain County, 3, 20, 57, 75, So, 104, II3, I30, I42,279,2S4, 3I4,342, 344 Swain, Governor David Lowry, 89 Swannanoa, r6o, 286 Swannanoa Gap, 7, S6, 257 Swan Ponds, 32 Swepson, George, r6, 256 Sylva, 53, 157, 174, 326, 353, 36S Table Rock Academy, 153 Taliaferro, Hardin E., 207-20S Tallassee Power Co., 3 55 Tanning,262,266,293-294 Tait, S. C. W., 32 Tate, Robert, 4 Tate, Dr. W. C., r62 Tate, Samuel McDowell, 256 Tate, William, 4 Taylor, Rev. Fitch, 155 Taylor, Roy A., roo Teacher qualifications, 177 Teacher salaries, 135, 136 Technical institutes, 145 Tenella (Mrs. Bayard Clark), 218 Tennessee County (now Tennessee), 2 Thermal Belt, 2So Thomas, Col. William Holland, his legion of Indians and Highlanders, 7, 12 Thomas Col. William Holland, 21, 57, S9-90 Thomasson, Lillian, 129, 220 Thomson, Peter G., 30S Tobacco, 51, 276-2So Todd, 246, 266 Toe River (Estatoe), 44, r 17 Toms, Captain]. M., 34 Tourism, 371-397 Toynbee, Arnold, IS Transylvania County, 3, 20, 51, 75, 77, So, 83, 104, 113, J42, I 55, 178, 279, 287, 304, 314,342,344.363-365.366-367 Trap Hill, r58 Travel expenditures, 412-413 Truett, George, I 5 I, I 52 Tryon, I89,2II,220,26I,405 Tryon County, 2, 20 Tuberculosis, 105, r ro Tuckaseigee River, 53, 71 Tucker, Glenn, 220, Tucker, James M., S6 Tucker River, II7 Tufts, Edgar, S2, r 39, r 52 Tufts, Edgar Hall, r62 Turkey Creek Camp Ground at Leicester, 77 Tuscola High School, 143 Tuscola Institute, r 5S �Index / 437 Tusquitee Creek, 54 Tusquitee Range, I TVA, 287-289, 355 Typhoid, 104 Unakas, I Unicoi Mountains, 1 Union Grove Fiddlers' Convention, 225, 239, 240 Union League, 15 United Methodist Church, 78, 86 University of North Carolina at Asheville, II5, 147-148 Valdese, 245, 359-361 Valle Crucis, 83-84, 85, 90, 187 Valle Crucis School, 163 Valley River, 56 Valley Town, 90 Vance, Eleanor P., 187, 189 Vance, Dr. Robert B., 28 Vance, General R. B., IO Vance, Zebulon Baird, 30, 70, 90, 95, 98, 126, 205-2o6,z58,273,298 Vance, Zebulon B., birthplace, 410-41 I Vanderbilt, George Washington, 85, 298-307, 310 Vanderbilt, Mrs. George Washington, 187, 301 Van Noppen, Ina Woesterncyer, 221 Wages in industry, average, 366-367 Wainwright, Mary Taylor, 84 Wainwright, Rev. Richard, 84 Walker, Elmeda, I93 Walser, Richard, 218 W AMY, 149, 193 Warm Springs, see Hot Springs Warner, Charles Dudley, 27, 47, 152 Warren Wilson College, I 6o Washburn, Dr. Benjamin, 21, 105 Washburn, R. C., 56 Washington County, 2 Washington, Lawrence D., 130 Watauga Academy, see Appalachian State University Watauga County, 3, 7, 8, I 1, 14, 20, 45, 47, 48, 77, 79, So, 82, 84, 85, 89, II3, 121, 136, 140, 142, 149, 152, 167, '77, 179, 193, 229, 246,266,269,270,276,277.279,280,286, 287, 3}2, 333, 342, 344 Watson, Arthel L. ("Doc"), 23 I Watts, George R., 221 Waynesville, 51, 52, 54,106, II8, 129, 169, 173, 261,285, 317, p6, }38, 345. 354 Weatherford, Dr. Willis, 2 I 3-214 Weaver College, 37, 109, 154-155 Weaver, Dr. H. B., 109 Weaver, Dr.J. B., 293 Weaver, William Trotter, 354 W caverville, 40, 222, 345 Weaverville College, see Weaver College Weaving, 66-67 Webster, 52, 92, IOI, 129, I73, 174, 334 Weir, Weldon, 100, ror West, John Foster, 247 Western Baptist Association, 74 Western Carolina Center, I 13, II4, 13 I Western Carolina University, 145, 146, 147, 173-180, 183, 354, 368 Western Insane Asylum, sec Broughton Hospital Western North Carolina Associated Communities, 406-407 Western North Carolina Conference (Methodist), 78 Western North Carolina Correctional Center, r 14 Western North Carolina Land Company, 41 Western North Carolina Railroad, 16, 3o, 34, 51, 92, 126, 169, 174. 208, 214, 254. 255. 256, 258, 308 Western North Carolina Regional Planning Commission, IT 8 Western Union Academy, 151 West Jefferson, 252, 266, 284 West Liberty Baptist Association, 74 Westminster School, 161 Wetmore, Thomas C., 84 Whiteside Mountain, 53 White Sulphur Springs, Waynesville, see Haywood White Sulphur Springs Whittier, 53 Wiggins Family, 57 Wilcox Drug Company, 349-350 Wildacres, 87 Wiley, Calvin, 37, 121, 207 Wilkes Community College, II3 Wilkesboro, 7, ro, 48, 74, 84, 92, 93, 98, 266 Wilkes County, 3, 4, 8, 12, 14, 20, 48, 72, 74, 76, 93, 96, 130, 135, 142, 143, 153, I 58, l 77, ~20, 249. 266, 273. 279, 280, 286, 342, 344, 346 Williams, Deon Cratis Williams, 216, 23 r Williams, Jonathan, 34, 219 Wilson, Major James W., 33, 251, 258 Wilson, Dell, 222 Wilson, John McKarnie,Jr., 19 Wilson, "Big Tom," 42-+4 Winston, Dr. George P., I Ro Wiseman's View, 322 Wolfe, Thomas, 202-206 Wolfe, Tom, 249 Women, mountain, 65-67 Woodfin, Nicholas W., 8, 90 Woody, "Aunt Cumi," 187 Woody family, 197 Woolson, Constance Fenimore, 207 World Methodist Center, 86 Yadkin Baptist Association, 72 Yale, Charlotte, 187, 189 Yancey County, 2, 3, 8, 20, 41, 45, 73, 79, 104, 136, 137, 142, 144, 149, 193,269,279, 284,331, 3}2, 342,344.352 Yancey Institute, 157 Yellow Fever, 106 York, Brantley, 154 Yount, John 214 �The rhododendron of Southern Appalachia, like the mountain people, developed from hardy stock. Both have come to grips with thin topsoil as well as cold winters and warm summers. Man and plant are proudly independent and evergreen. Design by Sherry Waterworth Dept. of Art Appalachian State University �about the authors ina faye woestemeyer van noppen (1906-1980) and john james van noppen iii (1906-1975) were professors of History and English, respectively, at Appalachian State Teachers College from 1947 to 1972. Ina taught history and was one of the campus’ earliest female professors with a doctorate. The Van Noppens co-wrote Daniel Boone, Backwoodsman: The Green Woods Were His Portion (1966) and Western North Carolina Since the Civil War (1973). Ina won the 1962 Thomas Wolfe Award from the Western North Carolina Historical Association for her Stoneman’s Last Raid. In 1973, the couple also won the 1973 Thomas Wolfe Award. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Western North Carolina Since the Civil War Description An account of the resource <span>No region has undergone more dramatic changes in the last century than Western North Carolina. Published in 1973, </span><em>Western North Carolina Since the Civil War</em><span> takes a look at mountain people in Western North Carolina and their uniquely structured economic, political, social, and cultural systems. The Van Noppens specifically explore different qualities of the mountain people such as their institutions, traditions, customs, and arts and crafts. Beginning with a dark period of social and economic disintegration after the end of the Civil War, the study traces the mountain peoples' lives from isolation to economic booms all while maintaining their traditions and cultural heritage.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=16HEVXp_k47cq3Up21GTY8PP15OvDuDL_" target="_blank">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469638317/western-north-carolina-since-the-civil-war" target="_blank">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Van Noppen, Ina Woestemeyer Van Noppen, John J. Subject The topic of the resource North Carolina--History--1865- North Carolina, Western--History Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973 Language A language of the resource English Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant North Carolina Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1970s Civil War economics history Politics social issues WNC https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/6db25963b806590ba7a40c831700d5c0.pdf aac4e466a683b1eceabd1f69b351830e PDF Text Text �Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880 I have discovered a Country so delitious, pleasant, and fruitfully y* were it cultivated, doubtless it would prove a second Paradise (sic). —Henry Woodward, circa 1674 �This page intentionally left blank �Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880 Ora Blackmun A P P A L A C H I A N C O N S O R T I U M PRESS Boone, North Carolina 28607 �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program, Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1977 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-4136-2 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4138-6 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �Dedicated to George Myers Stephens A Founder of The Western North Carolina Historical Association The Cherokee Historical Association The Museum of the Cherokee Nation An Advisor to The Appalachian Consortium �This page intentionally left blank �T A B L E OF C O N T E N T S I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII Author's Preface Introduction by Gratis Williams Stagecoach Days at Sherrill's Inn The Land of Mountains Eden is Discovered Two Races Meet Along the Trading Paths Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll The Lull Between the Storms A New Flag for Western North Carolina East-West Tug-of-War In Search of Beauty—An Interlude With Their Goods and Chattels Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living Boundaries and Western Leadership Gold in the Hills and on the Highways Light and Shade in the Mountains The Crack of Doom in the Mountains More Government for Western North Carolina The Lure of the Mountains Whigs in the Mountains War in the Land War Comes to the Hills The Rebirth of a State Long is the Night Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains Chapter Notes Sources Index vn ix xiii xvi 1 25 43 56 73 88 106 125 139 152 166 189 207 222 241 261 284 306 328 343 356 364 380 400 437 452 �This page intentionally left blank �AUTHOR'S PREFACE years ago I stood atop a Western North Carolina mountain and looked down upon a boundless and impenetrable sea of motionless white mist. It was, I thought, not unlike the "great void upon the face of the deep." Suddenly, as if at command, a rushing wind swept over the ledge, and the sea of mist began a gentle, undulating motion. As on holy ground, I watched the growing force of the wind sweep the mist into titan waves of white that seemed writhing in the urgency of the first creation. Suddenly the gray of the sky was broken by a narrow rift and through it a shaft of light sped to touch the tossing sea below me and to open first one path and then others. From these paths arose the solid forms of earth as when the world was new. Before my eyes these forms were clothed with mountains, valleys, and streams, with woods and meadows, all freshly dewed as with Heaven's first rain. As I left the mountain in great humility of spirit, it came over me that in beauty and majesty these, the mountains of Western North Carolina, had been prepared for the habitation of man. What, I asked myself, had man done to them over the centuries and what had they done to and for the men and women, who for the short spans of their lives, called these mountains home? To arrive at the answers to my questions I began the absorbing task of research. The Sondley Reference Collection and the North Carolina Collection in the Pack Memorial Library in Asheville furnished a wealth of illuminating and relevant material. Over a period of some ten years, Miss Myra Champion, Miss Ida Padelford, and more recently, Miss Betty Betz, librarians at Pack Memorial Library, were generous in giving me both of their time and of their valuable assistance in securing for me additional material. Miss Elizabeth Shepard, �librarian at Warren Wilson College, furnished me with information concerning the excavation of Indian mounds on the campus of that college. To each of these librarians I wish to express my sincere thanks. Gradually the chain of events making up the shifting pattern of life in the hills became clear. What rny sources had revealed I then put into words and sentences and chapters. In the period of time covered (to 1880) that pattern of life was, in truth, a human drama of many scenes and acts performed by many changing characters on a stage arranged by nature itself. Its theme was the interplay of the best and the worst of man's thoughts and deeds, of the noble and the base and of all the gradations between. At its close in 1880 this drama was brightened by the assurance of a new dawn breaking over the ancient hills. For the publication of this volume I am indebted to George Myers Stephens, who called the attention of the members of the Appalachian Consortium Press to the manuscript. I am also grateful to Mr. Stephens for his encouragement of my efforts and for his share in the selection of the illustrations for the book and for his work on the maps. These maps also reflect the professional skill of Hermon H. Rector. It is hoped that they will prove helpful to readers of Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880. I sincerely thank F. A. Ketterson, Jr., chairman of the Publications Committee of the Consortium Press and editor for the book. Especially do I appreciate his advice and his locating for my use additional records of the period covered. I thank F. Borden Mace, executive director of the Appalachian Consortium Press, for his careful reading of the manuscript and his evaluation of the text. He has been tireless in his efforts to make the book attractive in appearance and worthy of the high standard set by the Consortium Press. The understanding, help and encouragement given me by both Mr. Mace and Mr. Ketterson have made my work of research and writing a pleasant experience for me. For the "Introduction" to this volume I am indebted to Dr. Gratis Williams, who graciously took the time from an already busy schedule to prepare a contribution that enhances the book and makes clear its purpose of portraying the events that make up the history of the mountain region prior to the coming of the railroad. He makes clear, too, that while this book is �complete in itself, it is at the same time a companion volume to Western North Carolina Since the Civil War by Drs. Ina and John Van Noppen. I deeply appreciate the time given and the helpful comments made by all who read sections of the manuscript. Especially do I thank Dr. Richard W. lobst of Western Carolina University; Dr. Evelyn Underwood of Mars Hill College; Mrs. Mary Ulmer Chiltoskey of Cherokee; Mrs. Virginia Million of Cherokee; and Paul Rockwell of Asheville. I feel a deep sense of gratitude toward those who early came into the mountain area and who left records in the forms of letters, diaries, travel sketches, and histories. Their firsthand accounts brought into vivid focus both the land and its people. Of those living in the mountains later I am indebted to all who wrote histories or sketches of their counties. From all of these sources I was able to understand not only the events that took place but also the issues and motives that prompted them. My hope is that this volume will make a small contribution to the knowledge of the history of this land of mountains I call home. Ora Blackmun Asheville, North Carolina Januaryf 1977 �This page intentionally left blank �INTRODUCTION people, whether of a nation or a region, in order to understand their customs and institutions must know how the present forms came to be. One way to gain this knowledge is through the study of history. The history of a region, like its customs and institutions, is constantly being added to; sources of information not available to earlier writers come to light; understandings of past events are seen from new points of view; and the interpretation of the meanings of past events changes. Thus there is a continuing need for historians to study and evaluate and interpret the history of their nation or their region. John Preston Arthur's History of Western North Carolina ended with 1913. Dr. Foster Alexander Sondley's Western North Carolina was published in 1930, but it treated mainly the early settlement of the French Broad River Valley. Thus the two most authoritative works dealing with the history of the mountain people of Western North Carolina were published well over a generation ago and one of them was somewhat narrow of scope. This Highland Region needed its history brought up to date. It needed treatment both broad and deep. The companion volume to this work, Western North Carolina Since the Civil War by Dr. Ina Woestermeyer Van Noppen and her husband, the late Dr. John J. Van Noppen, came out in 1973. The Van Noppen book was the end result of twenty years of effort by the Western North Carolina Historical Association, an effort that involved the labor and planning of Dean W. E. Bird of Western Carolina University, Dean Daniel J. Whitener of Appalachian State University, and George Myers Stephens of Asheville. Dean Whitener had planned to write a history of Western North Carolina after his retirement, but, before his untimely death, he had interested the Van Noppens �in undertaking the task. President William H. Plemmons at Appalachian State University worked out released faculty time for them and Weldon Williamson of Asheville and Dean Bird were successful in obtaining substantial contributions to an author expense fund for research and travel. When the fund was exhausted, the Van Noppens continued at their own expense to complete the work they had begun nearly ten years prior to its publication. While the Van Noppens were working on their book, Ora Blackmun arrived from Arkansas to make Asheville her home. Miss Blackmun had recently retired from the English faculty of the University of Central Arkansas. Sometime earlier she spent a year as a researcher for the State Historian of Minnesota, where her forebears had settled during Indian times. She grew up in the Ozark Mountains at Fayetteville, Arkansas, and she spent much time investigating the history of that region. Such a background led her naturally to explore the riches of the Sondley Reference Collection in the Pack Library. Her amazing energy and keen mind took her through much of this source material. She soon found herself writing a voluminous history of this mountain region from early geologic times "for my own satisfaction." By good fortune, George Myers Stephens, then chairman of the Western North Carolina Historical Association's committee to obtain a new history of the region, learned of Miss Blackmun's manuscript. The manuscript was brought to the attention of F. A. Ketterson, Jr., historian for the Blue Ridge Parkway and chairman of the Publications Committee of the Appalachian Consortium. The Board of Directors of the Consortium, after receiving reports of high praise for the authenticity and artistry of the work, quickly realized that Miss Blackmun's book was the ideal companion to the Van Noppen volume. Owners of both volumes will note a few years of overlap between the end of the Civil War and the coming of the railroad. Because the earlier and the later periods called for different treatments this overlap served history well. In the recent period life became so varied that such aspects as public education and folklore demanded that the history of several decades be treated in one chapter. By contrast, the earlier history is clearer for treatments in periods of time. What it meant for the Cherokees to live in an XIV �unspoiled land, for pioneers to live in a land of do-without— these are parts of good history writing. Above all was the meaning of a changed way of life after the railroads came to the mountains. With her gift for taking the long view of an era, Miss Blackmun's final chapter looks forward to what the railroads would do to change, life in these landlocked valleys. Landmarks of history are best used as points for charting the future. Ora Blackmun writes with her mind on the future as she did in her history of Asheville's First Presbyterian Church in A Spire in the Mountains: The Story of 176 Years of a Church and a Town Growing Together, 1794-1969, which was published in 1970. With the publication of Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880, the people of the Carolina Highlands have a history that will serve the present generation well and will be a guidepost to future generations of historians. Appalachian State University Boone, North Carolina Gratis Williams �Stagecoach Days at Sherrill's Inn J[ he pictures in this set are from wall paintings in the old Sherrill Inn at Hickory Nut Gap. They are the work of Mrs. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, an accomplished artist. After she and her husband, James G. K. McClure, purchased and then restored the hostelry, she began an extensive research of its background and of the history of the region. She was thus able to depict life as it ebbed and flowed about the popular inn during the first half of the nineteenth century. Mr. and Mrs. James McClure Clarke, present owners of the building and grounds, together with Dr. Reuben A. Holden, President of Warren Wilson College, and the French Broad River chapter of the Garden Club of America, made possible the color section reproducing these pictures for this volume. Mrs. Clarke is the daughter of Mrs. Elizabeth McClure. ���������C H A P T E R ONE The Land of Mountains Vv estern North Carolina is far more than the sum of the state's most westerly counties that make up its area. The Southern Appalachian Mountains extend in lofty and rambling fashion throughout its north-south length and reaching their greatest height, spread themselves in range after range throughout its eastwest width. They have set the pattern for all human activity taking place in North Carolina's valleys and on its mountain slopes. Geographically, Western North Carolina differs sharply from the piedmont section of the state to the east and even more sharply from the sand hill and low coastal area that stretches to the Atlantic Ocean. Both geographically and culturally it has been indeed a region set apart, expressing itself in ways peculiarly its own. From the time a band of wandering, primitive people reached its boundary to the present day, this land of mountains and valleys has been many things to many people. To these first inhabitants it was doubtless a land of refuge from their ever-pursuing enemies. To the Cherokees it has been for many centuries a beloved homeland, worth defending against other Indian invaders and against the constantly encroaching white man. To the adventurous Englishmen it was a challenge, a fair land to be won and occupied. To the botanist it has been a veritable Garden of Eden, offering a wealth of vegetation beyond his fondest dreams. The geologist has found it an open book from which to read the story �•j//\r m ^li-IJ IIPJ l l^°M &«*T- m WJ<?|S<I /M foMJM ��4 / Chapter One t. , '. 1 1 CARL McINTOSH PHOTO The exposed rocks of Grandfather Mountain in Avery County give evidence that this is undoubtedly the world's oldest mountain. of nature 's gargantuan upheavals since the world was young. To the historian it has been the tale of the struggle of men and mountains, the slow and costly experiment of building a way of life suited to the ruggedness that isolates one community from another. And to the engineer it has been the stimulus to prodigious efforts in transportation— the spanning of broad rivers and the tunneling through mountain barriers, the removal of hills and the filling of gorges. To the industrialist it has been a region of forests and raw material, a land of pure water and abundant man power; and for the mineralogist it has been an area of delight, rich in treasures of mica and feldspar, of pliable clays, of copper and talc, of precious and semi-precious stones. To the hunter and angler it has been a paradise of undergrowth and streams, where deer and bear still follow the ancient water trails and where the clear, cold water, foaming over rocky beds, still yields the finest of nature's game fish. To the vacationist it has meant relaxation in invigorating air and sunshine, often restored health and vitality, and always the beauty and inspiration of cloud-tipped mountains against a blue sky and of broad, green-clad valleys rimmed in by the hills. To the �The Land of Mountains / 5 APPLACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Rivers, some older than the mountains themselves, have played a role in determining the contour of this land of mountains. Cutting ravines and deepening them into gorges and chasms, the busy rivers have worn down boulders and continue to nibble at the rocks in their beds, artist it has been a land of cascading waterfalls, of "balds" crowned with the exotic blooms of rhododendron, of range after range fading into a distant blue that defies any brush to capture. And to those who live here by right of pioneer ancestry and to those who have chosen it for their abiding place it is Home, with all of the sacredness that the word implies. The mountains that dominate Western North Carolina are a part of the great Alleghany chain that stretches from Georgia northeastward through Maine and into eastern Canada, finally hurling themselves into the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of the Gaspe Peninsula. In this great chain the ranges from Virginia to Georgia are known as the Appalachians or Southern Highlands. In Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee these massive Highlands achieve their greatest width, varying from about a hundred miles to a hundred and twenty-five, and here they rear their loftiest peaks. Mt. Mitchell, at 6,684 feet, lifts its head above them all, but within the boundaries of North Carolina forty-three �6 / Chapter One >** E. DOUGLAS DE PEW PHOTO The land of mountains is also the land of waterfalls. Whitewater Falls send their spray down the steep mountainside near Sapphire. �The Land of Mountains / 1 mountains have an altitude of more than 6,000 feet and eighty-two others surpass 5,000 feet. v Hundreds of lesser peaks rise more than 4,000 feet above sea levelv. In the Tennessee section of the Great Smokies many additional mountains belong in one of these altitude ranges. The Blue Ridge Mountain range, a long granite formation which rises abruptly from the Piedmont Plateau in Virginia and terminates in Georgia, marks the eastern boundary of the entire Southern Highlands area. Early unknown English explorers gave these mountains their appropriate name, for a nebulous blue haze surrounds them, deepening late in the day to the soft, dark blue of the night. In addition to their castle-like contours, their everchanging blue overtones have made them justly extolled in story and song. The western rim of the Southern Highlands is more broken and is formed by the Unaka, the Stone, and the Unicoi ranges. These also form the boundary between Tennessee and North Carolina. It is the Unaka range that rises in the majesty of the Great Smoky Mountains, so named from the grey-blue haze that often surrounds their summits. In order for readers to visualize this lofty section, writers have repeatedly likened the ranges to a gigantic ladder, with the Blue Ridge as its eastern support and the roughly paralleling Unaka, Stone, and Unicoi ranges as its western support. In the intervening plateau, cross ranges serve as rungs of the ladder. The Balsams, the Snowbird Mountains, the Nantahala Range, the Co wee—all lofty in their own right—are some of these cross bars. Out from both the supports and the rungs shorter mountain spurs extend. The most famous of these is the Black Mountain range in which Mt. Mitchell is the highest of twelve peaks above 6,000 feet above sea level.2 Between the cross ranges are valleys of varying length and width, each with its own river systvemv. Man, with his less than pin-point of tivme, writes and speaks of the "eternal hills." But the expression is, in truth, merely poetic license, for restless nature is unceasingly making and wearing away, remaking and again effacing the contours of this planet man calls the earth. Sometimes the method is one of slow, bit by bit erosion, quietly carried on through eons of time. Again it is one of violence in which cataclysmic forces pummel earth's elements, spew them in liquid form from white-hot craters, or compress and fold and crack them into towering, jagged heights. Western North Carolina over the span of millions upon millions of man- �8 / Chapter One CARL McINTOSH PHOTO For untold centuries Table Rock, shown here, has been exposed to the snows of winter and the pelting rains of summer. Yet its granite strength has continued to defy them all, years has witnessed all of nature's moods and has undergone all of the methods used to alter the earth's surface. In the cliffs and crags the story of the constant changes that have taken place in the region has been left to be interpreted by those who have the eyes to see. The record, unfolded, explains many mysteries of the present form of the land and the action of its rivers. It makes clear why the Blue Ridge rather than the generally higher Smokies constitutes the divide or watershed between rivers flowing into the Atlantic Ocean and those flowing into the great Mississippi system and through it into the Gulf of Mexico. It explains, too, the wealth of minerals and clays and stones and gems found in the area, and it throws light on the unsurpassed richness of its vegetation. The underlying rock formations throughout most of the mountain area indicate an antiquity that baffles the imagination of man. More than five hundred million years ago some of the base rocks now visible on mountain sides were originally beds of sand, some in shallow water, some in deep water, but all laid down by long vanished rivers. Some of the base rocks were once flows of steaming lava shot into the air by the force of raging volcanoes. Others were layers of volcanic rock debris carried by the busy streams into the sea. The sedimentary rocks and the volcanic formations made �The Land of Mountains / 9 CARL McINTOSH PHOTO The winter storms and the summer rains, aided by the winds that swirl around mountain heights, have battered and split this granite rock on Grandfather Mountain. from these deposits were later subjected to such tremendous pressure and to such extreme heat during the violent activities of the young world that their very characters were changed or metamorphosed. In their outcroppings today it is not always possible to determine their origivnal natures.3 Where the distinction between the types is clear cut, the metamorphosed soil sediments of the long ago have given thve present mountains their gneisses, schists, and slates, ranging inv vvvcolor from light through dark grey and from greenish grey to black, depending upon other elements embedded in their depths.4 Thev volcanic deposits of that ancient geological age, compressed and changed, have produced the granites of the region, predominating in the Blue Ridge range and in the northern half of the plateau stretching from these mountains to the Smokies. They also furnish the family of peridotites that lie in a narrow belt from Clay and Macon to Ashe and Alleghany Counties. This group of igneous formation gives the region its vermiculite, soapstone, olivine, and asbestos.5 The rock formations of this most ancient of geological times, changed as they were in character, do not appear in today's outcroppings in either original horizontal strata or solidly in their metamorphosed structures, for the Appalachian region is one of nature's oldest and most complex geological creations. Writhing in the throes of gigantic disturbances, these rocks were upheaved and in the process were bent and twisted and tilted. Into the crevices and fissures thus formed newer deposits were lodged, brought from the soil of distant uplands by the gnawing rivers. �10 / Chapter One APPLACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Where the gnawing rivers have been powerless to wear down resisting granite walls, mighty cliffs like this one in Hickory Nut Gorge stand as sentinels over the valleys below. New deposits of lava from spewing volcanoes crept into depressions and cracks, while fragments and powder of igneous rocks were transported by the untiring streams to find resting places in the niches and cuts of the older formations. This part of the process of enriching the mineral resources of the region nature carried on in what scientists have named the pre-Cambrian period of earth's history. It was a period before living creatures appeared upon the planet or when life forms were too soft in structure to withstand the fierce forces at work in the area. Since these ancient rocks form so large a part of the present Appalachian Mountains, Western North Carolina is noticeably lacking in fossils. Later formations, made during the early �The Land of Mountains / 11 Cambrian period, are found in the Smoky Mountain area and around Grandfather Mountain. They, too, have been metamorphosed, but by a less violent process than was the case with the older rocks. These Cambrian deposits, sedimentary in their original character, furnish shale, sandstone and limestone, together with slate, schist, marble, and quartzite.6 Then over the very ancient rocks of the present Western North Carolina crept the waters of a long, narrow sea. Into it flowed the rivers from the east, for a great folding and uplifting of the earth's surface had formed a towering mountain region over the present Piedmont area, a high region that extended beyond the present shore line of the Atlantic Ocean. The busy, tumbling streams of that area nibbled and chiseled the lofty mountains and plateaus in their efforts to wear them down. They deposited their loads of sediment from mountain sides and their fragments of rock and lava from the active volcanoes into the narrow sea. In time that sea was partly or wholly filled with these layers of deposits, and the waters began receding. Then in the section today called Western North Carolina extreme activity gripped the earth's surface in a terrific shrinking movement. With power beyond human thought, this movement pulled the base rocks of the mountains and land in the southeast, the present Piedmont, forcing them, through a long series of rumbling earthquakes, to push and crowd and slide northwestward.7 At the same time, land to the northwest was stable or was more gently pulled toward the oncoming mass from the east. The narrow, filled sea was thus squeezed between wedging forces. It became the scene of cataclysmic events. With a force and power in comparison with which man made explosions are mere pop-gun efforts, the pre-Cambrian rock bed of the sea, overlaid with newer deposits, was thrust upward and pushed from both sides. It was crumbled and folded like paper, the ridge at the top creaking and cracking and breaking into countless weird, sharp shapes. At last the earth attained ease from its internal turmoil and nature lessened its strenuous activities, for jagged and towering, the first Appalachian Mountains had been born. Life had definitely come upon the earth by this time, and the lowly crablike creatures and snails were leaving their shells in the mud that, becoming rock, would entomb these frail houses of earth's early inhabitants. But in the Appalachian region they are rarely found in the rocks of this period, for the violence of folding and tilting and the sliding of the mountain masses ground the tiny shells to powder.8 �12 / Chapter One In these new Appalachian Mountains that reared their massive heads to Alpine heights, rivers began cutting ravines and deepening them into gorges and chasms. The sun and the wind and the rain combined their efforts in eroding the lofty peaks, and the intense cold surrounding their summits aided with its ice and snow. As eon after eon slipped into the past, the slow work of erosion went on until the once noble Appalachians were no more. The land where they had stood was a plain, broken only by low hills where now stand the Unaka and Great Smokies.9 So level did the floor of the plain become that the once swift rivers grew lazy and meandering, wandering in leisurely fashion through their shallow valleys. During the long geological age, there were several periods of more or less gradual uplift, followed by periods of erosion before the region achieved the monotonous level of a plain. But nature had not yet completed the task of creation in this area, and again the region was greatly uplifted, but this time without folding or twisting or tilting. The result would have been a high plateau except for the work of the rivers. The sluggish streams took on new life and vigor as their decline to sea level increased. So, as the area was elevated, the rivers kept pace with the process, eroding the land at about the same rate as the uplift took place. The river beds straightened and a few rivers, because of new sloping directions, reversed their water flow. Instead of traveling south or east to the sea, they came to follow their old beds north to join rivers that flowed west and, in turn, joined still other streams flowing south and thus into the Gulf of Mexico. Some, joining stronger streams, gave up their waters once and for all, leaving their unused beds to dry and sear in the sun.10 Still others that were mere rivulets or brooks at the beginning of the uplift grew in length and size as they strenuously worked to cut gorges through the rising mountains to reach lower levels on their way to the sea. The region, then, during the chiseling of the present Appalachian Mountains, saw a general rearrangement of the existing river systems. Because these streams are older than the present mountain ranges at the western border of North Carolina, those ranges are not a divide, although their general altitude exceeds that of the Blue Ridge. With its hard, granite walls, the Blue Ridge was more impenetrable than the western ranges, and prevented the rivers that developed from cutting passages southeastward through it. The Blue Ridge is, therefore, a true divide, the streams rising to �The Land of Mountains / 13 the west of it flowing into the Gulf of Mexico by way of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers and the streams rising to the east of it flowing into the Atlantic. In Watauga County, near Grandfather Mountain, four rivers have their source, two of which finally empty their waters into the Gulf and two of which empty their waters into the Atlantic. Thus the mountains as they are today in Western North Carolina are largely the result of the neverresting streams gashing through the uplifted plains and forming gorges, wearing down the softer of the formations and leaving the harder rocks to rear their heads in majestic mountains and peaks.11 Much erosion has taken place since those long ago days of uplift, for the Appalachians are old mountains, some scholars think they are the world's oldest mountains. In comparison with them, the Rockies are still in an adolescent age. The peaks that once rivaled or possibly surpassed any in the present Rockies have been nibbled away through the thousands of centuries until not a one of them today is above timberline. Many have acquired a rounded, softened appearance, and all have been overlaid with a generous blanket of soil which has become the home of a rich and varied vegetation. As a result of the many phases of creation employed by nature in these mountains, the Appalachians abound in minerals and rocks, both metallic and non-metallic. Some three hundred kinds of minerals and rocks are accredited to North Carolina,12 and most of them are to be found in its western counties. Of the nonmetallic group, the mountains for untold eons have held their precious loads of mica and feldspar, of clays and sand and gravel, of granite and slate and limestone and marble, of precious and semi-precious stones. These stones are surprisingly diverse and include rubies, sapphires, amethysts, garnets, quartz, emeralds, zircons, even diamonds—all the products of the pressure and heat, the filling in of crevices and fissures in older rocks. In short, they testify to the tremendous processes of nature in its violent activities in Western North Carolina. In 1756, a German engineer by the name of John William Gerard de Brahm, coming into the region to build a fort, wrote more truly than he could know when he recorded in his Journal: "This country seems longing for the hand of industry to receive its hidden treasures, which nature has been collecting and toiling since the beginning ready to deliver them up."13 Metals in varying amounts have also been among the hidden treasures of the mountains. Gold, silver, and copper the Indians mined and used as ornaments. The gold-greedy soldiers of De Soto �" "'^ CARL McINTOSH PHOTO Hoot Owl, an underground mine, yields its treasure of feldspar, one of nature's most useful CARL McINTOSH PHOTO Chalk Mountain mine is one of several open feldspar mines. prospected for the same metals. For more than a century their sporadic mining attempts probably returned small amounts of gold and silver, for both appear in many places, although for modern purposes, in commercially unprofitable quantities. The gold deposits that gave the state its early title of the "Golden State" and that produced many millions worth of bullion are on �The Land of Mountains / 15 14 the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge. Copper, however, is in greater amounts in the mountains, principally in Ashe, Jackson, Haywood, and Swain Counties. Also locked in the hidden recesses of the hills is iron, of all minerals the most useful to man, along with lead, zinc, manganese, nickel, titanium (rich in its promise of future uses), and tungsten.15 As plant life developed upon the face of the earth, Western North Carolina became the home of those forms adapted to its climate and altitude. In periods of uplift, plant forms requiring warm, humid climates died or gradually moved out of the region to homes more to their liking. Others, thriving in cool, dry climates, moved in. Many such changes and reversals took place over the ageless lapses of time that elevated and wore down and elevated again this little section of the globe. In these changes a few plants were able to adapt themselves to the gradually shifting conditions of altitude and moisture and, in slightly modified forms, stayed in the region. Then late in time—geologically speaking—masses of ice blanketed the northeastern part of North America and for centuries crept steadily southward in what is now the United States. These ice floes pushed ahead of themselves rocks and boulders, in fact, everything in their paths. At their approach the climate in front of them grew colder and increasingly forbidding, so that both plants and animals beat a slow but constant retreat southward. These Pleistocene successions of great ice sheets did not reach North Carolina although they strongly affected both the flora and the fauna of the Appalachian region. Creatures and plant forms, yearly seeking new homes to the south, found in the mountains (which were then similar to the present mountains except higher) a climate comparable in coolness to their former northern homes. In their new mountain retreat these visitors settled down at the altitudes best fitted to them individually to live in what harmony they could with the animals and plant forms already in the region, many of which had entered it from areas farther south. The result was a meeting of Alpine and semi-tropical growth with all the graduations in between. At the end of the Pleistocene period, when the unfriendly ice masses receded and a more temperate climate followed them northward, plants sheltered in the Appalachian region of Western North Carolina spread out to repopulate the vast stretches made barren by the grinding force and the arctic air of the ice blankets. When that process had been carried out to the �16 / Chapter One to* ELLIOT LYMAN FISHER PHOTO Rhododendron: Each June the exotic blooms of the rhododendron turn the "balds" and hillsides into fairy gardens. This picture shows a riot of blooms below Mt. Mitchell. point of providing adequate pasturage and food, the animals sojourning in Western North Carolina likewise returned to their former habitations. But not all of each plant species left the mountains. Some stayed, and their numerous descendants can be seen today in the region. Thus the present Southern Appalachians have a wealth of plant forms unsurpassed in any area of its size in the world and greater than that of the entire continent of Europe. In fact, the area has many plants found in no other section of the United States; some, indeed, not found except in parts of Asia, where conditions have perpetuated the ancient forms.16 Of all the mountain plants, the magnificent forests that sweep up the hillsides and cover many of the peaks are the region's crowning glory. In some sections, as in the highest altitudes along the Blue Ridge Parkway, the forests of beech, yellow birch, and yellow buckeye—usually found in moist valleys— are stunted and �The Land of Mountains / 17 I ill HUGH MORTON PHOTO Upper Left; Western North Carolina is a veritable garden, where some 1,400 flowering plants and shrubs make spring and summer colorful seasons. One of the lovely flowers is the purple fringed orchid shown here; Upper Right: The Pink Moccasin Flower is also called the Pink Lady Slipper; Lower Left: The Huckleberry is a favorite in the mountains; Lower Right: The Osmunda is a very hardy mountain fern. �18 / Chapter One HUGH MORTON PHOTO This beautiful picture was taken near Linville. gnarled, but as much, perhaps, by the force of the winter winds as by the altitude. Along much of this Parkway the trees are mainly oaks, hickories, and maples, interspersed with pine and hemlock. On Mt. Mitchell the present stand of red spruce is one of the finest in the nation.17 In the Great Smoky Mountains National Park spruce and fir predominate in vast areas of virgin growth. These, with pines and conifers, cover other western ranges, and throughout the entire mountain area tulip trees, yellow birch, yellow buckeye, mountain silver bell, Fraser magnolia, sourwood, Alleghany service berry, pin cherry, and American mountain ash grow in profusion and often attain enormous size. Both conifers and hardwoods make their homes in these mountains, with more than 140 varieties of trees in the Great Smoky Mountains alone. Many of these are relatives of the migrants from Canada during the ice age. In fact, more than half �The Land of Mountains / 19 APPLACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Summer foliage and sheer rock cliffs combine to bring their beauty to the hills and valleys. of the woody plants in this area are species of the Canadian zone. Since the mountain climate varies with altitude, most woody plants have been able to find conditions favorable to their growth.18 This is, of course, true of all the flora of the region so that in traveling from the valleys to the high peaks, one travels through vegetation zones ranging from the latitude of North Carolina to that of central Canada. This phenomenon of traveling north by climbing a Western North Carolina mountain can, perhaps, best be noticed in May. Starting from a valley where summer has furnished the trees with fully grown foliage and has brought many trees and shrubs and plants into bloom, the climber witnesses the gradual disappearance of the early spring flowers and the shrinkage in size of the leaves of the trees until only leaf buds are visible. Then at higher �20 / Chapter One HUGH MORTON PHOTO A fawn on Grandfather Mountain gets acquainted with his forest home. levels one sees plants and trees still slumbering in their winter quietness, awaiting the touch of warm spring winds and rains to stir them into renewed life.19 Even today, after man has wastefully played havoc with much of the timber of the region, in large areas of the Smokies, in the Nantahalas, in the Unicoi and other ranges stands of magnificent virgin timber—like that of the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest— give evidence of the glorious growth of trees in the mountains before the white man's advent into Western North Carolina. While trees are the Applachian region's most common and most magnificent clothing, and certainly the most valuable to man, thousands of other plant forms spring up or nestle closely to the mountain sides and crests and cover the intervening valleys with prodigal abundance. For reasons not understood by scientists, some of the mountain peaks are treeless, even though trees grow on their slopes and on nearby mountain tops. They are, on the whole, well rounded or domed in form and have acquired the descriptive name of balds. They are of two types, depending upon the growth that crowns them. Some balds are covered with low grasses, used now for pasturage. Whether some ancient forest fire left them denuded �The Land of Mountains / 21 and grasses in time crept over the charred area before the forest could regain the summit is not known. The prevailing winds and, during the past century, the pasturing of cattle on them have doubtless combined to help keep them bald. Other treeless balds are covered with dense growths of laurel or rhododendron bushes that sometimes reach considerable heights. These are known as heath balds. On them the growth is often dense and tangled and practically impenetrable. These individual growths are thought to be a comparatively recent development, and it may well be that under favorable conditions trees will attempt to reestablish themselves where perhaps they once lived.20 Of the thousands of plant forms in Western North Carolina (and the number reaches 3,600 in the Smoky Mountains) the rhododendron and laurel covering the balds and their relative, the flame azalea, growing both on the balds and on grassy slopes, furnish spring's most spectacular display. But companions of these throughout the section include some 1,400 flowering plants, over 1,700 species of fungi, 330 mosses and liverworts and 230 lichens. From early spring, or even the last winter months, through late autumn, the mountains produce a parade of color, ranging from the vivid yellows and orange of the azaleas21 and the elusive purple shades of the Catawba rhododendron to the soft, muted tones of the trillium and the breath-taking purity of the rare Shortia or Oconee Bell. In autumn the parade is intensified by the flaunting colors of the trees as their leaves say goodbye with a brave burst of glory.22 For untold ages this mountain region has been one of nature's most thickly populated zoos, for the canopy of trees over valleys and hillsides and the rich carpet of undergrowth have furnished ideal coverts for bear and buffalo, deer and panther, and a multitude of smaller creatures. Food has been on every hand, and swift mountain streams, fed by the abundant rainfall blessing the area, have provided reliable sources of water. Western North Carolina was in former times a veritable Garden of Eden where animals were rulers. Animals flourished and multiplied, roaming at will and leaving their hardpacked trails across the mountain gaps and down the valleys to protected drinking spots. The climate, with its short winters and few snows and its long, cool summers, has been kind to animals. Indeed their chief fears, before man's coming into the region, arose from the depredations of one species upon another and from an occasional rock slide or lightning-set fire that swept a mountain side. �22 / Chapter One Uftjr,v •&**' ;?s*i». , <* *J U_Mfe. •' ~" -: *?.3fcfr '••• . lv~^ /drif-SN-* HUGH MORTON PHOTO Tlie mountain region has been one of nature's thickly populated zoos. With trees and undergrowth to serve as coverts and with food on every hand and with streams nearby, the hills have been an animal's paradise. Many species have survived the inroads of man and his gun. Among them is the American black bear. The bears we see here have their home on Grandfather Mountain. HUGH MORTON PHOTO The mountain lion once stalked the forests of the North Carolina mountains, but the fearless cat, along with the panther and cougar, is as extinct now as the prehistoric dinosaur. �HUGH MORTON PHOTO Upper Left: The little Carolina Chickadee sings his cheery notes whenever he lights on a convenient twig or tree limb; Upper Right: The American red squirrel is also called the mountain boomer; Lower Left: These young raccoons find a place to rest on an old rail fence; Lower Right: The ruffed grouse is one of more than 200 species of birds that have found an ideal habitat in the mountains of Western North Carolina, Even today, after the bows and arrows and guns of men have completely exterminated some forms of North Carolina wild life, such as the buffalo, panther, and elk, and have made vast inroads in the number of small species, and after the remaining animal population has been forced to make room for land-greedy humans, it is estimated that Western North Carolina supports more than fifty kinds of fur bearing animals, in addition to an untold number of insects and invertebrates.23 Back in the mountain fastnesses the black bear, the white-tailed deer, and the bob-cat live much as they have for thousands of years. But many of the smaller animals such as the oppossums, raccoons, skunks, squirrels, and chipmunks have compromised with man and often share his territory. �24 / Chapter One Over two hundred kinds of birds have found an ideal habitat in these mountains. Some yearly come from southern countries for the summers; others arrive from northern countries for the winter. Birds of the north and birds of the south meet, then, in Western North Carolina. Many individuals in several species forego the long, hard migratory flights to northern or southern regions and, like the Carolina junco, are content with summer trips to the high mountain altitudes, spending their winters in the lower valleys.24 All through the year the calls or songs of birds swell from tree tops on mountain sides and in wooded valleys. Every breeze bears a message trilled by the air-borne citizens of the world. So it is that long before man's appearance, Western North Carolina was prepared for his habitation. Man was to find the climate to his liking. He was to find fish and game. He was to find food and herbs abundant for his needs, and he was to find the materials nature had stored there for the making of his tools. Above all, he was to find an eternal awareness of the mountains— their protection from outside turmoil, their offerings for his use, their challenge to his ingenuity, and their unconquerable strength. They were to make his life hard and isolated and at times narrow. But they were to give him something of their own uprightness and hardiness, a bit of their granite, and the spirit of the freedomloving winds that sweep their heights. They were to dominate his work and his days until they set the pattern of his life and became for him the "Hills of Home." �C H A P T E R T W O Eden is Discovered istory will never know the day or year when a band of nomadic people wandered into what is now Western North Carolina. These primitive people may have been a family group fleeing from enemies or searching for better hunting grounds. They belonged to one of the tribes or "nations" that resulted from sporadic waves of Asiatic peoples entering America by way of Alaska between eight and ten thousand years ago, perhaps much earlier. By degrees these migrating people traveled south, folio wing a route between the Pacific Ocean and the Rocky Mountains. Some continued into South America. Others skirted the southern tip of the Rocky Mountains and turned eastward across the plains. Many of these crossed the Mississippi River and fanned out in all directions in the eastern part of what is now the United States.1 Over the centuries, as family groups increased in size, they developed tribes or "nations." These larger units were loosely bound by ties of family, common racial traits, language, and an ever growing wealth of customs and traditions. The tribes in the east met, fought, and sometimes blended. By modern standards the territory stretching from the Mississippi River to the Atlantic Ocean was sparsely inhabited during the entire period of Native American occupation, both pre-historic and historic. But the tribes, depending upon hunting for food and clothing, required vast hunting grounds. Competition must have become keen and 25 �26 / Chapter Two bitter as eastern tribes increased and as more eastward-moving groups crossed the Mississippi River. So it was that on an unrecorded day a band of nomads sought a new home in the present Western North Carolina. Glimpses of the way of life of some of the pre-historic Indians have been gleaned from artifacts found on the sites of their camps, villages, battlefields, and from their man-made mounds. These mounds, differing in size and shape, dot wide areas of the eastern section of the United States. Leveled by the plows of farmers, many small ones have disappeared, and their treasures have been lost for all time. In North Carolina, as in other states, mounds have been opened in attempts to piece together the history of the American Indians. In Western North Carolina the earliest explorations were in Burke, Caldwell, and Wilkes Counties. Excavations of both mounds and town sites have been carried on in practically every county west of the Blue Ridge. In addition, extensive work has been done in the old Cherokee country and along the Nolichucky River in Tennessee.2 At the excavation site in the Swannanoa valley on land belonging to Warren Wilson College, the oldest culture found furnishes an idea of the first possible human discoverers of Western North Carolina. Their camp was small and probably a temporary one and may have been used over a period of time by wandering family groups. These people were hunters and gatherers. Their homes were crude shelters and their clothing was made from skins. Their spearpoints were fashioned from soapstone as were their cooking pots. Animals killed in the hunt were skinned and the meat roasted over a fire in a pit. Hunters and gatherers like these people roamed over a wide area from Maine to Florida, leaving evidences of their passing throughout much of North Carolina. It is estimated that groups of them were in Western North Carolina at least 10,000 years ago. The village above the Swannanoa camp clearly showed the cultural development that took place during the thousands of years that separated them. Artifacts found in the last Native American town built on this site, long after the village below was in ruins, are proof of further cultural development. That development was the result of internal improvement and outside influences. The scientists working at the site suggest that this culture is the primary base from which the Middle Cherokee culture developed.3 �Eden is Discovered / 27 Excavations farther west have provided evidence of a succession of primitive groups or tribes living along the Little Tennessee, the Hiwassee, and other western rivers. The earliest of these people have conveniently been called the Upper Valley People. Numerous man-made pits indicate where their fires were made for cooking the family meals. They made pottery, some of it decorated by pressing the soft clay with fiber cords. In their compact villages they lived in circular houses; they buried their dead in a flexed position. Their tools were crude stone implements. In time these people were followed by a group with a similar racial background but with slightly different customs. Known to scientists as the Middle Valley People, this second group seems to have lived for a long period of time in eastern Tennessee and the western counties of North Carolina. They lived in family units with their homes strung along rivers and they made pottery that was without cord markings, a fact that indicates they had had no contact with the people they followed. The great number of mussel shells on their home sites and in their refuse heaps points to the fact that they lived partly on mussels and may have come from a coastal area, possibly from the area around the Gulf of Mexico. They were mound-builders and buried their dead in a partly flexed position, one body in a grave but hundreds of graves in a mound. Following the Middle Valley People, came another tribe, known today as the Hiwassee People. They brought with them a decidedly higher culture than that of the preceding groups. Some of their customs were similar to those of Mexican tribes, indicating an origin far to the south. They lived in villages protected by stockades. Inside the enclosures were rectangular homes made with a framework of saplings set vertically at close intervals in trenches. They built their public buildings on mounds, for they were mound-builders. On one of these mounds was their temple, which may also have served as a community house for tribal business meetings. In it was an eternal fire since they were fire-worshippers. They cord-marked their pottery and also painted some of the earthenware, using a red dye or red on a buff background. No burials made by these people have been found, and it is supposed that they cremated their dead. On plots outside the stockades they raised grain and some vegetables. These Hiwassee People lived for a long period of time in the area that included the mountain land. They were a part of a wide-spread culture that extended from the Mississippi River to �28 / Chapter Two : : »i ^ •i^mrn^ V ^ '#:*/^C,^l|jr%f^V to, ..-"" *•*• ''• •*• • ?X l tt-' . .. • :»* 'r^ »* . , , . ^r E. DOUGLAS DE PEW PHOTO The Judaculla Rock in Jackson County carries a message that for centuries has remained a secret. Its hieroglyphics are the work of some pre-historic tribe or person or of some early Cherokee. Later Cherokees viewed the rock with awe and its markings as the work of Judaculla, a superman or god. A present-day theory is that the inscription on it may depict a battle, possibly between the early Cherokees and their enemies, the Creeks. Florida. Yet in time, they were forced to make way for a new group, today called the Dallas People. For some time these two tribes seem to have lived in fairly close relationship in their separate villages. They were similar in culture, although the Dallas mounds were oval and their council houses differed slightly from those of the Hiwassee. Yet in the end the Dallas People drove out or absorbed the Hiwassee People.4 After this tribe, came the Cherokees, who came with a background of struggle and warfare that had made for them bitter and powerful enemies. Early Cherokee history is necessarily a matter of legends, traditions and myths, of tales of distant lands and heroes and battles told by the wise old men of the tribe to each succeeding generation of braves. Yet from these tales— even with their frequent contradictions and evident interpolations—and from tales current in enemy nations, together with the study of the movements of various native �Eden is Discovered / 29 *1±™™''%"fei .«*-:. L • % FROM AN 1890 PHOTOGRAPH IN MOONEY, MYTHS OF THE CHEROKEES This ancient mound at Franklin in Macon County was the siteofNikwasi, for long periods of time the Principal Town of the Middle Cherokees. Donations made by schoolchildren and citizens of the county made its preservation possible. American stocks and of their physical, linguistic, and cultural similarities, the pattern of life of the Cherokees' prehistoric ancestors can be at least partly sketched.5 The Cherokees are of Iroquoian origin, a relative nation of the mighty Iroquois.6 A separation of the two groups came early (perhaps before the crossing of the Mississippi River, but more probably afterward) when the migrants sought a permanent dwelling place. The Iroquois spread north of the Great Lakes and into central New York, while the Cherokees took possession of the vast territory stretching from the Great Lakes to the Ohio River. In time, they entered New York from the south and again came into contact with the Iroquois. The centuries of separation had brought many differences between the two related groups, and although their languages were still similar and their type of arrows still identical, they were now distinct nations. Competing now for the same territory, they developed into bitter enemies. �30 / Chapter Two Also, as the Cherokees advanced east, their struggle with the Delawares intensified. According to their traditions, the state of sporadic warfare existing between the Cherokees and the Delawares dated from the long-past appearance of the latter nation on the west bank of the Mississippi River. From the Cherokees the Delawares had asked permission to cross over and share the vast Cherokee territory. That request had been denied, but the privilege of passing through the country to the eastern lands had been granted. During the undoubtedly slow trek, however, trouble arose between the two groups, at times amounting to a state of war. When the Cherokees later pushed into the eastern territory, the Delaware settlers were unable to stem the invasion and enlisted the aid of the powerful Iroquois, who were also fully aware of the dangers of Cherokee encroachment. The result was an open war climaxed by a fierce battle near the southern border of Lake Erie in which, despite their fortifications and breastworks, the Cherokees were so soundly defeated that their dream of land in the north and east vanished. Following this humiliation, they retreated by slow degrees to the Ohio River and down it to the Kanawha. Passing up that, they entered the present West Virginia. Ruins of fortifications of Cherokee design over a rather wide area of that section testify to the opposition they met from nations and tribes in the territory. Because of this opposition and doubtless to gain elbow room, they gradually moved south and west, eventually reaching Western North Carloina, possibly by way of the Holston and Tennessee Rivers.7 In the mountain section of Western North Carolina they had an almost impregnable position with a climate favorable for comfortable existence and with abundant food available for the shooting. The Cherokees, as time passed, increased in numbers and in strength, claiming as their hunting grounds regions far distant from their villages strung along the rivers of the present Western North Carolina and Tennessee. In fact, by the time the English speaking people appeared in their territory, they were second only to the Iroquois federation in population and military strength. Their vaguely defined national boundaries included the Appalachian region from the headwaters of the Tennessee into the present Georgia and from the Blue Ridge to the Cumberlands, a tract of some forty thousand square miles which took in all of Western North Carolina, parts of Kentucky, West �Eden is Discovered / 31 Virginia, South Carolina, and the eastern section of Tennessee, together with sections of Alabama and a claim on hunting rights throughout Kentucky,8 Protection of their immediate mountain homeland kept the nation at almost constant warfare with surrounding tribes. In addition to their ancient foes, the Delawares and Iroquois, they now counted as enemies the Catawbas east of the Blue Ridge, the Sara, Cheraw, and the Tuscaroras farther to the east and southeast, the Creeks in upper Georgia, the Chickasaws to the west, and the Shawnees wherever wandering bands of that nomadic group appeared. On hunting expeditions to the "Land of Kaintuck," they were always prepared to enter combat with any roaming bands of hunters from still other nations. Thus the Cherokees did their share in making that lovely land "a dark ground and a bloody ground." They were considered in all Indian councils as a powerful nation and a formidable foe. With their homes favorably located and well protected, the Cherokees thrived and expanded. Their towns and villages sprang up along the rivers and streams in eastern Tennessee, Western North Carolina, northern Georgia, and northwestern South Carolina. The remainder of their vast domain they kept as a hunting preserve. As the years passed, the homeland became geographically divided into three distinct areas, each one developing a dialect and certain individual customs and group traits. The settlements in eastern Georgia and South Carolina made a unit known as the Lower Towns where the language, acquired a predominantly rolling "r" sound. The villages along the Tuckaseigee River and along the headwaters of the Little Tennessee, together with those on the Hiwassee and Valley Rivers, became the Middle Towns. There a liquid "1" sound supplanted the rolling "r," making the language spoken the most musical of the Cherokee dialects and the one eventually to become the literary language of the nation. Farther to the west in Georgia and along the Little Tennessee and Tellico Rivers were the Over Hill Towns where again the "r" sound could be heard. It was in the Over Hill area that the capital, Echota or Chota, was located. It was likewise regarded as a sacred town and was a city of refuge. However, each area had a prominent town, a sort of sub-capital, which also served as a religious center and was therefore a sacred city. Nikwasi, on the site of the present Franklin, North Carolina, was the principal town of the Middle Cherokees. Keowee, on the Tugalo �32 / Chapter Tu ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE From wood and reeds the early Cherokees fashioned their arrows and the slender darts used in their blow-guns. This craftsman at the Oconaluftee Village in Cherokee is carrying on the centuries-old art. River in South Carolina, was the largest of the Lower Towns.9 The Cherokees lacked the strong propensity for organization that their distant relatives, the Iroquois, displayed, and the three parts of their nation were held together more by tradition, customs, and a common though varying language than by governmental authority. Until they made treaties with the English colonies, they had no official head of the nation although �Eden is Discovered / 33 English colonies, they had no official head of the nation although now and then one individual doubtless wielded a determining influence throughout the territory. Through a council made up of male citizens, each town elected a chief, and most towns had their wise men, whose calm, sage advice carried much weight. In addition, the people were grouped into seven clans with complicated requirements of clan loyalty. James Adair, an early English trader, found them possessing devices of government, religious rites, and moral concepts strikingly like those held and practiced by the ancient Hebrews. Sometimes the nation as a whole determined for or against war, but more often bands of young warriors from a city or clan went on foraging expeditions into enemy country. The use of weapons was a part of each boy's education, and he was eager to prove his prowess by participating in a war or raid. It was possible, too, for a town or clan or one of the geographical areas to go to war without the consent or aid of other units or the nation as a whole, and there were even periods of bloody intratribal contention. The fates of prominent captives might be decided in council, and a major crime such as shedding blood in a city of refuge would be an affair for authorities to punish. But on the whole, justice (which meant as with the Hebrews of old, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth") was left to be meted out by the injured person, and revenge was the privilege of the wronged family or clan.10 Next to the excitement of war, hunting offered the Cherokee youth satisfyingly thrilling experiences, and children listened wide-eyed to the adventurous tales related by returning hunters. Memorable was the day when a lad was told he might join a party setting out for the far reaches of the Cherokee domain. Each group of hunters was of necessity also a scouting party, ready to give battle to any trespassers found within the considered boundaries of the nation; the hunters brought back to the home councils whatever information could be gleaned concerning the surrounding enemy tribes. Game was abundant, and the Cherokees knew each species, its migratory habits, its breeding grounds, and its lairs. Parties armed with their bows and keen, flint arrows, a supply of darts, and perhaps their surprisingly efficient blow-guns with their poison-tipped, slender arrows, set out from their homes along trails that were well defined near their habitations but which narrowed as they entered denser forests. �34 / Chapter Two EWART M. BALL PHOTO In the council house at the Oconaluftee Village in Cherokee this maker of masks and designer of feather robes demonstrates the ancient and intricate art of his ancestors. Some of these trails the Cherokees had made during their era of expansion in the mountain area, but many were ages old, beaten firm by the tnoccasined feet of prehistoric predecessors in their search for game or enemies. Others were still older, opened through undergrowth and thickets by untold generations of buffalo, deer, bear and other animals whose hooves pounded the soft forest floor into solid highways leading to other coverts or to suitable watering places. Over the centuries these slender, single-file mountain and forest trails became numerous, crossing and criss-crossing the territory, a veritable network of primitive roads giving access to every part of Western North Carolina from the Smokies to the Blue Ridge and on into the lands to the east, north, and south.11 Aside from any punitive motive that the hunters might secretly nourish, the aim of the hunting party was the replenishing of the food supply and of material for clothing for the home or clan; for until the white man came with his �Eden is Discovered / 35 insatiable greed for pelts, the Cherokees killed only the needed amount of game. Thus the entire nation was able to have both meat and furs in comparative abundance without depleting the wild life that roamed the area. In fact, the Cherokees had a feeling of respect for all forms of wild life that in some instances, judging from their myths, amounted almost to a feeling of kinship. They gave their clans animal names and bestowed animal titles upon their outstanding warriors as marks of honor. They related animal tales to their children and represented birds and animals in their ceremonial dances. Animals and birds even played leading roles in their stories of creation and of the formation of their mountains. All of that had developed, it would seem, from an ancient animism and animal worship, remnants of which had become woven into the fabric of their religious concepts.12 Hunting was, perhaps, for the men an escape from the monotony of daily life. But it was also a necessity, for it furnished the towns with a supply of meat. Aside from game, a goodly portion of the nation's food came from the rivers. From the clear mountain streams the fishermen, expert with their bone fish hooks, could catch a day's supply offish in a few minutes' angling. In season the women and children gathered a variety of berries, plums, grapes, cherries, persimmons, and nuts from the open glades and the woods. At the proper time they also gathered various herbs, roots, and shrubs to be used for medicines and drinks. Each spring the leaves of many wild plants were picked to be cooked as greens, and the air was then often reeking with the perfume of the ramp, a mighty relative of the onion. Outside their villages were the fields and gardens. The Cherokees had not yet acquired the concept of individual ownership of land, and the fields were community fields where each household worked its assigned plot. In some instances, however, a family was allotted an additional strip of ground nearer its home on which to raise more food. By the time history unveiled "The Land of the Sky," the Cherokees were producing as good corn and vegetables as could be expected in view of the crudeness of the agricultural implements they had been able to fashion. They grew corn, potatoes, squash, beans, and tobacco, a choice product reserved for use in their ceremonial pipes. From potatoes, from ground nuts, and from dried corn they made breads, which they baked in coals or cooked over their open fires. In big earthen pots they made soups and stews, combining �36 / Chapter Two meat and vegetables, often previously dried in the sun. Thus a Cherokee meal could be surprisingly complete and certainly vitamin filled, from soup through fish, meat, and vegetables to berries sweetened with honey taken from a nearby "bee tree." However, accounts left by English traders make it plain that the Cherokee cooks were unhampered by the white man's methods of preparing and serving food.13 To these mountain dwellers war was an ever present possibility, a natural result of acquiring and protecting a territory large enough to support a growing population. For protection as well as for social advantages they lived in towns which, by modern standards, were mere villages built along the rivers. Early traders write of them as ranging in size from a cluster of five or six dwellings to some thirty or more houses, although there are records mentioning towns having more than a hundred homes. Like all Indians, the Cherokees were an outdoor people and spent most of their days in the open. Their houses, used mostly as sleeping quarters, could be adequate without being large. All were constructed from the materials to be had for the gathering. The earliest were simple buildings fashioned by bringing a circle of saplings together at the top and weaving cane gathered from the river banks to these supports. River clay served as a filler and an outer coating for these cane walls. Somewhat more ambitious than these stationary wigwams were the rectangular lodges or cabins built of logs. Here, too, clay served as the needed chinking. In both types of houses low doors gave entrance into the oneroomed structure and admitted the only light that got inside since there were no windows. The packed earth was the only floor. Sometimes beside a house was a tiny structure with a door so low that one entered it by crawling. This was the "hot house," for here, in the cold weather that came so suddenly in the mountains, a fire burned, and members of the family could enter and enjoy the warmth. The outdoor fires used for cooking and a variety of activities served to offset the chill of frosty mornings and the damp of early evenings.14 The largest and most important structure in the village was the council house, which served as an assembly hall and temple, doubtless also as a "man's club." It was accorded an awed respect, for in it burned the sacred fire. In it decisions were made that affected the entire community and projects like the Indian ball games and the ceremonial dances were planned. In it, too, �Eden is Discovered / 37 were kept the medicineman's equipment and the paraphernalia used in religious rites. It gained prominence by its position on a mound, made as a temple site centuries earlier by the preCherokee mountain dwellers. At least some of these Cherokee council houses had a symbolic structural form of seven sides, each side representing one of the nation's clans.15 Furniture both here and in the homes was practically unnecessary, since eating was done out of doors where logs and stumps were plentiful if chairs were desired and since the ground served as a chair in the houses. Buffalo, deer, and bear skins made as good beds as any Cherokee had ever known or imagined. Like other primitive peoples the Cherokees were necessarily a busy people, for, in addition to keeping the larder supplied through hunting and fishing and farming, whatever was worn or whatever was needed as tools had to be made amd fashioned laboriously by hand. No wonder, then, that during the summer months they reduced the dress problem to a minimum. At this season the men were fully garbed when they wore simple loin cloths of dressed skins. Children up to about ten years of age enjoyed complete freedom from clothes. Girls and women wore simple, knee-length skirts of dressed skins. More clothing was required for the mountain winters. Robes of buffalo or deerskin were used then by the men, and some were fortunate enough to have squaws who could weave for them warm robes of feathers, slowly gathered from the wild turkeys or other birds during the molting season or when used as food. Beautiful, matched feathers, some of them dyed, were worked into rich ceremonial robes and mantles, often many thousands of soft, tiny feathers being used in a single garment.16 For shoes, pliable moccasins were made from deerskin. It was no simple task to cure the buffalo, deer, and bear pelts, and it required skill to transform deerskins into the cloth-like buckskin used for clothing and moccasins. Even after the first process had been completed, the garments had yet to be fashioned by sewing with fine, thread-like thongs of leather passed through the eyes of bone needles.17 The harvested grain and the gathered offerings of meadows and woods were carried and stored in baskets of varying sizes and shapes. These were made by the women from the river cane and from oak and hickory splints made from saplings, then smoothed and thinned with crude stone or bone implements and made pliable by soaking. The splints or canes were then woven, possibly in the double weave fashion characteristic of the �38 / Chapter Two Cherokee weaving. The women also made the pottery used as pots and pans and the few bowls needed. The process was an ancient one, evolved when the human race was young. Clay from the river banks was formed into coils which were piled one upon another and shaped by skillful hands, then scraped smooth by pieces of sharpened stone or bone, becoming a pot or a bowl or a jar destined to serve many uses. It was carefully fired to withstand heat and to become waterproof.18 To the women fell the lot of tilling the fields. Henry Timberlake, visiting the Over Hill Towns in 1761, reported that the "country... is so remarkably fertile, that the women alone do all the laborious tasks of agriculture/' The men at certain seasons or on special occasions also did some work in the fields, quite possibly as rituals or as punishment meted out by their chiefs. Martin Schneider, in the Over Hill Towns in 1783, says that at sunrise he saw the chief of Chota calling all the men to work in the fields and that they were not allowed to return until sundown, the women bringing them food during the day. It is perhaps safe to assume that this was an unusual day.19 To some extent water travel was available even to these mountain dwellers. They felled giant trees—poplars—by ringing them and leaving them to die so that the felling process could be done easily. It was the same slow method that they had used for centuries to clear forest tracts for cultivation. Then, with a crude stone axe and the use of fire, the log was hollowed out, shaped, and then scraped to the desired thinness and lightness. The result was an efficient watercraft that could easily be transported between streams and that was watertight and capable of carrying several passengers. The men, too, made the weapons used in war and hunting. Their bows and arrows were similar to those used by other tribes and their flint arrow heads were identical with those made by the Iroquois. In addition they made blow-guns from river cane by removing the pith and making slender, feathered arrows that sped through the tubes with speed and accuracy, sealing the doom of many a small animal and bringing to earth many a bird. Stones of suitable size were also brought into the village by the men and made into a variety of cutting and smoothing tools, while others were gouged out and smoothed to hold the grain and dried seeds and tubers that the women pounded into meal with stone pestles.20 By the time the first traders entered Western North Carolina, the Cherokees had long since passed the primitive �Eden is Discovered / 39 stage in which they were satisfied with material possessions that were merely utilitarian. They were adding touches of beauty to the objects they made and the garments they wore. The women gathered roots and barks from which they steeped dyes of various rich colors and shades to lend aesthetic touches to their multi-purpose baskets. Sometimes, too, they made simple designs with combs on their pottery, and dyed feathers and even dressed skins gave variety and beauty to their clothes and to their ceremonial robes. To add to their personal appearance, the women combed their black hair with wooden or bone combs, rubbed it glossy with oil obtained from the abundant sumac, and fashioned it into a knot or club at the back of the head. Ornaments were made for both men and women from shells, sometimes cut into beads, and strung on thin, deerskin thongs or twisted grasses. Bracelets and neck pieces were fashioned from the metals (silver, gold, and the more plentiful copper) they mined in the hills. Additional fineries were now and then brought home by warriors lucky enough to slay enemies wearing them.21 Cherokee progress up the culture ladder was also evident in their religion. While traces of earlier beliefs in many spirits that entered both inanimate objects and animals lingered on in their myths, such beliefs had doubtless become to them only halftruths, and the nation had come to believe in a "Great Spirit," maker of all things. Belief in a future life existed, but what was to come to one after death seems not to have been a disturbing thought to them. Their reverence for the Great Spirit and their common prayers for blessings—most of them probably for material forms and immediate needs—were often expressed in religious dances that were beautiful in conception and stately and dignified in execution. Sometimes those participating in the dances were men only, sometimes both men and women, and sometimes women only. One of these women performances witnessed by a white traveler in Chota of the Over Hill Towns lasted for four days. The "foreigner"was not able to learn its purpose.22 Cherokee history and literature consisted of tales and myths accumulated over a long past and told and retold to each generation. The custom of absorbing groups and individuals from other tribes greatly enriched the fund of stories but has proved confusing to the modern historian attempting to see in them the trend of actual Cherokee religious beliefs. However, as a whole, the stories reveal vague, racial memories of other lands, �40 / Chapter Two HALL OF HISTORY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Cherokees developed many ritualistic ceremonies through a variety of dance forms. Some depicted battles. Some were religious. Participants often made their meanings vivid by the use of masks. Cherokee masks varied in size, shape, and expression's. Some, like the one with the exaggerated nose, were doubtless designed for humor. widely separated lands, of pride in heroes, of ancient hates and wars and battles. They reveal, too, the Cherokee's closeness to nature and record his primitive attempt to explain his world and the creatures in it, to fathom the creation of his mountain land, and to account for the strange natural formations. Some of these stories show a surprising tenderness of treatment, while others, like the Judaculla tales, are examples of man's universal love for exaggeration. Many tales also show the Cherokee's sense of humor, and it is entirely possible that groups of the old tales which modern man reads seriously and accepts as the Cherokee's superstition, brought roars of laughter when told evenings around the village fire by an expert storyteller. As with all primitive peoples, storytelling was a popular form of entertainment, and the old, familiar tales were constant favorites. Then, too, every returning warrior or hunter could be sure of an interested audience as he related his experiences with wild animals or with prowling bands of enemies during the weeks or even months spent in distant regions of Cherokee �Eden is Discovered / 41 country. The religious rituals and ceremonies and colorful dances furnished not only an outlet for religious emotion, but also a solemn social satisfaction. In addition, the Cherokees had many games and contests of skill in which individuals, towns, or clans participated. The outstanding athletic event was their ball game that has survived the inroads of the white man's civilization and today is played yearly in the age-old manner. How it originated no one knows, for its beginning fades into the obscurity of the distant past. It was played by two opposing teams representing two clans. It was—and still is—a rough and tumble tussle with almost no rules, and the players took whatever treatment was given them, returning it with interest if possible. At times of strained relations between two clans, their ball game assumed the form of group combat, and the feelings of the spectators seated or standing on the hillside ran high, while an occasional casualty occurred.23 By the time English speaking people discovered the hills of Western North Carolina, the Cherokee nation was a powerful people, happy and contented in their mountain homeland. In fact, so powerful were they that they could call themselves simply, but significantly, Yunwiya or Ani-Yunwiya, "The People" or "The Principal People." True, other nations had other names for them, designating them as Rickahockans or Rechahecrians,24 or more often usejJ a name which the English corrupted into Cherokee. This name, however, the People themselves did not recognize since it had been bestowred by tribes who were enemies. Several meanings have been given for the word "Cherokee." Dr. Swanton of the Smithsonian Institute suggests that it may be from a Muskogee word meaning "people of a different speech."25 A somewhat widely accepted meaning is cave or pit. If this origin of the word is accurate, it may have had reference to their mountain homeland. More probably it carried the still smarting sting of their ancient defeat when they depended in vain upon their pit-like trenches and their breastworks to ward off the attack of the Iroquois and the Delawares, a defeat kept alive in the fireside tales and in the jibes of their enemies. How long it took the Cherokees to achieve the spreading borders of their nation is not known. Nor can it be estimated with any degree of certainty how many centuries passed as they extended their homeland settlements south and east along the Middle rivers and into the present South Carolina and Georgia �42 / Chapter Two and into the Over Hill Country. The gradual process of settlement included driving any people they encountered out of the region and absorbing the remnants left. By 1540, when the curtain of antiquity was briefly drawn aside, they had not reached the later Lower Towns section. They had, however, attained more than a foothold in the Middle Towns area along the Valley and Hiwassee Rivers, with an undetermined number of scattered villages. They had a thriving settlement that the Spanish transcribed as Gau-ax-u-le or Guasili, almost certainly on the site of Peachtree Mound, five and a half miles east of the present Murphy. This seems to have been the largest settlement encountered by DeSoto within the present Western North Carolina.26 So it was, that as spring came over the mountains in 1540, trailing its robes of flashing color across the hillsides, the Cherokees could look with confidence to the future, and security could be taken for granted. �C H A P T E R T H R E E Two Races Meet X he serenity of the on-coming spring was shattered on a May morning in 1540 when an Indian runner, spent with his race along the ancient trails, stumbled into a mountain town with news that brought the men of the village hurrying to the council house. To them he poured out his fantastic tale. Stories reaching southern towns, he said, told that men, strange men of pale, ghastly hue and wearing clothes of metal, were traveling westward along the paths from the east. They were many and with them were strange beasts, some bigger than a bear (although not so stockily built), and on these some of the men sat. Others of the animals were small and black, grunting and squealing as they were driven westward. Through the lands of the nations to the east they had come, for no tribe could withstand them and the sharp, popping thunder that they hurled to slay opposing braves. One thing was certain—they were on the warpath, for they stole or destroyed crops. They were also forcing villagers to join them as "tomemes" or burdeners and as guides from town to town. Soon they would reach the land of the hills. The dire news was sent from scattered village to village, and men, women, and children stopped their tasks and play to listen in wonder, only half believing the outlandish tale, yet not daring to ignore it. Thus was the white man's coming heralded in Western North Carolina. The previous May, Hernando DeSoto, with a flotilla of seven ships carrying six hundred men, had landed in the proximity of the 43 �44 / Chapter Three CHEROKEE HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION Indian women patiently gathered feathers which were skillfully used in making a robe that was proudly worn by the head man on ceremonial occasions. Such a feather robe was made for the outdoor drama, Unto These Hills, which is presented each summer at Cherokee. present Tampa, Florida. As governor of Cuba, he was exercising his official prerogative of exploring and possessing any lands he might discover, together with whatever wealth they might contain. Earlier in the century, he had taken part in the Spanish conquest of Nicaragua and later, with Francisco Pizzaro, shared in the fabulous wealth taken from the proud Incas. Through the simple expedient of breaking their promise, they had killed the Inca ruler and devastated his vast empire of Peru, robbing the temples of their gold and silver. Surely in the mountains of North America, reasoned DeSoto and his Spaniards, similar treasures could be had for the taking. The army wintered with the Apalachee Indians in northwest Florida and learned of towering hills far to the west where lived many Indians. They learned of gold and silver taken from the �Two Races Meet / 45 ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE DeSoto and his soldiers, dad in plate armor, confront the Cherokee chief, who is wearing his ceremonial regalia. This dramatic event of 1540 is enacted effectively in the outdoor drama Unto These Hills. ground and of a mighty river toward the sunset. So in the spring DeSoto and his men hacked their way through the dense undergrowth of the forests to the Savannah River. After a devious circuit to the north and east, they turned west, and picking up an Indian trail, proceeded northwest. To the awed and frightened Indians through whose lands they passed, they must have seemed like an endless throng as they journeyed single-file or two, three, or four abreast, as the narrow trails allowed. At the bannered head rode DeSoto himself in his suit of mail, and following him were his three hundred horsemen. Behind them came a like number of footmen and laborers, while bringing up the rear was a herd of some two hundred hogs to insure a food supply. Lastly came more than three hundred captive Indians,burden bearers in chains. Near the vanguard were Indian guides, impressed in each village to conduct the army to the next town. One of these, captured in the present South Carolina, was a woman chief or "princess," Co-fi-tash-e, taken possibly to serve also as a hostage to prevent her people from attacking the �46 / Chapter Three invaders.1 With DeSoto were a few Spanish priests, who entertained the vague hope of converting the Indians along the way, but whose chief duties must have been to hear confessions and to absolve the men from constant sins of atrocities committed upon the hapless Indians, their villages, and their crops. DeSoto appointed one of his men as historian, and the account left by this scribe gives the name Cherokee, the first time it appeared in writing. He had heard it from the tribes to the east and in transcribing it to his alphabet, he spelled it Chalaque.2 It was left to the French of a later century to write it Cheraqui and to the even later English to perpetuate it as Cherokee. In due time the Spaniards reached Western North Carolina, entering from the present Georgia just east of Rabun Gap, and going by way of the present Highlands to Nikwasi on the site of the present Franklin, arriving there on May 26. In this region they came for the first time upon a tributary of the Mississippi River. In addition to the official record kept by Roderigo Ranjel, a short account was written by Louis Hernandez de Biedma. A third was written by "a gentleman of Elvas," probably Alvaro Fernandez. Later a fourth one was written by Garcilasco de la Vega, who got his material from what was told him by a member of the expedition. As a result, various routes have been given by historians. In 1936 Congress created a seven-member DeSoto Expedition Commission to determine from the original sources available the Spanish line of march from the coast of Florida to the Mississippi River and the route of return. This Commission, with Dr. John R. Swanton of the Smithsonian Institution as chairman, made use of the four accounts together with a map which the expedition had worked out. The Commission submitted its detailed report in 1939. With this as a guide, the North Carolina Department of Archives and History marked the one hundred mile journey through the state's western counties as it was traveled by DeSoto and his men.3 The mountain Indians treated their unwelcome guests with a kindness and respect that must have been wisely considered the better part of valor. Too, they must have been secretly elated and amused that it was in their territory that the captive "princess" made her escape, taking with her the priceless collection of pearls entrusted to her care and leaving the "foreigners" without a guide. From Nikwasi DeSoto pushed on over the mountains to the headwaters * of the Hiwassee River, to the site of the present �Two Races Meet / 47 Hayesville, and from there to the earlier mentioned Cherokee village of Gau-ax-u-le, probably near the present Murphy. This village, possibly like others along the route, he found partly deserted, for many terrified Cherokees had fled to the safety of the hills. Here at Gau-ax-u-le, if not earlier at Nikwasi, the impressive army was received by the Cherokees, who dared not refuse the demands for supplies of food for both men and horses issued by the uninvited visitors. Among the provisions given to the Spanish were little "dogs that do not bark." It has been suggested that these animals might have been oppossums, as unfamiliar to the Europeans as horses and hogs were to the Cherokees. Perhaps two days later DeSoto forged ahead to the site of the present Murphy and some fifteen miles farther northwestward into the present Polk County, Tennessee. From one of the villages he had sent out exploring parties in search of gold and silver. The men are reported to have returned with copper, possibly from the mines later known as the Ducktown mines.4 The uneasy Cherokees seem to have told the Spaniards only what was necessary and doubtless held out hopes for more success in discovering the coveted gold farther west, much farther west. Indeed, it must have been with relief that the Cherokee hosts saw the long procession of strange men and beasts disappearing into the land of their enemies toward the sunset. As they resumed their normal summer activities, they could not know that the security of their race was gone, that never again would the mountain Redmen be free from the ever-darkening and lengthening shadow of conquest and subjugation by an alien people. They could not foresee that their mountain land was to become a battleground for opposing nations of these Pale Faces in a bitter struggle for the possession of the continent. Twenty-seven years later Juan Pardo, an officer in charge of the Spanish fort on Port Royal Island, led an expedition organized by Florida's governor, Pedro Menendez de Aviles, into the Indian country where a fort or two had been built east of the Blue Ridge. With the discovery of gold and silver as his objective, Pardo led his forces from one of these forts into Western North Carolina, following approximately the route taken in 1540 by DeSoto. Even more demanding and ruthless than his predecessor, Pardo left death and destruction and terror in his wake. His men were moderately successful in their prospecting, locating limited amounts of gold and silver. For the next 125 �48 / Chapter Three years groups of Spaniards sporadically carried on mining operations both east and west of the Blue Ridge. A few of their shafts, tools, and coin dies have been found, but for obvious reasons they kept their mining activities a guarded secret; reports of their presence, however, reached the Cherokees and other tribes so that the first English explorers to the region were told of "white, bearded men," trespassers on Indian territory. 5 At this time on a distant island, even more important events were taking place, events that were destined to upset the pattern of living developed over the ages in the Western North Carolina mountains. About the same time as Pardo's expedition, England came to feel that if the Spanish in the south and the French in the north along the St. Lawrence River were to be checked in their greed for American possessions, the time had arrived to plant colonies on the vast English claims. These claims stretched from Florida northward to the Dutch and French territories and from the Atlantic Ocean westward to the Pacific or South Sea. Accordingly, on March 24, 1584, Queen Elizabeth granted to her courtier, Sir Walter Raleigh, a patent for "discovering and planting of new lands and Countries [sic]" throughout the English area unsettled by "Christian nations." The patent was good for six years and Raleigh set about his planting of settlers upon the land he called Virginia.6 In 1585 his first colonizing expedition landed on Roanoke Island on the North Carolina coast and built a palisaded village. But practically all the discouraged settlers returned to England on Sir Francis Drake's ships which put into harbor in 1586. In 1587 Raleigh sent a second expedition directed by John White. The mystery surrounding the fate of this little band of men, women, and children has never been solved. But its disappearance meant failure for Raleigh and his patent lapsed. Yet a beginning had been made. James I, breaking the extensive territory into two sections with a buffer zone of a hundred miles between, granted a patent to a company organized as the London Company, which in 1607 established a tiny settlement named Jamestown on the James River. To this tiny, struggling settlement reports of western mountains were made by the surrounding Indians. John Smith, during his stormy year in the colony, learned from Powhatan that far to the west were "mightie Mountaines [sic]." Some thirty-five years later, in the 1640's, Governor William Berkeley learned that to the west was "a huge mountaine within five �Two Races Meet / 49 days journey, and at the foot thereof great Rivers that run into a Great Sea, to which people come in ships [sic]."7 This report convinced Berkeley that what is now Western North Carolina bordered the South Sea and so was the long-sought passage to India. Enthusiastically Berkeley planned an expedition into the region with the two-fold purpose of locating the passage and of discovering gold and silver as he knew the Spanish had done. But, he wrote, he was hindered by "Unusual and continuous Raynes [sic]." The colony over which he ruled required much attention, and he became deeply involved in matters of politics until the years had sped by and he came to know that he would never make the journey himself. In 1649, however, the Virginia General Assembly offered grants of land and mining rights to persons discovering new territory and minerals in the uncharted area. There is no record of anyone taking advantage of this offer. But Governor Berkeley could not forget his dream, and in 1670 he equipped and sent out an explorer, a German physician named John Lederer. With him were several aides and guides. But when at the end of a few days, these men became frightened and turned back, Lederer went on with only one Indian guide and companion. In time he reached the .eastern fringe of the Cherokee country and may have been the first Englishman to see the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge."* But he did not cross them. He learned, however, that over these mountains lived the Rickahockans, or Cherokees, whose land was "great waves." He was told also of bearded white men not far distant. These men he thought to be Spaniards, and the waves he interpreted to be those of the South Sea, confirming Berkeley's belief that in this direction lay the passage to India. He could get no information about gold or silver but was told that from the mountains the Indians got a substance with which they painted their faces.8 During the year of Lederer's trip, another physician made the first of several journeys into the Indian country. He was Henry Woodward, a young Englishman lately come from England, who had thrown in his lot with the settlers on the Ashley River. It was a tiny settlement that was to become known as Charles Town and that was to have a direct effect upon Western North Carolina. What Henry Woodward's reasons were for risking his life in the Indian country he does not say, but he may have had several. He was young. There �50 / Chapter Three was the thrill of new adventure and doubtless the hope of finding gold, for he was sure to have heard of the Spanish gold expeditions. And judging form the records he left, there seems to have been a genuine interest in the native settlers and a concern for the future possibilities of land. It was largely due to the good will toward the English which he was able to build up in the tribes and nations he visited that the colony of South Carolina was able later to secure trade treaties. Among those nations willing to make such agreements were the Cherokees, or Chorkees as Woodward spelled the name. With the delight of a true explorer, Woodward viewed the "brave, new world" through which he passed and wrote enthusiastically to an English friend, "I have discovered a Country so delitious, pleasant, and fruitfull, yt were it cultivated, doubtless it would prove a second Paradise [SIC]."' The motive that brought the earliest known travelers into Western North Carolina was trade with the Indians. From the time that frightened Indians watched from behind protecting trees as the pale, grotesquely garbed Englishmen landed on American shores, the Indians and the colonists were engaged in a struggle for a continent—a struggle that was to last some 250 years. Yet during the first hundred of those years each race became increasingly dependent upon the other for trade. At first, the Indians brought their furs and pelts on the backs of runners called burdeners to the white man's towns and villages. In the same manner they took back to their own villages the superior tools of the white man, guns and ammunition, cloth and trinkets. But some of the tribes were constantly shifting their living places, and as time went on others became increasingly adverse to going to the white settlements. Many Virginia merchants then found it profitable to devote their entire time to the Indian trade since they could sell the furs to good advantage on the English markets. Thus they began the practice of supplying white traders with goods and sending them into the Indian territory over the age-old trails, now firmly packed into trading paths by the bare or moccasined feet of hundreds of burdeners. These men heard of tribes farther to the west, and so the lure of profits enticed traders into the Cherokee country of Western North Carolina. In 1673 General Abraham Wood, a prominent Indian trader in charge of Fort Henry near the present Petersburg, Virginia, �Two Races Meet / 51 employed James Needham, a young Englishman who had recently come from the mother country to Charles Town where he had built his home. Needham was to go into the unknown territory and "explore beyond the mountains" and to chart the rivers. General Wood furnished him with supplies and horses, eight Indian guides, and one of his own servants, possibly an indentured laborer, Gabriel Arthur, as a companion. Needham was an able, promising young man, apparently eager to make the exploration. The little party followed the trading path westward to the Yadkin River, which they followed southward, possibly into the Catawba country east of the Blue Ridge. At some undetermined point they turned west and crossed the range. Three possible routes have been traced by historians. The men may have veered west from the Yadkin, entering Western North Carolina along the same path that was later used by Daniel Boone. In that case, they would have crossed the site of the present Boone and picked up one of two trails leading to the Watauga River and then on to the Over Hill Towns on the Little Tennessee River.10 They may have gone farther south in the Catawba country, however, and selected a crossing at Swannanoa Gap where an ancient trail led over the mountains. In so doing, they would have passed through the southern part of the present Asheville and, picking up a trail from there, traveled west to the present Canton and Pigeon River. A trail there would have led them west to the Middle Cherokee Towns and on to the Over Hill Towns. Again, they may have continued in a southerly direction until they turned west by way of Hickory Nut Gap, passing through the present Henderson County, going up the French Broad to Hominy Creek and along it (over land now occupied by the Enka Corporation Plant) to the Pigeon River and west to the Middle and Over Hill Towns.11 By whatever route they traveled, they were in one of the Indian towns by mid-summer. The Indians of this village had never seen a white man, and they gazed in wonder at these washed-out specimens of the human race and with even more amazement at the strange beast they had brought with them. They made the men tie the one horse that had withstood the rigors of the trip to a stake in the center of the village so that all might gaze at the freak of nature. After exploring for several months Needham returned to Fort Henry, taking several Cherokees with him and leaving Arthur as a hostage charged with the responsibility of learning the Cherokee language and of fostering good relations between the Cherokees �52 / Chapter Three and the English. Needham and his party reached the fort and, getting fresh supplies, set out again for the mountains. But he did not arrive at his destination. One of the Indians, nicknamed John by the whites, may have had misgivings about this friendship with the white men and he killed Needham on a lonely stretch of the trade route, taking the horse and what goods he could. He charged his Cherokee companions to see that the same fate was meted out to Arthur. Back in their village, the Indians set about carrying out those orders. They tied Arthur to a stake and piled brush around him. Then two Westoe slaves began to strike a fire. At that dramatic moment the chief arrived, saw what was happening, and in anger shot the slaves and took Arthur for his own personal slave. He seemed to have treated the young man as his son. With a hunting party, Arthur was taken by the chief into Kentucky and was thus probably the first Englishman to see the famous "Land of Kaintuck." He was later taken through South Carolina and the Lower Towns of the Cherokee to eastern South Carolina on a raiding expedition against enemy tribes. On another occasion he was a member of a revenge party sent into Florida. Among his various experiences was also that of being captured by a band of Shawnees. But Arthur had by this time learned much about Indians and was able to gain the good will of his captors, who set him free and put him on the trading path back to the Over Hill Towns. It was a year before he could get the consent of the chief to return home. Then the chief announced that he would accompany the white man to Virginia. After a series of hairbreadth escapes from raiding parties of unfriendly Indians during which the two were separated, both reached Fort Henry. There Arthur related his experiences to General Wood, who reported them to his superiors.12 That record is disappointingly meager, for the journal that Needham kept was lost. It is safe to assume that Arthur could not read or write, and little came of this expedition into the mountains. It was almost twenty years before other Englishmen are known to have entered Western North Carolina. Preceding and during this quiet interlude events were taking place in England and along the American coast that insured trade with the Cherokees—trade agreements which General Wood had complained received no encouragement from his superiors and for which young Needham had given his life. In 1629 the King of England, Charles I, with bland unconcern for the Indians, gave the entire Cherokee nation, with the exception of some hunting grounds to the north, to a friend. This grant was issued to Sir �Two Races Meet / 53 Robert Heath, the attorney-general, and it conveyed to him a vast tract lying between the thirty-first and thirty-sixth degrees of latitude and stretching westward from the Atlantic Ocean "so farre as the Continent extends itselfe[sic]." Thus the Heath grant was between the territory of the London Company's tract, to which the once over-all name of Virginia had by now been limited, southward toward Florida. In its westward sweep it included practically all of present North Carolina, Through this gift, Heath became one of the most extensive land owners of all times. In return for this royal favor, he was to plant settlers in the new colony, which in the charter was named Carolina or Carolana, honoring Charles by using the Latinized form of his name. But Heath brought no colonists from England to his rambling estate, and shortly after 1660 the grant was declared void. Fortunately for the peace of mind of the Cherokees, they never learned of this kingly grant, but the ghost of this gift later arose to haunt and harry the British government and was not quieted until 1769.13 The idea of forming a new colony was not easily crushed. The newly crowned Charles II, searching for a suitable, yet inexpensive method of rewarding his friends active in restoring him to the English throne, bethought of this vast American territory. Accordingly in 1663 he presented the former Heath tract to eight of his Lords. They were to be known as Proprietors of the region and were to make settlements, select governors, establish a nobility, and, aided by an assembly of elected colonists, otherwise rule the colony. The proprietors were to be answerable to the Committee of Trade and Plantations which was set up in England under the King and Council. Almost at once the Proprietors found that 'they wanted more land and presented their reasons for an extention of the grant. From 1609, when John Smith sent a search party from Jamestown into the territory to the south, hoping to locate Raleigh's vanished colonists, Virginia trappers had been going into the region west of Albemarle Sound. They had been followed by occasional private traders and now and then by a company of soldiers sent to avenge Indian attacks on Virginia settlements. Just when the first Englishman decided to remain in this land is not known, but by 1648 a few had acquired land from the Indians along the Chowan River. From time to time other hardy pioneers trekked into the region and settled around Albemarle Sound. By 1663 there was an unrecorded number of these settlers, but a large enough group existed to attract attention to the area now called �54 / Chapter Three Albernarle. The northern boundary of the 1663 grant passed south of these tiny settlements and left them isolated since they did not come within the Virginia boundaries. Therefore, in 1665 Charles II, by means of another grant to the eight Proprietors, extended the northern boundary of their lands by half a degree latitude and the southern boundary by two degrees. Thus was the colony of Carolina established and the way paved for its mountain section to be opened to the white man.14 The coast of the northern section of Carolina offered few harbors suitable for populating the colony with English immigrants. In 1667 a settlement was made on the Cape Fear River but was shortly afterward abandoned.15 However, in 1670, a band of English colonists formed a little settlement on the Ashley River in the southern half of the colony. Almost from the first the village grew, and in 1679 it was moved to the peninsula between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers and named Charles Town. With its harbor unhampered by the reefs which discouraged mariners from landing along the coast farther north, this settlement grew and became the chief Carolina port of entry for English ships. Relatives and friends of the settlers arrived on every vessel, and ambitious young men, some of them younger sons in families of wealth and estate, came to cast their lots with the forwardlooking colonists. Soon there was a pleasing bustle of activity and an infectious spirit of optimism in the village. With the earlier Jamestown experiences to guide them, the colonists set about adjusting themselves and their way of life to the conditions of an American frontier. They enlisted the aid of friendly Indians in learning to cultivate tobacco on the extensive holdings they cleared along the Ashley and Cooper Rivers. Then they looked about for other crops and products that could be marketed in the mother country in exchange for English goods needed for a degree of convenience and comfort in their new homes. Like all of the earliest settlements, Charles Town was surrounded on three sides by Indian tribes, and the safety of the village and plantations depended upon gaining and maintaining friendly relations with these natives. Happily, they discovered that could be accomplished at a handsome profit, and from the first, trade with the Indians became an important business. So flourishing did the town become that it was designated as the capital of the colony of Carolina in 1691 (or more accurately, perhaps, as the home of the governor appointed by the Proprietors). Previous to 1670, the elected General Assembly of Carolina, �Two Races Meet / 55 first convened in 1665, met in the district called Albernarle where the first settlements in the vast new colony were steadily if slowly growing, largely through newcomers from Virginia. In this area, too, the first colonial governor, William Drummond, resided as did several of his successors. Taking his title from the region, each was called the Governor of Albernarle. The proprietors hoped as soon as practicable to break their territory into three counties, Albernarle in the north, Clarenden in the Cape Fear area, and Craven in the south. They apparently did not take the shore line into consideration and seemed to anticipate a gradual growth from north to south. Instead, the first attempts at settlement in the center region failed and Charles Town became the second settlement.16 With one assembly for the two widely separated groups of colonists, problems of a physical nature arose, for it proved almost impossible for assembly members in one area to attend sessions of the General Assembly held in the other. To alleviate this situation, after 1691 separate assemblies were established and Governor Philip Ludwell was told that "If you find it needfull you our governor are hereby empowered to appoint a Deputy Governor of North Carolina[sic]. "17 Governor Ludwell did, indeed, find this "needfull," and several deputies served in Albernarle during the following years. These officers were directly responsible to the appointed governor rather than to the Proprietors. The title North Carolina used in the permission given by the Proprietors was unofficial, but had been locally in use for some years. By 1700 it was appearing in reports and accounts recorded by colonial writers. In 1710 Edward Hyde, deputy governor, was chosen by the Proprietors as full governor of North Carolina although he did not receive this title until 1712. For that reason one of these dates has usually been given as the date of the separation of the two parts of the colony into North and South Carolina. But in either case both areas made up the colony of Carolina until 1729 when the Proprietors, with the exception of the heirs of Lord Carteret, sold their territorial rights to the English government and the colony became a royal colony. Then one of the first official changes to be made was the separation of the territory into the two distinct colonies of North and South Carolina. Thus the mountain section, which had been a part of Carolina, now became a part of North Carolina. Nonetheless, for many years before and after that separation Western North Carolina was influenced not by the laws or government of its own colony, but by the government of South Carolina. �C H A P T E R F O U R Along the Trading Paths Jj 7 the time General Wood sent James Needham and Gabriel Arthur across the Blue Ridge, Virginia merchants and traders were carrying on a thriving trade with the Catawba Indians in Carolina, just east of the mountains. With the way now opened by the travels of Dr. Henry Woodward, accompanied on one of his journeys by young Needham, Charles Town took steps to link the tribes to the south and east of the Catawbas in bonds of friendship and trade with the southern port. Accordingly, trade treaties were made in which, for a promise of protection against their enemies, tribal chiefs agreed to funnel their furs and pelts to Charles Town and to allow only Carolina traders in their territory. In 1684 such a treaty was signed with the marks made by eight chiefs of the Lower Towns,1 thus determining future trade relations between the Cherokees and Charles Town. To strengthen these new relations and to cast about for gold deposits, James Moore, later to be governor of Carolina, and Maurice Matthews made a trip of good will into the Lower Cherokee country. However, hearing of mining operations being carried on by the Spaniards just twenty miles away from an Indian village, they decided that it would not be expedient to go into the mountain section of the Cherokee nation.2 The Indians living in the Middle and Over Hill Towns learned of the white man's goods that could be had for making little marks on a white man's piece of paper. They learned, too, that such 56 �Along the Trading Paths / 57 ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE English traders in the 1700*s brought glass beads into the Indian country. Shell ornaments were then discarded, and women fashioned the colorful beads into many forms of adornment. This woman at the Oconaluftee Village at Cherokee is carrying on the tradition of her ancestors. marks might bring the white man's aid against their enemies. In 1693, therefore, a group of Cherokees, including several mountain chiefs, appeared in Charles Town with a request for protection against eastern tribes attacking the eastern border of the Cherokee nation. Some sort of promise seems to have been given to the chiefs, although with no official sanction, and there is no evidence that any active help was extended to the Cherokees at that time. A basis for a trade treaty had been laid, however, and shortly afterward Cherokee chiefs representing all sections of the nation signed a trade treaty with South Carolina.3 About this time the colony took the first step in transferring lucrative trade with the Indians from the control of private individuals to the colony itself. This process was fully justified in view of the fact that in 1703 the estimated population of all Carolina numbered not more than four thousand white men, women, and children, with perhaps only about eight hundred available for military duty. 4 Traders dealing with the Indians and �58 / Chapter Four going into their territories wielded immense influence with the tribes and their leaders. They could, if they were unscrupulous in their dealings or imprudent in their words, endanger every white settlement. In 1707, then, South Carolina began its task of assuming full control of this important trade by establishing a nine-member Board of Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 5 later reduced to five members. It also appointed for each tribe a Factor or Superintendent, who was to spend at least ten months of each year in the Indian country as supervisor of the trade and traders already in the area and of those appointed as his aides.6 The first Factor to the Cherokees was Colonel Theopholus Hastings. He made his home on the Tugalo River in the Lower Towns, and was paid two hundred pounds a year, a salary later increased to three hundred pounds. He was given two aides, John Sharpe and Sam Muckleroy, but later asked for and got more men. He served until the end of December, 1717, when he was transferred to the Creeks.7 Another step toward trade with the Indians was taken with the building of Fort Moore on the Savannah River near the site of the present Augusta, Georgia, in 1716. It was both an armed fort and a trading post, and under an agreement with the Cherokees (a treaty which had been worked out by James Moore and the Cherokee representative, Charite Hayge), South Carolina was to transport goods from Charles Town to the fort, while the Indians were to make new trading paths connecting the fort with their old trails. They were to furnish burdeners to bring furs bought by the traders and the agent to the fort. In addition, the Indians were to carry back to the traders the coveted manufactured articles brought from Charles Town by slow river transportation, by hired Indian burdeners, or by pack horses over a land route often made dangerous by roving bands of unfriendly tribes.8 On July 18, 1716, the Board of Commissioners ordered that "the twenty-one Burdeners, that brought down the bever be paid for that service and for carrying the Goods which we are to send by them to our Factor at the Charikees each, one Yard and a Half of blew Duffields for matchcoats, and a quarter Yard Strouds, for Flaps [sic]/'9 As time went on, the burdeners were endangered by marauding bands that attacked the slowly moving human caravan. Often the result was loss of goods and occasionally loss of life. The fort was opened in March, 1716, and by the end of that year some ten thousand dollars worth of goods had been brought there from Charles Town. During 1717 fine furs carried to the fort on the backs of ninety-one burdeners from Western North Carolina �Along the Trading Paths / 59 brought almost fifteen hundred pounds sterling to the English.10 The demand for the white man's goods rose rapidly in Western North Carolina. Cherokee hunters and trappers exchanged their furs for manufactured goods at a bartering ratio worked out under the terms of the treaty by the Board of Commissioners. A Cherokee purchaser paid 35 skins for a gun, 16 for a blanket, 30 for a broadcloth coat (provided it was laced), 14 for a callico petticoat for his wife, and 2 for a red girdle for himself. Mirrors and teakettles were soon in such demand in the mountain country that traders were allowed to charge whatever they could get. Even at the high prices some traders asked, the demand exceeded the supply.11 Cherokee chiefs were soon complaining to the Factor and the Board of Commissioners of the hardships endured by their burdeners on the long trip to the fort. A few Virginia traders were in the area east of the Blue Ridge doing business with pack horses, and the chiefs asked for a similar arrangement with South Carolina. Feeling that it was unsafe to send pack horse trains into the mountains, the Board at first refused the chiefs' requests. By 1718, after several Cherokee burdeners met death on the trading path, the petitions became too insistent to be longer denied, and the Board yielded. The entire trading regulations were then revised. Under the new order, the colony licensed traders for a fee of eight pounds per year and the posting of a bond of a hundred pounds currency, later raised to two hundred. Traders were given credit at the fort. There they purchased a supply of goods to be transported to the Indian country, at first partly by burdeners, but as soon as they could procure horses, entirely by pack train. Then the trails were widened where necessary into trading paths over which heavilyladen horses could take the wares into the chief Cherokee towns, where, from the storehouses, traders could distribute them throughout the nation.12 The earliest of these pack trains made use of the old trail from the Lower Towns to the Middle Towns. It was the trail, perhaps older than the towns themselves, traveled a century and a half earlier by DeSoto and his Spaniards.13 The stout little ponies used for this work would carry from 150 to 200 pounds each and, over favorable terrain and with good forage, could travel twenty miles a day. Over the narrow, rugged, densely forested mountain sections the progress of the trains was much slower. John William Gerard deBrahm, transporting supplies for the building of Fort Loudon in 1756, reported that in the mountains six miles was sometimes a day's �60 / Chapter Four journey.14 William Byrd, writing in 1728, mentions seeing a pack train of a hundred horses and fifteen men going south on the trading path from Virginia to the Catawba country.15 As the demands for goods increased, these trains became longer, and James Adair tells of seeing a train consisting of 360 horses leaving from a South Carolina fort and heading for the Chickasaw country.16 The horses were in the charge of drivers, each of whom had one or more helpers, usually boys. Each driver was in charge of a section of the train, often destined for a particular trader. At the command of a leading driver, the train started, the horses going in single file, while the drivers cracked long, leather whips to get their charges in line. Each horse wore a bell, and as the snake-like procession jogged along a comparatively smooth stretch of the trading path, the discordant jangling of the bells made a fitting accompaniment for the men's coarse shouts. Continuing its trading plans, South Carolina built the second of its western forts in 1718. It was Fort Congaree on the Congaree River near the present Columbia, and it greatly shortened the distance from a supply station to Western North Carolina. As time went on, privately constructed forts appeared, some of which, like Gowdy's at Ninety-Six, were also trading posts and aided in the rapid transportation of goods into the mountain section. From Gowdy's a path extended through the present Spartanburg area, entering the mountains near the present Tryon and going westward to the Middle Towns.17 The fort nearest to the mountain Cherokees was Fort Prince George, built opposite the town of Keowee in the Lower Cherokee section. But it was a much later one constructed in 1753 that was destined to play a far grimmer role in the affairs of the Cherokees than that of supplying them with goods. The first generation of traders going into Western North Carolina became almost a race unto themselves. Those arriving before South Carolina made the Indian trade a colonial monopoly, purchased their goods from eastern merchants, set their own prices, and got what they could on the Charles Town market for their furs. After the appointment of a Factor, traders were assigned stations, received their supplies from the fort, and were required to observe the price list sent by the Board. In receiving their licenses from South Carolina, they assumed the duty of promoting peace and good will between �Along the Trading Paths / 61 the races, of being fair and honest in all their dealings with the Cherokees, of not selling firearms to enemies of the Cherokees, of buying no Cherokee slaves, and of letting no whiskey come into their territory. Both the traders' lives and their livelihood were under the supervision of the Factor. Of necessity these men isolated themselves from their own race, making their homes in Cherokee villages. They learned about the Cherokees and the Cherokee language. Although they never forgot that they were white men and remained loyal to the colony and to England in all cases of trouble, they adopted enough of the Cherokee customs and manners to make life in Western North Carolina livable and at times very pleasant. Practically without exception, they married Cherokee women. In this way the traders played a unique role in the affairs of the colony. They were in fact, interpreters for both races. To the Cherokees they represented South Carolina and, indeed, all Englishmen (at first, doubtless, all white men). To the Board of Commissioners and to the Factors they furnished needed information concerning the Cherokees and their attitudes. They also reported on the activities of the French, both west of the Cherokee nation and within it. They were thus able to advise the home colony on its Indian policy. After 1750 the tension between the colony and the Cherokees made future trouble seem certain. The early traders, now old in years and in service, pleaded with the Board of Commissioners, the Legislature, and Governor Glenn for a course of action that they felt would lead to a restoration of the friendly relations existing from 1716 to about 1743. Those were the years of closest contact and good will between the races and the period during which trade flourished, a trade bringing to South Carolina an annual harvest of 200,000 furs.18 Some of these men had come into Western North Carolina as private traders, identifying themselves for the rest of their lives with the Cherokees. Cornelius Dougherty is accredited by most historians as being the first, going into the territory from Virginia in 1690. That date may be too early, and it is possible that Robert Bunning preceded him, if Dougherty was accurate in a statement implying that.19 In any case, these two traders were joined by James Beamer, Ludovick Grant, and other men with a desire to carry out the responsibilities of their positions. Still later others came, as did James Adair, and as new trading paths were opened from newly built forts, others, like Richard �62 / Chapter Four Pearis from Try on, arrived to serve the Indians.20 Now and then traders from Virginia and later from Georgia also entered Western North Carolina, purchasing licenses from South Carolina for the privilege of trading with the Cherokees. William Byrd voiced the opinion of many of his fellow Virginians when he bitterly complained of the license requirement and of the fact that the traders from his colony had to make the long trip to South Carolina to secure the permits.21 With some exceptions that were deeply regretted by the Factor and the other traders, this first generation of white men dealing directly with the Cherokees lived up to their obligations and gained the respect and confidence of the Indians. The type of man attracted to the out-door life of a trader and to the Cherokee life style could not be expected to be interested in the art of writing. But with the goods sent to the ''Factor at the Charikees [sic]" went writing paper and ink powder. He sent reports and wrote letters to the Board of Commissioners, while traders wrote letters when the occasion arose.22 One trader, however, had both the desire and the ability to leave a record of the Cherokee nation as he had come to know it, and to his History of The American Indians today's historian owes a debt of gratitude. This author was James Adair, one of the most influential of the traders. He was Irish, a member of the powerful Fitzgerald family, Adair—or Adare— being the name of the ancient family estate. He was a younger son and arrived in Charles Town in 1735. Deeply interested in the surrounding Indian tribes, Adair seems to have taken up trading almost at once and in 1736 entered Western North Carolina. With a background of learning and culture, he was by nature forthright and honest and had a genuine respect for the Cherokees. From their chiefs and headmen, who became his friends, he was able to learn their traditions and myths, their forms of government, and their moral and religious beliefs and practices. For the rest of his life he was a staunch supporter of the Cherokees, even though he fought them when they joined the French in the bloody struggle known as the French and Indian War.23 In 1721 chiefs from Western North Carolina joined a group of Indian delegates representing thirty-seven villages at a council called by Governor Francis Nicholson of Charles Town in South Carolina. There they signed a new treaty in which new regulations governing trade were agreed upon as needed to curb evils arising with the expansion of trade. Pressed by the colonial �Along the Trading Paths / 63 government, the Indians also agreed to determine a definite boundary line, clarifying the eastern limit of their country. By this treaty the Indians lost a goodly strip of hunting territory to the whites, but the lost land was farther east than any portion of Western North Carolina. At this same meeting the Cherokees approved the presence of the Factor, his aides, and white traders in their lands and agreed to elect one of their headmen as nominal head of and spokesman for the entire Cherokee nation. A chief with the unpronounceable name of Wrosetasatow was elected to this honor, becoming the first Cherokee in all the long history of the race to rule over the entire nation.24 During the entire trading period, despite treaty safeguards, it took the combined efforts of trader, Commissioners, and loyal chiefs to maintain a spirit of good will conducive to carrying on trade to the mutual satisfaction of the races. In 1725, in answer to letters of appeal and protest, the Board of Commissioners sent Colonel George Chicken, a member ot that Board, into the Cherokee nation to report on conditions. Colonel Chicken, familiar with Indians and Indian affairs, made a thorough inspection. In his report he recommended the revoking of some licenses, gave the names of certain traders operating without licenses from South Carolina, and asked that several traders be put on probation of good behavior. From Keowee in the Lower Towns to Great Tellico in the Over Hill Towns he went, talking to the chiefs, hearing their complaints, and telling them of the complaints lodged against their people. His presence, tact, and diplomacy accomplished much, and the renewed loyalty of the Cherokee was reflected in an increase in trade with South Carolina. There followed several years of harmony between the races.25 Forces were at work in Western North Carolina, however, that brought concern to thoughtful traders and chiefs alike. Some of these forces were inherent in the business of trading itself. By 1730, the demand for the white man's goods was coming from every Cherokee village, however remote. Guns, hoes and axes, knives and hatchets, blankets and cloth, pots and pans had become necessities, and the Cherokees were gradually adopting parts of the white man's dress. This swelling trade meant that more drivers and their helpers were needed to man the everlengthening trains and that more traders and their aides must live in the Cherokee nation. These factors, in turn, meant that South Carolina, in its attempt to meet the demand, was forced to issue licenses to �64 / Chapter Four traders without too fine a regard for their abilities or their moral characters. In time, drivers and their helpers were hired whose only recommendation was that they were willing to make trips for the money offered. Every year increased the number of white men heading westward along the trading paths into Western North Carolina. They were now men of assorted abilities and business ethics. The inevitable result was the gradual lowering of the earlier high standards of trading and the slow growth of unscrupulous practices. Unsavory dealings were not, of course, confined to the whites. Cherokees sometimes pilfered or openly robbed a pack train, and those working with the trains often demanded their pay at the beginning of the trip only to desert it along the way. Indian trappers and hunters, too, shirked in the slow process of preparing their furs; yet they asked as much for their inferior products as traders were giving for perfect furs. There were even times when traders complained that the Cherokees refused to bring them any furs.26 The situation was further complicated by the growing influence of the French in Western North Carolina. Even in 1725 Colonel Chicken had found that influence rather strong in the Middle Towns. Because of the explorations in the sixteenth century of John Verrazzano along the Atlantic coast and those of Jacques Cartier farther north, France had laid claim to much of the North American continent. Early in the following century there were French settlements along the St. Lawrence River. Checked in their southward advance along the Atlantic coast by the English claims and by the Spanish occupation of Florida, the French explored lands south of the Great Lakes and the regions farther west. French trappers and missionaries roamed over a wide territory. On one of his trips Jean Nicolet discovered the upper Mississippi River and explored the area around it. Sieur de la Salle, on his exploratory travels, discovered the Ohio River. In 1673, the very year that Needham and Arthur made an English contact with the Cherokees of Western North Carolina, Louis Joliet and Jacques Marquette were drifting down the Mississippi to the west of them (actually in territory covered by the Carolina grant which extended to the Pacific Ocean.) Nine years later at the mouth of the Mississippi River, La Salle took possession in the name of France of that mighty stream together with all territory drained by its tributaries, a region so vast as to be beyond the �Along the Trading Paths / 65 imagination of the colonists of any nation. All of Western North Carolina lying west of the Blue Ridge was included in this French claim. With a definite claim now established, France allowed her trappers and missionaries to roam at will in any or all sections of the area, and in time these men came into contact with all of the tribes and nations occupying land east of the Mississippi River. The next step was to establish trade relations with as many of the tribes as possible. With their ability to learn the various Indian languages, to take up Indian ways of living, and to ingratiate themselves into the favor of chiefs and headmen, the French were soon sending traders into many of the Indian territories. In order to protect their trading interests and to maintain their claims to the region, the French government gave commands for the building of forts, and one by one a string of military and trading posts arose, extending from the present Erie, Pennsylvania, southwestward to the newly established Mobile, Alabama. In 1714 Fort Toulouse was erected near what is now Montgomery, Alabama. From it the French could and did transport goods into Western North Carolina. By 1730 French traders were appearing in the mountains in alarming numbers. These French traders, like the English, were there on claims of their government and had come to stay. Simply by virtue of their location—a location that had served them well in the past—the Cherokees now became the pawns of two opposing white governments. They were swayed by promises or considerations shown first by one and then the other of these foreign nations. There followed, after 1730, a period of continuous fluctuation on the part of the Cherokees, a period of great bitterness toward one or the other of the encroaching peoples, a period of alliances and treaties made only to be broken, a period of utter bewilderment and confusion. All of these shifting moods brought sharp upward or equally sharp downward swings in the trade with South Carolina. Unlike practically all other frontier regions in America, Western North Carolina was never out of touch with the more populous and settled sections in the East until after the Revolutionary War. The Indian trade kept open a constant and active line of communication with Charles Town and through it with England itself. But like all other frontier regions, Western North Carolina attracted colorful characters and had its quota of men coming into the mountains for exploitation and adventure �66 / Chapter Four THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION These native Americans were taken to London in 1730 by Sir Alexander Cuming. There they created a sensation. Dressed in the latest English style, they were presented to King George II, As a token of the loyalty of their people, they gave him an oppossum "crown," four enemy scalps, and f i f e feathers. The youngest of the group was Attakullakulla, who became the greatest of all Cherokee chiefs. along with its share of dreamers aquiver with grandiose schemes of accomplishment. In this category is Sir Alexander Cuming. As an English lawyer, Cuming had come to Charles Town on a trip involving banking business and had stayed to indulge in several business ventures of his own. He was always alert to the call of opportunity. It had become evident by 1730 that the salutary effects of Colonel Chicken's visit to the Cherokees were wearing thin, and there was a possibility of the nation making an alliance with the Creeks and the French. The Board of Commissioners then accepted Cuming*s offer to go into Western North Carolina as a self-appointed ambassador of the King of England. In late March, accompanied by Colonel Chicken and several traders, he entered the mountains from the Lower Towns. Stopping briefly at Nikwasi on March 26 to order all chiefs and headmen of the nation to assemble there by April 3, Cuming �Along the Trading Paths I 67 passed on over the spring-clad hills to the villages on the Tellico and Little Tennessee Rivers. Along the way he made friends with Cherokee chiefs and gathered strange flowers and specimens of rock to take back to England. As he turned east again, his retinue steadily increased until it must have resembled a primitive caricature of an Elizabethan procession; Indians of all ranks joined him to form a long queue winding over the rough, tortuous trading path to Nikwasi. The Cherokees were eager to witness the colorful ceremonies that they knew would take place. But the traders were filled with misgivings as they recalled what had transpired at Keowee, where Cuming had arrived on March 23 and, without benefit of invitation but armed with pistols, had boldly walked into the council house containing some three hundred Cherokees in conference. For this arrogant display of bad manners and unpardonable breach of Indian etiquette, Ludovick Grant, a veteran trader, had later upbraided Cuming and had learned with horror that the Englishman had planned to fire the building and to guard the entrance against escape if the Indians resented his intrusion. Of this detail, however, the Cherokees were happily unaware. They were also unaware of the scheme that Cuming may have had even then of planting a colony of perhaps a million unwanted European Jews on a vast tract of land in their territory. At the village of Joree the procession was met by both Indian and white dignitaries, including traders, and escorted the few miles into the awaiting Nikwasi and to the council house, where a two-day celebration was begun. That night the gleeful Cuming recorded in his Journal, "This was a Day of Solemnity, the greatest that ever was seen in the Country [sic]." One feature of the ceremonies was the impressive rites by which Moytoy of Great Tellico was raised from the rank of chief to that of headman. As Moytoy was crowned with a red dyed oppossum cap, symbol of his new authority over his fellow Cherokees, Cuming's imagination reached out for a use to which he might put the ritual. He found it.27 After the crowning of Moytoy and the slow progress of the peace pipe from one to another of the three hundred assembled in the council house, the moment for which Cuming had made the long trip came. In a pompous speech he brought the greetings and love of King George to these, his loyal subjects, and he climaxed his words by proposing a toast to the great English Overlord of the Cherokees. He suggested that, to show their allegiance, they �68 / Chapter Four kneel before him, the king's representative. A tense moment followed during which every white man present except the eloquent Cuming felt sure that nothing short of a riot could ensue. The Cherokees were a proud people. Never, in all their long history, had they acknowledged allegiance to any foreign country. In all their relation with the colonial governments they had conferred and made treaties as an independent nation dealing with foreign nations. Perhaps it was the personal charm, together with the sheer audacity of the speaker that hypnotized the chiefs. At any rate, they came forward, knelt before Cuming, the self-appointed ambassador, and (with good whiskey of the white man) drank a toast to "their" king. Cuming then suggested that they present him with the oppossum cap lately used in their ceremony , in order that he in turn might present it to King George as a token of Cherokee acknowledgment of the English ruler as their king. Again the chiefs agreed. But Cuming went still farther. He requested that he be allowed to select several prominent Cherokees to accompany him on a forthcoming trip to England so that they might present the crown to King George in person. Once more they agreed. Perhaps in making his Journal entry, Cuming had been right, after all. Certainly for the Cherokees it was a "Day of Solemnity," and surely nothing comparable to it had ever taken place in Western North Carolina.28 Cuming selected six men, a seventh joined him in Charles Town, and with the Cherokee party he set sail for England on the man-of-war Fox, arriving at Dover on June 6. In London, where they were entertained at the expense of the government, these Cherokees from the Carolina mountains created something of a sensation. They were taken to see places of interest with stress on the military and naval might of the island country, and they were the guests of prominent Englishmen, even posing for their group portrait. But the high point of the sojourn came when, dressed in the "civilized habit" of knee breeches, lace-and ruffle-trimmed shirts, white stockings, and shoes adorned with silver buckles, they were presented to his Majesty, King George II.29 Attakullakulla, the youngest of the group and later to be an outstanding chief, made a speech to the king and either he or Cuming himself presented the English ruler with the oppossum crown, four enemy scalps, and five eagle feathers as symbols of Cherokee loyalty. What the king thought of his self-appointed "Ambassador to �Along the Trading Paths / 69 the Cherokees" is not recorded. But letters of complaint about Sir Alexander Cuming's business dealings in Charles Town reached London during this time, and the Cherokee delegation was taken from his supervision and placed under the sponsorship of Governor Robert Johnson of South Carolina, who was in the English capital on business, and under Sir William Keith of Pennsylvania. For two months the Indians were in England since they were not allowed to leave the country until a treaty had been drawn up by the Board of Trade. On this paper, known as the Treaty of Whitehall, the Cherokees put their marks and in so doing acknowledged the English government as virtual owners of their vast domain and the English king as their ruler. They agreed to fight with the English against any or all English enemies in America, to trade only with the English, to allow only the English to build forts and to "plant corn" in their territory, to return all runaway slaves to the English, to allow crimes against the English to be tried in English courts, and to notify the English of all trespassers of other nationalities entering the Cherokee country.30 Back in their own land, neither these delegates nor the Cherokee nation made any attempt to abide by this treaty. It seems evident that not a one of the signers understood the significance of making his small cross on the white man's piece of paper. It is certain that the group had not been given the authority by an Indian council to make treaties or to give promises in the name of their nation. For some years, however, the Cherokees swayed again to the English, and trade with South Carolina increased. All of this may well have been the result, not so much of the treaty to which the English tried to hold the Indians, as of Cuming's spectacular trip and the exciting visit of the chiefs in London. But the French to the west, bent on making good their claim to Western North Carolina, had no intention of permitting this new Cherokee-English era of good will to endure. In 1736, just six years after Cuming's visit, they sent into the region a man whose influence and grandiose schemes presented the gravest threat to English trade and prestige yet felt. He was a shrewd, shriveled, little German, calling himself Christian Priber (although that may not have been the name by which he had been christened some thirty-five or forty years earlier). He was charged with the duty of winning both Indian trade and Cherokee loyalty from the �70 / Chapter Four English to the French. No better choice of a spy could have been made. Entering the Over Hills section, he soon added a fluent use of the Cherokee language to his long list of speaking languages which included French, German, Spanish, Latin, and English. He adopted Indian dress and the Cherokee manner of painting his body and face, and he married a young Cherokee woman. In a short time he succeeded in speaking, in looking and in living like a Cherokee. As a result, his power in the Over Hills area was solidly established. Priber had entered the Cherokee country for reasons undreamed of by either the English or the French. His schemes included nothing short of a vast Indian empire or confederacy made up of all the tribes and nations living between the Blue Ridge and the Mississippi River. The Cherokee nation was to form the nucleus of this far-flung dominion. During a period of expediency, he planned to ally with the French, but when the time was ripe, anticipated throwing off all foreign control, thus hastening the day he foresaw when "European nations will have a very small footing on this continent." Priber's first step in forming the empire was to select a capital, and as a temporary one he chose Great Tellico where he made his home. There in a colorful ceremony he crowned Moytoy, raised to the position of headman at the time of Cuming's visit, as Emperor to rule over the many nations. Then he had himself appointed His Imperial Majesty's Principal Secretary. Under that title he wrote arrogant and demanding letters to the colonial governments, and when his requests were summarily refused, as he knew they would be, he used the replies as propaganda against the English. It was then comparatively easy to arouse in the Cherokees a feeling for the importance of their position and hence to make them aware of their bargaining power in the EnglishFrench struggle. The resulting unfriendliness toward the English and the rapid decline in English trade alarmed the traders, and South Carolina at length sent Colonel Joseph Fox and two aides to Great Tellico to arrest Priber.31 Priber received the officers cordially and freely admitted that he was working out an alliance between the Cherokees and the French at New Orleans. He also revealed his hopes to bring into the Indian nation some qualified Frenchmen to teach the art of ammunition making. He must have been secretly amused at this naive gesture on the part of South Carolina, knowing himself far too intrenched with the Cherokees to be in �Along the Trading Paths I 71 danger from the three English officers. To their chagrin, Colonel Fox and his men found themselves being politely conducted out of the Over Hills section by Priber's men. As his journal shows, Priber was meantime laying the foundation for his Indian empire. He drew up elaborate plans for a worthy capital which would be called Cusseta to be built in the present Georgia. It would have a communal form of government and would be a city of refuge, welcoming the oppressed of Europe, those fleeing from justice, runaway slaves, in fact, any one wishing a haven from political or personal storms. Trial marriages • would be allowed, even encouraged, and children would be the wards of the state. Property ownership would be, as already with the Indians, a privilege of the community. Laws were to be few, and the only crimes recognized in this city would be an act of murder actually committed within it and laziness. By 1743 Priber apparently felt that the time had come for further developments in his plan, and with several Indian guides he set out for Mobile, intending to stop enroute at the French fort of Toulouse. But before he reached this first goal, he was captured by the English and taken to Frederica in the new colony of Georgia. There he was held a prisoner until General James Oglethorpe's return from his campaign against the Spanish in Florida. Both General Oglethorpe and the English soldiers were deeply impressed by the charm, learning, and quiet courage of this ugly, odd, little man. On his person they found the manuscripts giving in detail the plans for organizing the empire and the detailed plan of his capital city. When they pointed out to him that this whole scheme was treason from the angle of both the French and the English, his reply hinted at a well organized group of which he was only one. Priber implied that, regardless of his fate, the work would be taken up by others.32 That there may have been some truth in this is evident from the fact that he apparently intended to publish his plans in Paris and to procure from there and from other European cities and countries financial aid for the project. Before the English brought Christian Priber to trial, however, he sickened and died; and the dream of a vast Indian empire died with him, although the English were never able to offset his influence in the Over Hills area. His work and influence there may have been a strong factor in the Cherokees of this section joining the French some years later in the conflict known as the French and Indian War. More immediate results were the �72 / Chapter Four frequent attacks on Englishmen and the burning of scattered English villages on the fringe of the Cherokee country. Historians have differed in their opinions of this extraordinary spy and schemer. How much personal ambition entered into his plans can not be determined. He claimed to have a genuine love for the Cherokees, in fact, for all Indians and insisted that his aim was to serve the interest of the Indians against white aggression. In that, too, there seems to have been at least a kernel of truth, for at the time he was arrested, he was carrying the manuscript of a Cherokee dictionary which he had written and doubtless intended to publish in Paris. Certain it is that English traders, while they feared his influence and struggled to keep the Cherokees loyal to the English, acknowledged Priber's brilliant mind and great learning and ability. One of these traders, James Adair actually kept up a personal correspondence over a period of several years with the German in the pay of France.33 The removal of Christian Priber from the scene temporarily relieved but did not solve the complicated problems of the English in their relations with the Cherokees of Western North Carolina. By the middle of the century many forces were being woven into the dark fabric of contention and warfare. The clouds over the mountains were threatening a deluge and gathering their thunderbolts of fire and carnage. �C H A P T E R F I V E Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll XJL fter 1743 South Carolina's trade with the mountain Cherokees was carried on with constantly increasing friction between the two races. Part of the growing difficulties arose from sources that the colony could not control, but much of the trouble was due to general mismanagement in Charles Town. Virginia and Virginia traders had been resentful of South Carolina's grip on the Cherokee trade. When William Byrd voiced that resentment in 1728, he said that the colony of Virginia had been trading with the Cherokees for eighty years.1 That seems hardly possible except as some hunting bands of Cherokees may have come by chance to eastern settlements. Yet it was a Virginia trader, Abraham Wood, who had envisioned the possibility of trade with the mountain nation and who had made possible the first contact with it. In the eighteenth century, however, two restraining factors had kept Virginia traders from what they considered their fair share of the lucrative Cherokee trade. One was the inconvenience of obtaining licenses from South Carolina. The other was the contour of the land over which they had to transport their goods from the supply stations to the Over Hill Towns. From Charles Town the trading routes were over fairly open country along broad rivers and traders did not meet the difficulties of mountain 73 �74 / Chapter Five trails until comparatively close to their destination in Western North Carolina. This was not the case with Virginia traders. Shortly after leaving their supply stations, they found themselves in a mountainous region where the paths were winding and often tortuous. The discomforts increased when they had to cross the precipitous Blue Ridge. The shortest route, directly west from the upper Yadkin River across what is now Watauga County and on to the Indian towns, made far too strenuous a trip to be undertaken by traders with loaded pack horses. In fact, as late as 1766, when James Smith and his Negro companion left a Kentucky-bound party and traveled eastward from the Tennessee River to settlements on the Yadkin River, the colonists there could scarcely credit Smith's story, declaring that they had never known of any one coming directly over the mountains by that route.2 Virginia traders had to travel farther south, therefore, crossing the Blue Ridge at Swannanoa Gap or at Hickory Nut Gap. Even then they had a long mountain trip before reaching the villages of the Cherokees. Frequently because of that fact, they continued south on the east side of the Blue Ridge until they made connection with the route passing through Keowee of the Lower Towns. There they sold their wares or took the trail through Rabun Gap into the mountain section, although this meant, after 1733, the purchasing of a license from Georgia as well as from South Carolina. It is no wonder then, that in 1725 Colonel George Chicken reported having seen not more than three Virginia traders in Western North Carolina. The physical hardships endured by Virginia traders were overcome, however, when in 1740 Stephen Holstein, a hunter from their colony, crossed the Blue Ridge farther north and west of the Yadkin River and discovered the river that is now known by his name modified into Holston. Explorers then found that it connected with the Tennessee and thereby with the Over Hill Towns. Consequently, a shorter and more convenient trade route was soon in operation from Virginia to the Cherokee villages.3 In 1751 a group of chiefs, throughly disgruntled at the treatment they were receiving from South Carolina, went to Williamsburg, seeking a formal trade treaty with Virginia. In spite of the immediate and vigorous protests of South Carolina's Governor James Glenn, Virginia, under the governorship of Robert Dinwiddie, openly laid claim to its share of the Cherokee trade. He allowed its traders to enter Western North Carolina without licenses from South Carolina.4 �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll I 75 One of the Cherokee grievances was the fact that South Carolina was allowing its traders to deal with the Creeks and other Indian tribes to the west who were Cherokee enemies and with whom at times they were engaged in actual warfare. 5 These grievances were deeply felt in the Lower Towns, which were almost constantly at war with the Creeks. The resulting petty annoyances perpetrated against the English culminated in 1751 in an act of sabotage that threatened open war with the English. Spurred on by inflamed Indians from Keowee, Middle Town Cherokees looted the English storehouse at Stekoa on the Tuckaseigee River, on the site of the present Whittier. The rumor spread that a trader, Barnard Hughes, and three other white men had been slain and that all English traders were to be killed. Traders from the entire section fled to the safety of English forts. The rumors proved untrue, and the English, with the aid of Old Hopp, the revered Cherokee chief, succeeded in regaining most of the stolen goods. But conscientious traders could read in this incident the writing on the wall. Ludovick Grant, James Beamer, Cornelius Dougherty, and Robert Bunning all sent formal statements to Governor Glenn, pointing out the explosive conditions prevailing, citing abuses perpetrated by English traders, calling attention to the ever-strengthening French influence, and pleading for a firm and just course of action on the part of South Carolina.6 As a result, in 1753 Governor Glenn held a council with Cherokee Chiefs. The Indians demanded more guns and ammunition to fight the Creeks and a cessation of all English trade with their enemies. They also wanted forts built for their protection against western tribes and the French. A compromise was reached by which Governor Glenn promised the forts in exchange for a promise of peace between the Cherokees and Creeks. In compliance with its promise, South Carolina built a fort across the river from Keowee, which was named Fort Prince George.7 Two years later still another treaty between South Carolina and the Cherokees was signed when representatives from both groups, including Governor Glenn himself and Old Hopp, met at Saluda Old Town, some twenty miles west of the present Columbia, South Carolina. By affixing their marks to this document, the Cherokees agreed to an eastern boundary of their territory that would run between the present cities of Spartanburg and Greenville, South Carolina, thus ceding to the �76 / Chapter Five TENNESSEE VALLEY AUTHORITY Fort London: The English, at the request of the Over Hill Cherokees, built this fort on the Little Tennessee River for protection against the French. The cannons were brought over the mountains on the backs of stout little ponies. The Cherokees, angered at the actions of the English shortly afterward, burned the fort in 1760. This picture shows an ancient cannon and the restored stockade, colony a vast stretch of land, none of which was in Western North Carolina. In return, the colony agreed to certain trading reforms and again promised a fort for the Cherokees in the Over Hill country.8 Dilatory in carrying out the renewed promise of an Over Hill fort, the colony took no action until rumors reached Charles Town that the French were planning to erect a fort on the Hiwassee River. In 1756 Fort Prince George, which had been built in 1753 only to be allowed to fall into ruins, was renovated and steps were taken to construct the promised fort. A site was selected by the Cherokees on the Little Tennessee River near the mouth of the Tellico River, six miles from Chota, the city of refuge. Then to Western North Carolina came its first architectengineer. John William Gerard de Brahm, a German, had earlier pleased the colony with the ramparts he had constructed for Charles Town.9 At first he refused to undertake the enormous task of getting needed supplies and arms over the narrow trails leading into the mountain section, even though he was offered three �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 77 hundred men and five thousand pounds sterling for the project. He accepted the mission when John Elliott, an able trader, assumed the burden of transporting the materials from Fort Prince George to the Tennessee River site. In his Journal de Brahm described that job of transportation, the most difficult so far undertaken in the mountain country. The cannons presented the gravest problems. They were poised crossways over the backs of the pack horses and lashed to the bodies of the animals with belts. Occasionally, in fact, distressingly often, one end of a projecting cannon would catch on a tree and become twisted, throwing the horse and breaking its back or neck. Over the rugged trails six miles proved to be a day's journey. 10 On a location superior to the one selected by the Cherokees de Brahm constructed a fort in the form of a rhombus. Captain Raymond Demere came from Fort Prince George and was placed in command of the forces at the new fort, so far the most westerly of all those built by the English. It was named Loudon, in honor of John Campbell, Earl of Loudon, who had recently arrived in America to become governor of Virginia and commander-inchief of all British troops in the English colonies. Following a disagreement with Demere, de Brahm left Western North Carolina before the fort was completed and the work was finished by Demere. Thus the engineer-architect became known among the Indians by the title bestowed upon him by Old Hopp, "The Warrior Who Ran Away In The Night."11 Even with their long desired fort a reality, the Cherokees could not remain on amiable terms with the English. The Indians and the whites—both the English and the French—were caught in an eddying whirlpool of conflict that was international in scope. Even had they so desired, they perhaps could not have stemmed the tide of war in this remote frontier so far from the warring European countries that had declared it. Locally, however, the English were largely responsible for the nagging irritations that eventually sparked open warfare and drove the Cherokees into the French camp. Much of the blame was attached to Charles Town itself. During the years since the Indian trade had been taken over by the colonial government, the port city and the colony had grown and prospered. Other industries, especially rice and tobacco raising, had come to exceed Indian trade in importance as broad plantations along the rivers were cleared and cultivated. �78 / Chapter Five Decreased interest in trading with the western tribes resulted, and contact with the Indians lost its adventurous appeal for men of ability, judgment, and character. Instead of going into the Indian trading as many of their predecessors had done, newcomers were now taking up other occupations, as were also the young men reared in the colony. Then, too, a new generation of men had come into political control of South Carolina with ambitions along many lines other than the colony's relationship with Indian tribes and nations. As the fear of Indian attacks on coastal settlements vanished, the securing of added territory and the desire to make money became the chief motives in all colonial dealings with the natives. The Commission of Indian Affairs failed to function, and when a Superintendent of Indian Affairs was now and then appointed, he was no longer required to spend most of his time in Indian country. Any and all persons asking for trading licenses received them, and there was scant supervision of their lives and business methods. Complaints from older traders and from Cherokee leaders got little attention in Charles Town. Finally there came a time when Old Hopp, nominal head of the Cherokee nation, said sadly, "Charles Town is a place where nothing but lies come from.12" Traders within the Cherokee territory kept the turmoil at the boiling point. Two reasons had been given by South Carolina for taking over control of the Indian trade: to correct the abuses arising in connection with private trading and to introduce Christianity among the natives. Over the long years this latter motive had been a dead letter. No attempt had ever been made by the colony to send or to sanction missionaries in the Cherokee country. The only knowledge gained by the Indians of the white man's Christianity had come through their contact with traders. During the first years of the trading arrangement, with its rather close supervision, that contact had been comparatively wholesome, and the Cherokees had respected many of the traders and had even at times protected them. But by 1755 the English traders in Western North Carolina were, with many exceptions, a motley crew, bent on making money by whatever methods presented themselves. Henry Timberlake, in his notes on conditions he found in the Over Hill Towns in 1761, states that on most of their wares the traders were making five or six hundred per cent profit, although he thought that they doubtless lost on some items. Diluted �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 79 whiskey, which sold at the same high price of the pure product, increased in volume each year. Before 1755 the vicious system of selling on credit under a plan that held relatives responsible for a Cherokee's debts had been firmly established so that hundreds of Cherokees, now dependent upon English goods, were hopelessly involved in debt and found themselves and their families at the mercy of unscrupulous traders.13 It seems almost a miracle that influential Cherokee leaders like Old Hopp, Attakullakulla, and Ostenaco should remain friends of the English; yet these and other leaders were unable to control their own people. A new generation of Cherokees had arisen, young braves softened by the labor-saving devices of the white man and corrupted by their contact with the conscienceless traders whom they came to hate. Bands of these young Indians, on pretext of hunting or of going on war raids against enemy tribes, pillaged the small, white settlements east of the Blue Ridge and stole horses and whatever else they could lay hands to. With no respect or regard for each other, hotheads of both races were quick to avenge real or fancied wrongs, rushing into rash actions that were sure to have far-reaching repercussions.14 In 1757 the colony of North Carolina, within whose territory the mountain section of the Cherokee nation lay, passed its first law affecting that region. The division in 1710 of Carolina into North and South sections, each with its own governor and assembly, was later made official; yet, until 1750 North Carolina had been in no way able to assume any of the trade with its western Indians. Following the early settlements on Albemarle Sound, groups of Europeans had made small settlements along the Pamlico, Neuse, and Cape Fear Rivers. Later migrations had brought settlers into the piedmont region. But not until past the middle of the eighteenth century had white men reached the Blue Ridge with plans for making settlements. Then for the first time citizens of North Carolina were in danger of raiding parties of Catawbas and Cherokees. In 1756, Virginia had asked to join South Carolina in the building of Fort Loudon, but the Cherokees wanted each colony to construct a fort. Virginia built a small fortification, therefore, near the ancient capital of Echota, but it was never garrisoned.15 At the same time North Carolina took steps to protect the Catawbas east of the Blue Ridge from the ever-raiding Cherokees by building a fort, thus strengthening the colony's relationship with the Catawbas and safeguarding the westward moving �80 / Chapter Five settlers. Later, for protection against both the Catawbas and the Cherokees, settlers just east of the Blue Ridge built Fort Davidson, on the site of the present Old Fort. During the far-flung ramifications of the French and English conflict, the attention of King George was called to the mounting tension at their meeting point in the wilds of Western North Carolina. He removed all Cherokee affairs from the control of the Board of Trade, placing them directly under the supervision of the Crown. This brought an end to South Carolina's monopoly of the Cherokee trade. Edmund Atkins was then named as Superintendent of Indian Affairs in 1757, and in December of that year the colony of North Carolina passed a law putting all trade with the Catawbas and Cherokees within its borders wholly under the supervision of Atkins and his successors. The new law gave these men complete power to enforce their authority. For the first time North Carolina took legislative cognizance of the western portion of her territory. Upon the death of Atkins in 1763, Captain John Stuart was named to succeed him and held his position until after the Revolutionary War. 16 This attempt at centralizing the Indian program came too late to save Western North Carolina from becoming a bloody battleground, and if James Adair is to be taken as an authority on conditions of the period, Atkins was inexcusably delinquent in putting a constructive program into action. In spite of pleas from Cherokee chiefs, Atkins did not go into the territory for a year. In the interval, according to Adair, the French were steadily gaining converts to their cause among the Cherokees. In fact, Adair summed up the situation by declaring that the English forced the Cherokees to become enemies through a long chain of wrong measures that proved costly both to the English and to the Indians.17 Two unfortunate incidents touched off the spark that enkindled the raging fires of horror known as the Cherokee War, one phase of the wide-spread French and Indian War. The details of one of these incidents are not too clear since the episode was reported to both Indians and whites by the excited, prejudiced participants. This much seems clear. Some Cherokees returning from Virginia to their Over Hill Towns, losing some of their horses, replaced the animals by stealing those belonging to a band of Virginia frontiersmen coming back from western Virginia where they (and possibly the Cherokees) had been engaged in war activities. The white men were quick to retaliate, and a skirmish �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 81 ensued during which some Cherokees were slain and others taken prisoners. This episode aroused the already French-inflamed faction of the Cherokees, and they replied to the insult by laying seige to Fort Loudon and its English garrison.18 The way for this action had been well paved by the operations of the Chevalier Christian De Lantagnac, a Frenchman appointed by the governor of Louisiana as liaison officer to the Cherokees. His base was Fort Toulouse, but he seems to have spent much time in the Over Hill Towns, possibly as a trader. There his propaganda had been successful enough to worry the Cherokee leader and Great Warrior, Ostenaco (known as Judd's Friend) and to alarm Captain Paul Demere, who had succeeded his brother as officer in command at Fort Loudon. Lantagnac's efforts also caused the French governor to report to Paris that the Cherokees had been won to the French cause.19 The second incident was a shocking example of South Carolina's mismanagement of its Indian affairs. Cherokee retaliation after the previous incident had included the murder of two soldiers and a trader at Fort Loudon in 1759. Governor William Lyttelton, who had replaced Governor Glenn, demanded that the Cherokees surrender those guilty of the crime. The Indian answer was to lay siege in September to Fort Prince George. To Lieutenant Cotymore, in charge of this fort, this act signaled the beginning of an Indian uprising. His spies had earlier brought him rumors that the Cherokees had entered into an agreement with the Creeks to join in a general attack against the English as soon as the Creeks began hostilities by killing all English traders within their nation. Learning of the siege, the Council at Charles Town advised an immediate declaration of war. This action was delayed when in October a large delegation of Cherokees, headed by outstanding leaders, went to Charles Town in an attempt to prevent a conflict and to ask for additional ammunition. The Council then advised the new governor, inexperienced in Indian affairs, to hold a specified number of the delegates as hostages until the murderers of the white men were turned over for punishment. Governor Lyttelton, however, suggested going to the relief of Fort Prince George with an impressive number of troops, and this plan was adopted. Accordingly, Lyttelton refused to make any treaty or agreement with the Cherokee delegation. At a meeting with the Indians he announced his intentions of going to the fort on the Keowee unless the Cherokees surrendered the murderers. At the same time, he promised the delegates safe �82 / Chapter Five return to their nation. It was thus an unpardonable breach of good faith when, a few days later as the Indians were on their way home, they were taken into custody and held as hostages, being later taken to Fort Prince George.20 With an army of approximately fifteen hundred, Governor Lyttelton reached Fort Prince George on December 19, 1759. In the year that had followed since South Carolina had paid the Cherokee nation an indemnity for the murders, earlier mentioned, of their warriors returning from Virginia, twenty-four Englishmen had been victims of the Cherokees.21 The governor now demanded twenty-four Indians for execution as the price for releasing the three Cherokee peace leaders being held at Fort Prince George—Oconostota, who had headed the delegation to Charles Town, Ostenaco, and Fiftoe of Keowee. Largely through the efforts of the Cherokee peacemaker and friend of the English, Attakullakulla, a compromise was worked out by which several unfortunate braves were substituted for the three leaders, who were liberated. Three, and shortly afterward the fourth, of the participants in the Fort Loudon siege were then turned over to the English, and the Cherokees agreed to twenty-two of their men being held at the fort as hostages until the remaining guilty Cherokees were turned over to the English. In view of an outbreak of smallpox that threatened widespread desertion from his army, Governor Lyttelton then led his troops back to Charles Town.22 As might be expected, this agreement was unsatisfactory to the Cherokees, and the insult to their delegates on an avowed peace mission rankled in the hearts of men in all sections of their nation. The growing hatred of the English was fanned by the propaganda of the French, and on January 19, 1760, some English traders in the Cherokee country—reports reaching English officials said twenty-four—were murdered and all Englishmen in the territory fled for their lives to the hills. Fort Prince George was again besieged, and the aroused Cherokees began attacks on small white settlements on the South Carolina and Georgia frontiers. On February 16, Lieutenant Cotymore, who was roundly hated by the Indians, was enticed from the fort on a pretext of truce and shot from ambush. Inside the fort, officers were at once ordered to put hostages in chains. When the first captive approached and stabbed the officer, the English soldiers fell upon the group of hapless Indians, brutally slaughtering every one of them. This atrocity crystalized anti-English sentiment in �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 83 the Cherokee nation and united all sections. The war was on.23 Immediately white settlements along the Yadkin and Catawba Rivers were attacked by bands of incensed Cherokees led by the recently liberated Oconostota. All of this was a matter for the king's government, and in June a revenge army made up of Highlanders and colonial volunteers under command of Colonel Archibald Montgomery arrived at Fort Prince George. They succeeded in raising the siege and then moved on to nearby Keowee, capital of the Lower Cherokees, and burned it. From there they went systematically through that section of the Indian nation, burning towns, destroying all crops, grain stores, and orchards, and forcing frightened women and children to flee into the mountains. When the scorched earth policy had been carried to its completion, Colonel Montgomery sent word to the Middle Towns to surrender. They refused, and he and his troops proceeded over the mountain pass. After carrying out his mission in this area, he planned to go to the aid of the besieged Fort Loudon on the Little Tennessee River. In this attempt he failed, for the Cherokees had assembled a large force and met Montgomery's army at Echoee, a few miles from Nikwasi. There, on June 27, a bitter battle was fought, during which twenty Englishmen were killed and seventy-six wounded. The Cherokee losses are not known. Although the Cherokees withdrew, the English were compelled to retreat, returning to Fort Prince George.24 This left the besieged garrison at Fort Loudon with no hope of aid, and it was forced to surrender or starve. Captain Demere capitulated on August 8,1760. Under the terms of surrender, the garrison was to be allowed to leave the mountain country unmolested and with sufficient arms and ammunition to ensure a safe journey to Fort Prince George. The English, in turn, were to leave all their stored arms and ammunition in the fallen fort. As the retreating Englishmen, two hundred strong, wound along the Tellico Creek, they were suddenly attacked about ten miles form the fort by the victorious Cherokees, who shot Captain Demere and twenty-nine of his men, taking the others prisoners. These soldiers, with the exception of John Stuart, who was allowed to escape, were later ransomed by the English. The occasion for this violence was the fact that the Cherokees, inspecting the deserted fort, had discovered that ten bags of powder and a quantity of cannon balls had been hidden under the floor and that other small arms and ammunition had been thrown �84 / Chapter Five into the river by the departing soldiers. Furious over the white man's perfidy, the Cherokees had rushed to avenge it. They later burned the fort.25 As news of this atrocity spread eastward, resentment against the Cherokees flamed up throughout Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. The colonists and British army planned a convincing answer to this massacre and to Colonel Montgomery's defeat in the form of an army of sufficient size to quell the Cherokee uprising once and for all. No attention was paid to Ostenaco's rather pathetic attempt at avoiding further warfare made at Niwasi in September when the English flag was raised over a group of Cherokees gathered there prepared to express loyalty to the English. Each colony organized its militia and received volunteers to join the British forces placed under the command of LieutenantColonel James Grant. The Virginia troops, commanded by Colonel William Byrd III, marched westward to the Holston River. When Byrd found it necessary to return east, he left his men in the charge of Colonel Adam Stephen. Stephen stationed the Virginia sector of the army on the Long Island in the Holston River, site of the present Kingsport, Tennessee, some 140 miles from the Cherokee Over Hill Towns. There they constructed a fort which would serve as a border protection, as a base of supplies, and as a point of attack upon the Over Hill Indians. South Carolina's force of seasoned Indian fighters under Colonel Thomas Middleton and North Carolina's volunteers under Colonel Hugh Waddell joined the British forces moving west from Charles Town. That force was composed of regulars, many of whom were Scottish Highland troops, and all were experienced in border warfare. Indian warriors from tribes that were century-old enemies of the Cherokees formed one unit in the campaign. Catawbas from North Carolina, Mohawks from New York, and Chickasaws recruited from Georgia by James Adair were put under the command of Captain Quentin Kennedy. Altogether, the colonies furnished about half of Grant's army of three thousand men, a number in contrast with the two thousand led by Montgomery the previous year. On May 21, 1761, this army, the largest yet sent into the district, had traveled three hundred miles from Charles Town along the old trading path and had arrived at Fort Prince George. There the peacemaker, Attakullakulla, brought renewed peace overtures. They were rejected by Grant in view of orders given by �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 85 Lord Jeffrey Amherst, Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in America at the time. Grant had been instructed to punish the Cherokees throughly before making any terms of peace. On June 7, therefore, the army started for the Middle Towns. Entering the mountains by way of the trading path from Keowee, the forces stretched in single file for a distance of some two miles as they wound along the narrow, tree-lined trail. In addition to the soldiers, there w^ere six hundred pack horses laden with the officers' baggage, stores of ammunition, and a thirty day supply of flour for the army. There was, also, a sizable herd of beef cattle. All the animals were in the charge of rangers and herders. As Grant had expected, the Cherokees, from six hundred to a thousand strong, attacked the moving army as it passed through a gorge. But by detailing added troops to protect the pack trains from serious threat of being cut off and by ordering certain troops to keep up a steady volume of shots into the woods where the attacking Indians lurked, Grant succeeded in keeping the men advancing to an open plain. There, in spite of the constant fire of the Cherokees, he was able to get his forces across the ford of the Little Tennessee River and to defend his position through several hours of sharp fighting. The Indians finally suffered such a casualty toll that they retreated. Grant lost ten men and found that fifty-three others had been wounded, one of them dying later. Thus, just short of a year after Montgomery's defeat, this so called second battle of Echoee (actually fought a short distance from the scene of the first encounter) was ended. After burying the dead, Grant's troops marched on into the village of Echoee. News of the immense size of Grant's army and of the heavy loss of life suffered by the Cherokees preceded them, and they found the village deserted. They destroyed it. Without resting the troops continued in the darkness to Nikwasi, destroying the deserted village of Tassee on the way. At Nikwasi the tired army rested several days. Then there began a thorough destruction of towns, crops, gardens, and orchards, all of which had been deserted by the frightened Indians, who had fled into the hills. Passing through the country, Grant and his forces encountered almost no opposition. The only casualties occurred when some Cherokee sniper succeeded in killing a sentry or two. On this punitive campaign the British forces traversed the most difficult terrain yet crossed by a British army when, with a detachment of fifteen hundred men, Grant passed over the wild, pathless Cowee �86 / Chapter Five range in the darkness and rain to reach the towns scattered along the banks of the Tuckaseigee River. Wherever he went, the pattern of total destruction took form until the villages of the Middle Towns were mere heaps of ashes; the farms became ghosts of burned and broken trees and scorched fields.26 The British Army was not without its losses. By the time that Grant got back to his temporary base, he found that three hundred of his men were ill and that one thousand more were without shoes after their long marches over the rocky mountains. Grant sent a detachment to the most westerly of the Middle Towns to prevent the Cherokees there from joining the Over Hill warriors in an attack on the Virginia troops and then led his men back to Fort Prince George. He had been in Western North Carolina a little more than a month and as a result, fifteen towns of the Cherokees had been burned and fifteen hundred acres of growing crops destroyed, while an estimated five thousand Cherokees had been driven into the hills to survive as best they could. In a little short of a year, Montgomery's defeat had been avenged with ample interest. The widespread devastation, together with the presence of British troops at the site of the present Murphy, deterred the Over Hill Cherokees from putting into action any plans they may have had for attacking the Virginia contingent on the Long Island of the Holston. In early autumn, therefore, a delegation led by Old Hopp and made up of other chiefs and four hundred of his people arrived at the fort to sue for peace. By November 19 the terms were ready, and a cessation of war was granted to the Over Hill Indians. Once more Attakullakulla led a delegation representing the entire nation to Fort Prince George where terms of surrender and peace were drawn up. That segment of the French and Indian War known as the Cherokee War came to a close.27 Broken in spirit and with hundreds of its young warriors dead, the Cherokee nation faced the task of rebuilding homes before a winter that could well bring starvation and disease. The Principal People were never to recover wholly from this national disaster. The Indian trade was completely disrupted, and the people were without needed supplies and without money. Nor could they fall back on the French, upon whom so many of them had pinned their faith. The French had had a large part in provoking the war and had aided the Cherokees, perhaps, as some of the English soldiers felt, even joining in their battles. But in the Cherokee defeat, the French had also met defeat. Their mother country and their �Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll / 87 colonial empire had fared badly in other sectors of the long battle line that stretched from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico. Their bastions of defense had fallen like ten pins before the steady fire of the British forces. In 1758 the French fort at Louisburg had fallen as had the Fort Frontenac and Fort Dusquesne. The next year Montcalm and his French army were defeated by General James Wolfe, bringing Quebec into the hands of the English. Fort Ticonderoga and Crown Point were then given up, and Montreal surrendered in 1760. By the time the Cherokee War was over, the dream of a vast French empire in the New World had vanished, and a treaty of peace between France and victorious England was signed in 1763. Through it England gained the French possessions in Canada and forced the French to relinquish their claims to land east of the Mississippi River. French traders in the Cherokee country packed their wares, ceased their propaganda, and silently betook themselves away from the councils of the Indians and out of the Cherokee villages. As a permanent reminder of their old claims to Western North Carolina, they left only the adjective French attached to the Broad River west of the Blue Ridge.28 �C H A P T E R S I X The Lull Between the Storms o Cherokee population statistics were available until well into the nineteenth century, but from time to time South Carolina officials and white traders made estimates of the number of people, especially warriors, living within the boundaries of the Cherokee nation. In 1715 Governor Robert Johnson reported to the Proprietors that there were perhaps nine thousand Cherokees trading with his colony and that the nation had eleven towns in the Lower area, thirty in the Middle settlement, and nineteen in the Over Hill area. William Byrd in his History of the Dividing Line gave the number of towns as sixty-two and thought that there might be four thousand warriors. 1 In 1735 traders estimated the population at seventeen thousand and gave the number of towns as sixty-four. In 1738, however, small-pox reached Charles Town by a European ship and was unwittingly carried to the Cherokee country by trading caravans. The rapidly-working disease swept unchecked over the Indian nation. By the spring of 1739 every home was mourning its dead, and not more than half the people were left to till the fields and furnish the pelts and furs wanted by the white traders. By the middle of the century the population had greatly risen but was still apparently far below the 1735 figure. When the Cherokee War broke out, traders estimated that the Cherokees could muster not more than twenty-three hundred warriors. 2 How many defenders were slain in the raids by Montgomery and Grant and how many men, women, and �The Lull Between the Storms / 89 children died in the starving times that followed is not known, but the number must have been large. During the trading period, Cherokee villages varied greatly in size, many of them being merely clusters of five or six houses with their outlying fields and gardens. In fact, no town approximated the status of a city. No record left in pre-Revolutionary accounts credits Echota with more than thirty houses, although mention is made of a Lower Cherokee town of some five hundred dwellings.3 Over the years towns were destroyed by accidentsvby inter-tribal conflicts, and by the whites. Some of them were rebuilt, but others were not. Now and then new towns were erected as was the case in the Middle settlements when refugees from the Lower Towns fled there after Montgomery's raid. Then, too, the importance of towns changed, some losing their prestige to others. For example, Great Tellico, during the time that Priber lived in it, superseded Echota, although the latter remained the city of refuge. Also for a period of time the capital of the Middle Towns seems to have . shifted from Nikwasi to Joree, a few miles away. When the peace treaties were signed in 1761, ending the Cherokee War, only nineteen or twenty Over Hill Towns remained.4 When Old Hopp sued for peace at the fort on the Long Island of the Holston River, some four hundred Cherokees were with him. After the signing of the armistice, he requested that an English officer be sent with the delegations to their towns in order to explain the terms of peace and to receive the pledge of loyalty from his people. Colonel Stephen felt he could ask no officer to undertake a task so far beyond the call of duty as a journey into the strongly pro-French towns might well prove to be. Henry Timberlake, a young Virginian who had helped to draw up the terms of the treaty, volunteered to make the trip. He refused, however, to join the Cherokees and with one companion made the one hundred and forty mile, adventure-packed journey to the Indian capital. From there he went to town after town, smoking innumerable peace pipes, being entertained with Indian dances and games, and feasting on the choicest meats of the hunt and the best of the stored vegetables. In the council houses he received protestations of Cherokee loyalty, and he, in turn, expressed the good will of the English and the hope of long peace between the races.5 Timberlake became deeply interested in these people and learned what he could of their customs and ways of life, of their �90 / Chapter Six beliefs and religious life. He made observations on the land and its possibilities. He felt that in their thinking and basic manner of living the Cherokees, even after fifty years of trading with the whites, had absorbed little if any of the white man's civilization. They had, Timberlake said, adapted some of the white man's wares to their needs, and he saw that they had some European vegetables in their gardens and some European fruit trees in their orchards. He was pleased with the fine breeds of horses and the fine droves of hogs he observed, although he noticed that there were no sheep or cattle. Both men and women, he found, were adopting the white man's dress, and the women had learned to sew. In spite of the fact that the young Virginian was constantly on the alert as a hostage, he was drawn to the Cherokees and freely and sincerely gave them his friendship. 6 Timberlake was called upon to test that friendship in an unexpected manner. When at last he was allowed to return to Williamsburg, taking with him about thirty white prisoners held by the Indians during the war, the Great Warrior of the Over Hill Towns, Ostenaco, announced that he would accompany the white men. Joining the party were also a hundred and sixty uninvited warriors. In Williamsburg, Ostenaco saw a portrait of King George and suddenly decided that he must go to England and personally express the Cherokee loyalty. When he could not be dissuaded, Governor Fauquier detailed Henry Timberlake to conduct the Great Warrior and two of his Indian companions to the English capital. Like the chiefs taken to London by Sir Alexander Cuming thirty years earlier, these Cherokees made a sensation in the capital city. Among their noted visitors were Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted a portrait of Ostenaco, and Oliver Goldsmith, who wrote an account of these American aborigines in his Animated Nature. Sir Alexander, who was languishing in a debtors' prison, was given a parole to act, as best he could, as interpreter for the Warrior. The Cherokees were given an audience with King George, and Ostenaco made a speech. He doubtless experienced some difficulty in maintaining his native dignity and poise in the English garb he wore, the latest word in ruffles and silks. The Indian holiday seems to have been a delightful affair, thoroughly enjoyed by the Britishers and the Cherokees, in fact, by all save Timberlake. He had personally paid all the expenses and was never able to gain complete reimbursement from the Board of Trade.7 With the close of the French and Indian War in 1763, �The Lull Between the Storms / 91 representatives of Virginia, Georgia, and North and South Carolina met with a group of Cherokee chiefs and explained to them the terms of the peace treaty. A royal proclamation that same year restrained the whites in the two Carolinas from entering or taking up land west of the Blue Ridge, that is, west of the headwaters of streams flowing into the Atlantic Ocean. By this means the king hoped to avoid further border conflicts. The Cherokees were, of course, in no position to bargain to their own advantage. Also that year the native Americans signed a treaty ceding to South Carolina approximately one hundred square miles of their land in that colony, pushing their eastern boundary west to a line running north and south through the colony from a point on the Savannah River and passing near the present Greenville, on to the North Carolina line.8 Unaffected by the king's proclamation, Virginia gained by a forced treaty all Cherokee lands within the present state of Virginia and West Virginia in 1770 and in 1772 won from the Cherokees all lands east of the Kentucky River.9 The Cherokees, scarred by memories of the recent war and fearing the encroachment of the whites, asked for a clearly stated eastern boundary line in the two Carolinas. That request was granted, and by royal order in 1767 North Carolina's Governor William Tryon, accompanied by two surveyors, two regiments of militia, and sixteen servants and aides, made the trip to the Cherokee country.10 The new South Carolina-Cherokee line was surveyed and a line run from it into North Carolina. But to survey the wild terrain of the Blue Ridge was an impossible feat. Both Cherokees and whites agreed to a line declared from Tryon Mountain, passing near the present town of Tryon and following the crest of the Blue Ridge in a northeasterly direction to the mines of Colonel Chiswell in Virginia. The Board of Trade also agreed to this arrangement. While later surveys showed that such a line would not pass the designated site in Virginia, the crest of the range provided a boundary sufficiently clear to both races. The Cherokees were to stay west of that line; the whites were to stay east of it. The present Blue Ridge Parkway, along stretches of its North Carolina length, follows that old line of demarcation.11 But there were loopholes in this agreement. In the first place, the line did not apply to Virginia. In the second place, it was possible that it would not govern the Lord Granville tract that crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains in the northern part of North Carolina. And in the third place, white men had already looked upon the fair mountain land with covetous eyes, and spirals of blue �92 / Chapter Six smoke were already rising skyward from scattered cabins dangerously close to the Blue Ridge. South Carolina traders had entered the Cherokee country under treaty arrangements and could in no way be called settlers, although many of them remained in the territory for the rest of their lives. Even though they married Cherokee women and their children were Cherokees, their status remained that of visitors or sojourners. They had no desire to own land, but they adopted the native American way of life, becoming a part of the Cherokee community. How early daring hunters and trappers, with only their wits and their guns to protect them from the natives, crept warily over the mountains will never be known, for they were not the type of men to write of their deeds. But like the traders, they were not settlers and had no interest in owning the land they saw beyond the Blue Ridge. Even before Governor Tryon's line was drawn, a few hardy settlers east of the mountains had begun the practice of taking their cattle over the ranges to the meadows beyond for summer forage. For convenience, some of them had built tiny log shelters. But these men, too, had no intention of settling in this region, and when pasturing days were over, they took their way back over the hills to their cabins to the east.12 But there were other men corning into the Cherokee country on other missions who pictured the land as it might be under the tillage of white settlers. As early as 1670-1674, Dr. Henry Woodward had seen the western country as a "second Paradise" beckoning to Englishmen with the vision and the courage to enter it. The dashing Sir Alexander Cuming conjured up in his mind the picture of Zion, its Jewish inhabitants dwelling in the midst of the Cherokee Philistines. Apparently he also had visions of permanent English occupants, for with a view to future mining, he took back to England specimens of rocks and "iron stone." A quarter of a century later the engineer de Brahm uttered a surprisingly accurate prophecy of this land's future when he wrote: "Should this country once come into the hands of the Europeans, they may with propriety call it the American Canaan, for it will fully answer their industry, and all methods of European culture, and so as well for European produce (the rice only excepted) for provisions of all kinds; indigo, silk, cotton, hamp [sic] flax, oil, wine; be it for raising stocks of horses, cattle, sheep, goats, and hogs; be it for metals, minerals, fossils, and stones, or be it for rnanufacturys [sic] of all kinds. This country seems longing �The Lull Between the Storms / 93 for the hands of industry to receive its hidden treasures, which nature has been collecting and toiling since the beginning ready to deliver them up."13 In 1752 an exploring party had actually entered Western North Carolina with the aim of selecting a tract of land upon which to settle a colony. The Cherokees were fully justified in wanting a line drawn, past which the white man would not be allowed to "plant corn." In the years immediately preceding the Revolutionary War, the population of North Carolina increased with amazing rapidity. In fact, between 1759 and 1771 it practically doubled.14 Political upheavals and religious persecutions in various European countries brought many thousands of immigrants to America. From the German Palatine provinces individuals and organized religious groups arrived in Philadelphia to join German settlements established earlier. They became known as the "Pennsylvania Dutch." Although fewer in number than the Germans, many Swiss also landed at the Pennsylvania port city, and there was a rather steady stream of Irish and a few French Huguenots. Two waves of migrating Scottish settlers likewise swelled the tide of incoming Europeans. These newcomers sought both religious and political freedom in the New World. One wave brought men, women, and children from northern Ireland, where Scottish settlements had been made more than a century before in six counties of Ulster. The political and economic disorders were generated by two acts of Parliament. The Woolens Act of 1699 restricted the sale of Ulster woolens and linens to markets in England and Wales, thus destroying the woolen industry in Ulster. The Test Act of 1704 was an attempt to coerce Ulster Presbyterians (followers of John Knox) into adhering to the Anglican Church. Both of these acts resulted in an uprising that gave North Carolina a goodly share of its population by the time of the Revolutionary War. These Scotch-Irish arrived in America by way of Philadelphia and Charles Town, or Charleston as the southern port was now frequently called. From Scotland itself came the other wave of immigrants, made up of both Highlanders and Lowlanders, most of whom had taken part in the abortive attempt of "Bonnie" Prince Charles to regain the English throne and reinstate the Stuart rule. After the decisive defeat of the Prince's Scottish forces at Culloden Moor in 1746, many participants, forced to take the stringent oath of allegiance to the English king, were glad to put as �94 / Chapter Six PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS, 1964 The Bryan Settlement and Squire Boone Home, 1747-1773: Before 1750 people were entering the Yadkin valley by way of this Great Wagon Road from Pennsylvania. Among those early settlers were Bishop Augustus Gottlieb Spangenberg's group of Moravians (1753) and the parents of Daniel Boone (1750). �The Lull Between the Storms I 95 many miles as possible between themselves and the British crown. At the orders of the English government, therefore, they came to the colonies to start life anew. Many of these immigrants, in view of the oath they had taken, became Tories during the Revolutionary War. For the most part, they settled along the Cape Fear and other rivers in the eastern part of the colony; some of them found their way into the piedmont. But the Scotch-Irish who came to dominate the "back country" had taken no such oath, and their resentment against English restraint and decrees made them ardent exponents of both political and religious freedom. They became leaders in the movement that led to the struggle to win freedom and separation from the mother country.15 After 1740 immigrants of all nationalities found that both Pennsylvania and eastern South Carolina were fairly well settled, with the best lands taken up by earlier arrivals. Then, too, the gathering conflict with the French opened Pennsylvania's western border to Indian and French guerrilla warfare. Thus the newcomers streamed westward. Those coming to South Carolina followed the old trading paths to the west, settling south and east of the Catawba lands or, turning north into North Carolina, settled along the Pee Dee and Catawba Rivers and their tributaries. The German, Swiss, Welsh, Irish, and Scotch-Irish arriving at Philadelphia, followed an old Indian trail to the Shenandoah valley in Virginia. They traveled along its length and, crossing the mountains, reached the Dan River from whence they crossed to the Yadkin valley and continued south to the land east of the Catawba River. This "Pennsylvania Road" was a harsh, unfriendly, tortuous, narrow trail, but over it, with their meager belongings, came most of the families making up the settlements in the piedmont and western sections of North Carolina.16 As early as 1740 daring settlers had begun the community that was to grow into Charlotte, while others that followed during the next few years took up land in the present Burke and Rutherford Counties. It was to gain the good will of the Catawba Indians and to protect these westward moving settlements that North Carolina in 1757 built a fort east of the Blue Ridge. Even so, during the Cherokee War these tiny villages were in constant danger of raids, and occasionally a settler lost his life. When in 1729 the English Crown had purchased the Carolina shares from the Proprietors or their heirs, Lord George Carte re t's heir had refused to sell and had been given his eighth of the vast �96 / Chapter Six territory from the Virginia boundary southward for a distance of sixty miles and stretching, as granted in the 1663 charter, from the Atlantic Ocean to the South Sea. By 1750 this strip of land, with two thirds of the colony's population, was held by John, Earl of Granville, and was known as the Granville Tract. Lord Granville's agent set up a land office in Edenton to sell tracts of land in the area to incoming settlers.17 To this office in 1752 went Bishop August Gottlieb Spangenberg of Pennsylvania with a party of six "Brethern" and was granted by Francis Corbin, the agent, a huge area in the "back country" of North Carolina. The land was to be selected by Spangenberg and surveyed by the men accompanying him on an exploring trip into the region. This property was being purchased in the interest of a group of Protestants, Germans of the Moravian faith. They had come to Pennsylvania to colonize but had found there no suitable tract large enough to serve their purpose. Bishop Spangenberg, leader of their faith in America, hoped now to locate land farther west where a colony might be settled to carry out the religious beliefs and practices of the group and to engage, if possible, in missionary activities among the Indians. The little party started westward but because of illness two of the men were forced to drop out, being left at the homes of friends in Pennsylvania. The remaining four (Spangenberg, a surveyor, and two guides) followed early trails and roads, which brought them after a strenuous trip into the Yadkin valley. From this trail they branched off on Indian trails and then onto the even narrower buffalo trails in search of land. They stopped long enough to make surveys around the present Hickory and Morganton areas. They continued their journey by traveling north and west and on a day in early December found themselves lost in the rugged Blue Ridge range. After the loss of a horse on the pathless, precipitous hills and after chopping their way out of laurel and rhododendron thickets, they came to a valley, open and beautiful, in which three creeks united. There, Bishop Spangenberg felt, would be an ideal place for an Indian mission. The Moravians were looking at the valley in the present Watauga County where today the city of Boone stands near those three forks of the stream. In spite of the inviting valley, the country did not appeal to the Bishop as a place to settle his colony, for, as he wrote, "The western part of North Carolina is all hills and valleys and that pours the water together."18 �The Lull Between the Storms / 97 COURTESY OF DR. INA W. VAN NOPPEN Daniel Boone: Boone was bom in Pennsylvania in 1735 but lived for 26 years in North Carolina. He won fame as a hunter, an explorer, as a scout for the Richard Henderson Company, and as a trail blazer. With a crew of men he hacked out the Wilderness Road to Kentucky, Over it the Henderson Party traveled. This likeness of him at 80 is a copy of the only portrait ever painted of him. Unfortunately for the travelers, Western North Carolina gave them an unfriendly welcome in the form of a blinding snow storm. So it was with decided relief that a few days later they chanced to meet and join with three hunters returning to the �98 / Chapter Six PHOTO BY BARBARA GREENBERG, FOR THE APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM Daniel Boom's Trail from North Carolina to Kentucky, 1769. Marked by N. C. Daughters of The American Revolution: The rock on which the plaque is mounted was hauled from Rich Mountain Gap (circa 1905) by Cicero Greer and Lewis Bryant ofBoone to its present site in the yard of Mr. and Mrs. Howard T. Greer in Zionville in Watauga County. Yadkin across the mountains. Back in the land of the Yadkin Spangenberg's party surveyed a tract of land ten miles wide and eleven miles long and gave it the name Wachovia, a word meaning meadow and stream. The tract was approved by Granville's agent, and an additional tract was later arranged for, making the Moravian grant approximately 100,000 acres. There in 1753 a party of the "Brethern," having accomplished the incredible feat of bringing with them a wagon over the Pennsylvania Road, began their central village, Bethabara. This palisaded town proved to be a haven of refuge to the scattered families east of the Blue Ridge during the frightening days of the Cherokee War.19 Although the hunters and cattlemen were not themselves settlers in Western North Carolina, they furnished glowing accounts of fertile valleys beyond the Blue Ridge to land-seeking men streaming along the Pennsylvania Road into the Yadkin �The Lull Between the Storms / 99 valley. Several of these hunters and trappers became guides for exploring parties looking for suitable hornesites. The most famous of these was Daniel Boone. His parents had been among the earlier immigrants from Pennsylvania, settling in the Yadkin section where in the present town of Mocksville, a marker designates the site of his father's cabin. Young Daniel grew up on the frontier and at an early age was now and then crossing the mountains into the same valley viewed by Bishop Spangenberg. There, on occasion, he is reputed to have made use of a shelter cabin for herders built by Benjamin Howard. The site of that cabin is today marked by a plaque on the campus of Appalachian State University. Throughout this section Boone hunted and trapped and explored until by 1767 he was familiar not only with the best trails in the present eastern Tennessee, but also with those running on west into the "Land of Kaintuck." In fact, he had by that date conducted a party into that western land.20 Back at his home—now a cabin near the Blue Ridge in the present Wilkes County—Boone's knowledge of lands and trails beyond the mountains won him a local reputation. In 1761 he was asked to guide a party of hunters from Virginia into the eastern part of the present Tennessee, which was then a part of Western North Carolina. In 1769 a hunter named John Finley asked Boone to conduct an exploring party from Virginia into the Kentucky country, where a site was selected for a village to be known as Walker's Settlement. Along the route the men selected farm sites for their friends back east under an open grant for 120,000 acres from the colony of Virginia. Some of the locations chosen were actually within the colony of North Carolina, but no settlements were made at that time.21 Colonel Byrd's troops in 1761 had passed through a part of North Carolina's western lands on their way to quell the Cherokee uprising, and some of the officers and soldiers, during their stay on the Long Island of the Holston, saw the possibilities for future settlement in the western valleys. At the end of the French and Indian War with the danger of Cherokee raids supposedly over, pioneer families from east of the Blue Ridge and many arriving from Virginia and Pennsylvania took their belongings over the mountains, selecting land and building their cabins on the upper Holston, Watauga, and Nolichucky Rivers. These scattered pioneers had received grants from Virginia. The earliest came perhaps in 1769 and were joined in the following three years by hundreds of others seeking cheap land and elbow �100 / Chapter Six SOUTHERN APPLACHIAN HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION Daniel Boone hoists a bear in an exciting scene from the historic outdoor drama, Horn in the West, which has been performed for 25 consecutive years in Boone, North Carolina. room. Soon the smoke of home fires could be seen up and down the fertile valleys. The increasing numbers pushed the settlers south and east, and one of them, running a surveying line, discovered that many had claimed and were clearing land in North Carolina and were therefore outside the protection of Virginia. William Boen (or Bean) is said to have been the first of those settling that area.22 To insure a degree of safety the settlers made a temporary agreement with the Cherokees by which they were granted settlement rights, and they notified the North Carolina government. The new North Carolina settlement came to be known as the Watauga Settlements, extending over a considerable area in the present Tennessee and along the Watauga River in what is today Watauga County, North Carolina. They were the first permanent white settlements in Western North Carolina. Among the hundreds who came to make their homes in the newly opened area were a surprisingly large number of able men �The Lull Between the Storms / 101 with courage and vision. They were willing, even eager, to work hard in order that they might create in this wilderness a home for themselves and their children. But they were intolerant of restrictions and demanded a just share in their political organizations and freedom in their religious thinking. Out of this number, two gradually assumed leadership, expressing in their words and actions the finest and best of the pioneer spirit that was common to all. One of these was James Robertson, who arrived early in 1770. He was a self-taught North Carolinian whose sheer ability and impressive personality insured him immediate recognition by the other settlers. He was by his very nature a pioneer, and others caught the enthusiasm for the sentiments that he genuinely felt and expressed. In fact, after a year in the section, he returned east and led a party of sixteen families to the area. He was to prove a tower of strength to these western settlers in the trying years ahead.23 The second of these leaders was the educated Virginian, John Sevier. Handsome, courtly in manner, and military in bearing, he was able to adapt himself with poise and tact to any situation. He understood men, and his unerring judgment, far-seeing plans, and sound principles made him the most outstanding and influential of all the Watauga settlers and one of America's greatest pioneers. Without his leadership the story of the scattered Watauga Settlements in the following eight or ten years might well have been a sad, deeply tragic page in the history of Western North Carolina.24 In the summer and fall of 1771 and throughout the next year, men from the piedmont section of North Carolina, many of them earlier settlers or sons of settlers there, arrived in the Watauga Settlements to take up a new life in a territory where they hoped to find economic security and justice, together with freedom from the oppressions of the colonial government. They were the Regulators who were defeated at the Battle of Alamance and were fleeing west to avoid taking an oath of allegiance to the king's colonial government. The experience through which they had just passed still rankled in their hearts. The Germans, Irish, and Scotch-Irish, together with a sprinkling of English, who had made settlements on the choice river lands in the piedmont section of the colony, had brought with them a distrust of government and bitter memories of the intolerance and injustice that had caused them to leave the lands of �102 / Chapter Six their birth and ancestors. In North Carolina they sought freedom along many lines. They found themselves, however, a long distance from the seat of the colony's government; moreover, this area, especially after 1750, grew with such rapid strides that the western representation in the colonial Assembly was increasingly out of proportion to its population. The western delegates, constantly urging reapportionment, always met with failure because of the controlling votes of delegates from the older and more stable section of the colony, who intended to keep a firm grip on the legislative policies of the government. To add to the general aggravation of the westerners, they found themselves the economically poor section of the colony; yet because of their rapid growth in population, they were furnishing a large share of the colony's taxes. They came to feel that the chief—perhaps the only—interest of the government in them was the amount of taxes that could be raised in their settlements, a goodly portion of which was spent in eastern communities. Deepening their resentment was the unjust system of their courts. Both civil and criminal cases considered important were tried in the east, a regulation that brought bitter complaints from the Western North Carolina and piedmont settlers. As an added grievance, they were forced to support the Anglican Church although they were, for the most part, Protestants.25 Whatever ties these newcomers from Europe might have developed with the colonists along the coast were prevented by the extremely meager means of communication between the two sections. People in the "back country" were forced to rely upon themselves for protection and for the solutions to their local problems. The result was a growing spirit of independence that led to opposition to the eastern delegates and to the often illchosen administrative officers which the Crown sent into their area. At last these western discontents organized, calling themselves Regulators. They issued a series of "Advertisements" calling for reforms of stated abuses, held several large mass meetings, and petitioned Governor Tryon to correct certain flagrant injustices. No redress was forthcoming from the Governor, Assembly, or courts, and the rapidly growing Regulator organization made plans to take affairs into its own hands. A crown officer (one Colonel Lynch, sent into the area to collect special taxes levied to pay for Tryon's "Palace") was hanged, and rumors that the Regulators were planning an armed attack against New Bern �The Lull Between the Storms / 103 26 caused Tryon to order out the militia. Under Hugh Waddell, the troops marched west where a pitched battle took place on May 16, 1771, at Alamance. The poorly-equipped and untrained Regulators, no match for the disciplined militia, were defeated and forced to take an oath of allegiance.27 The Regulator movement, arising out of geographic conditions and pioneer economic problems, was pitted against a comparatively stable eastern society and English colonial policy. It left its scars in the hearts of the piedmont settlers that did not completely disappear until the colonists of all sections of the state were united in a common struggle against England itself. The spirit of the Regulators was to crop up again during the long process of welding North Carolina into a state, but the immediate result of the Battle of Alamance was the westward movement of many of the Regulators, who, rather than take the required oath, fled across the mountains to join the Watauga settlers. During the era of Indian trade with South Carolina, a comparatively easy and continuous contact with the eastern ports was enjoyed by traders in the Cherokee villages. That contact did not exist for the pioneers in the Watauga Settlements. In fact, it was not to exist in any part of Western North Carolina later opened to white settlers. Roads and trails leading from the coastal areas of North Carolina westward to the mountains were poor and often circuitous. Men finding it necessary to travel to the capital took the Pennsylvania Road to Virginia and at some trading path in the east turned into North Carolina. An alternate route went to Charleston by way of the old trading path from Tennessee that ran east of the Blue Ridge into the Spartanburg area, linking with the Great Path to Charleston. At Charleston a boat could be taken to some North Carolina port. Realizing, then, their isolation from the North Carolina government, representatives from the scattered Watauga Settlements met early in 1772 and drew up a document that they called the Articles of the Watauga Association. The document has not survived. Existing references to it, however, reveal that although formal independence was not declared, it established a real and impressive informal independence. It provided for a Court of five elected Commissioners, a clerk of the Court, and a sheriff. It recognized no higher authority and it authorized the raising and directing of its own militia and the power to negotiate with the Indians, British agents, and the colonies of North Carolina and Virginia. �104 / Chapter Six *r ' Mhl The injustices and political, economic, and religious oppressions suffered in their European home countries and again in the piedmont of North Carolina had taught these settlers much. A group of sturdy pioneers, able and far-sighted men, learned to �The Lull Between the Storms / 105 A € r>.» ,T W-:••1 £ jL /, V \ C * o in p r ej it* n<11112," \ \ f / • / \ V IN IA A N » M A R Y L A X !>, / \ and THE X -N E < S./ /I r F.iitxy ^' ^"^jGrograpbrr to the 8»ttZ>^-*x' _^in__ —.^.^j __:*V4M"^±I, .^j, _^ •_ ^-—J - J prize freedom above all things, and they now had a determination to build a community in which justice and equality might rule. The result was Western North Carolina's first constitution. Democracy had come to the mountains. �C H A P T E R S E V E N A New Flag for Western North Carolina Jjetween 1771 and 1776 the settlements along the Holston, Nolichucky, and Watauga Rivers steadily grew as colonists from central North Carolina, from Virginia, and families from Germany, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales arrived to take up holdings and to adapt themselves to a new way of life. Although the Cherokees viewed this spreading colony with distrust and at times with alarm, the temporary treaty they had made with the Watauga Settlements remained in force. This was largely due, perhaps, to the militia that had been organized under the able leadership of John Sevier and Isaac Shelby. The native Americans were probably further intimidated by the brave show of strength displayed by the colonists in the palisades thrown up around their villages and in the forts they erected. In addition, every Cherokee recognized the fighting ability of "Nolichucky Jack" Sevier. North Carolina, busy with the distressing events of a gathering war, could not take—at least did not take—any steps to make the agreement with the Cherokees permanent. The pioneers were left to their own devices and continued to control their own affairs, becoming the first colonists to isolate themselves from the older, more stable seacoast areas of their colony. The Western North Carolina settlers were, in these years, 106 �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 107 practically unaffected by the chain of events taking place along the Atlantic. From newcomers and from their own men returning from infrequent trips to eastern ports for supplies or tor a meeting of the General Assembly they learned of the passage of the Stamp Act in 1765; and news also arrived of the subsequent taxes levied by the English government upon the colonies, including the hated tax on tea. They heard, too, of the active opposition in North Carolina to all these acts and of rumors that other colonies were likewise bitterly protesting the English measures. In 1774 people of the mountains were informed that aroused citizens had taken the reins of government from Governor Josiah Martin, who had later fled to the safety of an English vessel, and had set up the Provincial Congress of North Carolina. They also learned that in September representatives from all the colonies had met in a Continental Congress in Philadelphia to which North Carolina had sent three men. But the news of all these events reached the settlements west of the Blue Ridge weeks—more often months—after they had occurred and must have seemed to the pioneers unrelated to their own immediate problems. Without doubt many among them felt a sense of relief that they and their families were well away from the scenes of turmoil. In 1775, however, came news that made every pioneer aware that even the mountain settlements were to have a part in the oncoming struggle with the mother country. Before the Second Continental Congress was to meet in May, a battle was fought at Lexington on April 19 at which the hastily gathered Massachusetts militia forced Major John Pitcairn's British troops to retreat to Boston. American blood had been shed by the king's soldiers! It took no crystal ball for the West as well as the East to read the future. War was inevitable. Even before receiving news of this battle, the men of the "Back Country" went into action. Thomas Polk, commander of the Mecklenburg Council of Safety, issued a call for two delegates from each county unit to meet at the courthouse in Charlotte on May 19. These delegates were accompanied by approximately half of the men of the county. During the meeting word of the Battle of Lexington reached the village. In the fervor of patriotism aroused by the news, a committee was reportedly appointed to draw up a statement embodying the sentiments of the delegates, a copy of which was to be sent by horseman to the Second Continental Congress in session at Philadelphia. Much �108 / Chapter Seven controversy has raged around this document since it was never read in the Continental Congress, and the original one was lost in 1794 when the home of John McKnitt Alexander, Secretary of the Assembly, was destroyed by fire. It was rewritten from memory in 1800, twenty-five years after the Mecklenburg meeting.1 If the facts recorded in this 1800 document are accurate, the original contained the first declaration of independence from England to be penned by American colonists. The belief that it did contain such a declaration was widespread, and May 20, 1775, became known as Mecklenburg Day. In 1861 that date was put on the North Carolina flag. Whatever may have been presented and approved by a majority of the delegates on that May 20 will never definitely be known although a set of "Resolves" was drawn up and adopted on May 31. These "Resolves" appeared in June in The North Carolina Gazette, in The Cape Fear Mercury, and in The South Carolina Gazette and Country Journal. Thus, although the original copy was also destroyed in the Alexander fire, the contents of the "Resolves" have survived. They declared all commissions issued by the king "null and void" and any person accepting an office under the crown an "enemy to his country."2 In the first year of the war a few men shouldered their smallbore rifles and left the mountains and "back country" to join the American forces as volunteers. Since the scenes of combat were distant, their number was small and almost from the outbreak of the conflict it became evident that the western settlements would have all they could manage with their own problems. Many of the settlers had but recently come from Europe, and the influx into the region had been too rapid for assimilation into the social pattern that was shaping up in the area. Finding in the colony greater freedom than they had enjoyed in their home countries, many felt that the uprising against England was unjustifiable and so took a stand as Loyalists. They were joined in their attitudes by the region's Scottish veterans of Culloden Field, who, thirty years earlier, had suffered from the might of England's power and were bound to English loyalty by the strongest of allegiance oaths. Many Regulators, too, remained true to the oath of allegiance they had been forced to make after the Battle of Alamance.3 On the other hand, there were settlers of longer standing in their communities as well as newcomers who, like the ScotchIrish, had brought with them grievances against England and who had taken no oath. Both factions took up the cause of freedom and independence. Throughout Western North Carolina, as in other �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 109 parts of the colony, neighbor was often lined up against neighbor. In addition, there was in all the western settlements a sprinkling of adventurers and opportunists, rough characters prepared to take either side as expediency dictated. From them came a troublemaking element that stole horses and cattle and that pilfered and plundered individual settlements and villages.4 The Cherokees, too, became embroiled in the conflict. Their resentment against the encroaching white man yearly increased as they were forced by treaties they dared not refuse to give up their hunting grounds piecemeal. Under Colonel Evan Shelby, volunteers of western settlers joined the Virginia militia in 1774 in the campaign that, over the protests of the Cherokees, won for that colony the land between the Kentucky and Cumberland Rivers through the Henderson Purchase. Richard Henderson, a North Carolina lawyer, had become the promoter for Boone's plan to settle Kentucky, and with several other men he formed the Transylvania Company to colonize the west and create a fourteenth colony. The treaty with the Cherokees, signed on March 17, 1775, at Sycamore Shoals on the Watauga River, ceded to the newly formed company twenty million acres of land. In payment the Cherokees received approximately ten thousand pounds' worth of goods. The colonial governors of Virginia and North Carolina declared this Henderson Treaty "null and void," but neither colony did anything to halt migration into the acquired lands. The Cherokee chief, Oconostota, is said to have remarked, "The land beyond the mountains is a dark ground, a bloody ground." No longer did the Cherokees have any claim to lands north of the present Tennessee.5 After the French and Indian War the Cherokee trade with the colonists had been revived but amounted to only a trickle of its former volume. It was no longer highly profitable and was kept up by the whites largely as a means of gaining the good will of the Indians, for other industries were engaging the energies of both South and North Carolina. Moreover, after seventy years of widespread and continuous commercial hunting, all forms of game in the mountains were practically depleted. The Cherokees were now a poor people, but a people with wants and tastes cultivated by their trade with the white man and now with small chance of satisfying those wants. That small chance grew less with each loss of territory. With the outbreak of hostilities, England, through its agents �110 / Chapter Seven and through Tories in the region, spread propaganda among the Cherokees. Loyalists and English agents pointed out to the Indians that as recently as 1763 England had proved its power and might by defeating France, and the propagandists reminded the Cherokees of Montgomery's and Grant's raids in their territory. All too well did the listeners recall the destruction of their homes and towns and crops, and the native Americans logically concluded that in any struggle against England the colonists would be destined to be defeated. Their logic fitted in neatly with their desire to be rid of the settlers in Western North Carolina and Virginia, and the Cherokees allied themselves with the English. For encouragement England provided them with guns and ammunition and offered bounties for the scalps of settlers. 6 For a second time the Cherokees were drawn into an international conflict not of their making, and for the second time they had chosen the wrong side. Cherokee warriors went on the warpath in June, 1776, planning a war of extermination. At first their raids were scattered and light, but by July they were striking at isolated farms and small villages in Georgia, where they brought panic to the settlers. Widespread attacks were also made on the whites along the Broad and Catawba Rivers east of the Blue Ridge in both North and South Carolina. In several instances they wantonly killed entire families. Women and children fled for safety to the fort built at the present Old Fort as terror spread throughout the region.7 The Indians then crossed the mountains for a surprise attack on the settlements west of the Blue Ridge. But here they were repulsed, for the pioneers had been warned of the impending raid by the Cherokee Beloved Woman, Nancy Ward, the daughter of a white trader and a Cherokee mother, who was a friend of the settlers but was respected and revered by her people. Yet there was some loss of life in these settlements, for now and then some one would be caught outside a fort and become the target of a brave's gun. Throughout Western North Carolina the fear of Indian attacks spread. No one was safe as marauding bands of white desperadoes joined the Indians in their raids.8 It was during these tense days that leaders of the Watauga Settlements, aware of the immediate need to protect their part of North Carolina, met in convention and on July 5 drew up a petition addressed to the Provincial Congress, asking to be �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 111 recognized as a part of North Carolina and to be called the Washington District. This document, signed by 113 landowners, was taken to the Provincial Congress by two representatives at the convention, John Carter and George Russell. There the men were received and were instructed to send five elected respresentatives from their district to the Congress at its next meeting in Halifax. This was done, and John Carter, John Sevier, John Haile, Charles Robertson, and Jacob Womack were elected. Jacob Womack did not report at the Congress and John Sevier arrived at Halifax late; however, the others were present at the opening of the session, and by a vote of 153 to 1, all four were seated in North Carolina's war time legislative body. As representatives of the district officially named Washington County and given the boundaries of the present state of Tennessee, the men from beyond the Blue Ridge took part in drawing up the Constitution of 1776 by which the colony of North Carolina became the state of North Carolina. At the same session the Congress took steps to organize a county government for the western area, the first area of any of the colonies to be named officially for the Commander-in-Chief of the American forces.9 Retaliation for the Indian raids and massacres came swiftly and with merciless thoroughness. Following the harrowing experiences of settlers in the southern part of Rutherford County and in adjacent sections of South Carolina, Captain Thomas Howard set out with a small force of volunteers from the block house just south of the South Carolina line, below the present Try on. Guided by a friendly Indian named Schuyucha, Howard crossed the mountains and went west along an Indian trail to Round or Warrior Mountain. There he surprised the encamped Cherokees and in a skirmish defeated them, capturing all those not killed in the battle. This campaign brought a cessation of Indian trouble to that section.10 But much more widespread action was imperative, and Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, and North Carolina all sent troops—mostly volunteers—into the Cherokee country. On the orders of the Council of Safety of North Carolina, General Griffith Rutherford of the Salisbury District was put in command of the North Carolina campaign to be directed against the Middle and Valley towns. South Carolina and Georgia troops under Major (later Colonel) Andrew Williamson were to attack the Lower towns and then join General Rutherford. Colonel �112 / Chapter Seven Williams Christian was to lead the Virginia forces against the Over Hill towns. These attacks, coming from different directions, were to take place simultaneously if possible.11 On September 1, General Rutherford with a force of two thousand fighting white men, several hundred Catawbas, and needed pack men (making a total of 2,400) left Fort Davidson and crossed the Blue Ridge into the Cherokee country by way of Swannanoa Gap. Crossing the French Broad River, he followed Hominy Creek across the present Enka Corporation plant and then continued over the ridge to cross the Pigeon River, marching on to Richland Creek near the present Waynesville. From there he pushed on to the Middle towns, crossing the Tuckaseigee River east of Whittier and going south over the Cowee Range.12 Before the oncoming troops, the Cherokees fled into the fastnesses of the mountains while Rutherford's men systematically destroyed every dwelling and all crops and stored grain. When nothing was left in what is now Macon County, the troops crossed the Nantahala Mountains to the towns of the Hiwassee and Valley Rivers and those on the upper Little Tennessee. Here, too, destruction was wholesale. Except for the cattle, which the army took with them, nothing was spared. Towns, most of them newly built after Grant's raid in the region, became only blackened heaps of ashes and charred wood. The fields and orchards were merely abject specters of what had been. Here was devastation in its ugliest form.13 Throughout the area Rutherford and his men met with little opposition. There were numerous skirmishes, the fiercest of which took place at Wayah Bald Gap near the present town of Franklin and might be termed a battle. But the Americans found most of the towns deserted. As a result, casualties were light for both the white army and the Cherokees.14 At the native American village on the site of the present Murphy, Williamson and his forces joined Rutherford. That was on September 26, and shortly afterward, feeling that their task had been completed, both leaders left Western North Carolina by retracing their routes. Back at the fort of the Davidsons, however, General Rutherford learned that in crossing the Tuckaseigee and going south, he had missed important Indian towns on the lower Tuckaseigee and Oconaluftee Rivers. Accordingly, he dispatched Captain William Moore with a detachment of some one hundred men to the area. Following Rutherford's route, this contingent �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 113 reached the ford on the Tuckaseigee River taken by the earlier army, but Moore and his men continued west until they reached the Cherokee village of Stekoa. They destroyed it, crossed the river, and following a trail to the Oconaluftee River, destroyed the villages and camps encountered along the way. This part of the campaign was a comparatively short one, for Moore and his men, finding their rations running low, turned back east. They had left the fort on October 29, and on November 7, Captain Moore reported to General Rutherford that the assignment had been completed and that the scorched earth policy had been accomplished in the Middle Towns.15 Williamson had been late in joining Rutherford since he had been delayed in the campaign through South Carolina and Georgia by strong Cherokee and Tory opposition, made especially ruthless by the additional lawless adventurers and marauders.16 Yet Williamson had been successful in destroying the towns of the Lower Cherokees and in leaving the district in ruins as Montgomery had earlier done. The campaign of Colonel Christian in the Over Hill section also resulted in utter defeat for the native Americans there, and all villages were blotted out except the sacred town of refuge, Echota, which was also the Cherokee capital. Altogether in this 1776 campaign, sixty-six Cherokee villages and towns were destroyed.17 This Cherokee uprising had brought the Revolutionary War to Western North Carolina in one of its most dreaded forms. Now, although the Committees of Safety and the militia units earlier organized in the Watauga Settlements would have to continue combating sporadic Cherokee raids, the general uprising had been quelled (and with a minimum of white casualties). Rutherford's forces went east. The loss of life to the Cherokees during the march of the white forces through their territory was also small. But their casualties grew during the winter that followed when the homeless people existed on roots and berries found in the forests and constantly suffered from exposure and disease. An unknown number of them died during that mountain winter. Sadly disillusioned with the English promise of restoring their lost lands and stunned and weakened by the crushing blows struck by the American forces, the Cherokees knew that they had once again lost all bargaining power with the whites. Bowing to the inevitable, the chiefs of the Lower Section signed a treaty with the new American Republic on May 20, 1777, at Dewitt's Corner, �114 / Chapter Seven South Carolina. Through it the Cherokee nation lost all of its remaining territory in South Carolina except for a narrow strip along its western border.18 Two months later the chiefs of the Middle and Upper Towns went to the Long Island of the Holston and there made a treaty with Virginia, granting further concessions of their land in Kentucky.19 At this time they also made a treaty with North Carolina which relinquished forever all claims to hunting grounds east of the Blue Ridge and which made permanent the grants of territory made to the Watauga Settlements, including various areas which for some time had been disputed territory. In this treaty North Carolina arranged to purchase the eastern portion of the Cherokee lands with goods to be delivered at such a time as the financial condition of the new state would allow. Until that time, when a new treaty was to be concluded, white settlers were not to take up land in the area.20 The once vast domain of the Principal People had dwindled to little more than the homelands in the Middle and Upper sections. Only a fraction of the Lower section remained, and the great hunting preserves were forever gone. Throughout 1775 and 1776 a trickling of pioneers from west of the Blue Ridge joined friends and relatives in the eastern foothills and entered the American army. Some of these volunteers were with Howe's unit when General Charles Lee's forces successfully defended Charleston against an attempted British invasion in 1776.21 Many, of course, were members of Rutherford's western campaign, and some of those went east with him. Others followed in the next few years. But on the whole, the settlers in Western North Carolina, even after the Cherokee punishment, remained on the frontier. The western frontiersmen were ever alert to the possibilities of fresh Indian uprisings, and in their own forthright way they dealt with the desperadoes and Tories in their area. When feelings against the Loyalists rose to the fighting pitch, the king's men fled to the mountains where they hid in rocky shelters, living on the game they could shoot, on stolen cattle, and on the crops foraged from the nearby farms. To most of the pioneers the words "Tory" and "Loyalist" came to embody everything that was despicable. The defeat of the Tories at Moore's Creek Bridge early in the conflict had kept the British troops out of North Carolina, while at Charleston Lee had discouraged their activity in South Carolina; after 1776, the main fighting was done farther north. But the South was not to be spared, and on February 26, 1780, �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 115 Charleston was besieged a second time. General Benjamin Lincoln's troops, in charge of the city's defense, held out until May. Then the city fell, and the American forces—officers, regulars, militiamen—became prisoners of the English. Lord Charles Cornwallis, British Commander in the South, was left in command of the city and of the section.22 His plan was to subdue South Carolina and then to enter the piedmont area of North Carolina. For support in carrying out his plans Cornwallis relied upon the Tories and Loyalists in the regions through which he would pass. He was not then aware of the deterring power of many small bands of aroused Patriots under leaders who knew the territory throughly. But he was to learn. Such North Carolina soldiers as Major Joseph McDowell, General Griffith Rutherford, William Davie, and General William Lee Davidson along with their Patriots became both hated and feared by Cornwallis and his British. For months their small bands carried out numerous surprise attacks on English units, upsetting British plans and hampering British movements, often preventing British regiments from getting supplies and from foraging about the countryside. These soldiers of the "back country" did much to put the fear of the Americans into the Tories in that region, and using methods learned from the Indians, they succeeded in being, if not an actual threat, at least a continuous nuisance to the advancing British forces.23 The frontiersmen could hinder and delay, but they could not stop the march of the Cornwallis army as it came westward and northward. Then at Camden it looked as though all the efforts of the "back country" men had been in vain, for the British commander, surprising the American army under General Horatio Gates, utterly routed the Americans, killing eight hundred and taking a thousand prisoners. This victory completed the conquest of South Carolina, and General Cornwallis and his army marched into North Carolina and entered Charlotte.24 This little village, he discovered, instead of being the rendezvous of Loyalists that he had been led to expect, was a veritable hotbed of seething opposition.25 Indeed, he found life in it disagreeable, at times well nigh unbearable. From Charlotte he planned to march his main army to Hillsboro, where supplies furnished by the Tories in the region were to be waiting. Considering the daily harassment by American Patriots that his men suffered, Cornwallis felt the need for extra help and ordered Colonel Patrick Ferguson to come from Ninety-Six with nine hundred �116 / Chapter Seven men and to form a flank defense to the west during the march. Ferguson was to enlist the aid of all Loyalists in the area just east of the Blue Ridge and was to subdue that region.26 Ferguson and his men arrived in North Carolina and took up quarters in Gilbert Town in the newly organized Rutherford County. Joined by Loyalists and adventurers, his soldiers foraged through the surrounding territory, stealing cattle, destroying crops, and taking a few prisoners, despite the efforts of small groups of settlers to hamper the troops by a series of irritating guerrilla raids. The defense of the foothill country depended almost entirely upon the settlers themselves, for after the disasters in South Carolina the Americans who had escaped imprisonment had returned to their homes. Among the escapees was a unit of men from west of the Blue Ridge recruited by Isaac Shelby. After driving the last "Rebels" (led by Colonel Charles McDowell) over the Blue Ridge and after a skirmish at Bedford's Mill in the present McDowell County, it must have seemed to Ferguson that the task of subduing the "back country" was nearing completion.27 Then he learned that beyond the precipitous Blue Ridge were entire settlements of these stubborn, freedom-demanding Americans, many of whom had already taken up arms against the British forces. Ferguson promptly released a prisoner and sent him over the hills with an ultimatum. Shelby was given the message and rode in haste to John Sevier's home on the Nolichuky River where the two men, in charge of the militia of Washington County, grimly went about their task of recruiting. Busy with the gathering of late crops and prepared as usual for a chance Indian attack, the pioneers dropped their tools and reached for their rifles as they listened to the account of destruction and havoc taking place east of the mountains. Then the look of cold steel glinted in their eyes as they heard Ferguson's ultimatum to surrender or "he would march his army over the mountains, hang their leaders, and lay their country waste with fire and sword." Up and down the valleys to all the settlements went the word to meet at the Sycamore Shoals of the Watauga River in the present Tennessee. And swift horsemen took the call to arms into the Virginia settlements.28 On the evening of September 25 they gathered at the Shoals, 240 strong, led by John Sevier, a like number led by Isaac Shelby, and 400 from Virginia under William Campbell, together with Colonel Charles McDowell and his 160 refugees. They were �TENNESSEE STA TE MUSEUM COLLfcC / ION, AV15hf I/ 1IX£; / ±:A A. Sycamore Shoals: Frontiersmen, aroused by Colonel Patrick Ferguson's command to surrender, gathered at the Sycamore Shoals (also called Flats) on the Watauga River on September 25, 26, 1780, From there, under the leadership of John Sevier, Isaac Shelby, and William Campbell, the Overmountain men grimly began their march against Ferguson's army. On the way they were joined by men from Burke, Rutherford, and Surry Counties. �118 Chapter Seven N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Isaac Shelby: Shelby, a prominent patriot, with John Sevier, in charge of the militia of the Watauga Settlements, led 240 frontiersmen in the march of the Overmountain men. At the Battle of King's Mountain he commanded one unit of the Americans. This picture is a copy of a painting. quietly determined men who had left their homes to face a disagreeable task. They were all men of the woods and hills, trained by necessity in self-protection, in quick decisions, in precise timing. They spared not a thought on uniforms and army equipment, and they had no time to enlist in the American army (even had any of them by chance thought of such action). To these settlers their immediate duty was clear and simple. The war had come to their mountains, to their homes. They would meet it east of the hills and either drive the "Tory Ferguson" from their land or force him to fight until he and his troops were destroyed. The next morning, outfitted in hunting shirts and deerskin trousers or in homemade linsey-woolsey clothes, the mountain militia was ready, armed with small-bore rifles and �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 119 ALBERT BARDEN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Joseph McDowell: Joseph McDowell of Quaker Meadows in Burke County took part in the Battle ofRamseur's Mill and the Battle ofCowpens. His home was the meeting place for the groups of Overmountain men. After refreshing the men with his fine home brew, he joined them as they followed Ferguson }s retreating army. whatever hunting knives and tomahawks they had been able to lay hands to. They solemnly listened to prayers offered by the Reverend Samuel Doak, a Presbyterian minister, and then marched southeast. Their simple noon meal was eaten, it would seem, at a spring on the grassy bald of Roan Mountain, and that night camp was made at Bright's Spring on Bright's Trail. At dawn they discovered that two of the men, William Crawford and Samuel Chambers, were missing. Breaking camp, the mountain men traveled down Roaring Creek to the Toe River, passed over the site of the present Spruce Pine, and crossing the Toe River, camped for the night at Grassy Creek. By September 29, they were at Gillespie Gap. Here, aware that Ferguson would by this time learn of their route from the two deserters, the group �120 / Chapter Seven divided, descending the mountain range by different paths, neither of which was the route originally planned. One section under Campbell continued along the crest of the Blue Ridge and then descended to Turkey Cove to camp for the night. The following day these men went on down to the Catawba River, crossed the site of the present Lake James, and reached Quaker Meadows, the home of Colonel Joseph McDowell. They were joined by the other section, which had spent the night at North Creek Cove and, after passing a couple of miles farther up North Creek, had crossed the southern end of Linville Mountain, descending the Blue Ridge by means of the old Yellow Mountain road. At Quaker Meadows they were joined by 350 men from Wilkes and Surry Counties, under Colonel Benjamin Cleveland and Joseph Winston. They were also joined by a small force from Lincoln County under command of Frederick Hambright, by volunteers from South Carolina commanded by James Williams and William Lacey, and by a few men from Georgia.29 In spite of his bold threat to the mountain men, Ferguson, upon learning of the gathering of the Americans, felt it expedient to appeal for help to Cornwallis (still at Charlotte) and to send to Ninety-Six for reinforcements. He then retreated. Now that a battle was imminent, the Patriots paused long enough to select a leader. At Shelby's generous suggestion, Colonel William Campbell was chosen, and on October 4 Charles McDowell set out to report to General Gates and to procure confirmation for the commanding officer. By this time the army had reached Cane Creek near Gilbert Town. Finding their progress too slow, the leaders selected the best men and the ablest horses and, taking no footsoldiers, pushed after the retreating Ferguson. They chose again, at Cowpens, a select group of riflemen—master marksmen—and pursued the enemy, who had gone northwest. At King's Mountain, only a mile and a half south of the North Carolina line, Ferguson ended his retreat and established camp on a stony ridge of the hill, which was protected by a steep descent covered with woods and underbrush. He no doubt felt secure in his mountain retreat.30 During the steady rain of that dark October night, the frontiersmen, accustomed to endure all kinds of weather and familiar with mountain terrain, continued their pursuit from Cowpens. Learning from captured spies the position Ferguson had taken and the uniform he was wearing, the nine hundred men �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 121 �FROM A DRAWING IN DRAPER'S KING'S MOUNTAIN AND ITS HEROES, PACK MEMORIAL LIBRARY, ASHEVILLE Ferguson's Death Charge: Ferguson, leading his troops, fell from his horse, the victim of bullets fired by men he had called "Bandits." �A New Flag for Western North Carolina / 123 were divided into four sections in order to ascend King's Mountain from every direction on the next forenoon. The units were instructed to advance in Indian fashion, from tree to tree, and the men were told that after the order was given to advance, each marksman was to be his own officer. Thus on the afternoon of October 7, Colonel Ferguson, like a doomed Macbeth gazing upon the approaching Birnam woods, saw the men scaling the sides of his mountain position. They were the very men of the back woods whom he had so lately defied. The opposing forces were equally matched in number, for Ferguson had 906 men, equipped with English guns and ammunition and bayonets. There was not a bayonet among the Americans, but these men had tracked wild animals in the forests and had more than once fought the Cherokees. Every shot from their rifles reached its mark. For an hour the fighting raged, the Patriots rallying after every repulse and reattacking so that their gain was fairly steady until they reached the top of the ridge. Ferguson, blowing his silver whistle to rally his disorganized troops, fell, mortally wounded by the bullets of the men he had called "Bandits." With their leader gone, the English army surrendered. The British counted 120 dead, including their slain commander, and 123 wounded. The remainder of their troops became American prisoners. The victors lost 28 men and found 62 of their men wounded, several of whom died on the way home.31 With their disagreeable task successfully completed, the men of Western North Carolina, riding or trudging, weary and footsore, began the trek back to their mountain homes. They could not know that what they had done that day was unique in the annals of war. An untrained, hastily-gathered militia of frontiersmen, members of neither their state's nor their country's forces, had utterly defeated a body of soldiers of equal size on a battlefield of the enemy's choosing. Except for a group of Loyalist volunteers, Ferguson's well-equipped soldiers had been trained in the army of a strong world power. The Patroits could not know that they had freed not only the "back country," but also their entire state from the British armies* control. They could not foresee that in this battle they had made practically inevitable General Cornwallis's surrender at Yorktown. Surprised and dismayed at the defeat of his protecting army to the west and realizing that English loyalty could no longer be counted in the piedmont section of North Carolina, Cornwallis withdrew from Charlotte and returned to South Carolina. That �124 / Chapter Seven winter, lured by the magnificently executed retreat of Greene's American forces, he led his army back across North Carolina where he won the costly battle of Guilford Court House in March. With forces weakened by losses incurred during the long winter march through unfamiliar territory and damaged by the too dearly won battle, Cornwallis led his troops east to Wilmington and then into Virginia where he reached Yorktown. There on October 19, 1781, he surrendered the British army to the American forces.32 The English flag that had flown over the colonies since the days of the English explorers—the flag that had been taken by Englishmen from the Atlantic Ocean to the farthest mountain settlement beyond the Blue Ridge—was seen no more in all the land. In its place over the cities in the east and over the mountain forts in the western hills there now waved a flag of red and white stripes and thirteen stars on a field of blue. �C H A P T E R E I G H T East-West Tug-Of-War X he return of the heroes of King's Mountain was neither as rapid nor as orderly as their advance had been. The British dead and wounded they had left on the field of combat to be cared for by the neighboring settlers. With them they took their prisoners and their booty, seventeen baggage wagons and some twelve hundred stands of arms. Their own wounded they carried on horse litters. The only surgeon in the two armies—an Englishman and now a prisoner—did the pitifully little that he could to relieve the suffering men during the slow trek. At least one of them—Captain Robert Sevier, a brother of John and possibly others—died on the way and was buried in what is now Avery County.1 Still keyed up to battle pitch, the men now became difficult to control, and small bands occasionally deserted the ranks to pilfer and burn property of known Loyalists. The Loyalist prisoners, too, came in for harsh treatment, and nine of them were hanged before the officers could enforce restraint. The remaining prisoners and baggage wagons were left with local militias east of the mountains as the men crossed to their homes to tell of their experiences and to break the news of death to the victims' families.2 It is doubtful that a single man among them thought of pay in connection with what he had accomplished, and most of them were perhaps surprised when the grateful states of Virginia, Georgia, and North and South Carolina publicly thanked them for 125 �126 / Chapter Eight N, C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY John Sevier; Sevier was the leader in the Watauga Settlements. In his own time he was a legend as an Indian fighter, as a local politician, and as a statesman. He commanded one unit of the Patriots at the Battle of King's Mountain. He served briefly as governor of the shortlived "State of Franklin," their heroic service and presented them swords.3 The impoverished state of North Carolina issued them certificates in the form of pay, but since these were worth only two cents on the dollar, they amounted to no more than a gesture of appreciation. Yet the freely given thanks of their states must have been a deep �East-West Tug-Of-War / 127 satisfaction to the western settlers and might have been pleasant to recall in the stormy, confused years that followed. These years would be filled with struggles and frustration, with repeated campaigns against the resentful Cherokees, with bitter factions in their own ranks, and conflict that bordered on revolt against the General Assembly of their own state. But of all this they were fortunately unaware as they trudged over the familiar hills on an October day, hoping, perhaps, for a bit of time for "lazin' 'round" and hunting. Such hopes were not quick to materialize, and the feverish activity of the coming years began when the men learned that what they had most feared had come to pass. Knowing that the forts of the white people were practically undefended and ignoring the pleas of their tribal leaders, bands of Cherokees from the Middle Towns had attacked the settlements. That meant just one thing—a campaign of retaliation. Under John Sevier and Arthur Campbell, seven hundred men met and soundly defeated the Indians in 1780 at a site near the present Sevierville, Tennessee. In March of the following year the intrepid Sevier with 150 picked men crossed the towering Smoky Mountains, and in a surprise attack utterly destroyed one of the chief towns on the Tuckaseigee River at the site of the present Whittier. On this compaign several smaller villages were also destroyed as were quantities of stored grain. That summer Sevier and his men felt it necessary to attack a camp made by the Cherokees near the present Newport, Tennessee, in order to prevent its use as a base for raiding parties. There, thirteen native Americans were killed. The Cherokees had had enough and sued for peace, which was granted. 4 But this peace was merely a lull in the chaotic relations between the settlers and the Cherokees. In 1782 Old Tassel of Echota begged Colonel Joseph Martin, Indian Commissioner and Brigadier-General in charge of North Carolina's militia in the west, to appeal to the governors of both Virginia and North Carolina to restrain their people from settling in the Indian territory along the Nolichucky and other rivers. It was, the Cherokee said, impossible to prevent raids on such settlements. Nothing seems to have been done about the plea, and white settlers continued to take up and clear land in the disputed area. This meant that Indian raids, followed by retaliatory campaigns, also continued.5 In 1783 the North Carolina General Assembly, eager to reward its Revolutionary soldiers with land grants, passed a law �128 / Chapter Eight that repealed the 1777 Treaty of the Long Island of the Holston and opened to white settlers land beyond the Blue Ridge as far west as the Pigeon River, extending to the French Broad and thence to the Holston and Tennessee Rivers. The land was to be paid for in goods to the Cherokees (as the state could manage it), and no grants were to be issued west of the designated line.6 Two years later, in 1785, the federal government concluded its first treaty with the Native Americans at Hopewell, South Carolina. For ten days the bargaining went on between the commissioners for the United States and the one thousand Cherokees gathered for the event. When the document was at last ready, thirty-seven chiefs signed it with their marks. In it the Cherokees acknowledged the sovereignty of the United States, and a boundary line was established that passed through the present Hendersonville, Biltmore, Marshall, and in a straight line, on to the Nolichucky River. A considerable strip of land formerly opened for white settlement by the North Carolina law of 1783 was now restored to the Cherokees. This first federal treaty also repudiated the Dumplin Creek Treaty that Sevier had that very spring forced upon the unwilling Cherokees. This treaty granted the settlers land lying to the south side of the Holston and French Broad Rivers as far south as the ridge that divides the water of Little River from the water of the Tennessee.7 Under the terms of the new Hopewell Treaty, white settlers in territory allotted to the Cherokees were given six months to evacuate their claims.8 Only the Cherokees were satisfied with this treaty. Four counties had by this time been organized in the western territory, and they had recently been formed by the General Assembly of North Carolina into Washington District, with David Campbell presiding over its newly organized Superior Court and John Sevier named as Brigadier-General of its militia.9 By the new treaty the district now found itself reduced in size. To the chagrin of its leaders, it was discovered that Greeneville, the town selected as a possible capital when or if the territory was made into the hoped-for state of Franklin, was now well within Cherokee lands. The District of Washington bluntly refused to recognize the Hopewell Treaty, and the so-called trespassers in the territory given back to the Indians made no move to leave. The Cherokees, as might be expected, made attempts from time to time to force the settlers out by attacking the farms and �East-West Tug-Of-War / 129 small villages. This, in turn, led to continued avenging campaigns by Sevier and his militia. North Carolina proper was likewise disgruntled by the new federal treaty with the Cherokees, holding that the new boundaries would fail to protect the grants already made to soldiers and civilians, (although the treaty did make provisions for maintaining the rights of those who had received such grants). The treaty that was intended to be a "peace settlement" settled nothing and brought no peace. The Indian uprising spread west to the little settlement of Nashville, organized in 1779-80, when James Robertson led a colony of pioneers from the Watauga Settlements to the site known as the French Lick. This aroused not only the western Cherokees, but also the more westerly Chickasaws, and the trouble soon involved small settlements along the Cumberland River. The assistance given by North Carolina (through its Brigadier-General, Joseph Martin, and through its militia) was always meager and often late in arriving on the scene. In fact, a few times Martin received no order from the state for his militia to join in the campaign; therefore, to insure the safety of the settlers, Sevier and his militia continued to carry out their campaigns against the Indians, who were now determined to force the settlers from their territory.10 On one of these campaigns in 1788 an unfortunate event led to severe criticism of the Watauga forces and their leaders. A young volunteer named John Kirk took it upon himself to avenge the brutal murder of his family by the Cherokees. While Old Tassel of Echota, his sons, and a companion chief were waiting in a shed for a conference with Sevier under a white flag of truce, the young man attacked the group and killed all of them. The violent deed of horror was deplored throughout the settlements, and the act was condemned by Congress and by several state assemblies. Needless to say, the infuriated Cherokees sought revenge, further intensifying the warfare between the two races contending for the possession of Western North Carolina.11 Not all of the problems that the western settlers confronted involved disputes with the native Americans. Becoming the first pioneers to isolate themselves from the more settled coastal areas, these mountain people had early developed a spirit of independence and had learned an attitude of self-reliance in decisionmaking. It is possible that, without the looming dangers of the oncoming Revolutionary War, the Watauga Settlements might soon have struggled for independence from North Carolina. Be �130 / Chapter Eight that as it may, they had petitioned the General Assembly of the state for recognition and by legislative act had become Washington County. Their representatives to the General Assembly all voted for North Carolina's first constitution in 1776. Both the representatives to the General Assembly from Washington County and the settlers themselves soon became aware that their interests and needs differed sharply from those of the eastern part of the state. They also became aware that the government of the new state would be dominated by eastern leaders and that the laws passed would serve the planters and business men of the settled coastal region. This realization created a feeling of resentment which in time grew into general dissatisfaction. There were many factors causing this east-west tug-of-war. The basic factor was geographic—a great distance lay between the settlements beyond the mountains and the seat of government and the seaports in the east. It had taken weeks for the pioneers to learn of events taking place in eastern North Carolina and in other colonies during the crucial days of the Revolutionary War. Roads, even in the eastern section of the new state, were in wretched condition as weary travelers repeatedly testified in the early years of the Republic. The colony and later the state made no provision for road construction except to authorize counties to lay out public roads and to establish ferries and designate bridge sites. Detailed road laws, conferring considerable power and responsibility upon the counties, had never been enforced. During the war all roads—poor at best—had been utterly neglected. Consequently even the main north-south artery through the state had become well-nigh impassable. Scant attention had been paid to possible highways to the west, especially since construction would entail bridging or ferrying the many streams flowing in northwestsoutheast direction. The obstacles to be faced were numerous, including clearing tangled forests, avoiding or crossing streams, and opening swamps while keeping up with maintenance on the trade routes already in existence. However, in 1755 a law had been passed by the colony authorizing the building of a road from Hillsboro and one from Mecklenburg County to the Cape Fear River. It had been urged by merchants hoping to profit by western trade. But until some time after the Revolutionary War, these roads, where an attempt had been made to lay them out, were scarcely more than trails and often poor trails at that. The old Pennsylvania Road to Virginia �East-West Tug-Of-War / 131 and Philadelphia, unsatisfactory as it was, continued to be the northern outlet of the piedmont and mountain settlers. The roads following ancient Indian trails along the Yadkin and Catawba Rivers still served settlers going to the southern port of Charleston. From east of the Blue Ridge the mountain men entered their own area on foot or on horseback over the trails used by earlier hunters and trappers and native Americans.12 This physical road handicap, deplored by the profit-conscious, eastern North Carolina merchants, meant that the settlers of both the piedmont and the mountains maintained a connection with Virginia and South Carolina rather than with their own state. It meant, too, that the cattle and hides, meal, wheat, butter, hemp, and herbs of the piedmont farmers and the furs and deerskins of the mountain men reached Virginia cities and Charleston. There they were exchanged for the manufactured articles, salt, and sugar needed by the western settlers. But it meant even more, for where their trade went, there to a marked degree, went also the loyalties of an ever-increasing portion of North Carolinians.13 Another factor driving a wedge between east and west was the difference in national background and interests of the two sections. Eastern North Carolina, by the time of the Revolutionary War, was a fairly settled region. Its people were largely English (with several generations of established Colonial ancestors) and Scottish Highlanders, together with a small number of French Huguenots who had arrived in the early eighteenth century. Many easterners owned large estates, and there was a substantial merchant class in the port cities. Through trade, the easterners had kept in contact with England; their sons were educated abroad, their clothes imported, and their homes supplied with furniture, hangings, linens, pottery, and silver from the leading manufacturers of England and France. Imported foods and wines supplemented the products of their own fine gardens. They held slaves as house servants and as workers on their plantations, some of 'which were extensive. In fact, the eastern section of the state had emerged from the pioneer stage and had attained a considerable degree of culture, with several fine private libraries, homes of architectural interest, and talk of an institution of higher learning. The cultured and wealthy class made up a decided minority of the state's eastern population, but at the same time, its members made up the ruling class. They dominated the General Assembly, which was held in the east, and succeeded in getting laws passed that benefited planters and merchants.14 �132 / Chapter Eight All of this was in complete contrast with the mountain section. The men and women living there were nearly all newcomers. They were predominately Scotch-Irish, arriving over the mountains from Philadelphia, Charleston, or from older piedmont settlements. In addition, there were Germans from Pennsylvania, Welsh, Irish, and more than a sprinkling of English. Many of these were first generation, European immigrants, and on the frontier, both east and west of the Blue Ridge, they were going through the "melting pot" process of assimilation into an American society. For them the difficulty and cost of transportation prohibited all the luxuries and most of the necessities of life. Their actual wants were reduced to a minimum, for they were pioneers carving out a way of life in wilderness valleys isolated from each other by towering ridges and hills. In the struggle against the mountains and forests there was no place for fineries, and even while fighting the Indians to keep the plots they had cleared, they sensibly adopted many of the native American modes of living. The mountain frontiersmen depended upon themselves for most of their manufactured articles, and were satisfied with the tools turned out at their forges and with the simple household effects that they put together. They were people of the forest, and the plantations of the east were outside their world and interests. They keenly felt that the danger from Indian attacks which hovered over them every hour of every day and night, an everpresent threat to life and to property, did not interest the eastern people or the state's eastern law makers. To them their own local government and their own militia were their assurance of life.15 Nor were these pioneers interested in slaves and the problems that slave holding involved. The economy of the mountains generated no need or desire for slaves. Small fields were cleared, a few at a time, and cared for by members of the families—always generous in number. Work, the hard work of a new country, was taken for granted and was to most of the settlers a challenge. When the crops were "laid by," there was hunting to be done by the men and spinning and weaving by the women. The neighboring settlers were always there to give a hand when work exceeded the strength of the family, while all rallied at the fort in times of danger to ward off Indian attacks. There was no class consciousness since all worked and all were poor in worldly goods but rich in energy and visions for the future. Each man was rated according to what he could do. Still another factor in the grievances harbored by the �East-West Tug-Of-War / 133 mountain settlers against the easterners was the matter of taxes. North Carolina in 1775 had been utterly unprepared for war and had emerged from the five-year conflict impoverished. In order to raise even a portion of its allotted soldiers for the Continental army, the new state had issued paper currency. Then with the cessation of all trade with England, the loss of bounties for naval stores, the lack of manufactures and with the general disruption of farm life and normal interstate trade, money became exceedingly scarce. The bills of credit issued by the state were made legal tender. But the state's paper money, like the currency issued by the Continental Congress, depreciated at an alarming rate, and prices soared to unheard of heights. Since the early days North Carolinians had been opposed to taxation, but the harassed, newly-formed state found it necessary to levy taxes, increasing them from time to time as the war continued and again during the hard-pressed years of recovery. Poll taxes were the ones first levied, followed by a general assessment on all property—land, buildings, animals, slaves, and investments. These taxes proved difficult to collect, however, partly because of the people's resentment and partly because of the scarcity of specie. The returns to the state treasury were disappointingly small; therefore, in 1780 the General Assembly in desperation passed a law setting the ratio for taxes to be paid in produce.16 With the exception of state representatives and a few other leaders, the mountain pioneers did not understand the economic basis for the drastic tax measures taken by the state. They saw no returns from taxation in their own areas and felt that money was far too hard to come by to be sent out of the mountains as taxes that would be used to benefit the east. The tax rates, too, they considered unjust, since cheap land of the west was taxed at the same rate as the more valuable property of the east. Western settlers depended upon their few exports to obtain necessities. They, likewise, resented paying taxes in salable products. Some of the westerners' complaints arose from the inefficiency and dishonesty of the local officers appointed by the government, but most of the grievances against their state grew out of geographic and economic conditions. These were problems identical to those faced by the piedmont pioneers following 1760. The Regulators, who had fled west of the mountains to escape taking the British oath of allegiance required after the Battle of Alamance, found themselves seething with the old �134 / Chapter Eight Regulator anger. Eventually, the westerners adopted much the same course of action taken earlier in the century by the protesters against English rule. With the success of the movement for American independence from England in mind, leaders west of the Blue Ridge began planning for independence from North Carolina. Such a step was not as radical as it might at first glance seem, for during the formation of a federal government to be set up under the Articles of Confederation, representatives of the thirteen states to the Continental Congress wrangled over the question of western lands. Those commonwealths without claims to frontier territory feared the future power of sister states when their wilderness lands should be developed, and they insisted that all such territory belonged, in reality, to the new nation. Naturally those states with western claims held other views. The heated discussions on this subject led to practical results of a compromise nature. The federal government recognized the rights of the individual states to their western lands but invited— urged would be a more apt term—those states to cede all such territory to the Republic. Several northern states responded to the appeal and in 1787 ceded western lands which the federal government accepted in 1789 as the Northwest Territory. During the agitation North Carolina had been urged to cede its territory west of the Blue Ridge, and the federal government continued to bring pressure to bear on the state.17 In the Constitution of 1776, North Carolina renewed its claims to all land granted to it as a colony under the Charter of 1663 and its additions in 1665. In so doing the state claimed the Pacific Ocean as its western boundary. But England in its treaty with France in 1763 had taken a more realistic view of those old claims "as farre as the Land extends itselfe" [sic] and had designated the Mississippi River as the western boundary of English territory. North Carolina made no attempt to enforce its claims to land beyond the "Father of Waters," and when in April 1784, the General Assembly agreed to cede its western lands to the United States, that river was its boundary.18 There was bitter opposition to the Cession Act, which offered the state's western land to the Republic. The law as passed, however, safeguarded the state from having the inhabitants and lands of the ceded territory increase its share of the national debt incurred during the Revolutionary War. It also provided that grants already made by North Carolina to its soldiers should �East-West Tug-Of-War / 135 be respected and that one or more states should be made from the area. A further precautionary clause was added. If the area were not accepted by the federal government within twelve months, it was to revert to the state of North Carolina, and in the meantime the state was to continue its control of the region. The Act reached Congress too late in that session to be acted upon, and its opponents gained enough strength in the interval to have it repealed when the General Assembly of North Carolina met in October.19 It was at this session, in a gesture of appeasement, that the state's western counties were organized into the Washington District, made up of four counties. As early as 1782 Colonel Arthur Campbell, a leader in the Watauga Settlements, proposed a meeting to determine the settlers' sentiment on the question of forming a new state. Nothing came of the proposal. But in August, 1784, after news of the Cession Act had crossed the mountains, a convention met at Jonesborough with John Sevier as presiding officer. Davidson County was not represented. A second convention met in December at which a constitution modeled after the 1776 North Carolina document was drawn up for six months' consideration and at which the proposed state received the name of Franklin. During this session news arrived of the repeal of the Cession Act. The disappointed delegates promptly sent a memorial or formal request to Congress asking that the territory be made into a state. The convention and the memorial angered the easterners, and Governor Alexander Martin roundly censured Arthur Campbell as the instigator of the movement.20 Campbell then withdrew from active leadership, but in March, 1785, a third convention at Jonesborough set up a government under the temporary constitution. John Sevier was elected governor. Correspondence between Governor Martin and "Governor" Sevier became equally bitter and threatening on both sides. But the unauthorized state continued to function locally, and Sevier concluded the Dumplin Creek Treaty between the new state of Franklin and the Cherokees of the Middle Towns. In May it sent still another request to Congress, and in August the Franklin Assembly met to adopt a permanent constitution.21 By this time the western settlers had split into two camps. Those led by Sevier claimed gross neglect on the part of North Carolina and demanded immediate secession from North Carolina, hoping for early recognition by the United States. Those under the leadership of Colonel John Tipton were equally �136 / Chapter Eight eager for a new state but felt that its formation should come through the regular channels set up as national policy. Accordingly, this latter group advocated urging North Carolina to cede the territory to the Republic as Virginia had recently ceded its land of Kentucky. They favored the organization of a government that could function as soon as a new state should be authorized by Congress. Confusion now entered the ranks of the pioneers as each faction drew up and adopted its own constitution. The document sponsored by the Sevier adherents and modeled after the North Carolina Constitution of 1776 was adopted in November, 1785, by the "State of Franklin." But for the next few years a virtual state of civil war existed in Western North Carolina, with some counties having two opposing sets of officers.22 Inevitably the difference between Sevier and Tipton and their respective followers increased in bitterness until it reached open conflict and the shedding of blood. In 1788 Sevier was arrested by Tipton enroute to Jonesborough and taken under guard to Morganton for trial as a traitor to North Carolina. But there Sevier was among friends of King's Mountain days. The irons were removed from his hands and two of the McDowell family put up bail. Dr. James Cozby arranged an escape, and when Sevier rode openly out of the village, Judge Waightstill Avery made no move to pursue him. With Sevier *s return to his home on the Nolichucky River, the period of civil strife continued while he and his militia carried on their campaigns against the Cherokees. To add to the general confusion, the Spanish, who controlled the mouth of the Mississippi River, threatened to close the river to American trade, an act that would vitally affect the new settlement at Nashville and those on the Cumberland River. Rumors circulated meanwhile of a possible new country to the west.23 The harassed State of North Carolina, bombarded by both Congress and the westerners with demands for ceding the area, answered by censuring the pioneer leaders and appealing to their followers. In 1788, as a gesture of conciliation, the General Assembly passed an "Act of Oblivion" covering the unhappy events of the past few years in the western settlements. But it charged that John Sevier could hold no more offices. Strangely enough, during the stormy existence of the "State of Franklin," except for a few months in late 1784, every western county in the new "state" was also represented in the General Assembly of �East-West Tug-Of-War / 137 North Carolina. Among the representatives at times were both "Governor" John Sevier and John Tipton. Following the act debarring him from office holding, the undaunted Sevier appeared as usual at the next session of the North Carolina Assembly and was seated and became a delegate to the convention called to reconsider the state's ratification of the United States Constitution. He voted for ratification. 24 By 1789 the opposition in the General Assembly to the cession of its westernmost lands was weakened, and the state offered the territory included in the old Washington County to the federal government without reservations. It was accepted and organized as the Territory South of the Ohio. In 1794 the Territory ot Tennessee was formed, and William Blount was appointed by President Washington as the territorial governor. In the following year the territory became the state of Tennessee, the first new state to be admitted to the Union from ceded western lands. John Sevier was elected its first governor.25 Western North Carolina, which had at one time extended to the Pacific Ocean, had shrunk in 1763 to the Mississippi River and again in 1789 to its present western boundary. The state had lost most of the estimated 25,000 settlers living west of the Blue Ridge except for those along the Watauga River in the present Watauga County and those who had crossed the mountains after the Revolutionary War to take up land opened to soldiers and other settlers east of the ceded land. The men over the mountains had been a continuous thorn in the flesh of the General Assembly of North Carolina. In addition, the state had been in a turmoil over the questions of whether to ratify the Constitution drawn up and adopted at the Philadelphia Convention in 1737. There was bitter opposition to it on the grounds that the central government for which it provided would restrict the rights of the state governments. It was also feared that under it agriculture would be sacrificed to business and industry, and that its methods of electing the president and senators would eliminate government by the direct vote of the people. Moreover, the new constitution had no bill of rights and failed to insure democratic principles vital to the young Republic. It was not until July 21, 1788, that a convention to consider it met at Hillsboro. There the delegates drew up a bill of rights and passed a resolution stating the necessity for such a bill. They declared that after such a bill had been presented to Congress, there should be another federal convention called to consider �138 / Chapter Eight needed changes. Not until that had taken place, the resolution stated, could North Carolina ratify the document.26 But before the meeting at Hillsboro had opened, ten states had already ratified the constitution, one more than the required three-fourths majority. The new Constitution had already become the law of the land, and North Carolina, like Rhode Island, was a commonwealth unto itself, out of the union of states. For a brief period, therefore, Western North Carolina was a part of an independent state. That was far from a desirable status, however, and on November 21, 1789, a second convention at Fayetteville voted by an overwhelming majority to ratify the Constitution. By this vote the present mountain counties became a part of the twelfth state in the Union. �C H A P T E R N I N E In Search of Beauty—An Interlude It is pleasant to contemplate that during the frenzied, war-torn years and the dreary time of recovery between 1760 and 1800, a few people entered Western North Carolina on missions other than those of profit or destruction. It is also encouraging to know that some white travelers had neither sinister intentions of exploiting the natives nor of planting unwanted settlers within the confines of the Indian nation. Some whites had no idea ot persuading reluctant chiefs to sign their marks on papers, depriving the Principal People of century-old rights. These unusual "tourists" to the mountains were in search of beauty. Early explorers, understandably enough, wrote rather copiously of the extreme hardships of travel across the towering ridges and through the mountain section. A few of them went no further in their description of the country; yet some of them interspersed their accounts of struggles against the mountainous terrain with expressions of appreciation for the majesty of the green-clad hills, the arched beauty of the domed balds, the lush greenness of the valleys, and the music of the rushing streams and rivers. Such descriptions reflect the sense of marvel the travelers experienced at the sight of the prodigal abundance and variety of vegetation with which nature had endowed Western North Carolina—vegetation which, during the long centuries of Indian occupancy, had not been mutilated or destroyed. 139 �140 / Chapter Nine traders in the region. Surely, it must have been comparatively easy for colonial traders to transport and deliver goods to the Indian tribes south and east of the Blue Ridge, even to the Cherokees of the Lower Towns. But men like Ludovick Grant, James Beamer, Robert Bunning, and James Adair, as well as scores of others, after once entering the mountains of Western North Carolina were held there largely by the spell of the country. They endured the slow and tortuous travel along narrow, steep, mountain trading paths for the compensating satisfaction derived from the countryside itself. They became North Carolina's first white mountaineers. The possibility of metal resources in the area had attracted the Spaniards to the mountains in the sixteenth century, undoubtedly the first white men to enter them. Later English and colonial explorers and travelers were ever on the alert for evidences of gold, silver, and other useful metals. Sir Alexander Cuming on his trip gathered rock specimens to have assayed in England, and John William Gerard deBrahm foresaw the extensive mining that could develop in Western North Carolina. He saw, too, the possibilities of the rich, varied vegetation, once the land came into the hands of the Europeans. Soldiers who were brought into the region by the campaigns against the natives, like Henry Timberlake, wrote of the wealth of products already produced by the Cherokees and spoke of the beautiful gems reputedly held by the Indians for their ceremonial rites. From these travelers and from accounts given by traders during their occasional trips to port cities, citizens of Charleston and Virginia cities learned of the riches locked in the hills. They also learned of the beauty of the towering ranges and the lush valleys. Merchants and officials traveling to England spread the news of the treasures to be found in Western North Carolina. So it was that Josiah Wedgwood, English manufacturer of fine, semi-vitrified pottery and of the nation's most prized chinaware, learned of a superior grade of clay that the Cherokee Indians of Western North Carolina owned and possibly mined. After testing a sample obtained from the area, he realized that the American product was vastly superior to the clays he was using. He resolved upon an expensive course of action to get a sufficient quantity of it to make more beautiful and lovely and delicate the products of his factory that were finding their way into the palaces of royalty and the homes of the discriminating and wealthy. Accordingly, in 1767 he hired Thomas Griffiths of �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude / 141 Charleston to make what arrangements were necessary with the Cherokees to procure a supply of the Indian clay. With Grant's destructive raid still fresh in their memories and protected by King George's line of demarcation at the Blue Ridge, the Cherokees were unwilling to have white men other than traders enter their territory. But Griffiths undertook the mission and left Charleston in October for the mountains. He had been told that the clay would be found in the Joree mountains—now called Cowee—near an Indian village named Ayoree. Within a month he had located the mine and had made an agreement with the Indians to buy a quantity of the clay. Gaining that agreement had not been easy, for in addition to their reluctance to bargain with any white man, the Cherokees were suspicious of any one coming for clay since, as they told Griffiths, white men had been there before for this purpose and had taken off much fine clay with only promises as payment. But this Englishman proved to be a man of tact and diplomacy. He conveyed to the chiefs that he had come from the English King, who a few years before had been happy to entertain their Great Warrior, Ostenaco. With good will thus restored, Griffiths was allowed to proceed with his mission.1 For three days he and his men worked strenuously to remove the debris in the pit. He estimated that before reaching the object of their search they took out ten or twelve tons of rubbish and dirt, evidence that the Indians had not used any of this clay for some years. It was also evident that earlier people, perhaps whites, had removed a considerable amount at some time. When Griffiths was ready to excavate what he planned to mine, a period of autumn rains set in, which he and his men endured with impatience. When conditions again allowed digging, he found it necessary to discard what he had and replenish his supply. Then he loaded the precious earth—five tons of it—on the backs of stout little pack horses, some 150 to 200 pounds to the horse. He paid the Cherokees for their fine product, and set out in a long caravan for Fort Prince George where the loads were taken by wagon to Charleston. By the time slowly drawn wagons reached the port city, it was February, and Griffiths gave himself a month's holiday in the active little city before taking the clay to England. In England much interest attached to the import from Western North Carolina; even the King made inquiries about its use. The reply sent to his Majesty by the artist-manufacturer was that the American clay was used in every piece of his jaspers, his finest products. He rightly foresaw that these would need only �142 / Chapter Nine time and scarcity to command any price one might ask for them. Today a marker designates the site in Western North Carolina, near Burningtown, where Josiah Wedgwood got the supply of fine clay which under his master hand, became the prized possessions of kings and noblemen.2 Seven years later, the first of several botanists to visit Western North Carolina came to revel in its spring splendor and to gather and classify many of its rare plants. He was William Bartram, a Quaker, of Philadelphia, and his trip was sponsored by Dr. John Fothergill, a well known Quaker physician of London. Eighteenth century Europeans were garden-conscious, and in the second half of the century a craze for formal gardens with sweeping vistas and with unusual hedges arranged in intriguing mazes spread over England and the continent. Even earlier there had been an awakening to the decorative possibilities of both the garden and the flower arrangements it afforded for the home. This had given rise to the profession of nurserymen. In 1730, for example, Robert Furber of Kensington published a catalogue, not only listing the plants and shrubs he handled, but also containing prints of flower arrangements suitable for home decorations each month of the year. Housewives of all classes were soon getting flowers from their cutting gardens and grouping them in a variety of containers— Wedgwood jaspers, brass, porcelain, glass, delft bricks, fingered posey holders—to add to the interest of their rooms. Owners of fine gardens became intrigued with the idea of new and startling effects and sought strange and exotic plants and shrubs from distant countries with which to add charm and distinction to their grounds. This interest in landscaping spread to the colonies, and many are the accounts in old ledgers of orders made by colonial planters and farmers for European fruit trees, ornamental shrubs, and rare plant seeds. Both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, farmers of Virginia, recorded the pleasure with which they received such orders and the care which they bestowed upon their imported plants.3 But the transfer of flowers, shrubs, fruit trees, and ornamental plants was far from one-sided. English and European garden owners were held spellbound by stories of nature's lavishness in plant forms in the southern colonies. Now and then one was willing to incur the expense of sending a botanist-collector to the region for specimens with which to "embellish" his estate. Interest in botany was rather widespread, and the work of �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude / 143 Linnaeus in 1753 greatly aided botanists in making accurate records of their findings. He established a binomial system of nomenclature, giving each plant and animal two names, one for the genus or family and one for the species or individual.4 In America the best known botanists and nurserymen were the Bartrams of Kingsessing, Pennsylvania, whose fine gardens were visited by Europeans and colonists alike. John, the father, and his son, William, were scholars and were continuously gathering and classifying the rich plant offerings of America. They were in constant correspondence with English horticulturists and gardeners and had a large group of English patrons like Peter Collinson, Quaker wool merchant of London. Collinson not only bought from them American plants, shrubs, and seeds, but also introduced these imports to other garden lovers. Prospering in their business, the Bartrams opened a second garden in Charleston. In 1773 the firm was commissioned by Dr. Fothergill to search in Florida, the western Carolinas, and Georgia for rare and useful flora, which the London physician wished to use in his garden at Upton, near Stratford. That garden was the physician's prize possession, for in variety of specimens and beauty it rivaled the Kew Gardens. It may be that Fothergill also hoped to find some new medicinal herbs among the collections sent by the Bartrams. For several years, then, either John or William Bartram, occasionally both, made excursions into the designated areas with rich flora rewards.5 It fell to the lot of William, in 1775, to make the western trip that would take him into Western North Carolina. On April 22, he set out from Charleston. He was at this time thirty-six years old, a man of learning and charm and with the deep respect for people that his Quaker beliefs inspired. He was supplied with letters of introduction to the Agent of Indian Affairs and was well provided by temperament with a love for adventure and a keen appreciation of the beauties of nature. Moreover, he had a flair for transferring his enthusiasm and delight to the pages of his notebooks and from them to the record he later wrote. This account must have given sheer pleasure to the eighteenth century reader as it does to the modern historian.6 From Charleston, Bartram followed the old trading route along the Savannah River, veering off at times to make observations and to gather specimens. By this route he came to Keowee, the new Keowee that had risen after the destruction of the old capital in 1760. After some time spent in this area, Bartram �144 / Chapter Nine APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY A Carpet of Ferns: Open glades in the forest provide room for the waving plumes of ferns. William Bartram on his journey through the mountains of Western North Carolina doubtless saw and delighted in such displays. did not wait for the return of the hunter who was to conduct him over the mountains, but went on alone. He must have felt uneasy as he entered a wild, lonely country whose inhabitants, he knew, were becoming increasingly unfriendly to the whites and who certainly would be suspicious of a stranger who peered around rocks and gathered plants and roots, Bartram realized how terrible had been the animosity between the races fifteen years before as he passed the desolate ruins of towns and orchards in the Lower Cherokee lands where the forces of Colonel Middle ton had struck telling blows. His record remarks that Fort Prince George, across from Keowee, now bore little resemblance to a fort and was used only as a trading post. Bartram also wrote that the old Keowee, which had once strung along six or eight miles of the river, was now only the tattered remains typifying the fall of a once mighty race. He knew, however, that there was still strength enough in the Cherokees to flare up into real war. But it was the month of May, �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude I 145 and the mountainsides were aflame with azalea blooms, and the meadows were a rich carpet of ripe strawberries. He put aside his misgivings and turned his attention to the beauties of nature and the pleasantness of his task. Later in the wilds of Western North Carolina Bartram found hospitality awaiting him. He spent the first night in the area— May 21—within the shelter of a hunter's cabin a mile or so north of the Georgia line. The next afternoon, quite by chance, he met a white trader who took the botanist to his home for the night. The following morning, fortified with a hearty and delicious breakfast, he went on to Estatoe and then on the three miles to Nikwasi. A few miles farther he reached Whatoga, where the chief of the village, a gracious host, smoked a four-foot peace pipe with him and then accompanied him for some miles on his way to Cowee, at the present West's Mill. Cowee, he found, was a town of about one hundred houses built along the Little Tennessee River and was at this time the capital of the Middle Cherokees. There, through the letters he carried, he met and was most cordially entertained by a greatly respected and trusted Irish trader named Galahan, who had long lived in the mountains. After an agreeable visit in Galahan's home and after his rambles about the area (during which he made observations and classified flora), Bartram set out alone on the path along the Little Tennessee and across the Nantahala Mountains toward the Over Hill Towns. Twice during his progress along the trading route the botanist had occasion to feel alarm. He records that, once, while resting, he was surprised by the unannounced appearance of a young Indian, rifle in hand and accompanied by his dogs. But his fears proved groundless, for the hunter, after asking some questions, accepted tobacco that Bartram proffered him, shook hands with the white man, and proceeded "chearfully" on his way. The second occasion also came suddenly. According to his account, he saw to his dismay a company of mounted Cherokees approaching along the narrow path. As they neared him, he saw that the central figure was Attakullakulla, or "Little Carpenter." With the courtesy that was a part of his nature, Bartram turned off the path to let the party pass. The "Grand Old Man" of the Cherokees was touched by this gesture of respect and drew up his horse. Clapping his hand to his own heart, he then offered it to Bartram in the Cherokee symbol of friendship and introduced himself. The botanist responded, saying that he was from �146 / Chapter Nine APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Carolina Clouds: Witnessing scenes like this, early botanists and other scientists coming into the mountains must have felt they were indeed above the clouds. After a violent thunderstorm, William Bartram noted in his Journal that the mists "Smoaked (sic) through the valley and over the resounding hills." Pennsylvania where the name of Attakullakulla was revered and where the Cherokees were considered brothers of the white men. The chief then inquired of John Stuart, Superintendent of Indian Affairs, saying that he was even then on his way to Charleston to see Stuart. Bartram in turn explained that he carried letters of friendship to the Indians from Stuart. After these pleasant remarks, the old chief welcomed Bartram to his country, and the party continued on its way while the scientist resumed his journey to the Over Hill Towns. He again became uneasy, and as he rode along the feeling of disquiet increased. He knew that Attakullakulla was on a mission to Charleston, hoping to gain a peaceful settlement of the strained relations existing betweefi his people and the whites; he knew, too, that the fine old Peacemaker would fail to obtain his desires. Already Bartram had much information about this region and had �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude I 147 a goodly supply of specimen—plants, roots, some seeds—to dry for the Bartram herbarium of American flora. He had classified dozens of plants and trees. It seemed pointless to go into the Over Hill section, where the feelings against the Americans were especially strong. Obeying his better judgment, Bartram turned back, retracing his route to Keowee and from there to Charleston. In the present Swain County on the highway that follows the ancient Cherokee trading route a simple marker calls attention to the spot at which two great men met on that day in late May. It reads: "William Bartram, Philadelphia naturalist, author, exploring this area, met the Cherokee chief Attakullakulla, May, 1776, near here." The year 1776 is doubtless an error made by Bartram in writing his account from notes taken on the trip. Those notes give the year as 1775. In June, 1776, the Cherokee warriors went on the warpath against white settlements. No white person would have been safe that May in Cherokee territory. During his mountain journey nothing escaped the alert eyes of the scientist, and with the keen joy of discovery he filled his notebooks with delightful details that, transferred to his account of the journey, enable the reader today to meet a vivid personality pulsating with life. His first view of Western North Carolina he got from the mountain he called Magnolia. From its top he looked in awe across the "Vale of Tenase" (Tennessee River valley), and he watched the clear water splash down Estatoe Falls. Later he paused to revel in the beauty of the "Vale of Cowee." Into his notebooks went not only the records of his findings and the classification of plants, but also remarks, it would seem, concerning all the objects he saw—and he saw everything. Bartram wrote of the delight he felt in seeing herds of deer, flocks of wild turkeys, the flashing wings of soaring birds, and of hearing the rich melody of their songs. His account describes the Cassine yapon, which the Cherokees considered a sacred tree, the rose rhododendron, and brings to life the astonishing variations in the shades and hues of the blooming wild azaleas and the delicacy of tiny mountain flowers. He transferred to paper the amazement he experienced in seeing such a variety of trees and the sublimity of the magnificent forests through which he passed. In crossing the mountains he had for the first time the unforgetable experience of seeing May disappear before his eyes until, upon reaching the top of the range, he was in late winter. Even a sudden and violent thunderstorm which drenched him could not dampen his spirits, �148 / Chapter Nine CLINE STUDIOS Azaleas: The botanist, William Bartram, in the western mountains in May, 1775, reveled in the beauty of the spring flowers. He wrote that the flame azaleas, splashing the mountainsides with their vivid colors, gave the mountains {t the appearance of being on fire. " HUGH MORTON PHOTOS Indian Pipes: The nodding Indian Pipes find their homes in nonacid humus. As plants of the woods, they refuse to be cultivated; Rhododendron: In the spring the white blooms of the Rhododendron Maximum reward travelers trudging rocky mountain byways; Galax: The shining leaves ofthegalax delight those coming to the mountains in search of beauty as William Bartram came in 1775. Today "galackers" find a ready market for these leaves. �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude / 149 and he notes that it "Smoaked through the valley and over the resounding hills."7 He mentions the glitter of mica and the sylvan charm of a group of native American maidens gathering wild strawberries and then splashing in the waters of a nearby stream. Bartram was alive, too, to the cultivation in the area, apparently surprised that he found so many fields. He reported that the soil was rich and fertile and noted the fields of beans and corn. He spent some time admiring the fine horses in a trader's "horse stamp." These animals, he was told, would be taken to Charleston for sale. His curiosity about Indian life led him to investigate and record his impressions of the villages he entered. He was very interested in the large, domed council house he saw in the village of Whatoga and noted that it was on an artificial mound. He passed and made note of the clay pit from which, he said, clay had been taken to England. The fine foods served him by the Cherokee wives of his trader hosts came in for comment, and his Journal shows that he especially enjoyed the wild strawberries covered with rich cream that they gave him. Yet in the midst of all this natural prodigality in which his very soul rejoiced, Bartrarn was saddened by the evidences he saw of what man had done to man in this majestic region. Soberly he viewed the rock-covered graves and the resting places of both whites and Indians who had given their lives in the two battles of Echoee during the "Cherokee War". He was appalled by the desolate ruins of the towns and orchards and of homes never rebuilt after Grant's march through the hills. Fortunately he could not foresee that further destruction would come to the hills in the autumn of 1776 when General Rutherford's punitive forces would arrive in retaliation for the summer attacks by Cherokee warriors on homes and villages of white settlers. In England in 1791 the account of his plant discoveries and his plant classifications in Western North Carolina, written from his notebooks, appeared in his Travels Through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West of the Muscogules or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Choctaws. In this volume also appeared the most complete and accurate list of American birds made up to that time. Through his account the entire region and age spring back into life, and it is surely permissible to assume that as he left this mountain country, he paused again on the summit of his Magnolia Mountain for a final view of the azaleas, splashing the sides of the mountain ranges with a kaleidoscope of flame and red and orange. As he remarked, they gave the region the appearance of being on fire. �150 / Chapter Nine After the Revolutionary War the French botanist, Andre Michaux, came to America on a mission sponsored by the French government to study and collect American plants. This was in 1785, and with the wealth of material to be found in the new republic, Michaux established a nursery at Bergen, New Jersey. To it he brought a vast variety of plants, shrubs, and trees, and from it he shipped choice specimens to his native country to be used in the garden of Rarnbouillet and Versailles. Two years later, he opened a second nursery at Charleston. That same year he followed the route taken by Bartram and entered Western North Carolina from Georgia, studying the flora along the Tennessee River. In the autumn of 1788 Michaux returned to Western North Carolina, this time veering north from the route and going to Camden, South Carolina, and then along the Catawba River. He made observations and classified plants around Morganton and Turkey Cove. He then crossed the Blue Ridge, exploring Yellow Mountain and later that year returned to the area by way of Charlotte, exploring the Blue Ridge and along the Toe River. Again in 1793 the French botanist was on a western trip, this time going as far as Nashville, Tennessee. Two years later, he visited Western North Carolina for the last time, covering the territory around Linville, Roan, and Yellow Mountains. 8 Francois Andre Michaux accompanied his father on some of the later trips and after his father's death in 1802 was sent back to America to study the forest of the country. Commissioned by the French Minister of the Interior, he explored fairly extensively in Western North Carolina, covering the area east of the French Broad River, Roan, Grandfather, the Black, Yellow, and Indian Mountains, and Table Rock. From that section the younger Michaux headed east over the Blue Ridge to Charlotte and then back to Charleston. Both of the French botanists wrote of their American discoveries and explorations. Andre published a volume entitled The History of North American Oaks, which was used later by his son in writing his book, Sylva Americana.** Still another naturalist was John Fraser, who explored the southern states during the years when one or both of the Michaux were carrying on their Western North Carolina observations. He was a Scottish botanist with a nursery at Chelsea, England. In the last years of the eighteenth century he had gone to Russia, where he had interested the aged Catherine in new and foreign plants. After her death Fraser was appointed by Paul, her successor, as his �In Search Of Beauty—An Interlude I 151 botanical collector and in that capacity traveled in search ot specimens with which to fill Russian gardens. Upon Paul's death, however, Eraser was not reappointed to that position, and in 1802 he came to America. He had been in America earlier, engaging in botanical research in South Carolina in 1785 and again in 1789, going west until he entered the mountains of Western North Carolina. In 1799 he was making observations around Roan and Grandfather Mountains, and he recorded that from the top of Roan he had been elated at gazing into five states—Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, North, and South Carolina.10 These early botanists would, of course, be followed by others, but they laid the firm foundation for any study of plant life in Western North Carolina that might be undertaken. It was the Bartrams who found and classified the Lost Camellia or Franklin Tree, and it was Andre Michaux who in 1788 discovered the rare Shortia, a discovery that was of great interest to scientists for a hundred years. Michaux found the plant only in its fruit stage, however, and botanists needed to see it in bloom in order to complete a life cycle description of it. It was not until 1877 that the delicate plant was found in North Carolina in full bloom. In addition, Fraser discovered on one of his explorations into this section of North Carolina the glorious rhododendron that he named the Catawbensis. The work of these men, together with the specimens they sent to various countries of Europe familiarized hundreds of people with the beauty of the mountains and attracted their attention to Western North Carolina. �C H A P T E R T E N With Their Goods and Chattels X he position of the Cherokees in Western North Carolina has from colonial times been a confused one. Their struggle against the encroaching white race was basically a desperate attempt to maintain their rights and status as a nation with a recognized national territory. Neither the English government nor the French respected this right of domain, and both included the area in their claims to American lands. The issue became more confused when England split the Cherokee nation into two units in separating the two Carolinas. Under a decidedly complicated and contradictory policy, both the Carolina colonies and the English government had the power of treaty making, thus tacitly acknowledging that the Indians were a responsible government unit, if not an independent nation. The Crown reserved the right of designating a boundary line between the races beyond which the colonists were forbidden to settle. But this responsibility was complicated by the Granville Grant that extended across the northern portion of North Carolina. Over this area North Carolina had no jurisdiction. Nor was the line of demarcation between Cherokees and whites strictly enforced, for the Watauga settlers crossed the Blue Ridge after that line was drawn and were allowed to retain the land that they cleared there. Moreover, this group of settlers made treaties with the Cherokees by which they purchased settlement rights and fixed boundaries without benefit of colonial or English sponsorship. The new state of North Carolina further divided the 152 �With Their Goods and Chattels / 153 the boundary line between the new state and the western territory passed through the Cherokee domain. Under both the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution, each state was given control over the native American lands within its borders, but the federal government reserved to itself the power of treaty making with the tribes and nations. Under this arrangement, North Carolina was free to dispose of lands declared by the United States Government as cleared ot Indian occupancy. The state tried to restrain its westward-bound settlers from infringing beyond the boundary limits, even though, as in 1785, the federal treaty narrowed the zone earlier declared open by the state. During the Revolutionary War, North Carolina had confiscated the Granville Grant, declaring the land not already allotted to settlers to be the domain of the state. That tract and its western lands available to white settlers offered to the hard-pressed state government a possible means of recuperating its depleted treasury. These areas also offered a means of paying its veterans of the recent war. It was largely for these reasons that the ceding of North Carolina's western lands to the Republic had been vigorously opposed, especially by the easterners. In 1780 the state took the first step in making use of the Cherokee country for the whites; the General Assembly passed the Bonus Act, which set aside an area to be reserved for veterans' grants, both those of the state's militia and those in the state's quota in the Continental army. In 1782 a supplementary act set the scale for the land allotments. Grants allowed to individuals ranged from 640 acres for privates to 12,000 acres for brigadier-generals.1 Following the passage of these laws, a commission was appointed to survey soldier claims. Many veterans took advantage of the Bonus Law, taking up land in Western North Carolina, some of which later became a part of Tennessee. Other lands cleared of Indians were soon opened to white civilians. This westward migration of both soldiers and civilians was given impetus by two treaties made between the federal government and the Cherokees. Under the terms of the Holston Treaty drawn up in 1791 at White's Ford, at the present Knoxville, Tennessee, the Indians gave up their claims to lands along the French Broad and lower Holston Rivers. This area included the sites of the present Knoxville and Greeneville, Tennessee, and Asheville, North Carolina. The second treaty, concluded in 1798, pushed the Cherokee �154 / Chapter Ten boundary westward to approximately the western boundaries of the present Haywood and Transylvania Counties.2 Thus, a decade before the beginning of the new century, the double barrier of towering mountains and the presence of hostile Indians, who for a century and a half had halted the white man's compelling urge to go west, had been conquered. Into the fertile valleys of the mountain country streamed men with their guns and axes, their little bundles of household effects, their wives and children. They were coming to these ancient hills to stay. North Carolina had earlier taken cognizance of the rapid settlement of the territory just east of the Blue Ridge. Land there had been opened to settlers since Tryon's line of demarcation of 1767; however, a sprinkling of westward-bound men and women had selected hornesites and built their cabins at the very foothills of the mountains before that date. Just when the earliest of these pioneers arrived is not known. But during the third decade of the century a few hardy frontiersmen were in the Yadkin valley, and a small number had settled on land west of the Catawba River. By 1740 the Brittain community in the present Rutherford County was the nucleus around which newcomers took holdings, and in 1742 at least one settler, Heinrich Weidner, and possibly others had taken up land in the present Burke County.3 During the next score of years these early settlers were joined by hundreds of immigrants who streamed into the "back country" from Philadelphia and Charleston until the valleys of the streams flowing east from the Blue Ridge were dotted with the log cabins of those crowding westward. These small pioneer communities weathered the attacks and massacres of the Cherokees during the French and Indian War. They were protected, although inadequately, by forts erected by the government or by the settlers themselves, such as Fort McGaughey near Brittain Church, Fort McFadden near the present Rutherfordton, or Fort Davidson, for some years the most westerly of English forts. As early as 1769 settlers along the upper Yadkin River petitioned the colonial government to be organized as a county. Yet it was not until January 26, 1771, that the authorization bill was passed creating Surry County from the northern section of Rowan County. That bill designated that the county court should be held at the home of Gideon Wright on the east bank of the Yadkin River. The bill also appointed Griffith Rutherford as one of the commissioners charged with surveying the boundary line �With Their Goods and Chattels / 155 between Surry and Rowan Counties. The new county was named for the Earl of Surrey. It extended westward to the Indian nation and took in a territory along the Watauga, the Holston, the Nolichucky, and the Clinch Rivers. Later, portions of Surry territory would be formed into new counties, while another section would become a part of the state of Tennessee. Over a period of years the seat of county government shifted from one small village to another. Then Dobson was selected as the permanent county seat and a courthouse was there built. Settlers in the new county were caught up in the Regulator movement and in May, 1771, a group of men went to join men from other counties who were gathering at Alamance Creek to confront Governor Tryon's militia. The Surry men, however, arrived too late to take part in the two-hour conflict known as the Battle of Alamance. But they were not too late to be forced to subscribe to an oath of allegiance to the colonial government. During the Cherokee uprising in 1776, several hundred men from Surry County, under Colonel Joseph Williams, joined the militia led by Colonel William Christian against the Cherokee Over Hill towns. There they brought widespread destruction to that section of the Cherokee nation. Other Surry men were in General Griffith Rutherford's punitive expedition against the Cherokee Middle towns. Throughout the Revolutionary War the county was the scene of conflicting loyalties. Many of the Scottish Highlanders who had earlier settled in the area remained loyal to the king and to the oath of allegiance that some of them had been forced to take following the Battle of Culloden Field. Governor Josiah Martin in 1775 stated that Surry was one of four counties that had made written pledges of allegiance to the colonial government and the English King. Gideon Wright became one of the county's most active Loyalists, while Tory sentiment was strengthened through the influence of David Fanning and the activities of his Loyalist militia. On October 8, 1780, Tories and Patriots clashed in an encounter at Shallow Ford (now in Yadkin County). Later that month some 160 Patriots led by Major Joseph Cloyd, defeated a gathering of Tories. Yet English sympathizers continued to keep conditions in the county unstable and in both the Battle of King's Mountain and the later Battle of Guilford Court House men from Surry fought on both sides. This division of loyalty existed �156 / Chapter Ten FROM STATE MAGAZINE, MARCH 17, 1951 N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY King's Mountain: This view of King's Mountain is from the valley below. The flag on the summit of the mountain marks the site of the battlefield. throughout the western settlements, creating conditions that would be long in the healing. At King's Mountain, however, Surry Patriots outnumbered the Surry Loyalists in Ferguson's forces. In response to Ferguson's demand for surrender, men from Surry under Major Joseph Winston, together with men from Wilkes County under Colonel Benjamin Cleveland, totaling about 350, joined the Overmountain men on their way to meet Ferguson's army. They took part in the Battle of King's Mountain. Both Major Winston and Colonel Cleveland, for the gallantry they and their men displayed in that battle, were later awarded swords by the new state of North Carolina. By the outbreak of the Revolutionary War, the everincreasing number of settlers now at the very foothills of the Blue Ridge clamored for the formation of new counties. Their arguments for establishing new governmental units were in all instances the same—their distance from the county seats. With the lack of roads, distance was a telling argument, and the law creating Rutherford County recognized its validity by stating in its first clause:"...the large extent of the County of Tryon renders the attendance of the inhabitants on the extreme parts of said county to do publick [sic] duties extremely difficult and expensive."4 The newly organized state of North Carolina �With Their Goods and Chattels / 157 answered the pleas of the frontiersmen by forming three counties. In 1777 Burke County was created from the sprawling Rowan County, with Morganton as its county seat. The following year Wilkes County was formed from Yadkin with Wilkesboro as its county seat, both county and village honoring John Wilkes. Wiping out the name of Tryon, which to many Patriots was synonymous with tyranny and oppression, the General Assembly in 1778 separated Tryon County into two divisions, designating that portion lying west of the Catawba River and south of the old Granville line as Rutherford County. The name honored Griffith Rutherford, hero of the Revolutionary campaign against the Cherokees. The county seat was for some years Gilbert Town; however, when the new court house was constructed in 1785, the present Rutherfordton came into being, known first as Rutherford Town.5 As soon as possible after the acts creating them, the new counties set up their county courts with the voters meeting in convenient homes. It was not until sometime after the Revolutionary War that permanent court houses were constructed. All three counties extended across the Blue Ridge and included the Cherokee country not yet opened to white settlement. 6 These new counties were caught in the lawlessness attending the last years of the Revolutionary War, a lawlessness that increased as Ferguson's army moved in. Neither the county governments nor the county militia units could check the sporadic acts of depredation committed as Patroits and Loyalists, often neighbors, sought vengeance upon each other. Several citizens, through their personal influence, were the preservers ot law during these troubled months. The success of the forces of the hillmen at King's Mountain had a quieting effect upon Tory activities. Some Loyalists, fearing the wrath of the Patriots, fled into the mountains or crossed the Blue Ridge into the western sections of their counties. After the war, many veterans and their families crossed the mountains into the present Watauga County and on to the Toe River valley. Coming from settlements in the Yadkin valley and from eastern North Carolina, Virginia, and Pennsylvania by way of the Pennsylvania Road, they found that a few settlers had preceded them. Who these were is not known, but some had entered the region before the battle of King's Mountain and had joined the Watauga men on their way to fight Ferguson. Others had come shortly after that battle. James Holtzclaw in 1780 and �158 / Chapter Ten Thomas Hodges in 1781 built cabins in the Valle Crucis area. William Miller, Nathan Horton, Ebeneazer Fairchild, and a Captain Jackson soon followed, and by 1790 there was a goodly sprinkling of newcomers in what is now Watauga County.7 The federal census of that year listed eighty families in the Toe River valley, making an estimated population of three hundred. This fertile region had early attracted hunters and herders, and it is probable that a few tiny cabins had been erected even before 1778. In that year, having confiscated the Granville Tract, the General Assembly made an effort to protect settlers in the Cherokee country by opening to white settlement all lands north of the divide between the Swannanoa and Toe Rivers and westward to include all known white settlements. By the end of that year four large grants of land in the Toe River valley had been made to John McKnitt Alexander and William Sharpe, who took them out as speculation land and did not take personal possession of them. In March of the following year Samuel Bright, a Loyalist, settled on land granted him near McKinney Gap. In addition to his hunting and bit of farming, he acted as a guide to men passing through the valley to the Watauga Settlements or to the land of Kentucky. The road he followed, no more than a trail but later to be known as a wagon road, was called Bright's Trail. Other settlers followed Bright into the region, the earliest being a group of Williams—William Wiseman, William Davenport, William Davis, and William Pendley. Together with those who later scaled the precipitous eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge and entered the valleys by way of McKinney and Gillespie Gaps, they took up the task of making life in this mountain-rimmed valley a selfsufficient one. Life for them was made up of hunting and trapping and clearing the land for the raising of needed crops. To a far greater degree than was true with most sections of Western North Carolina, the Toe River valley was a unit unto itself and was destined to remain so for many years to come.8 During the war years settlers along the Catawba and Broad Rivers must have looked with covetous eyes toward the mountain barriers, and almost certainly a few had now and then crossed the Blue Ridge to hunt in the mountain sections of their counties. News of the state's law opening up land to settlers in those areas was received with enthusiasm by some of these daring individuals, and they lost no time in taking advantage of it. The first of those known to have taken his family from Rutherford County due west �With Their Goods and Chattels / 159 across the Blue Ridge was Samuel Davidson, a member of the Davidson family that had earlier settled along the Catawba River. It was a family who had played a significant role in the history of that region. Its members, Patriots all, had taken part in the Revolutionary War. In 1784 Davidson crossed the Blue Ridge by way of Swannanoa Gap and built his cabin at the foot of Jonas Mountain. To this new home he brought his wife, baby, and a Negro house servant, and he cleared land for his fields. This area was "cleared of Indians," although the ruins of a former village could be seen where the Swannanoa River empties into the French Broad River. The region had once been a part of the Cherokees' vast hunting domain, and this fact soon spelled tragedy for the young veteran. A band of Indian hunters saw smoke coming from the chimney of a white man's cabin, and removing the bell from his horse, the Cherokees lured Davidson up the side of Jonas Mountain where from ambush they shot him. Hearing the rifle shot, the wife and servant hid during the day and then they made their way over the mountains to the fort. Some members of the Davidson family and some friends returned to find the body. After burying it, they searched for and found the Cherokees, some of whom they killed. So it was that the first attempt at a settlement southwest of the Blue Ridge was baptized with the blood of both races. In less than a year Major William Davidson, the twin brother of the slain Samuel, and Rachel Alexander, his sister, along with their families and several of their friends crossed the Blue Ridge from the Catawba settlements to take up grants of land where Bee Tree Creek enters the Swannanoa River. In 1787 William and James Davidson were granted 640 acres of land on both sides of the Swannanoa. To this valley came other families—the William Gudgers from the Watauga Settlements, the William Forsters from Virginia, the John Pattons, the Robert Pattons, and James Patton. The Bee Tree and Swannanoa settlements soon became the nucleus of a new county. Additional newcomers went into other areas, taking up land in the fertile valleys. Colonel David Vance, coming from Burke County, got a grant in Reems Creek valley. There he found that a few settlers had preceded him. Among these was John Weaver, probably the first white man to build his cabin in that area. Settlers continued to arrive in that valley, while still others took out claims in the Beaverdam valley. Among these were George �BOB LINDSEY PHOTO, ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE Mt, Pisgah: General Griffith Rutherford and his force of some 2,400 men passed this towering mountain on their punitive expedition against the Cherokees in 1776. To the veterans crossing the Blue Ridge after 1783 this 5,745 foot peak became a landmark. It was later given the name Pisgah, the biblical mountain from which Moses viewed the Holy Land. An enthusiastic guest at one of the later hotels declared that a view of Pisgah was "more effective than a dozen sermons," DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Pioneers from the Rutherfordton area, in crossing the Blue Ridge, followed this lovely Broad River and passed through Hickory Nut Gorge, Swain, David Killian, and in 1793, Bedent Baird. These two settlements were in Burke County, while the Bee Tree and Swannanoa settlements were in Rutherford County. 9 Other men chose their tracts of land around the present Asheville. Zebulon Baird, brother of Bedent, built his home near the French Broad River, while John Burton got several tracts, one of which was on the site of the present Asheville.10 To the south other communities were developing. William Mills (his Loyalist father had been a victim of the Patriots' wrath following the battle of King's Mountain) took out land along the river that today �With Their Goods and Chattels / 161 bears his name. Samuel Edney also made his home in what is now Henderson County and became the first resident Methodist minister southwest of the Blue Ridge.11 Others took out grants near the present Saluda. One of those was John Morris, probably the brother of Robert Morris, who had spent his energies and his fortune in the cause of American freedom. The extensive grants given him by the grateful new Government were both east and west of the Blue Ridge. The call westward was a strong one, and some of the men crossing the mountains went beyond the little communities already formed to get claims farther west. One of these was William Moore. In 1787 he was granted land in the Hominy Creek section, where he and his men had camped on their mission against the Cherokees along the Tuckaseigee River in 1776. On this 450 acre tract he built his home and near it raised a small fort tor protection against possible Indian raids. Today this is the site of the Enka Corporation. Moore was later granted land farther to the west. Settlers continued to enter the mountains, and in the same year that Moore was building his cabin, Jonathan McPeters was farming land on the site of the present Canton. When David Nelson, his bound servant, completed his indentureship, he in turn settled on Jonathan Creek. Here to the Pigeon River valley also came John Davidson, James Chambers, Robert Martin, and John Gooch. Other settlers followed.12 Still farther west were the extensive grants given to Colonel Robert Love and his brother, General Thomas Love. They made their homes on Richland Creek. The settlement that developed in that area became the nucleus of a community that would in time demand a new county, and Haywood County would eventually be formed with Waynesville as its county seat. By 1790 the region west of the Blue Ridge that had been declared "cleared of Indians" had a surprisingly large population. As mentioned earlier, one of the hardships of the pioneers was the difficulty of getting to their county seats. This was burdensome to all but especially so to the most westerly of the tiny settlements. Going either to Rutherfordton or Morganton meant a trip across the Blue Ridge over what were mere trails. Of the communities that had so far developed, the Bee Tree-Swannanoa and the Reems Creek-Beaverdam settlements were the largest. From these two groups petitions for a new county west of the Blue Ridge were sent to the General Assembly. In compliance with those petitions, a new county was created in January, 1792, and �162 / Chapter Ten FLORETTA BRUMLEY PHOTO Logs: A settler's first concern was his home. The trees he felled in clearing the acres for his crops became logs for his house, usually a cabin about 12 by 24 feet. Notched into place, these logs with their chinking insured a sturdy and warm home for his family. Some of these early cabins still stand, monuments to their builders' fine workmanship. was given the name Buncombe County, honoring Colonel Edward Buncombe. It included all of Rutherford County west of the mountains and most of the western part of Burke County. Buncombe extended westward to the Territory of Tennessee and southward from the present Mitchell County to the South Carolina and Georgia lines; for obvious reasons it was facetiously called "The State of Buncombe."13 As a compromise measure, the needed court house was built on a plateau between the two most populous communities and offered road access from all directions. As was the case in the newly created counties east of the Blue Ridge, this courthouse was a small, log structure. Adjacent to it were the prison and its �With Their Goods and Chattels / 163 exercise grounds and the public stocks. The new structure faced east approximately where today Patton Avenue enters Pack Square in Asheville. John Burton, called "The Father ot Asheville," from his holdings laid out a north-south street in front of it to be known as North Main and South Main. Those streets are today Broadway and Biltmore Avenue. Burton then sectioned off forty-two town lots.14 On January 25, 1795, John Brown reached Buncombe Courthouse on a trip through Western North Carolina to select and buy up speculation land. In his Journal he recorded, "there is a few cabins."15 These cabins described by Brown were places of business, and more would be erected. Zebulon and Bedent Baird arrived in 1793 after accomplishing the almost miraculous feat of hauling a wagon loaded with supplies over Saluda Mountain. They opened a store. In addition, George Swain built a little hatter's shop, and in his home James Patton served meals and offered lodging to travelers. Silas McDowell had a tailor shop, while Phillip Smith made wagons as well as tooling "shoes for men and horses, saddles and hats." Robert Henry, coming into the Swannanoa community, opened the first school west of the Blue Ridge. Also near this little group of business houses John Burton erected a grist mill, and Thomas Forster built a bridge over the Swannanoa River. Buncombe Courthouse had become a town. On a return trip to Buncombe Courthouse, land speculator John Brown was apparently unimpressed with the village and made the following comments in his Journal: "...this town stands a mile distance from the French Broad and a mile Below where the Swanno River empties into the Franch Broad the settlement is very thin and they live but very indifferently. We had very poor entertainment this town is but two days walk from the Cherokee nation [sic]." Brown was right in saying that the town was "thin." That was also true of the new county seats east of the Blue Ridge. Whatever skills and trades the pioneers brought to the shifting frontier, it was land that had motivated their coming. A merchant or a hatter typically rode into the village from his farm to ply his trade and at sunset closed his shop and rode home. Only later did homes appear on the streets of these little towns.16 Buncombe Courthouse had been named Morristown, but the name was not popular. When the town was incorporated, it was renamed Asheville, honoring Governor Samuel Ashe. In a few years there was noticeable growth in the village and as the only town west of the Blue Ridge, it acquired a post office in 1801, with �164 / Chapter Ten Jeremiah Cleveland as postmaster. In 1806 Asheville was made the distribution point for mail going to all parts of Western North Carolina, eastern Tennessee, to the western sections of South Carolina, and to northern Georgia. George Swain then became postmaster. The formation of Buncombe County promoted the growth of the entire region, and a steady stream of settlers entered the area through every gap in the mountains. Many of them had already taken out grants or secured them upon their arrival. Other newcomers merely picked out desirable sites for homes, felled a few trees, built their cabins, and began life in the mountains. Most of the grants were comparatively modest in size, but many enterprising North Carolinians and out-of-state settlers secured huge tracts of virgin land. Part of this was usually kept for themselves and their families, and a part of it they sold to new settlers. Since they had paid only fifty shillings per hundred acres for their lands, they were able, by selling in small tracts, to make a considerable profit. In order to sell their lands to advantage, they sometimes advertised in the eastern cities. This helped to increase the number of settlers entering North Carolina from other states. In 1795 John Brown of Lewistown, Pennsylvania, traveled through Western North Carolina. His mission was to select and purchase tracts of land for William Cathcart and George and James Latimer, eastern investors. In addition to purchases made for Cathcart and the Latimers, he succeeded in getting land for himself and for several local men whom he met during his travels. Brown meticulously kept a journal, which today is an invaluable source of information about the process of securing land grants. He wrote in detail, too, about the poor roads, the rivers he forded and reforded, the people he met, the villages through which he passed, and the "thinness" of the country. His record furnishes vivid word pictures of conditions in Western North Carolina during its pioneer days. At the same time men within the state and settlers in the counties through which Brown passed were also taking out speculation land. Among them were several members of the Davidson family, Robert Henry, Waightstill Avery, Lambert Clayton, and Ephraim George. These tracts varied in size. Perhaps the most extensive of the speculation lands was held by Tench Coxe of Philadelphia. His acres covered huge areas, both east and west of the Blue Ridge. There were others who held grants covering thousands of acres. �With Their Goods and Chattels / 165 With demands for land coming into the county seats almost daily, the county officials had difficulty in surveying, staking out, recording the transaction, and sending the necessary information to state officials. The fact that land was being sold both by the state government and by individuals and the incidence of numerous squatters caused some mistakes. Some lands were not surveyed, and some plots were never cleared with the state; therefore, vexing questions concerning land titles were in the making to plague citizens and lawyers of a later era.17 So astonishingly rapid was the influx of settlers into the opened Cherokee lands that early in the new century Colonel Robert Love and his brother, General Thomas Love, led a movement for the formation of a new county. These men had extensive holdings, one tract of which was in the area of Richland Creek, and they had built homes on the ridge above that stream. Others had settled near them. The Pigeon River community and the settlements along Crabtree, Fines, and Jonathan Creeks had likewise flourished. In their requests for a new county, these pioneers gave the same reason advanced for the establishment of Buncombe County in 1792. They declared that the distance from the courthouse in Asheville was too great for convenience at any time, and they argued that the roads were frequently, especially in the winter months, impassable. Thus an unnecessary burden was imposed upon those having to make trips to the county seat. A petition presented to the General Assembly by Thomas Love resulted in the passing of a law in December, 1808, authorizing the formation of a new mountain county from a portion of Buncombe County's western lands. The new county extended westward to the Tennessee line but was not open to white settlers beyond the Meigs-Freeman survey line of 1803. Robert Love donated the site for the courthouse and a lot for a church, and he suggested that the new town be named Waynesville, in honor of General Anthony Wayne, under whom Love had served in the Revolutionary War. The county was named Haywood in honor of John Hay wood, treasurer of North Carolina. By 1810 the settled part of the country west of the Blue Ridge had already reached the Cherokee boundary.18 Western North Carolina gained still another mountain county to the north when in 1799 Ashe was created by an act of the General Assembly. It was named for Samuel Ashe and the county seat, Jefferson, was a reminder to its citizens of the author of the Declaration of Independence. �C H A P T E R E L E V E N Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living J^ike the settlers east of the Blue Ridge, those crossing the mountains represented many European stocks. There were those of English descent like the Mills family, and many German names coming from Pennsylvania or directly from Europe appearing among the mountain settlers, including Shook, Gooch, or Weaver. In addition, the settlers of Dutch Cove from the Yadkin Valley were largely of German descent. There were Irish, like the Pattons, and Welsh families with names like Williams and Welsh. A few of the mountain people were of French extraction, and there were many Scotch-Irish, giving the region its dozens of names beginning with Mac. Entering the mountain area from the earlier settlements in Burke, Rutherford, and Wilkes Counties, from Virginia and Pennsylvania, from South Carolina, and from the Watauga Settlements, these pioneers were, on the whole, young men, single or with their wives and small children. Some of these new arrivals had been trained in the ways of pioneer life since childhood, and all of them came with an optimism based upon a faith in the future of the new country. Many of them had the ability, the personality, and the qualities of leadership that would enable them to mold the trends of events and thus to justify the faith of all. As they set about developing a 166 �Weaving a Homespun Pattern oj Living / 167 way of life compatible with their mountain surroundings, the days must have been adventurous, often exciting, and sometimes dangerous, but always hard. Behind them these men and women had left whatever conveniences and cultural advantages they had enjoyed, and individually as pioneers and collectively as communities, they were faced with building a social structure where none existed. Each man's immediate concern upon arriving at his tract of land was the building of his home. In most cases that meant first the task of clearing a suitable spot near a stream. The forest was boundless, and with so much clearing of fields awaiting his axe, a man could not dawdle over the construction of a house to shelter his family. If a dwelling could be made warm and safe, it would do until the head of the household had the time to enlarge it or to build a bigger one. As a result, the first houses were almost unbelievably small. Often only twelve or fourteen by sixteen or eighteen feet, they were one or two-roomed buildings made from the logs of trees felled on the spot and notched into position for the walls. The top log was split and smoothed, and on it rested the roof of split logs, notched and held into place by poles or stones. The floors were of rough puncheon or even, in some cases, merely the ground that soon packed into firmness. The walls and roofs of some of the cabins were high enough to allow for a loft, which was reached by means of cleats notched to the wall or by pegs below the ''scuttle hole." This loft became a storage place, sleeping quarters, usually for the older children, and on occasion served as a vantage post from which to shoot at prowling Cherokees. Some lofts, like that in the home of Zebulon Baird on the east side of the French Broad River, were equipped with gun holes.1 The one or two windows of the cabin were without glass, but puncheon shutters, hung by wooden pegs or hinges, provided protection against the elements and enemies. One end of each cabin was well taken up with the fireplace, used for both heating and cooking. It was constructed of stones mortared into place with clay. Clay or any available mud from the creek banks, mixed with pebbles and stones and even with twigs, also provided the chinking between the logs of the walls. The result of the pioneer's carpentry was rarely artistic, but it was sturdy and warm. 2 The furniture for his cabin was also the work of the pioneer's own hands. Often in those early years the beds were bunks against the wall, sometimes attached to it with pegs. Over them the housewife could put her feather beds if she were fortunate enough �168 / Chapter Eleven BOB LINDSEY PHOTO, ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE The Vance Home (restored): This house, large for that time, was built by Colonel David Vance about 1795. It has a sitting room and three bedrooms in two stories and a one-story kitchen. Here David's grandson, Zebulon Baird Vance, was born on May 13, 1830. This house has been the home of five outstanding members of the Vance family. to be allowed to bring them from the east. If not, after the first crop, she could have straw or husk mattresses, and until that time she made out with grass or reed mattresses. Buffalo and deerskin made the bed clothing, and the bunks served as seats during the daytime. The children in the loft slept on husk-filled pallets or on animal skins on the floor. Tables and chairs, which were only backless stools fashioned according to the husband's skill, completed the simple household effects. A mantel and some storage space on the fireplace wall sometimes added to the housewife's convenience. Over the door, suspended on two forked sticks pegged to the wall, was the ever ready rifle. It was handily placed and out of reach of the children. As soon as possible a crib or cradle was made for the baby. The pioneer's farming and household tools were likewise meager. He brought into the wilderness his flint-lock, long-barreled rifle, his hunting knife, his axe, possibly an adz or a froe, and a few plough shares, together with some pot hooks and the seeds for his first crop. �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 169 The lady of the house usually had a scanty supply of "store" cloth, an iron kettle and a pot or two, an inadequate supply of pewter dishes and knives, a few spoons and forks, and sometimes a spinning wheel. Frequently she guarded a small "library," which typically included a copy of the Bible and an almanac. Perhaps in a small chest she cherished a little assortment of family heirlooms. The frontier couple brought or purchased from earlier settlers a horse or two, a cow, and a few hogs.3 After his home and possibly a nearby barn had been completed, the pioneer turned his attention to clearing the land. With the tools he had, he grubbed out tangled shrubs and underbrush and girdled the trees so that they would die in a couple of years. In the first year or so he planted his corn among the girdled trees, now leafless, fertilizing the crop by the Indian method of putting a fish in each corn hill. When the trees were dead, he felled them with the help of one or more of the neighboring settlers, saving some of the logs for fuel and for building. The surplus—oak, hickory, ash, walnut—was dragged to a convenient spot to be burned. A garden plot also demanded attention and was early cleared near the cabin. It fell to the wife's lot to tend the beans, potatoes, onions, and other vegetables grown there for the family's food supply. Besides corn, as the land was cleared, the pioneer raised crops of wheat, rye, oats, and some tobacco. As he built up his herd of cattle, he used the nearby hillsides for his grazing grounds and let his hogs roam at will to fatten on the wild nuts. Bells were attached to the cows and hogs were marked with an ownership symbol. The settler usually planned to raise a sufficient number of horses to supply him with the needed farm animals and with a means of transportation to markets. Some of the settlers used oxen, and in time oxen became the beasts of burden on all farms. These pioneers, no matter what else they were, were farmers, and for the first few years of their lives in the mountains, they were all subsistence farmers. 4 Still, the mountain settlers enjoyed a self-sufficient economy. Food was plentiful, and the pioneer's rifle, used with superb marksmanship, kept the family larder supplied with meat and fowl. The stream rippling past the house offered refrigeration and was a never-failing source of choice fish. The meadow furnished an abundance of "greens" in the early spring and a carpet of strawberries in their season. Bee trees yielded honey, and the woods offered a variety of nuts. Many kinds of wild herbs and �170 / Chapter Eleven APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY When building a new house, a settler often kept his earlier house as a storage place or a bam. Back of this farmstead the lofty Craggies rise. roots were gathered yearly for the home remedies so vital to a doctorless country. During those first years, the corn was ground at home by means of a stone or wooden mortar and pestle, and the many products of the garden were dried for winter use. The cows gave their milk, and the spring or creek insured a constant supply of drinking water. For some years wild game from the surrounding forests supplied the settlers of Western North Carolina with much of their clothing. Deerskins became buckskin leggings, trousers, and shirts for the men and sometimes provided skirts for the women. Animal hides became shoes and moccasins for the entire family. As time went on, many of the settlers built up a flock of sheep and raised a field or two of flax. Then the men made hand looms, and the women spent the winter afternoons spinning and weaving �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 111 linsey-woolsey cloth for the family's wardrobes and for the fine coverlets for their beds. If the women worked in the evenings, they did so by the light of the fire or of pine torches, or by the flickering light of home made beef tallow candles. Occasionally some pioneer woman would possess a lamp of iron molded in a cup shape in which floated a wick saturated in hog lard. In all the phases of their living, mountain pioneers were repeating the experiences of earlier settlers in the piedmont areas. They were continuing and extending the life style of their friends and kin folk in the newly created counties of Burke and Rutherford and Wilkes just east of the Blue Ridge.5 At rare intervals the pioneer went to market on horseback. East of the Blue Ridge and in the northern mountain section that meant a trip to Morganton or to Rutherfordton. West of the Blue Ridge it might mean a journey to Waynesville and often to Asheville. There the Bairds took the furs and hides from the pioneer's hunting and trapping and possibly a few hog or deer hams in exchange for salt, sugar, a few tools, or bars of iron. A bit of coffee and a tew yards of *'store" cloth for his wife and daughters also made the return trip. The furs and hides and hams the merchants would in turn take to Augusta or to Charleston on their next trip, exchanging them for the supplies needed by the early settlers. Almost nothing except taxes was paid for in money, for specie was scarce throughout the state, especially in the frontier areas. When money was mentioned, however, it was in terms of English coins. It was not until 1809 that the General Assembly authorized the counties to keep their records in terms of American currency. Some of the coins appearing in Western North Carolina up to that date were English, but there was a sprinkling of French coins and even more Spanish doubloons and pieces of eight. In hhjournal, for example, John Brown recorded the constant difficulty of exchanging the currency he had brought from Pennsylvania into pieces of eight. Entry takers often refused to make the exchange.6 As had been the case with the earlier settlers in the Catawba and Broad River sections, protection was every mountain settler's concern, and those pioneers living in isolated coves or along small streams had to be prepared for sudden attacks from bands of Cherokees. Each member of the tamily was taught to use a rifle and learned where to seek a hiding place in case of need. When forewarned, those living in the neighborhood ot a block house or fort fled to a previously �172 / Chapter Eleven THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. ^4/ier a community or farm forge was set up, the settler had improved farm implements, and the kitchen fireplace—always a busy spot—was well equipped. The one shown above is in the restored Vance home. designated one for safety. After 1783 there was no Cherokee "war" against the white settlements, but some native Americans, on the pretense of hunting, remained a constant menace. For instance, John Burton's miller, having crossed the French Broad River searching for his cow, was killed by a lurking Cherokee.7 Several times the William Mills family �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 173 narrowly escaped death by reaching the fort at Point Lookout before the pursuing Indians.8 There were far too many instances in which several family members became victims of a surprise attack by prowling Indians.9 To protect the clusters of settlements, to prevent massacres in remote districts, and to instill in the Cherokees the fear of organized retaliation, the settlers worked out a system of patrols. Each appointed armed watchman covered a six-mile territory. Block houses or tiny log forts were erected at intervals along the French Broad River and at other strategic spots, such as Point Lookout, to which besieged families could go. Some individuals built forts at their homes, like the one constructed shortly after 1787 by Captain William Moore, probably the first white settler west of the French Broad River. His fort, which served as protection for his own family and tor the families that came into the Hominy Creek region, stood on or near the present Sand Hill Road just east of the Enka Corporation plant. John Brown, in Asheville, noted that the settlers kept "near Sixty men out about seven miles distant from the Town in small garrisons to Prevent the Indians trom come ing in on them [sic]."10 In case of need, the patrols, covering their districts on horseback, could have the assistance of the local militia. North Carolina's militia, during the Revolutionary War, had been a signal factor in quelling the English-sympathizing Cherokees. It had also been instrumental in driving the British armies from the state. Now, in 1793, it was divided into four divisions. These in turn were marked into districts, each to organize a brigade made up of freemen and apprentices eighteen years of age and over. On both sides of the Blue Ridge, Western North Carolina men, most of whom were veterans of the late war, gladly accepted the call. They furnished their own muskets, powder horns, and shotpouches, and without the benefit of uniforms they attended called drills known as Exercises. Calls for active duty were responded to, and once a year at places designated by law or by the commanding officers, this self-made militia attended a review or inspection and recruiting ceremony known as Muster Day. This military organization, made up of seasoned soldiers, did much to maintain a state of peace between the settlers and the native American.11 One of the things that separates civilized man from his less �/I n E^rly Ferry: Transportation for men and theirfarm products was long a problem in the mountain communities. Until bridges were built over streams, ferries, like this one on the French Broad River near Asheville, served settlers both east and west of the Blue Ridge. developed ancestors and contemporaries is a system ot transportation in which roads play an essential part. Simple trails had first served the buffalo, the deer, and later the Cherokee on his hunting and raiding expeditions. These footpaths had been firmly packed into trading paths by the hooves of thousands of pack horses. They brought early settlers into the "back country," then to the foothills of the Blue Ridge, and at last across the mountains. During the peak years of this westward migration into the mountain valleys and coves, hundreds of pioneers trudged over the old paths carrying their possessions in bundles. Thousands of others rode over them on horseback with their personal effects in their saddle bags or on a pack horse or two or, in a few cases, on a crude sled or "stone boat" pulled by a patient horse or ox. But ambitious pioneers had visions of roads over which they might use wagons in procuring needed supplies and in transporting their products to Virginia or to South Carolina markets. These visions became realities amazingly early. True, "waggon road" was more often than not a polite term for a steep, twisting, narrow, boulder-filled trail over the mountains and along the streams, yet over such trails, by near-miraculous combinations of good weather, back-breaking efforts, perseverance, and luck or destiny, determined teamsters sometimes succeeded in keeping their wagons reasonably intact and mobile. As early as 1753 the Moravian "Brethern," arriving to build Bethabara, had actually negotiated a wagon, considered the first, over the Pennsylvania Road, a feat that had made burdensome every foot of the five hundred miles. On some of �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 175 the steep inclines, it had been necessary to take the wagon apart and carry it piecemeal up the mountain, while on the equally steep descents it had been necessary to lock two wheels and to hang a log on behind to act as a brake.12 For many years, mountain pioneers were to repeat these experiences. The first established route across the Blue Ridge was undoubtedly the one used by Boone. From his home on the Yadkin he made early trips west by crossing the range at Cook's Gap and going across the site of Boone to Hodge's Gap, then skirting the base of Rich Mountain to the present Silverstone. Then, by following a buffalo trail, he passed between the present Zionville, North Carolina, and Trade, Tennessee. This Boone trail has been marked by six markers.13 A later road scaled the Blue Ridge at McKinney or Gillespie Gap and, following the North Toe River, crossed Yellow Mountain or went over a gap between Yellow and Roan Mountains and on to the Watauga Settlements. New and trail-like as this route must have been in 1771, it was used by James Robertson and the sixteen Wake County families that he escorted to the western .settlements. It is thought that this group took their belongings in wagons, and it is certain that the later Bright's Trail, making use of this older road which crossed over the gap between Yellow and Roan Mountains, was known as a wagon road. In 1774 Daniel Boone and eight companions, in preparation for Henderson's Transylvania colony in Kentucky, hacked out the Wilderness Road. When the settlers went over it a few months later, they took supplies by wagon train as far as the Cumberland Mountains.14 To the southwest the enterprising Baird Brothers—Zebulon and Bedent—in 1793 succeeded in getting a wagon and supplies over the forbidding Saluda Mountain and on to Buncombe Courthouse where they set up their merchandizing business. Two years later, presumably the worse for their mountain wear, two wagons rumbled into White's Ford, now Knoxville, having achieved the feat of scaling Saluda Mountain and the almost equally difficult feat of passing down the French Broad River gorge.15 As communities developed in the western mountain sections of Burke and Rutherford Counties, settlers laid out roads ot a sort connecting the two counties and linking the homes of prominent citizens. Some of these were somewhat figuratively called wagon roads, and Reem's Creek boasted a "waggon �176 / Chapter Eleven ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE Early settlers lightened their dawn-to-dark labor with home-made appliances. Here the farmer uses a sled—called a sledge—to transport his heavy implements and other burdens about the farm. ford." When Buncombe County was created, roads were the chief, immediate concern of the new government. On the second day of the first court ever held in North Carolina west �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 177 of the Blue Ridge, the problem of roads was taken up, and soon provisions were made for roads to a forge, to outlying sections of the county, and across gaps to markets. State subsidizing of roads was still far in the future, and the mountain counties both east and west of the Blue Ridge worked out a system of road construction and maintenance. The highway was marked off into sections with one man assigned to oversee the construction and upkeep of each section. His crew consisted of "warned in" citizens, ordered by the county court to work a certain number of days. During the early settlement period when roads were desperately needed and when the lack of them might mean failure to his mountain venture, each settler responded wholeheartedly to the county's call for road duty. The system later broke down. But for the area west of the Blue Ridge a tremendous step forward had been accomplished when a usable wagon road over Saluda Gap allowed incoming settlers to bring their belongings by wagon to their new homes.16 Until the first quarter of the new century was ending, however, roads continued to be the stumbling block to all progress in Western North Carolina. All travelers to the area who left records take up much letter, diary, or journal space in lamenting the hardships endured on the roads over which they had entered the region. The road linking Asheville with the Hominy Creek settlement and with the Richland Creek and Pigeon River groups farther west was scarcely worthy to be so called. Its wretched condition, especially during much ot the winter, was an eloquent argument for the formation of another western county. Most of the roads followed the streams. As was true in many places along the French Broad River northwest ot Asheville, a gorge frequently closed in to the river bank. This necessitated fording and refording the stream or traveling some distance by means of side fords, that is, with the wheels of one or of both sides of the wagon in the stream bed. The rocks and boulders made both types of stream travel hazardous. Bishop Francis Asbury, for instance, on his way from Tennessee to Asheville on Thursday, November 3, 1800, tried riding in a chaise. Before he reached Paint Rock, just south of the Tennessee line, he was so exhausted from bouncing over the rocks that he abandoned the carriage for his horse. It was lucky that he did, for shortly thereafter the "roan horse reeled" and �178 / Chapter Eleven fell, taking the light carriage with him. It landed bottomside up and became wedged against a sapling. As Bishop Asbury and the driver struggled to right the chaise, they saw a woman spreading the water-soaked garments and bedding of her family about on the rocks to dry. Her husband was laboring in the river to retrieve his upset wagon. The following Sunday, the Bishop again attempted riding a chaise, this time from the Daniel Killian home north of Asheville to William Forster's house in the present Biltmore, a distance of some five miles. Again he gave up the carriage for his more reliable horse, and that night he recorded in his Journal: "This mode of conveyance by no means suits the roads of this wilderness; we were obliged to keep one behind the carriage with a strap to hold by and prevent accidents almost continually."17 Yet wagons were being used, and Asbury mentions that Phillip Smith of Asheville made wagons, as well as shoes for men and horses, saddles, and hats.18 Between 1800 and 1814 Bishop Asbury made almost yearly trips up the French Broad Road, through the various communities surrounding the Buncombe County courthouse, and down Saluda Mountain into South Carolina. After the ordeal of getting from one preaching point to another and after the agony of descending the mountain barrier, the Bishop said farewell to Western North Carolina with relief. In 1802 he wrote that in getting down Saluda Mountain he "used time, patience, labor, and two sticks." In the next year Asbury recorded: "Once more I have escaped from filth, fleas, rattlesnakes, hills, mountains, rocks, and rivers; farewell western world for a while!"19 Except for the hardships imposed by the more mountainous terrain, transportation conditions were scarcely better in the older counties of Burke and Rutherford and Wilkes. The ancient Indian trail from near the present Pickens, South Carolina, passed through Rutherfordton and near Morganton and on to the headwaters of Linville River and thence west to the present Boone and into Tennessee. This trail continued to be a main artery of travel.20 Roads going east were practically nonexistent, and the products of this rich valley region went largely to South Carolina markets. From time to time the counties laid out new roads or repaired older ones, but they were always poorly kept and frequently next to impassable. River transportation in this area �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 179 just east of the Blue Ridge was necessarily stressed, and settlers living along the prongs of the Broad River were required to keep the streams navigable for small, flat-bottomed boats. Downstream the freight was reloaded onto larger boats bound for Columbia and other South Carolina river ports. In fact, so economically essential were the river highways that several "artificial towns" along streams were authorized by the General Assembly. Attempts were made by companies to build planned villages such as Burr on the Broad River and Jefferson on "Main Broad River". But all these attempts failed, for the settlers were basically farmers.21 Until well into the new century, the county seats were mere clusters of cabins, housing a few hundred citizens who were also farmers. Their salable products, after transportation costs were deducted, brought scarcely enough to pay for the needed but highpriced supplies. The area was forced to raise or make what was needed or go without. Uncomfortable as traveling was, Francis Asbury made his difficult yearly pilgrimages to this frontier because, as he said, "My soul felt for these neglected people."22 Many years later another missionary characterized the mountain dwellers as "an interesting population in great spiritual destitution."23 It is estimated that in 1790 not more than one person in thirty in North Carolina was a member of any church; there were only fourteen to fifteen thousand church members in the entire state. Of the Protestant denominations, the Baptists, with ninety-four churches, had by far the largest membership. Followers of John Wesley's Methodism had suffered during the Revolution because of the faith's English origin. Yet in 1784 Francis Asbury and Thomas Coke were ordained as bishops in the newly formed Methodist Church of America. After holding their first Conference near Louisburg, they began their missionary journeys that extended from Maine to Georgia. Flocking into the back country, the Scotch-Irish brought with them the Presbyterianism of John Knox, and in 1788 there were twenty-eight Presbyterian ministers preaching in the state.24 The Scotch-Irish Presbyterians in both Burke and Rutherford Counties early organized churches, the first in the area being the Westminster or Brittain Church in Rutherford County. Its congregation of twenty members was organized in 1768, probably by the Reverend Daniel Thatcher. That same year a church building was erected, the first house of worship west of the Catawba River; it became the first of three successive Brittain �180 / Chapter Eleven Churches, two of them on that site. This little church wielded a wide influence and became the "Mother Church "of Presbyterian congregations both east and west of the Blue Ridge. Established later than the Brittain Church but before 1784, the Quaker Meadows Presbyterian Church was organized in Burke County.25 However, adherents to this denomination had for some time held meetings in the homes of settlers. In 1794 the Reverend James Hall and the Reverend Joseph D. Kilpatrick held a series of meetings in the Bee Tree settlement. As a result a Presbyterian congregation was formed there along with another in the Swannanoa community, and a third in the Reems Creek settlement. At Bee Tree the first church building southwest of the Blue Ridge was erected. It was a log structure known as the Robert Patton Meeting House. After 1797 Reverend George Newton, the first resident Presbyterian minister in the area, preached to all three congregations and to one organized near Cane Creek. In additon to his preaching duties he taught at Union Hill School, later to become Union Academy and still later, Newton Academy. The Swannanoa congregation eventually became the Asheville Presbyterian Church.26 Benjamin Miller, a Baptist minister, was holding meetings in homes along the upper Yadkin River in 1755 and learned that itinerant preachers of his denomination had preceded him. By 1760 a little log church building was serving a newly organized Baptist group in that area, and in 1777 a Baptist Church was organized farther west. It was called Mullberry Fields Church and was erected at the site of the present Wilkesboro. In 1779 Beaver Creek Baptist Church was organized in Wilkes County, and King Creek Church was built in what was to become Caldwell County.27 By then itinerant ministers of this faith were entering various sections of the counties just east of the mountains, and in 1785 the Bills Creek Baptist Church was built in Rutherford County, followed two years later by the Mountain Creek Church. All of these small churches led to the formation of new congregations; and when in 1800 the Broad River Baptist Association was formed, it included not only these congregations, but also the Green's Creek Church in what is now Polk County and three Baptist churches in Burke County.28 Leaving the Yadkin churches, Baptist ministers crossed the mountains on horseback by means of the old Boone Trail as soon as settlers took up land in the river valleys along the Watauga and Toe Rivers. In the valley viewed almost forty years earlier by �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 181 Spangenberg and considered by him as a favorable site for an Indian mission, a little log meeting house was built in 1790 and quite appropriately was named the Three Forks Church. Nine years later the second church in the present Watauga County was built and was known as the Cove Creek Church. These, together with the few Baptist churches in Ashe and Wilkes Counties, were members of the Yadkin Baptist Association. Over the years a succession of preachers, the first of them lay-preachers, served these widely scattered congregations.29 As the settlements moved westward, the Baptist Convention attempted to keep pace with the pioneers, and early in the new century Humphrey Posey assumed the duties of State Mission Agent for the Convention, serving without pay. In addition to teaching short terms of school in Rutherford County, Mr. Posey made missionary journeys across the mountains. With James Whittaker as his assistant, he held meetings in the Hominy Creek and Pigeon River areas, organizing a congregation that constructed a church at the site of the present Canton. It was called the Locust Old Field Baptist Church and was the source of spiritual influence throughout the new county of Hay wood. In 1817 Posey took up missionary work with the Cherokees and from stations established farther west, preached to the Indians in the western region of the state.30 During the Revolutionary War, a Methodist Circuit was formed, covering the Yadkin valley and extending west across the mountains and south to take in the Catawba area. The Reverend Andrew Yeargin traveled at least portions of this vast territory and may have been one of the first Methodist preachers to cross the Blue Ridge. About 1790 the Lincoln Methodist Circuit was formed, embracing a wide area that included Rutherford and Burke Counties. As ministers, Daniel Asbury and Jesse Richardson visited as often as possible the small churches established in the circuit. Methodism as a force in Western North Carolina developed largely, however, through the tireless efforts of Bishop Frances Asbury. By 1790 Asbury was traveling from the Yadkin valley to the Catawba and west to the mountains. Wherever there were a few scattered houses he went, holding meetings in homes or in yards. In the small county seats the court houses served as meeting places. Settlers, eager to hear religious messages and glad for the news of the outside world, welcomed Asbury into their homes. In Rutherford County his headquarters were at the home of William �182 / Chapter Eleven MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY As soon as water-powered mills were built along streams, the settlers laid aside their mortars and pestles and took their grain to the nearest mill to be ground into flour and meal. 31 Mills. Riding over the long, muddy miles of Rutherford, Burke, and Wilkes Counties from preaching place to preaching place, he wearily recorded in his Journal, "This is a day of small things here."32 But out of his sometimes tedious labors grew many churches, among them the Gilboa Methodist Church, the second religious congregation organized in Burke County.33 In 1793 after his journey through the counties to the east, Asbury crossed the Blue Ridge and preached to the settlers living along the Watauga River—"a neglected place," he called it. From there he followed the old road into Tennessee. In 1800 the French Broad River valley was added to his journeys, and for fourteen years he made almost yearly trips from Knoxville, Tennessee, to Asheville. From there he went to the frontier settlements farther west and through the present Henderson County, passing on into South Carolina. In 1800 the Bishop was fifty-five years old and was already suffering from the tuberculosis that in 1816 claimed his life. Yet on �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 183 horseback he came, frequently dismounting to lead his horse over the steep, slippery, rock-strewn hills. He slept wherever night caught him, grateful if it might be a hunter's cabin where he could stretch out on the hard, dirt floor. Without protection he endured the beating rains of summer and the sleet and snow of winter, for he came at all seasons of the year.34 The people of Asheville crowded into the court room to hear him preach, and friends and neighbors filled the David Killian home in the Beaverdam section as well as the Forster house in the present Biltmore whenever word came that there would be a meeting. Jacob Shook, in the fine log house he erected near the Pigeon River, made a "preaching" room in the attic so that Bishop Asbury could bring the Gospel message to all who hungered for spiritual food. The home of Samuel Edney in the present Henderson County was another of the Bishop's stopping places, and on one of his trips Asbury ordained Edney "for preaching." Then during the Bishop's absence from the mountains, Edney carried on the work. As congregations were gradually formed, small Methodist churches appeared in various places west of the mountains.35 During the years of Asbury's missionary work in the area, the camp meeting movement reached Western North Carolina. This movement was a product of pioneer and frontier life. With their previous religious background, American pioneers were interested in "preachings" and gained from them not only a needed religious inspiration, but also the social satisfaction of mingling with their neighbors. Regardless of creedal concepts and convictions, whole families managed by one means or another to attend the services held irregularly by ministers passing from one frontier settlement to another. Eventually no pioneer house could accommodate the crowds (not even Jacob Shock's with its chapel), and overflow crowds filled the yards. The sensible thing, then, was to hold the meeting out-of-doors where all might see and hear. Nor was one meeting satisfactory to either minister or pioneers. These itinerant preachers, covering their vast circuits, arrived at meeting places badly in need of rest. Their return to the area was always uncertain, and for their own sake and that of the congregation they preferred to hold services in a community for a week, possibly two. The pioneers, on their part, felt the need of the preacher's message and, almost as strongly, the need of social life. Yet getting to and from the daily �184 / Chapter Eleven WORLD METHODIST ARCHIVES, JUNALUSKA Bishop Francis Asbury: Francis Asbury, the Bishop on Horseback, brought Methodism to the little settlements east of the Blue Ridge and to the Watauga Settlements. After 1800 he also visited the communities west of the Blue Ridge. On his trips he endured, as he said, "filth, fleas, rattlesnakes, hills, mountains, rocks, and rivers. "In this painting, as he travels the wilderness, he holds the open Bible. meetings held by the preacher presented a very real problem. It was solved with logic and good sense, and the camp meeting came into being. With bedding and a supply of food on a pack horse or in a wagon if he owned one, each settler took his family to the meeting or camp grounds. There, roads permitting, he joined his neighbors, and all camped out for the duration of the preacher's visit. Some member of each family rode home as often as deemed necessary to see about the chores. Between the daily services, prayer meetings and singing sessions were held, but there was still time for much visiting of neighbor with neighbor and kinsfolk and for shy courting among the young people. This type of conclave required space far greater than any yard afforded, and interested parties set aside land for campgrounds. Temporary, bough-covered shelters could be erected for the �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living I 185 meetings, and both settlers and their wagons and horses could be accommodated. In time some of these grounds had permanent shelters.36 Bishop Asbury, passing the ."encamping places" of Methodists and Presbyterians in 1803, felt partially repaid for his strenuous missionary journeys along the French Broad River, for they made the land "look like the Holy Land/'37 The modern American is filled with respectful awe when he realizes how much his ancestors sacrificed to settle in and tame a wilderness. One of the sacrifices involved was education. Textbooks could not be taken by settlers into the ''back country" of North Carolina and certainly could not be included on the already over-laden pack horses heading westward across the mountain barrier. There was the unending task of clearing farms in a vast, forest-covered region and of making on the place practically all of the farm tools used and all of the clothing needed by a growing family. There were the additional tasks of raising and then marketing crops and of supplementing the family food supply and the exchange income with hunting and trapping. Every child in the large families was an economic asset, taking his place at an early age as a laborer in the home or in the field and woods. If a boy had an unconquerable thirst for knowledge and if there were some member of the family capable of teaching him, the lad could learn his letters at night by the light of a pine torch or a tallow candle, with the Bible and an almanac as text books. If the compelling urge was lacking or if the boy was too work-weary for evening study, he grew to manhood wise only in the ways of frontier life. He became familiar with the mountains and their wealth of vegetation and animal life. He became alert to all forms of lurking danger; he was self-reliant, and well acquainted with hard work. But frontier youth generally went without the benefits of formal education. The settlers coming to the mountains had had varying degrees of education in their youthful days, and as soon as the tiny settlements grew into communities, their leaders took steps to provide education for the children. The first schools in the Catawba and Broad River settlements were known as Old Field schools. These were subscription primary and elementary schools held in homes or in log houses. A teacher—usually a man, but occasionally a woman—taught community children, both boys and girls for a small fee per child. Terms were short and held between crop times. The tiny school buildings were crudely �186 / Chapter Eleven furnished with split log benches, an occasional fireplace, and a homemade desk and chair or stool for the teacher. A wooden water bucket and a gourd dipper completed the physical equipment. Equally meager was the teaching equipment. Whatever books the teachers or parents could procure served as texts. The beginners frequently used a modified form of the old English hornbook, a shorthandled, paddle-like board with a smooth surface on which the great and small letters were written and from which the child learned his A, B, C's. A leather thong passed through a hole bored in the handle could be slipped over the head so that the child could wear his "book." In these Old Field schools the second generation, and in some cases the third, got their first contact with formal education. Among these children was young Zebulon Vance, who attended four such schools, one of which was taught by Miss Jane Hughey.38 The churches, always advocates of education, established elementary schools as soon as practicable, their ministers serving as teachers. Then came the academies, sponsored by church groups. The first of these in Burke County was the Morgan Academy, erected in Morganton in 1783, in which the classes were taught by the Presbyterian minister and his wife.39 Rutherfordton Academy in Rutherford County followed, receiving its charter in 1800.40 But the settlers in the rural sections of these counties, as in Wilkes County, continued to depend upon a bit of teaching now and then by individuals setting up private or subscription schools. Across the Blue Ridge, the Swannanoa and Beaverdam settlements were fortunate in counting Robert Henry, a veteran of the Revolutionary War and a man of varied interests and manifold abilities, among their settlers. He opened the first school west of the Blue Ridge, attended by the pioneers' children, both boys and girls. His school became known as Union Hill School. Although necessarily handicapped by the lack of text books, Henry paved the way for the formal establishment of Union Hill Academy that provided a solid educational foundation for children of the communities. In 1797 George Newton replaced Henry, who then took up one or more of his many occupations in the pioneer town of Asheville. In July, 1803, William Forster III deeded an eight acre tract of land to the trustees of Union Hill Academy, together with the old school building, a newly constructed one, and an additional frame �Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living / 187 dwelling. The same donor later added land on which was a brick building in the process of construction. Footer's gifts called for the dedication of the land and buildings to the maintenance and furthering of the Gospel and to the teaching of a Latin and English school. The academy was reorganized by the General Assembly in 1805, and soon after that date its name was changed to Newton Academy. At one time or another practically every prominent citizen of early Asheville and the surrounding territory served as a trustee of the institution. The ambitious little academy was hard-pressed financially during those early years, and in 1810 it received permission from the General Assembly to conduct a public lottery as a means of raising funds with which to build new buildings and to establish a "Female Academy" in Asheville. The odds in the lottery were enticing, for the winner was to receive a prize of seven thousand dollars for his four dollar ticket. But the plan failed, and the outstanding tickets had to be recalled because, as the advertisement stated, there was extreme scarcity of cash, a prevalent condition both in the mountain section and in the state as a whole.41 Newton Academy somehow weathered the financial crisis and for many years gave a firm educational background to boys who were to become the second generation leaders in Western North Carolina. Some of these young men were to take their places in the political affairs of the state. Under its 1776 Constitution, North Carolina was pledged to encourage education. As a result, it established a state University, although it made no appropriations for the operation and development of the institution. Encouragement was given to elementary education by legislative permission granted to private schools and to church schools to raise money by means of lotteries or other methods considered at the time as legal. However, the day of state responsibility for carrying elementary education to the far reaches of its territory had not yet dawned. As men and women pushed beyond the villages into isolated sections, scattered communities and individuals handled the problem as best they could. Those settlers living in more or less compact communities had Old Field schools. Those in smaller settlements or in remote coves could hope for nothing beyond a bit of teaching in the homes. It was a long time before schools reached these places, and when they did, the little log buildings were poorly equipped, books �188 / Chapter Eleven were few, and the terms were pitifully short. Through the fault of no one, the second generation of remote mountain people—those whose childhoods were spent in Western North Carolina—gave an upward swing to the state's already high rate of illiteracy ,42 In a few years the differences in available opportunity to mountain settlers became apparent, differences largely due to location, ironically enough, often a matter of only a few miles. That difference was destined to increase and to encompass every phase of life during the first third of the nineteenth century as distinct social groups evolved and as a degree of progress and prosperity came to the more accessible communities. �C H A P T E R T W E L V E Boundaries and Western Leadership ven in colonial times boundary lines were bones of contention between North Carolina and Virginia to the north and between North Carolina and South Carolina to the south. The dissensions arising from real and fancied infringements on one colony's territory by another often became prolonged and bitter. Both of the neighboring colonies laid claim to a narrow east-west strip of land along the unsurveyed boundary, and both granted settlement rights within it to westward moving pioneers. Some of these settlers, unsure of their allegiance, voted in both colonies, and dodged the tax levied by each. Overlapping land grants gave rise to inflamed feelings, and local friction and feuds wasted the energies of the newly arrived settlers and led to a state of continual confusion which at times flared into violence. Under such conditions economic progress in the border areas was impossible. As Western North Carolina was opened to white settlers, these boundary problems were extended into the mountain area. Here they were complicated by the shifting Cherokee boundaries and by the conflicting claims of North Carolina and Georgia over their common line—claims that, at the turn of the century, led to what was locally called the "Walton War." 189 �190 / Chapter Twelve Virginia and North Carolina took the first practical step in solving their differences when in 1728 a commission made up of representatives from each colony surveyed the area from "north of Currituck river or inlet" westward. When the men had gone fifty miles west of any white settlements, the North Carolina commissioners, feeling it a needless expense to continue through an uninhabited wilderness and having neither an interest in the hardships arising from the surveying task ahead nor in the companionship of the Virginians, returned home. But William Byrd II, the leading spirit in the Virginia group, foresaw the coming of settlers in perhaps ten years. He and his surveyors pushed on westward until from a hill they caught sight of wave after wave of distant blue mountains. At that point they set up their marker and went home, 233 miles from the coast.1 In 1749, with the arrival of the settlers envisioned by Byrd, a joint commission representing the two colonies extended the survey. Still another joint commission in 1779, this time representing both states, surveyed the common boundary to about the site of the present city of Bristol. While they did much to establish settled, normal conditions along North Carolina's northern boundary, these surveys could not entirely banish the trouble, for the surveys themselves could not always be accurate. Moreover, the incoming settlers could not always locate the boundary markers, especially those on trees, and the survey could not keep pace with the westward migration. 2 It was for these reasons that one of the Watauga pioneers, running his own line, discovered that he and many of his neighbors with land grants from Virginia had actually settled and cleared land in North Carolina. It was also revealed that they were beyond the line of demarcation established between white and native American country by the order of King George. Since to the settlers vacating the region now was unthinkable and since they must have protection, the Watauga Association, as related in an earlier chapter, made a land treaty with the Cherokees and petitioned the General Assembly of North Carolina to be recognized as a county of that state. When in 1789 North Carolina ceded its western lands to the Republic, the boundary line was designated to start on the crest of Stone Mountain where it is intersected by the boundary line of Virginia, and the line was to follow that mountain to the place where the Watauga River flows through it. From there it was to go to the top of Yellow Mountain, along its crest to Iron �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 191 Mountain, and then along its crest to the Nolichuky River; from there it was to go to the crest of the Great Iron or Smoky Mountains, thence to the crest of the Unicoi range, and thus to the southern border of the state. After the formation of the state of Tennessee from the ceded land, each commonwealth appointed a commission to work jointly in surveying the common boundary. That group included Colonel David Vance, General Joseph McDowell, and Major Mussendine Matthews as commissioners for North Carolina and Robert Henry and John Strother as surveyors. They ran the line in 1799 from the point where Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee met along the designated ranges to Paint Rock. Later the survey would be completed.3 The last clause in the boundary line description as designated in the Cession Act gave rise to a dispute between North Carolina and its western neighbor. Tennessee held that there was no crest or main ridge of the Unicoi range west of the Hiwassee River and that a range east of that river was therefore the true boundary. This claim, contrary to the intent of those formulating the Act, would mean that North Carolina would lose a valuable strip of western territory. Inhis Memoir on Internal Affairs in 1819 Archibald Murphey urged a speedy settlement of that dispute. After the Cherokee treaty of 1819, by which the native Americans relinquished land south and west of the point at which the survey had halted, another joint commission of the two states began where the stone marker had been set up on the Cataloochee trail in 1799 and ran the survey to the Georgia line. James Mebane, Montford Stokes, and Robert Love were North Carolina's representatives on this commission, and the work was completed in 1821. The boundary line thus established was accepted by both states; yet a small area known as the "Rainbow" country at the head of Tellico Creek later caused litigation between the two states and was not settled until well into the twentieth century.4 The long period of dissension between the two Carolinas over their common boundary led to charges and countercharges by each state against the other and against certain governors. By 1772, however, an extension of the survey earlier made in the eastern section was carried on by a joint commission representing the two colonies, although the results were most unsatisfactory to North Carolina. A part of the trouble stemmed from the extremely irregular boundary line that jogged to the north in order to include the Catawba Indian lands in South Carolina. �192 / Chapter Twelve According to this survey, however, the line through the western Cherokee country was to be the thirty-fifth degree of parallel. But that strip, surveyed later, also caused dissension.5 At the close of the Revolutionary War, South Carolina ceded its western lands, a narrow strip just below the North Carolina border, to the new Republic. Settlers from Georgia entered the area as soon as it was cleared of Indians, but they were without any state protection and petitioned South Carolina to be included in that state. No action was taken. In ceding its western lands to the federal government, Georgia asked for this territory, lying between its border and that of North Carolina. Congress complied, and Georgia created the county of Walton out of it. According to the Georgia surveyors, the northern boundary of this strip of land was north of the mouth of the Mills River, and the county extended some twelve miles into what are now Transylvania and Jackson Counties in North Carolina. By 1803 it was estimated that this area had eight hundred inhabitants, some of them from Georgia, some from South Carolina, and some from North Carolina, which likewise claimed the region and had granted land to settlers entering it. Trouble arose between the "Walton Men" and the North Carolinians, considered squatters by the Georgians. But the Carolina pioneers were not to be driven from their claims, and for a few years there was enough bloodshed in the newly created county to warrant the term "Walton War." In 1808 Georgia sent a memorial to Congress saying that North Carolina was infringing on its territory. Since Congress took no action, the two states appointed commissioners to locate the thirty-fifth parallel through the area. This survey revealed that the entire strip of disputed land was north of that parallel and had never actually belonged either to South Carolina or to the federal government. Nor did it now belong to Georgia. In spite of a protest from Georgia and a second memorial to Congress asking that another survey be made, the work of this joint committee stood. Georgia continued to keep the county organization it had set up, however, and North Carolina sent a militia into the region to oust the Georgia officers. The tacit state of war that had existed now broke into open conflict, and two skirmishes took place, one two miles southeast of the present Brevard and the other on land now occupied by the Ecusta Plant. At both of these clashes lives were lost and some prisoners taken by the North Carolina militia. These were taken to Morganton, but their ultimate fate is not �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 193 known. Georgia, perforce, abolished the county of Walton, and North Carolina set about restoring order in the region that had for some years been an "orphan strip." As such, the area had been infested with refugees from justice and outlaws who had been a constant menace to the property and even to the lives of the settlers in the region.6 It was necessary to survey the boundary designated in the treaty of 1798 between the territory opened to white settlers and the Cherokee lands. Although surveys for this purpose were made earlier, the federal government did not pronounce the line as established until 1803. In that year the third survey (made the previous year by J. Meigs, commissioner, and Thomas Freeman, surveyor) was approved. From a designated point already surveyed in the Smokies, the line was drawn to run southeast. It passed about a mile and a half east of the present Sylva, thence to the headwaters of Little River in the present Transylvania County, and then to the state line. This survey accomplished what the other two had failed to do—to work little hardship to either whites or Cherokees. By it no white family was left in Cherokee country, and the fewest possible Cherokees were left in white territory. This MeigsFreeman line of demarcation was destined to play an important part in the counties through which it ran; since surveys were frequently inaccurate, land grants and deeds described the location of plots in relation to this government established line. The new boundary also gave rise to innumerable law suits, for after 1819, when the Cherokees moved farther west, the markings on the survey route were not kept visible. In some areas questions arose involving its actual location. These questions were not idle ones, for the authenticity of many a farm boundary was at stake. It has been estimated that at one time a third of all the deeds of Transylvania County lands depended upon the Meigs-Freeman line.7 Dividing lines between states and national lines of demarcation did not comprise all of the boundary troubles that plagued Western North Carolina. Counties, formed in rapid succession in the mountain region from 1808 to 1861, were created from older counties. Some were made up of sections from two or more counties. Each act creating a county designated its boundary, but the boundary, or certain sections of it, frequently proved unacceptable to the new county or to the old county or to both. Appeals to the General Assembly resulted in acts making �194 / Chapter Twelve boundary adjustments. These acts were numerous, often several for each county. In fact, Ashe County, in attaining its present boundary, required twenty-three such acts.8 By 1812 the attention of the settlers in Western North Carolina was sharply, although somewhat unwillingly, called to national affairs. There were disturbing episodes of impressment of American sailors into the English navy, incidents of seizure of American ships, and interference in American trade by both. England and France. General dissatisfaction was also aroused by the passage of the Embargo Act of 1807 and by the later Alien and Sedition Laws. All of these factors led to a struggle in Congress for war against one or the other—the extremists said both—of the offending European nations. Led by the young members known as "War Hawks," the congressional fight culminated in June, 1812, with the declaration of war against England. Far from the coastal areas, with no exports involved in the hazards run by the American merchant marine and busy with more immediate problems, the Western North Carolina settlers showed little interest in this war. Although men from every county enlisted for service, there were no mass enlistments from the area. Indeed, the counties just east of the Blue Ridge had as yet not recovered from the ravages of the Revolutionary War, which there had assumed the nature of a civil war. The depredations made by the troops of both Cornwallis and Ferguson in that war had brought destrucion of much property and intense suffering to hundreds of pioneers. These people had little zest for another war. North Carolina was at once assigned a quota of some seven thousand men, however, to be organized into eight companies. These were recruited largely from volunteers from the various counties. But in 1814 a call came for an additional seven thousand men. This quota was made up almost entirely by draft. 9 The Western North Carolina counties furnished their quota of these men although most of them saw little if any action. They had been called primarily to aid in quelling the Creek Indians, urged by British agents to take the warpath against the Americans. General Andrew Jackson was in charge of the Creek campaign, and the North Carolina contingent was sent to join his forces. But it reached him after his decisive victory of Horse Shoe Bend, in which a company of Cherokee volunteers had been of service in bringing him victory and in which the Cherokee leader Junaluska had saved the American general's life. The North Carolina soldiers were then called back to their state. But the volunteers �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 195 from the state in Jackson's forces went with him to New Orleans.10 The period of national prosperity that followed the close of the Second War with England was short lived everywhere in North Carolina and was utterly non-existent in the western counties. The financial panic of 1819 was later to affect the entire state. For the two decades after the Euro-American peace treaty was signed, however, other states began turning their attention to their own internal improvements and their economic progress. North Carolina, in contrast, was strangely apathetic. In fact, so few signs of progress were visible along any line that the state received the derogatory nickname of the "Rip Van Winkle State." Several factors contributed to this static condition in the progress being made by the nation as a whole. Lack of harbors made North Carolina export trade a mere trickle, while lack of an east-west highway continued to divert the products of the piedmont region and the mountain area to adjoining states. Adjoining states thus reaped the profits to be gained and in exchange sent their own products into North Carolina. High transportation rates made these imports costly and discouraged farmers from raising more than they could consume. At this time, moreover, agriculture was practically the only occupation of the people.11 In Western North Carolina some farms along the rivers east of the Blue Ridge were large enough to warrant slave labor. But the census of 1790 showed that even in that area slaves made up a small percentage of the population. For example, in Rutherford County in 1790 only 164 of the county's 1,136 families owned slaves, and even in 1830 out of a population of practically 14,000, the county had only 3,500 Negroes.12 In the newer and more westerly counties a few owners of extensive lands worked their fields with slave labor. Robert Love of Haywood County owned at least a hundred slaves, and James McConnel Smith of Buncombe County worked seventy-five slaves on each of two of his farms.13 Other men living in the fertile mountain valleys found it profitable to own slaves, but they were the exceptions. Most of the settlers neither owned nor could afford to own slaves, although some, especially those living in the towns and villages, might have an occasional house servant. The Negro population in the mountains was, therefore, almost negligible.14 �196 / Chapter Twelve During the first two decades of the nineteenth century there were no factories in the state with the exception of one small cotton mill erected in 1816 in Lincoln County, some scattered iron works, and three paper mills. In practically all parts of the state the people continued raising the food they ate and making the tools they used and the clothes they wore, fortunate if there was a sufficient surplus of products to exchange for the bare necessities not available in their immediate communities. Every Tar Heel, east or west, objected to taxes in any form, and during this period the state had an annual income so small that its yearly expenditures could not exceed $132,000. Most of this amount was required to pay governmental expenses, and when it came to needed improvements, the treasury was chronically in the dire condition of Mother Hubbard's cupboard. In other words, North Carolina trailed other states in social projects while it topped them all in illiteracy.15 Adding to the depressing governmental impasse was the constantly intensifying struggle between East and West. As settlers pushed westward and mountain counties were formed, their representatives to the General Assembly sponsored legislation favorable to their section. North Carolina, after 1815, was a one-party state, with the Republicans (that is, the Jeffersonian Democrats) in control. But the gulf between eastern and western members of the legislature did not represent a struggle between parties; it was even more fundamental. The clash was based on the geographic and climatic differences of the two regions, on the difference in the racial and cultural backgrounds of the people of the regions, and on their widely separated interests. It was, after all, the old Regulator struggle in a state guise. And the western representatives were treated much as the colonial representatives had been. Eastern members still dominated the General Assembly and kept this domination by forming new eastern counties as fast as western counties were authorized. From the eastern representatives the governor and the state officials were yearly elected. There seemed little hope for the men from the mountains, and the struggle, bitter and personal at times, absorbed much of the energies of the lawmakers and far too much of their time. Moreover, the struggle created deepseated hatreds and prejudices between the two sections of the state, some of which were long in the healing.16 During these years vast new territories to the west were being carved into American states. Thousands of North Caro- �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 197 linians, thoroughly discouraged over the future of their state, joined the streams of westward trekking men and women. They planned to make homes in the Ohio River country, on lands bordering the Mississippi River, or on the beckoning plains of faroff Texas. In Western North Carolina a constant procession of people trailed along the tortuous road following the French Broad River and over the winding Wilderness Trail into Tennessee and Kentucky and the territories beyond. Still others went into adjoining states. All went in the hope of brighter prospects for themselves and their children. By 1840, thirty-two of the state's counties had a smaller population than they had had in 1830. This meant for North Carolina not only the loss of its citizens, but the loss of many actual and potential leaders.17 Crying for reform, the first voice in the wilderness was heard in the piedmont section. In 1812 a young lawyer of Hillsboro took his seat in the General Assembly as senator from Orange County. Born in nearby Caswell County and educated at David Caldwell's Academy at Guilford and at the University, Archibald DeBow Murphey sought expression for the strongly democratic ideas developing through rugged pioneer living in the piedmont and the mountain sections. He was ready to voice the belief of the westerners that government had a duty to perform for its people—all of its people. Thoroughly informed on the economic conditions throughout the state, Murphey offered, in 1815, the first of a series of reform measures. During the next few years he was tireless in his efforts to bring both the people and the General Assembly to a realization of the benefits that his program would bring to North Carolina. In 1819 Murphey presented a Memoir on the Internal Improvements Contemplated by the Legislature of North Carolina. It was a masterly survey of geographic and economic conditions within the commonwealth, and it summed up his recommendations for a transportation system that would make use of the state's navigable streams, and that would promote the use of its coastal inner waterways. The program would also provide an east-west turnpike, together with subsidiary roads leading into it, which would funnel products from the piedmont and mountain regions into the state's eastern markets.18 Western North Carolina received considerable attention in these recommendations. Murphey's first suggestion concerning the area was authorization for making a new state map. The Price-Strother map, privately financed a few years earlier and �198 / Chapter Twelve N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Archibald DeBow Murphey: Murphey led a crusade for an east-west highway, a state public school system, and the revision of the state's constitution. After his death, western leaders continued the crusade that in time led to reforms. Murphy, the county seat of Cherokee County, was named in his honor. based upon the information available at that time, was hopelessly inaccurate in its depiction of the region between the Blue Ridge and the Smoky Mountains. With the rich valleys of the Tuckaseigee and Oconaluftee Rivers open to white settlement under the Cherokee treaty of 1819, it was imperative, he pointed out, to make information available to settlers. These lands, Murphey hoped, might attract some of the North Carolinians who would otherwise leave the state for western territories. To make the lands accessible he advocated the construction of a road west from Waynesville to the southwestern border of the state where it could connect with the old Cherokee trail to South Carolina and Georgia. He felt that the Cherokee land, when sold, should bring a million dollars into the coffers of the state. Murphey also urged that the two main highways in Buncombe County be improved and kept in good condition. The one going �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 199 south from Buncombe Courthouse to Rutherford County by way of Hickory Nut Gorge was in deplorable condition, and the other, from the courthouse to South Carolina by way of Saluda Gap, was likewise in need of immediate repairs. This highway, he considered "perhaps the most public road in the state." He reflected his own recent visit to the mountain village when he added, "The Traveller is astonished on reaching Buncombe Courthouse (called Morristown on the map but now called Asheville) to find people from six states in the Union in the same Hotel."19 Murphey maintained that the road, which traversed the mountain section from the South Carolina border to Tennessee by way of the French Broad River would continue to be a main trade artery and must be maintained as such. East of the Blue Ridge he advocated making use of the Yadkin, the Catawba, and the Broad Rivers as transportation arteries. He stressed the need of converting the poorly constructed and illy kept roads leading westward into all-weather highways over which products could be brought from Tennessee and from the mountain section to river towns for shipment south.20 To carry out his state-wide transportation project, basic to any financial progress of the commonwealth, Murphey urged the General Assembly to create a board of control and to make appropriations for converting some feasible plan into a reality. Inherent in his over-all plan were future possibilities for the growth of manufacturing as well as distinct advantages for such eastern cities as Wilmington and Beaufort; therefore, he hoped that the plan would appeal to the eastern delegates to the General Assembly. He knew that without their support any proposed bill was doomed to fail. But Murphey was disappointed. The easterners were, with a few exceptions, solidly opposed to the transportation project, and in session after session the western members of the General Assembly saw their economic hopes fade into legislative limbo. Murphey's vision for the progress of his state was not, however, limited to his dream of a state system of water and inland highways. He foresaw a partial solution to North Carolina's problem of inertia through a public school system. He was the first of the state's legislators to propose that the General Assembly set up a fund, to be administered by a state board and to be used in establishing a wholly or partially state supported system of schools. He advocated the establishment of primary schools and �200 / Chapter Twelve above them academies or high schools with the state university crowning the system. Murphey pointed out that, except for establishing the University, the provision in the 1776 Constitution enjoining the education of the people had been grossly neglected. He then cited the state's disgracefully high rate of illiteracy. Murphey also suggested the formation of two or more primary schools in each county, supported jointly by state and county, at which enrollment would be free for children unable to pay the tuition set for other pupils. In addition, ten regional academies would be operated partly by the state and partly by local funds which would be raised in part by tuition from those able to pay. The University, which had never received a penny from the state for its running expenses, would be greatly aided by state appropriations enabling it to expand its program. Schools for the state's deaf and dumb children were, under his plan, to be entirely state supported.21 Again the eastern planters who, year after year, represented their respective counties were not interested. They had no desire for public education for their own sons and saw no reason for taxing themselves to educate the poorer children in their part of the state or the children of settlers in the remote areas of the commonwealth. Some of them went so far as to claim no advantage in education for the masses. Every education bill was promptly killed by the adverse votes of the eastern delegates. The leaders from the West could see no hope for enlightening the people living on small piedmont farms or in isolated mountain coves. It gradually became clear to Murphey and to the growing group of western delegates rallying to his cause that there was, after all, only one solution for the problems facing the state. There must be either a new state constitution or a drastic revision of the one in force. The West had long felt the injustices which had grown up under the governmental regulations laid down by those designing the state's first constitution. Under it, each county, regardless of population, elected one senator to the upper house and two representatives to the lower house of the General Assembly. In addition, a few eastern cities—some of which were mere villages—elected a member each to the lower house. This borough system gave the east additional representation and power. As the number of counties increased, the legislative body became too large, cumbersome in its work, and expensive in its �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 201 operation. Since 1776 the sharp increase in population had taken place in the piedmont and mountain sections of the state, where one after another new counties had been formed until the population of those sections considerably outnumbered that of the eastern counties. But the East, with a just predominance of members in the legislature in 1776, had kept that superiority by the borough system. This was greatly resented by the mountain settlers, and so was the creation of a new eastern county for each authorized in the West.22 The democratic westerners, too, objected to other features ot the constitution. Under it, the only popular vote enjoyed by the people was for their representatives to the General Assembly. That body annually elected from its members the state's governor and other officials. Acting upon recommendation of the county's delegates to the General -Assembly, the governor appointed the county justices of the peace, the most influential county officers since they made up the quarterly or county court. Their terms were fof life, and they were answerable not to the people they served, but to the governor. Under this system, the governor was naturally subservient to the Assembly that elected him. Then, too, the privilege of voting was dependent upon a citizen's property possessions. Owning property entitled a man to vote for the county's representatives in the lower house of the Assembly, but he was required to own at least fifty acres of land before he could cast a vote for a senator. State office holders were likewise required to be land owners, one hundred acres being the minimum for a man seeking a seat in the lower house, and three hundred acres for one aspiring to a seat in the senate. Property valued at a thousand pounds sterling or more was required for one being considered by the Assembly for the governorship.23 All attempts made by Murphey to secure legislative authorization for a constitutional reform convention met with the same dismal fate as did his other reform measures. It must have seemed to this far-seeing statesman that the energies he had expended in behalf of North Carolina had been wasted. But such was far from the case, for his labors had set the slow mills of the gods to grinding. The progress-strangling control of the easterners was doomed. The forward-looking measures he advocated crystalized western opinions, and Murphey's dedication to the betterment of his state drew a following of younger men from the West ready to take up his work. He did not live to see any of his plans accepted, but before he passed from the scene �202 / Chapter Twelve N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY David Lowry Swain: Swain was born in Beaverdam valley near Asheville in 1801. He became the first native-born lawyer southwest of the Blue Ridge. He served as a member of the General Assembly, as Governor, and for 32 years as President of the State University at Chapel Hill, where he was affectionately known as "Old Warping Bars." in 1832, there were small but significant victories foreshadowing the accomplishments eventually to come. For instance, the General Assembly in 1819 created a Board ot Internal Improvement and employed a state engineer. It authorized subscriptions for several eastern navigation companies, and it created a small state fund for internal improvements, to be garnered from proceeds of Cherokee land sales and from certain state stock dividends. Under this board, steps were taken for a few long over-due roads in the mountain section, shades again of Murphey's plan. Accordingly, appropriations were made for a highway from Old Fort to Asheville and for a turnpike along the French Broad River that would connect Greenville, South Carolina, with Greefteville, Tennessee, passing through Asheville and Warm Springs. �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 203 This road, known as the Buncombe Turnpike, was begun in 1824 and completed three years later.24 It was to be a major factor in the life and progress of Western North Carolina for many years and was, for some time, the finest road in North Carolina. In 1820 an appropriation was made for improving the navigation of that section of the Broad River stretching from the South Carolina border to Twitty's Ford, and twelve years later funds were allocated for making the existing Hickory Nut Gap road an improved artery across the Blue Ridge.25 In 1822 the General Assembly set aside a fund known as the Agricultural Fund to aid in the program sponsored by the State Agricultural Society, which had been incorporated three years earlier. The Society had grown out of several county organizations formed with the aim of improving agriculture in the state. This measure proved a somewhat premature step, and the fund was later diverted to other projects.26 Still, it was a promise of later developments. Another step forward was taken with the publication of state geological surveys made by Denison Olmsted and Elisha Mitchell, both members of the University faculty.27 In 1825 the General Assembly yielded to the increasing pressure for state-sponsored education put forth by the delegates from the West, by ministers of various faiths, and by men connected with the State University. The legislature created a Literary Fund to be built up and eventually used for .public education. This fund was collected from dividends received from state-owned bank stock not otherwise allocated, from dividends of certain other state-owned stock, from taxes, from public land sales other than Cherokee land, and from appropriations. The Literary Fund was placed under a Board presided over by the governor as president and by the state treasurer. By 1836 it had received only $243,000, a part of which had been diverted to other purposes. But it kept the idea of a future public school system before the people, although the amount in the treasury of the Board was always too small to carry out its purpose. It was to be 1840 before log school houses would appear in the mountain coves.28 Yet the end of the do-nothing policy of the eastern Republicans was fast approaching, and the "Rip Van Winkle State" was arousing from its slumbers. Several factors were converging to bring about a change. For one thing, the demands of the now articulate West reflected the new and growing democratic movement sweeping across the entire nation and �204 / Chapter Twelve expressed in the 1824 campaign of Andrew Jackson for president. Seeing a hope for their progressive program under a "People's" president, the westerners broke politically with the easterners, and North Carolina ceased to be a one-party state.29 After 1832, when these same westerners had become bitterly disappointed in Jackson as president, they joined the ranks of the newly formed Whig party to oppose the easterners who had, somewhat to their own surprise, found Jackson's policies to their liking. A second factor in the forward movement was that now the voice of one man had become the voice of many; in the General Assembly a group of able and determined western leaders was headed by David Lowry Swain of Buncombe County. Swain was born in the Beaverdam settlement in 1801 and received the thorough training given at Newton Academy to boys in families of the first settlers in the mountains. When he appeared at the State University as a student, he was placed in the junior class. After a short stay at that institution, young Swain took up the study of law at Raleigh under the tutorship of John Louis Taylor, Chief Justice of North Carolina. In 1822 he returned to his native county to hang out his shingle in Asheville, becoming the town and Buncombe County's first native lawyer. With his ability to make friends and his deep interest in the problems of Western North Carolina, it was inevitable that he should turn to a political career. By 1832, at the age of thirty-one, Swain had served five terms in the General Assembly, had been Solicitor for one year, and had been elected as judge of the Superior Court. In the General Assembly he rallied the forces around Murphey and in advocating reforms, became an authority on taxation and on statistics showing the condition of the state. Those who worked with him came to respect his utter honesty and sincerity and forgot the ungainliness of his appearance, which was later to win him the affectionate nickname of "Old Warping Bars." His good will, tact, and diplomacy drew many friends from the eastern bloc, and his personal charm and clear-cut arguments won supporters to the cause of reform. He threw the weight of his growing popularity and the force of his sound judgment based on facts into the struggle for two of Murphey's reform measures— highway improvement and constitutional reform. It was largely due to Swain's efforts that such desperately needed roads as the Buncombe Turnpike were authorized. As Murphey, through a series of unfortunate circumstances, withdrew from political prominence, Swain became the �Boundaries and Western Leadership / 205 acknowledged leader of the Whig party in North Carolina and in 1832 was elected governor, winning the necessary support from eastern delegates in the General Assembly. Thus Western North Carolina was represented in the highest office of the state.30 As governor, Swain pointed out that not a major project along any line of internal improvement was in progress in the state. He set about an unrelenting campaign for the authorization of a constitutional convention. He was extremely popular in the state, and during his three terms as chief executive he led the General Assembly, to which he refused to be subservient, into the most receptive reform mood it had yet attained. By 1832 Governor Swain's constitutional reform measure had, almost by accident, found favor with two groups among the eastern delegates. One was the Roman Catholic group, whose brilliant member, William Gaston, could be removed from his position as Justice of the Supreme Court if the General Assembly desired to carry out the 1776 Constitutional provision debarring Catholics from office. The other group centered around Fayetteville, which, after the destructive fire of the capitol, put forth an effort to have the capitol moved from Raleigh to Fayetteville. Such a move would require a constitutional change. Some degree of support was now also forthcoming from the area around Albemarle Sound because of the suggested waterway improvements for that region. Thus by the untiring efforts of Governor Swain and a group of able westerners, aided by leaders from the interested eastern groups, a law was passed in the Assembly in 1834 to submit the question of a constitutional convention to a popular vote. In the referendum that resulted a majority of almost seven thousand votes was cast favoring the calling of such a convention. For the most part, each section voted solidly according to the old line-up. At a second election delegates to the convention were chosen, and these assembled in Raleigh in June 1835.31 With the East and the West still opposed to each other's program, it took the tact and diplomatic skill of all the leaders, headed by the Governor, to work out acceptable compromises. But by July 11 the Convention had a list of revisions to submit to the people and adjourned. At the referendum the voters expressed practically the same majority acceptance of the amendments as they had for the calling of the convention. Again the votes were sectional in their distribution.32 The amendments were made the law of the land, and the first major step had been taken in making �206 / Chapter Twelve possible industrial and economic progress in North Carolina. At last the "Rip Van Winkle State" was awake. Under the revised constitution, the governor was to be elected for a two-year term by a direct vote of the people. While he might succeed himself, he could hold office not more than four out of any six years. Equal representation in the General Assembly was abolished. Instead, the upper chamber or Senate was to be made up of fifty members representing districts into which the state was divided. The lower house or House of Commons was to have 120 members elected by counties according to population; each county was to have at least one representative. The General Assembly was to meet biennially, and all voters, it stipulated, must be white males, twenty-one years of age or over. Property qualifications for voting for governor and for members of the House of Commons were abolished. But each voter casting a ballot for a senator was still required to show proof of possessing at least fifty acres of land. There were many other changes. Among them was the substitution of the word Christian for the word Protestant in the religious tests for office, the abolishment of the old borough representation, and the presentation of two methods of constitutional revision.33 Although much would have to be done later in the amended constitution, democracy had come to the people, and it had come through the efforts and the ideals of the West, led first by a piedmont leader and then by a man from the mountains. �C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N Gold in the Hills and on the Highways iVluch of the story of the European conquest of the two Americas had been the story of the white man's insatiable appetite for gold. The precious yellow metal was the will-o-the-wisp that lured DeSoto and his Spanish army into the mountains of Western North Carolina in the sixteenth century. Gold also led hopeful Spanish prospectors, during the next 125 years, to slip into the region and carry on limited mining operations that they tried to keep secret. The Indians—both the Cherokees and the Catawbas—knew of these attempts and told English traders and explorers, who, in turn, took rumors of Spanish gold discoveries back to the coastal settlements. Accordingly, those areas sent men out to "explore beyond the mountaine." Men who later pushed westward to settle were ever on the alert for gold and silver. Small amounts of both these metals had been found, and gold in limited quantities had been panned from streams or mined from surface mines during the colonial period of western settlement.1 But it was not until after the Revolutionary War that the cry of "Gold!" brought a wave of hopeful prospectors into Western North Carolina. The gold rush began around 1799 after twelve year old Conrad Reed found an interesting looking seventeenpound "rock" on his father's farm in newly created Cabarrus 207 �208 / Chapter Thirteen ^^^a&'v%^«v:;::-y'V'^^'7 a : ^ ^mK"./»mf:$i~'^ / 4tllJ'r N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY A Bechtler Coin: These pictures show the obverse and reverse of a gold dollar coined by Christopher Bechtler at his private mint near Rutherfordton. In his later dies he corrected the N in ONE. He also coined two-fifty and five dollar gold pieces. Between January, 1831, and February, 1840, the Bechtler mint coined $2,241,850 in gold coins. County. The "rock" proved to be ore rich with its lode of gold. In the Reed mine that was there developed unbelievably large gold nuggets were later discovered, a few weighing from twenty to twenty-eight pounds.2 New discoveries continued, and mines were opened in thirteen counties, those in Burke and Rutherford being so rich that by 1825 these counties were the scene of the nation's most extensive gold mining operations.3 These operations were carried on by any available method of mining. Gold dust floating in the waters of the streams was collected by the slow process of panning—by letting the water run through sieve-bottomed pans. A somewhat more elaborate method for the amateur was to run the gold-laden water from sluice boxes into a trough made by hollowing out a log. This log was kept in motion as the water flowed through it to keep the silt and sand afloat and moving with the water. The heavier gold sank and was caught by cleats nailed across the floor of the trough. To improve the system quicksilver or mercury might be mixed with the sand.4 The gold particles and dust thus obtained could be put into a cloth or leather bag to be weighed out for purchases or, if taken to the mint in Philadelphia, made into coins. Where the metal was found in the rocks, men hacked out the nuggets with pick axes and shovels. It was all slow, hard work, but it was rewarding. For example, according to Rutherford ton's newspaper, The North �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways I 209 Carolina Spectator and Western Advertiser, a man in 1830 could pan two dollars worth of dust a day from gold-carrying streams and get a similar amount from a surface mine. In 1830 in Western North Carolina the sum of two dollars, with its high purchasing power, was indeed hard to come by.5 It has been estimated that in Burke County alone, over a period of years, a thousand men were devoting their time to this individual method of mining.6 As might be expected, the publicity given to the discovery of new mines spread far afield and into the gold area came thousands of eager people who had just one interest in common—the finding of gold. Indeed, these newcomers, crowding along the narrow, muddy roads of the back country and on to the foothills of the Blue Ridge, made up a motley group, representing perhaps all of the nationalities and the races that Europe was sending to the "Melting Pot" that was America. Their ideals and morals were as varied as their backgrounds. Towns and mining communities mushroomed into being, and many were the tales later told of the lusty, boisterous life of these camps.7 Men with money to invest, especially if it might quickly be doubled or tripled, arrived from northern states and European countries to form mining companies that were readily incorporated by the General Assembly. These men bought up mines already in operation or leased lands that gave promise of rich deposits. There they sank shafts, set up machinery to pulverize the rock and get the gold, and hired hundreds of the incoming men as "hands." The newspaper accounts, bristling with the excitement of gold fever, told of mines selling for $4,500 and $6,000. Two men declined to accept $5,000 for their joint interest in a mine, while one owner even refused the fabulous offer of $35,000 for his land.8 Some, although far from all, of the mines opened in the state gave satisfactory returns to the investors, who brought into the state an estimated capital investment of $100,000,000.9 By 1814 some of the yield of the mines was reaching the government mint in Philadelphia, which that year recorded receiving $11,000 in North Carolina gold. Much more was forthcoming, and prior to 1829 the state was furnishing all of the gold minted at Philadelphia where the records show that during the period of extensive mining it received more than $9,000,000 of gold from the state, the largest amount in any single year being $475,000 in 1833. North Carolina was justly crowned the "Golden State."10 But that record is only a small, perhaps a very small, part of the picture of North Carolina mining. How much gold was �210 / Chapter Thirteen ;s^^:;^^;!;; j l^^^f^-^^^ .. .• c? --;:/f ^°>"|0"o.-.. ^.r.'.-^-r^UM'-. ' '"• /;VMO r,,-^,,,,- ^P ^ ' V ^ •^ov,-''^" THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. /I Drovers} Road: Horses, hogs, geese, and turkeys from states to the north joined droves that each autumn thundered and squawked along the Buncombe Turnpike. Other droves made use of roads farther west and still others passed over roads east of the Blue Ridge. AII the animals were destined for markets in southern states. �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 211 extracted from the streams and mines from 1799 to 1860 will never be known. For an estimate one can only hazard a guess, for the records of most of the companies have been lost or destroyed, while the amounts panned by thousands of individuals were not kept. An untold amount went into jewelry for home demands and some was used to fill orders from other states and European markets. An estimated $600,000 worth was used for that purpose in 1832 alone. Then, too, some of the companies sent their gold to European countries. Much gold was undoubtedly lost in transactions, for both gold dust and gold nuggets or ore passed as a medium of exchange. It may well be that only a small portion of the estimated $50,000,000 to $65,000,000 worth of gold actually mined ever reached a mint.11 The gold boom came at a period when money was exceedingly scarce throughout the piedmont and mountain sections; in fact, many a home saw pitifully few coins of any kind—American, English, or Spanish—during a year's time. The widespread method of all purchasing was barter. Thus gold in any form meant an advantageous purchasing power to the man fortunate enough to pan a bit of the precious metal. Although coins were far more convenient than dust or ingots in making business transactions, few men had the time or the inclination to carry their gold in saddlebags that could not be protected over the long, difficult road to far-away Philadelphia. Nor were they willing to transport it by stage coach, a method slow, costly, and dangerous. So the ancient method employed by Abraham in buying a plot for Sarah's tomb was resorted to in nineteenth century Western North Carolina, and gold dust was measured or weighed out for the purchase of land or goods. It is no wonder, then, that when in 1831 the Bechtlers set up a mint in Rutherfordton, they were able to do a thriving business. Among those arriving in Rutherfordton in 1830 were the Bechtlers—Christopher, his sons, Augustus and Charles, and his nephew, Christopher, Jr. There the elder Christopher bought land and built his home a few miles from the village. They had arrived by way of the Pennsylvania R3ad and on their way from New York harbor had stopped in Philadelphia long enough for Christopher and Augustus to set in motion the process of naturalization. In the Grand Duchy of Baden, their native country, they had been trained as metal workers. Now in their Rutherfordton home they again set up a shop and made and sold necklaces and brooches, cufflinks and shirt studs, rings and watch �212 / Chapter Thirteen chains, "executed to order, in the neatest and most skillful manner."12 In addition to jewelry, the inventive Bechtlers also designed and manufactured rifles that would fire shots at a greater rate per minute. Since every settler was also a hunter, there was a ready market for these guns. Christopher, who with his son Augustus, was proud ot his newly acquired American citizenship, found himself deeply interested in conditions in his new country. In 1831, he took the first step in helping to solve one of its pressing problems—the lack of currency. After he and his family had designed dies and had laboriously made the necessary machinery, he advertised the opening of a mint at which, for a modest fee, he would assay gold and for a coining charge of two and a half per cent would coin a customer's gold into pieces valued at $2.50 and $5.00. The next year he added gold dollars, and for those having coins made he assayed the gold without charge. Always he gave back to the owner a sufficient amount of the gold for another assay, together with his record, so that, should the customer choose to do so, he could confirm Bechtler's record.13 In a shed built over a cellar the goldsmiths worked. There they assayed, refined, and coined the gold brought to their mint. Using the United States coins as their standards, the Bechtlers made each of theirs equal in value to the corresponding federal coin. But since the gold brought to them often varied in fineness, coins in each denomination varied in size and weight. Each contained the exact amount of gold used by the government, however, and each was stamped with the fineness of the gold and the weight of the coin. The name Bechtler with the initial C or A also appeared as did the name Rutherford. In addition to North Carolina gold, the Rutherford mint also received small amounts from South Carolina and some from Georgia. Since the metal varied in color according to its source— that from the mountains being somewhat duller in color than that mined farther east and south—the coins varied in brightness. Each was stamped with the metal source. Dies had to be designed and made not only for each denomination, but also for each variety in a denomination. Until 1834 the coins bore no date, but in that year the government set up a new standard for its coins. The Bechtlers, in order to conform, had to discard their complete set of dies and make new ones. Thereafter, each coin carried the date 1834 to indicate that it belonged to the new series and thus conformed to the national standard.14 �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 213 The federal government had established a mint in Philadelphia in 1792, but the coining of gold and silver had not yet been designated as a function of the national government alone. The Bechtler mint was the first private mint in the nation, but later contracts were entered into by the government with other goldsmiths. The government felt responsible for the integrity of the country's currency and in 1834 sent investigators to Rutherfordton to inspect the Bechtler mint. Their report was most favorable, showing that the coins made there had a slightly higher gold content than did the corresponding federal coins. No attempt was made then or later to halt or to hinder the coinage at the Rutherfordton mint. Instead, the federal government recognized the service being rendered by this mint in furnishing the region with badly needed currency, thus helping to raise the economic level of the area it served. In order to further that progress, a federal mint at Charlotte was established by an act of Congress in 1835. The new mint was open for coining in 1837.15 Although records are not available, from an 1840 report of the superintendent of the Charlotte mint, it would seem that the Bechtlers, during the first nine years of their mint, coined $2,241,855 worth of coins and assayed a far greater sum. No Bechtler coin carried a national symbol; yet all coins turned out by the mint were accepted at face value throughout the region and the state, in fact, throughout the nation. Many a contract called for payment in Bechtler coins, and many a westward-bound North Carolinian took with him enough Bechtler money to buy a farm when he reached his destination in some new territory. So it was that Rutherford coins sometimes came to light far from the mint that coined them.16 After the death of the elder Christopher, his son moved the jewelry and rifle shop into Rutherfordton. Soon afterward the work was divided, with Christopher, the nephew, taking over the mint. It continued operation until some time during the 1850's with, it seems sure, a decreasing amount of business, for after 1837 much of the gold mined was taken to the Charlotte mint for coming. In fact, many owners of Bechtler coins in time took them to the new mint for recoining into money stamped with the national symbols. That fact combined with the small size of the coins, making them easily lost, accounts for the comparatively few Bechtler coins in existence today. Still, it is impossible to overestimate the part played by these skilled artisans and their coins in the economic progress of Western North Carolina. It is a �214 / Chapter Thirteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Early settlers drove their surplus hogs to local markets. Later these small droves were taken to the turnpikes to join animals trudging to market. The short-legged hogs could cover only eight to ten miles a day. An estimated 140,000 to 160,000 hogs squealed and grunted their way through Asheville in a single season. shining tribute to the Bechtlers that in the years when they handled gold valued in the millions of dollars no question of their honesty ever arose. Their business transactions conformed to the same high standard of integrity that they required of their coins.17 While east of the Blue Ridge the economic pressure was being eased by the gold from the hills and the coins from the Bechtler's mint, the settlers west of that range were discovering a different kind of gold. The General Assembly, which in 1819 had reluctantly created a state fund for internal improvements, was induced in 1823 by delegates from the West to appropriate money for subsidizing a highway that would connect the mountain area �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 215 with eastern markets. The next year the Buncombe Turnpike Company was incorporated with an authorized capital of $50,000 to be raised by the sale of shares at $50 a share. Contractors began work on the road, which connected at Saluda Gap with South Carolina's road from Charleston. It passed through the present Henderson County to Asheville, then stretched along the French Broad River to Warm Springs, and at Paint Rock joined a Tennessee road. The Turnpike thus connected Greenville, South Carolina, with Greeneville, Tennessee.18 In spite of the narrowness of the French Broad Gorge, necessitating numerous fords and side fords, a road had long followed the stream. The first one could have been no more than a path or trail, and it is amazing that a vehicle of any type could negotiate its ledges and rocks, its mud and its fords. Yet in 1795 at least two wagons coming from South Carolina accomplished that incredible feat. The citizens of Knoxville must indeed have had difficulty believing their eyes as the wagons rumbled into the village. Just two months earlier, Governor William Blount of Tennessee had advocated a French Broad road from his state to the Buncombe County Courthouse to be constructed by the two states.19 By the turn of the century such a project seems to have been undertaken, not by the states but by the prevailing method of requiring local residents along its route to do road work in their own sections. The best that could be said for the results of their rather haphazard labors was that a rider on horseback could get over it, and a wagoner with perseverance and luck might succeed in saving his stout wagon during its upsets over rocks and across fords. All travelers testified that a trip on the road required not only patience, but fortitude and endurance. As time went on, the repeated workings improved conditions somewhat, so that in 1812 Bishop Francis Asbury, making his annual journey to Asheville, commented on the "fine new road."20 Despite improvements it was never a highway conducive to commercial travel. The mountain section had no hope of economic progress until a road suitable for trade could be constructed. With the completion of the Turnpike in 1827, therefore, a new day dawned in Western North Carolina. With the finest highway in North Carolina to travel, settlers with their wagons piled with household goods and farm equipment now came into the region to make their homes. Strings of covered wagons wound along the Turnpike from east of the �216 / Chapter Thirteen mountains, taking their owners to the hoped-for greener pastures of unseen western territories. High stepping horses hitched to light carriages—now brought into the hills for the first time or made by resident wagon makers—dashed along the road. They made unbelievably rapid time in getting their masters from Asheville or Greenville to Warm Springs, which had mushroomed into a health and recreation center.21 Stores in Asheville were soon showing a large and varied assortment of merchandise brought over the new highway, and on the streets of the village were hitched more horses from the surrounding areas than ever before. Wagon yards were opened to accommodate the stream of travelers. Inns and taverns sprang up along the route and carried on a thriving business, and land offices helped the incoming settlers to locate suitable real estate. It was as a means of getting the products of the farms and woods to markets that the Buncombe Turnpike played its most important role, however, and proved to be a veritable gold mine to those living along or near it. No longer did a man have to think in terms of transporting his surplus by horseback. Wagon makers in their enlarged or newly established shops tried to make wagons fast enough to keep up with the demands. But the wagons could not be used for the meat the farmers took to market on the hoof. Up and down the French Broad River, beyond in the valleys of Tennessee and Kentucky, and north of the Ohio in Illinois the problem was—in fact, had been since the earliest settlers arrived—the task of getting products to market. The Southern Appalachians everywhere presented a barrier to towns to the east. The enterprising pioneers partially solved the difficulty by feeding the grain they raised in the broad, fertile, river valleys to live stock and fowls and then herding the animals to South Carolina towns. There planters with broad acres of cotton tended by battalions of Negro slaves were always in the market for food for men and animals. Even before the Turnpike was constructed, the old French Broad River road had echoed with the squeals of hogs being driven along it to the Charleston highway. The new Turnpike increased the number of these drives of four-footed animals to astounding figures.22 When the crops had been harvested, the cool, dry days of October arrived to spread their flaunting colors over the mountain sides, and a thin blue haze veiled the peaks and sifted through the valleys. The men now rounded up their horses and mules from lush meadows or from the high, grassy balds of the �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 217 uplands. They brought in their hogs from the woods, each one marked with its registered, mutilated ear or its branded flank and each one now fattened and sleek from a rich diet of nuts and acorns. Or perhaps the farmers collected the turkeys from their roosting trees and gathered the quacking ducks from the farmyard. They then began the long, slow trek to the Turnpike that crossed the mountains and followed the river that wound over Saluda Gap to connect with the road leading to distant Augusta or Charleston. For the next two months the Turnpike was alive with noisy, dust-raising animals, unwilling travelers to the slaughter. Usually each owner preceded his drove, leading the way on horseback. Appropriately enough, he was known as the drover. Sometimes, however, a speculator would take the combined herds of neighbors and become the drover, hoping to make a profit for himself as well as for the owners when he disposed of his charges. The drover had several helpers, often young men or half-grown boys, who walked behind as drivers or at the sides of the herds to keep the animals in line and moving. These men—husky, outdoor men—cracked their long, snapping whips in the air above the backs of laggards or strays, while their strong voices rang out in calls and commands that the animals understood and sometimes obeyed. The drovers of horses and mules had the least transportation difficulties and made comparatively rapid time from their homes to their destinations. But from eight to ten miles a day was as far as fowls would travel or as far as the short legs of hogs could take their owners.23 The demand for hams, lard, and fatback was practically limitless, and more hogs made their deliberate way along the Turnpike than did any other live stock. Drovers of hogs entered the broad highway at any and all toll gates along its length. The animals came protestingly into it from subsidiary roads, poor and narrow, from the valleys to the east, and from the regions to the west. Roads, like the Cataloochee road, were widened from the ancient Indian trail that connected the Pigeon River area with the territory around Cosby and Newport, Tennessee. Sometimes nightfall caught a drove of hogs some distance from a tavern, although such a mishap was more apt to occur when the travelers were turkeys. These fowl were unpredictable in their movements and at the coming of early dusk were apt to take to the first trees they saw for a well-earned night's rest. �218 / Chapter Thirteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The Alexander Hotel: At Alexander's Inn and stand on the French Broad River north of Asheville men and animals could spend the night. Drovers were lodged in rooms with other drovers. Drivers slept rolled up in blankets on the floor of the "great room." When that happened, the drivers stretched out on the softest spot of ground available and spent the night with the flock. But customarily, drovers and their drivers tried to manage the animals and flocks so that they would reach a stand by nightfall. All of the live stock had to be fed enroute, and the men themselves needed food and lodging. These demands were ably met by enterprising citizens along the highway. Privately erected and operated inns and their accompanying stands were built at six to eight mile intervals along the entire route, where both men and beasts could find rest and food. The first concern of the men upon reaching the stand was for the stock. The animals were driven into wide pens enclosed with rail fences and given the day's one feeding, eight bushels of corn for each hundred hogs. With their appetites satisfied, and supplied with water, the hogs, after a few happy grunts, slept the sleep of the travel-worn. The turkeys gobbled up their portion of grain and took to the trees, and the horses contentedly swished their tails as they munched their quota of oats. Their chores completed, the men then removed the outer layer of the day's dust from face and hands and went into the inn, a �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 219 rambling one or two story building, where they did full justice to the hearty meal that awaited them. Cooked as the mountain men liked them were vegetables from the inn keeper's garden, meats from his own hogs and from the surrounding woods, hot biscuits made in his kitchen and dripping with newly churned butter, all washed down with milk, strong coffee or, if one preferred, with more potent drinks. The drovers might be lodged in rooms with several fellow travelers, but the drivers were more than content to roll up in blankets on the floor of the great hall, unmindful ot the hardness of the boards beneath their thin pallets. No charge was made for those sleeping on the floor, but meals cost the drovers twenty-five cents per man. For corn for his hogs and fowl the drovers paid the inn keeper seventy-five cents per bushel. Long before sun-up the entire establishment was astir, for the men were eager to be finished with their breakfast and to get their droves and flocks onto the Turnpike, each hoping to be the first in the onward moving van and thus to avoid the great volumes of dust left hanging in the air by previous travelers. Moreover, they wanted to make all possible mileage before the heat of the day that slowed the pace of the animals. So, one after another, the drivers got their animals from the pens and their fowl from the trees. Giving their calls and snapping whips, they got the animals and flocks once more tramping stolidly down the highway, soon screened from view by a curtain of dust. Upon leaving the tavern, the drover might pay the innkeeper in cash, but he frequently gave a due bill, which he redeemed in a few weeks on his return from the markets. Frequently, too, he paid a part or all of the bill with hogs. The habitual laggards, the limping, and the sore-footed, together with the cantankerous, were left along the way as payment for lodging and food. These animals would later be killed and as hams, sausage, and roasts, appear on the inn keeper's table or be taken to southern markets on his next purchasing trip into South Carolina. The innkeeper was, perforce, a man of many trades. To supply the drovers with corn, he bought vast stores, filling his immense cribs. To avoid confusion, he sent word throughout the countryside that at a certain date, well in advance of the autumn drives, he would purchase corn. On that day the farmers came, their wagons bursting with corn for which they received fifty cents per bushel. They might receive payment in money. But more often each man took what was coming to him in trade, for the stand keeper was the neighborhood merchant. �220 / Chapter Thirteen Once or twice a year the stand owner put the surplus products he had received from the drovers and those he had bought from the farmers into one or more stout wagons and traveled the Turnpike to Augusta or even to Charleston. There he exchanged his load for the merchandise needed in his community. It often took six horses to pull his heavily laden wagons over the steep, curving roads. Farmers fortunate enough not to need all their payment in goods might leave the remainder due them with the stand keeper, who thus also became the community's banker. Often, to be sure, the debt went the other way, and a farmer received supplies during the year to be paid for when his corn crop was ready to deliver to the stand.24 For longer than most men's life-times these drives continued, and it was not until the railroads crossed the mountains and traversed the area to the west that they ceased. During those years untold numbers of men and animals traveled south over the Turnpike and through the villages of Western North Carolina. Records indicate that between 150,000 and 160,000 hogs grunted and squealed their way through the village of Asheville in a single season. David Vance, stand keeper at Marshall, said he had fed as many as ninety thousand hogs in a single month. Often fifty to a hundred men were fed and lodged, and several thousand hogs were kept in a stand during a night.25 Although the Buncombe Turnpike was the scene ot the largest and most continuous drives, other Western North Carolina highways also served as links between farms to the north and markets to the south and east. Along the old Wilderness Road, Tennessee and Kentucky men drove their horses and hogs to Jordan Council's stand at the present Boone to sell them to Council, inn keeper and merchant. He in turn hired drivers to get the animals down the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge, then east to Virginia markets, or once off the mountains, they might turn south on the highway leading through Morganton and Rutherford ton to Spartanburg or go by way of King's Mountain to Charleston. Farther west in the mountains, on the old Indian trails widened into roads, the droves sometimes went into Georgia and then continued east into South Carolina.26 In the mid 1850's new east-west roads were built by incorporated companies, connecting the extreme border counties of the state at both the Tennessee and the Georgia lines with Asheville and thereby with the section east of the Blue Ridge. Horses, mules, hogs, and turkeys trudged and thundered along these roads every autumn.27 �Gold in the Hills and on the Highways / 221 This autumn traffic was destructive to roads, necessitating frequent and expensive repairs. But the great, moving river of livestock brought the first wave of prosperity that the region west of the Blue Ridge had experienced. The livestock trade did even more, for it set the entire economic pattern of the mountain section. Although they were being aided economically by the gold mining that was the spectacular feature of the period, the counties east of the Blue Ridge also felt the impact of the great droves tramping southward along their highways. Farmers there profited economically, perhaps, more from the cattle and from the sale of their corn at the many stands along the trade routes than they did from the precious yellow metal being taken from their hills.28 �C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N Light and Shade in the Mountains the first the Buncombe Turnpike set the pattern of living along its route. To a lesser degree that was true with every road along which the drivers passed. The farmers could now market comparatively easily all the grain they could raise. Instead of feeding their corn to hogs that had to be taken to distant markets, they took it to the nearest stand. Because the demand was insatiable, they cleared more land and planted more corn, abandoning the worn out fields for new ones with no apparent concern for the future of the soil. But they prospered, those farmers whose acres lay in the fertile river valleys and so did the entire area.1 The pleasant new economic status of each prospering farmer was soon evident in his new house, for the original log cabin of a few years before became the "summer kitchen," a storehouse, or a shop. A roomy, comfortable home took its place as the residence of the family. The new dwelling might also be of logs or of broad, axe-hewn timbers; however, with the coming of the saw mills, some of which were water driven, it might be constructed of dressed lumber if its owner were willing to wait months or a year to cut, dress, and cure the lumber. In the villages some of the newly built homes were of brick. In any case, the new house was far more pretentious than the one it replaced. In most instances it belonged to the architectural design that became known as the "dog-trot" house or to the style called a "saddle-bag" house. 222 �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 223 In both of these styles the builders surmounted the difficulty of preparing and handling lengthy logs or timbers by erecting two small, two-roomed buildings of equal size with a floored space between and enclosing all under one roof. In the "dog-trot" house the wide, intervening space, usually about ten feet, was open at the ends, affording the family a delightfully cool breezeway for summer days and allowing room entrances sheltered from inclement weather. This middle section served as a sheltered spot for storing gear and provisions, for curing pelts, and as an ideal retreat for the hounds. Sometimes a stairway on the breezeway led to the full height second story that practically duplicated the design of the first floor and replaced the old low-ceilinged loft. Chimneys were constructed at the outer sides of the units, and windows were placed in the ends. Except for the inconvenience of shivering across the "dog-trot" in winter to go from the kitchendining room section to the opposite bedroom unit, these houses were extremely comfortable and the style persisted. Many are still standing, and a few still serve as homes. The "saddle-bag" design differed in that the space between the two units was narrow and closed at the ends. In this space the chimney was built and the stairway placed. It also provided rather ample storage space. The Sherrill Inn at Hickory Nut Gap, which for many years afforded rest and abundant refreshment to travelers weary with a day's mountain trip, proved the practical value of the "saddle-bag" style of architecture. 2 Around his house—the old and the new—the prosperous farmer constructed a cluster of buildings, many of them still made of logs, at least until the coming of the steam-powered saw mills. Long after the Turnpike could bring finished products into the mountains, homemakers continued to need a shop and forge where tools could be made and repaired. The farmer needed barns and built large, cantilever type structures to house his horses and to store his hay. He needed shelter for the cattle, storage buildings for his grain, cribs for corn, and sheds for his gear. Essential to his food problem were the smoke house for curing and storing a supply of meat, a vegetable cellar, a spring house, and, if he had an orchard, an apple shed. Most of the farmers, too, had a structure and equipment for making brandy and a still for manufacturing a part of their grain into liquors.3 These stills had appeared as soon as settlers entered the region and could be found in all sections of the "back country" and the mountains. The stills enabled the farmer to get his bulky crop of �224 / Chapter Fourteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Over the Buncombe Turnpike, called the "finest road in the state,)} came settlers with their belongings and wagons. Many found homes in the mountains. Others sought greener pastures farther west or north. corn to market in the form of potent liquids sealed in jugs and strung together with long leather thongs so that they could be balanced over the back of a horse. In this way one horse could, without protest, carry the equivalent of eight bushels of corn to market. 4 The first Western North Carolina farmers had been unaffected by the early government attempt to collect an excise tax on whiskey and by the subsequent quelling of the Pennsylvania farmers who, in defiance of the tax, had instigated the so-called "Whiskey Rebellion." The federal government later repealed the tax,5 and the mountain settler, probably unaware that it had ever been in force, continued to take his jugs of homemade whiskey to the county seat on court days and to all the muster days of the local militia. If he were fortunate, a permit was obtained from the judge to sell his wares in the village. Failing in that, he could always find a means of disposing of the contents of his jugs. As the Turnpike led to better subsidiary roads, the farmers prospering from them and from the Turnpike itself discontinued this method of selling their corn. Instead they sold all they had to the stands. But most of them continued to distill their own year's supply of spirituous drinks.6 As the years rolled by, the wagons continued to rumble into Western North Carolina with their loads of supplies and luxuries. The droves of hogs continued to thunder along all the roads each autumn, and the demand for corn continued to increase. It looked as though good times had come to stay. Both east and west of the Blue Ridge every passing decade brought larger and more �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 225 pretentious homes, more cleared land and larger fields, more conveniences for home and farm, and better machinery and tools. In time there developed more schools and churches, broader social contacts and more connection with the outside world. The new roads and the improved older ones opened the way for comparatively rapid and dependable connections between communities by means of the stage coach, making regular mail service possible for the first time in Western North Carolina. Rutherfordton had acquired a post office in 1798 and Asheville in 1801.7 Five years later Asheville was designated as the mail distribution center for a wide surrounding area that included parts of Tennessee, North and South Carolina, and Georgia. In 1831 two-horse stagecoaches were taking both passengers and mail once a week from Lincolnton to Asheville by way ot Rutherfordton and Edneyville. Departing at four o'clock on Saturday morning, passengers could be in Asheville by eight o'clock Sunday evening, having covered a distance of 110 miles.8 A stage and mail route from Salem to Greenville, South Carolina, passing through Morganton and Rutherfordton, allowed for fourhorse coaches making two trips per week. In fact, in 1831 Rutherfordton could boast of being on six stagecoach routes and of having a three-times-a-week mail service.9 Passengers preferred traveling on the mail coaches since their operators, under contract with the federal government, could require all road overseers along the route to keep the highways cleared of animals and fallen trees and to fill all mud holes. But all of the passengers were grateful for the rapid transportation offered by all the stagecoaches. Coaches appeared on the Buncombe Turnpike soon after its completion and in time furnished daily service. People jolted uncomplainingly along it in the springless coaches, making hitherto unheard of time from one Greenville to the other. On good roads the four-horse coaches, stopping at stands at short intervals to get fresh horses, could cover the incredible distance of sixty miles in a day.10 A coach could carry eight passengers inside, while several others could find traveling space on top with the driver. The baggage was carried at the rear of the conveyance and was protected from rain and dust by leather coverings. The coaches were highly decorated, and their entrance into a village, announced by the driver's horn, was the most exciting event ot the day or week. As it came to a dramatic stop before the inn, men and boys gathered to witness the loading and unloading, to receive an �226 / Chapter Fourteen DORIS ULMANN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Dye Pots: Until after the Civil War, mountain women made their dyes from vegetables, roots, and bark. With these dyes they colored the linen thread and the woolen yarns which they wove into the linsey-woolsey cloth for their families* clothing. This picture, taken at the John C. Campbell Folk School, shows the process of dyeing as it was done in pioneer days. occasional family letter, and to watch the driver's dextrous use of his long whip and his skillful maneuvering in getting the coach again on its way. Every young boy had hopes that some day he might hold the reins of such a fleet vehicle and guide the destiny of a glittering coach. Life in Western North Carolina had become an exciting and pleasant experience with comfortable prospects for the future.11 But that was not the complete story. The changes wrought by the trade arteries did not reach back into the mountain coves and small isolated mountain valleys. The groups of men and women living in these remote areas were made up of settlers arriving after the best lands had been taken, together with those who, through misfortune or their own dislike of or failure at farming, lost their rich acres and retreated to less productive land. They were joined in these more remote areas by those who were frontiersmen at heart and whose primary interest was in hunting and trapping and who had, like Daniel Boone before them, no desire to be restricted by the demands of farming on a large scale. These men and their �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 227 MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Cabins like this one long continued to shelter families living in remote coves and away from the main highways. families built their little log cabins in the secluded coves and in the sharp, narrow valleys on the sloping sides of the mountains. They cleared a bit of ground and with the help of their wives and children raised a few patches of corn, later one of tobacco, a field or two of other grains, and a vegetable garden. They set out a tew apple and cherry trees and erected stills. The family stock usually included a horse or two, perhaps an ox for the plowing, a cow, the hogs needed to furnish the year's supply of hams and lard and fatback, and a "passel" of hunting, hounds. Most of the livestock could forage for themselves in the woods and mountain glades. The family larder received meats from the hunts, and the men took furs, a few hams, and jugs of whiskey to trade in the nearest village. They brought back the sugar, salt, and the few tools needed, along with a few yards of calico. The housewife's loom supplied much of the cloth for the family clothes, and a traveling cobbler made the family shoes. These men and women continued to live as had all the mountain settlers during their first years in the hills.12 Nothing worthy the name of a road entered these isolated �228 / Chapter Fourteen , 'T>»^$&<T^& r^i ••*' ; .<"•' MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY For several generations, farm women very sensibly did their laundry out of doors near a stream. They boiled the clothes in a wash pot and beat the dirt out of them with a battling stick. areas, and usually only the men made the necessary trips out of the community. With almost no opportunity for outside contacts, these mountain people were by-passed by the progress that came to other areas. Groups of neighbors and relatives made up the little world of cove and mountain families, walled in by the majesty of the towering hills. For this reason the types of tools they brought with them, the style of clothes worn when they first crossed into the mountains, the kind of cabins first built, the games they knew and the songs they sang, even the language spoken when they arrived as first settlers persisted while neighboring areas progressed. Daily life for these highlanders of Western North Carolina was hard. Their farming tools were crude and few, and the soil was, on the whole, unfriendly to cultivation. Conveniences were unknown. Children were born, grew up, suffered mishaps and illnesses, became old and died without the attention of doctors.13 Traveling ministers on horseback brought occasional messages of religion, married the young people, and sometimes succeeded in organizing a congregation and building a "churchhouse." There services could be held more or less regularly; summer camp meetings could be conducted; and in the �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 229 MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY This school house in the cove had no need for a chimney. The six or eight weeks' sessions were held when the weather was mild. Text books were few, and the teacher received about $16 a month. surrounding grounds those who died could be laid to rest. Schools did not appear in these areas until after 1840, and long after that date the school facilities remained small and inadequately equipped. The sessions were brief, and the teachers on the whole unprepared for their work.14 Yet life was not all hardships. When land was being cleared, neighbors gathered for the "log rollings"—getting the felled trees into huge piles for burning. They gathered, too, for "house raisings" whenever a cabin was being erected for a newly married couple. There were quilting bees and shucking bees that brought neighbors together, while everyone went on horseback or afoot to the church services, the camp meetings, and the cemetery cleanings. On all of these occasions the rough, hand-made tables, frequently set up in the shady yard of a church or home, were laden with a cornucopia of home-grown foods. In addition, there were the "play parties," where, if the restraining influence of the local church was not too strong, young and old went through the �230 / Chapter Fourteen '•»'•% '"-K"^ : 4#^ ! S^it/^ljLw*- F;i' . • ' ' < ;5/ " L? w: • ,'~« ' •vjr.'Sr HUGH MORTON PHOTO Many old cabins and farm buildings, like these in the shadow o/Mt. Dunvegan, continued to be in use until well into the twentieth century. rollicking, intricate figures of square dances, guided by the directions chanted by the neighborhood caller and inspired by the neighborhood fiddler. Sometimes the community's recognized singer "histed" a tune, and all joined in on one of the many familiar ballads, ancient English and Scottish folk songs brought to America a generation or more before and eventually taken into the mountain fastnesses. There, in time, they were modified or lengthened by a succession of singers. Weddings and funerals also meant neighborhood gatherings. These became as the years went by not only family affairs, but also community events, for there was much intermarrying among early settlers. There came a time when all families of an entire community might be related in intricate ties of kinship. From the mountain settlements on the border line of accessibility the men went into the villages for the gala muster days of the militia and, after 1840, for political rallies, taking with them their easily salable home-brewed whiskey, thus combining �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 231 THE BARDEN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY A study in contrast (circa 1880's)-—the lowly beast of burden on mountain farms plods along in the shadow of the state's new capitol. business and pleasure. Also for the men and boys there was hunting, and a trusty rifle or shotgun was each man's most prized possession. Undoubtedly the happiest hours of the mountain men were those spent tramping over great stretches of mountain forests, following the tracks or signs of animals and now and then stopping to "set a spell" on some hilltop boulder. There the mountain man could spend the time whittling and letting his gaze travel across the green ridges to the soft blue, peaceful haze of distant ranges. Around the evening firesides tales were told and repeated of the life and death struggles between men and beasts, and honor accrued to the outstanding hunters. Each community had its renowned bear hunter, a man to be respected by his neighbors and to be envied by every growing boy.15 �232 / Chapter Fourteen APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY As circumstances permitted, many settlers enlarged their homes by adding a new section to the early cabin. Here the addition is larger than the original house and a porch has been added. The turnpikes that brought their economic prosperity and broadening influences to those living along them or accessible to them played a definite part in widening the gulf between those settlers and the highlanders, who came to be known as mountaineers. On their trips to town, the hill men looked with distrust at the changing conditions they saw and came to feel that those in the towns and open valleys were getting soft with their new luxuries and "uppity" attitudes. The townspeople and valley farmers, on the other hand, came to consider the dress, speech, and habits of the hill people as old-fashioned, even quaint. As the years passed, the isolation of the mountain communities bred evils. Illiteracy developed, increased, continued, and finally became a virtue, so that in some areas schools were not welcome. When they came, sometimes over protests, attendance at them was poor and spasmodic. Not infrequently teachers were run oft by half grown boys whose only standard of superiority was physical prowess. With life following a routine that tended to become monotonous and with a still on every farm, drinking became customary as it was in all the nation's frontier regions. �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 233 ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE The Oconaluftee Farmstead: In the river valleys farmers prospered and their cultivated acres became farmsteads, with a cluster of needed outbuildings near the house. At the Oconaluftee Farmstead, shown here, original buildings have been assembled from the area. After the strong corn "likker" had gone the rounds or when potent concoctions like *'cherry bounce" had burned its way down the pioneers' throats, there was always the probability of some social event exploding into a scene of violence. Rifles, necessary in the social order of the mountains and ever present and always sure of aim, even when fired by men whose brains were reeling with too much of their own brew, were apt to crack sharply with fatal results. To those living a different type of life, it has been a thing of marvel that the Southern Appalachian mountain men should shoot their friends and relatives. But often there was no one else to shoot since with entire communities made up of relatives of varying degrees of kinship, a man, no matter in what direction he pointed his gun, aimed at a kinsman or neighbor. And tempers were easily aroused when the affairs of every family—even every individual—were the common knowledge of all. No one could so rile a man as his friend or brother or cousin. In the early settlement days protection had of necessity been a personal or intra-community affair, and to a large extent it continued to be so in the remote mountain areas. Thus there grew up a feeling that what happened in an isolated cove was the concern of the settlers alone. To the close relatives of a slain man belonged the revenge for his death, a code which inevitably �234 / Chapter Fourteen N, C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Quaker Meadows: Quaker Meadows in Burke County, the home of Major Joseph McDowell, gave evidence of the growing prosperity of farmers east of the Blue Ridge. It was here that the Overmountain men met on their way to meet Ferguson's forces. developed feuds, some of which might rage for years (even into the second or third generation) and might result in a series of deaths. Inevitably, too, the code gave rise to resentment toward outside law. Entering these regions in attempts to carry out their duties, sheriffs were regarded as intruders and fair marks for the rifles of local hunters. Later, the federal revenue officers were 'Varmints" sneaking into the private affairs of mountain men to �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 235 deprive them of their rights. Many such an officer, entering a cove, made a one way trip. 16 Yet the isolation of the mountain also developed much that was admirable. Thrown upon their resources, the mountain families built up a self-sufficient way of life. Many of the women became expert in collecting and preparing the healing herbs that abounded in the woods and were skilled in caring for the sick and wounded. For example, the entire family gathered ginseng. It is said that it was Andre Michaux on his visit to the Blue Ridge Mountains in 1794 who taught the people living near Grandfather Mountain how to gather and prepare the plentiful ginseng for the Chinese markets. The information spread throughout Western North Carolina, and many a mountain family, both adults and children, gathered "sang," which could be taken to markets in the towns. There it was made ready for shipment. For some areas, "sang" became the principal cash crop, but the slow growth of ginseng discouraged its cultivation. Gathering the wild roots continued to be fairly widespread throughout the mountains until recent years.17 Another of the attributes of self-sufficiency was that hundreds of mountain men became adept at making their simple tools. A few achieved the construction of rifles that met their own rigid standards. Others, with no tools except knives, carved out fiddles that gave forth tones of sweetness and grace, while some unknown artist designed and made the first mountain dulcimer, an instrument that has been copied hundreds of times. This instrument has a body somewhat like a guitar except that it is much narrower and is strung with a varying number of strings, often three. It is held across the player's knees, and the strings are plucked to give the surprisingly tuneful notes that make a perfect background for the ancient ballads of English and Scottish origin. Perhaps the greatest gift of isolation has been the spirit it engendered in the hearts and lives of the mountain men and women. Cut off from the world at large, they cherished the spirit of independence and the love for freedom that had first lured them into the untamed Appalachians to carve out with their own minds and hands a satisfying way of lite. This spirit intensified as the years passed and took on the character of the mountains themselves. The deep, silent language of the hills spoke to the men who tramped over them and built their cabins by the streams that splashed down from the heights. The hills of home imparted to the people something of their �236 / Chapter Fourteen own strength and uprightness, something of their mystic revelation of infinite greatness and goodness and peace. The mountains also instilled something of their own towering poise and quietness, something of their own lofty, wind-swept heights of calm. The dwellers in the uplands, both east and west of the Blue Ridge, sometimes misused the outward strength and inner power gained from their mountains. But when they turned these traits to their proper uses, the mountain people made contributions to their state and nation that were distinct and worthy of their land of majestic peaks and beauty. It was, however, largely from the prosperous valley farming areas, benefiting from the turnpikes and roads both east and west of the Blue Ridge, that the early leaders came. And it was largely from the towns and from these areas that the demands for public schools and for general improvment in economic and living conditions came. It was this area that gave David Lowry Swain to Western North Carolina and to the state. Completing three terms as 'governor, Swain went to the University as president in 1835, followingjoseph Caldwell, who had recently died. During his term as a delegate from Buncombe County in the General Assembly, the young Swain had favored Murphey's program for public education and as governor had recognized the dire need of enlightening the people of the state. His energies were necessarily concentrated, however, on the task of getting a constitutional revision. He felt, too, that because of the poverty of the masses and the remoteness of many sections, a state-wide public school system would not at that time be feasible. Now with the constitutional reform an accomplished fact, he found himself, as president of the state's only authorized educational institution, in charge of a faculty and of a student body made up of ninety boys. That number, he realized, was a pitifully small enrollment for a state having a population of almost 750,000. With characteristic energy and tact, he set about the task of improving educational opportunities for the youth of North Carolina.18 Since the state admitted that a third of its adult population was illiterate, that task had to include a consideration of the general educational conditions throughout its length and breadth. At the beginning of 1836, the outlook for establishing public schools was dismal indeed. The Literary Fund established in 1825 by an act of the General Assembly had scarcely increased since that date and was far too small to allow for financing a state �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 237 system of elementary schools. Additional funds were nowhere in sight. But in that year a happy incident opened the way for taking the first step in Murphey's plans for education of the masses. The federal government had by that time paid its debts and found itself with a large surplus in the treasury as a result of the rapid sale of its western lands. In 1836, therefore, Congress passed the Distribution of the Surplus Act, by which the funds in the federal coffers in excess of $5,000,000 were to be distributed to the states on the basis of each state's representation in Congress. It was hoped that the states would use the money for needed internal improvements and education. North Carolina received as its share $1,433,757.39, and in the state legislature the eastern bloc of Democrats, satisfied as always with the status quo, urged that the sum be applied to the state's debt. Once more they were defeated by the Whigs, including those from Western North Carolina, and except for the sum of $100,000 allocated to meet governmental expenses, the entire amount went into the Literary Fund. To state it more accurately, perhaps, the federal allotment went into investments, the proceeds of which under the 1825 law went into the Literary Fund.19 When the Public School Law was passed in 1839, it set up a system based upon Murphey's plan, although greatly modified in details. Whereas Murphey had advocated tuition for those able to pay and had suggested that only boys continue past the lower grade levels, this bill provided for free schools for all white children, both boys and girls. Under it, each county was to lay off school districts and appoint a school committee for each. Every district was to raise the sum of $20 by taxation, which would be supplemented with $40 from the Literary Fund, the resulting $60 to cover the expenses involved in operating a two or three months' term of school a year. The decision to establish this system was not to be thrust upon the counties, for in a general election voters could cast their ballots for or against the establishment of schools in their county.20 In the remote areas of Western North Carolina, where illiteracy was prevalent and where schools were desperately needed, many of the people were either indifferent to the issue or were opposed to the necessary taxation or to education in general. Yet only one western county, Yancey, which had been created only a few years earlier and had an extremely mountainous terrain, voted "No Schools." At a later date that vote too was reversed.21 �238 / Chapter Fourteen N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Pleasant Gardens: This home in McDowell County was built before the Revolutionary War. The logs of the original house have been covered with clapboards and a porch has been added. The interior oj the house and its jurnishings have kept the character of the early home. In 1840 the state's first public schools opened, and during the next ten years there were 2,657 such schools established. A portion of these were little, one-roomed log buildings in the mountains where for two or three months a year (in some sections, six weeks) the children who attended could learn their letters and whatever else the teacher could crowd into that time and had the knowledge to teach. In the villages and in many of the prosperous farming communities the privately operated and the church-owned schools and academies continued the fine and thorough work that they had performed for decades. And in these regions the public schools attracted only those pupils whose parents could not afford the tuition charged by the older and better equipped schools. In these areas, naturally, the public schools acquired no prestige. Even in sections where there were no other schools, many district schools were given little respect or support. Advocates of the public schools system were openly disappointed in the results obtained and began a careful study with revision in mind.22 �Light and Shade in the Mountains / 239 The lack of popularity and the slow acceptance of the public schools, they found, were due to several defects in the system. Perhaps the chief cause of the slow progress made by the system was the lack of a general directing head. Allied to this shortcoming was the poor teaching carried on by untrained teachers, poorly paid men with no supervision. Joseph Caldwell had recognized teacher training as a basic need in a state system and had urged, unsuccessfully, the establishment of a school for that purpose.23 Swain, trying to increase the enrollment at the University, was also deeply interested in the teaching problems involved in the system. But there were other weaknesses. The school law had been revised in 1841 so that counties were authorized but not required to raise in taxes half the sum allotted from the Literary Fund, and some counties took advantage of that escape clause, thus reducing their school money. Still another fault in the system was the allocation of the Literary Fund, which was based not upon the white population, which it actually served, but upon the total population of a county. The counties lying just east of the Blue Ridge had a small Negro population, but except for Buncombe, those west of that range had practically no Negro population. Thus the schools in Western North Carolina received less money than was their just due, often too small a sum to accomplish anything like satisfactory results. Perhaps the best that can be said for those first mountain schools is that they helped to get people used to the idea of schools and that in them a few children learned their A.B.C.'s.24 One of the most vigorous advocates of the public school system was Calvin Henderson Wiley, a University graduate and a young lawyer. He went to the General Assembly with a determination to further education in North Carolina. To do so, Wiley became an authority on conditions throughout the state and succeeded in getting a bill through the General Assembly for the appointment of a state superintendent of public instruction. Under the law, this official was to plan a course of study, set up teaching requirements, assist and advise the local school committees, select proper texts, and keep the public informed on the schools' progress and their needs. Wiley was appointed to that position and became North Carolina's first Superintendent of Public Instruction in 1852.25 He faced a task of staggering proportions, but strong in his knowledge of conditions and armed with the courage of his �240 / Chapter Fourteen dreams for the state, he went to work. He set up a system of licensing teachers through examinations and established Teachers' Associations and Library Associations to inform, encourage, and make professional those teaching in the public schools. The new Superintendent selected, even wrote, suitable text books, and gradually brought unity and order out of the chaos. In time the Educational Associationof North Carolina was organized and began its official publication, the North Carolina Common School Journal later to become the North Carolina Journal of Education. As he worked, Calvin Wiley gained friends for the public schools.26 As the years passed, his labors brought visible results. In the towns and villages of Western North Carolina and in the prosperous rural sections, the public schools steadily grew in prestige. Better buildings were erected and more able teachers hired. At last these schools rivaled and then surpassed the private schools in enrollment and took their respected places in the life of the communities.27 But in the remote areas the schools' progress was not that rapid. In time the mountain people came to realize that the schools had come to stay, and opposition to them died down. But the buildings remained small and inadequately equipped, and the pittance paid to the teachers— in some counties as little as $16 a month—attracted men who perhaps had failed at other undertakings and had managed by hook or crook to pass the required examination and to obtain a license.28 It was to be another decade followed by a war with its devastating aftermath before the dream of education envisioned by Murphey, Wiley, Caldwell, and Swain would become a reality in Western North Carolina. Yet a light had been kindled, a light that would one day dispel the darkness of illiteracy and give added beauty to life in the land of mountains. �C H A P T E R F I F T E E N The Crack of Doom in the Mountains In a weirdly Satanic mood, Fate took a lump of gold picked up in 1815 by a little Cherokee boy in northern Georgia and in the boiling caldron of the white man's hatred and greed, spun it into lightning that cracked over the child's nation with the unmistakable warning of swift doom. With DeSoto's flamboyant appearance in the mountains in 1540, a cloud of destruction arose on the horizon of the Indian nation. But the Cherokees became a strong people, and the cloud was no bigger than a man's hand. It was all but forgotten as a century and a half passed into the days that are gone. Then came the English and the French, and there were times when the cloud grew and darkened. But the Cherokees always retreated and ceded land, treaty by treaty, until their vast hunting grounds were no more and their homelands had shrunk into the westernmost section of North Carolina beyond the MeigsFreeman line, spilling over into the mountains of Tennessee and Georgia.1 In 1815 there was nothing more to give up except the fields of grain and the orchards and*the gardens, except the yards and the cabins. Now the white man demanded even these. 241 �242 / Chapter Fifteen In the fifty years following the coming of white settlers into the region west of the Blue Ridge, the Cherokee nation developed with phenomenal strides. The raids on the first isolated settlements were soon over, partly because of the effective system of sentries and the strength of the local militia units, but partly because of the restraining influence of Cherokee leaders. When the second war with England seemed inevitable, the great Shawnee chief, Tecumseh, one day appeared in the council of the Cherokees. To the gravely listening chiefs and braves he spoke of his plan for a concerted Indian uprising against the Americans, soon to be weakened through their war with the English. All of the tribes and nations east of the Mississippi River were being asked to join in a widespread federation to make a last struggle against the constant encroachment of the Americans, an encroachment that would eventually mean destruction for all native Americans. The Cherokees heard him through, and restive young braves nodded approval of his plea. But the leaders spoke through the answer that Chief Junaluska gave. That answer was "No." War against the whites had been tried by their fathers, and it had always brought loss of life and of land. It would again. The Cherokees must be content with the twelve thousand square miles left them. They were now unused to war. They must live in peace with their American neighbors. They must stay out of the white man's wars.2 ^ The Creeks gave another answer, and in 1813 they went on the warpath, massacring some five hundred men, women, and children at Fort Mims. Then it was that a group of Cherokee volunteers led by Junaluska joined the forces of General Andrew Jackson against their century-old enemies. It was the Cherokee warriors at Horse Shoe Bend on March 27, 1814, who turned a probable defeat into victory for the Americans. On a punitive campaign against the Creeks in January, Jackson had been forced to retreat when his camp was attacked by warring Indians led by the brilliant Billy Weatherford. He had withdrawn to Fort Strother. By March his inadequate forces had been strengthened by the addition of troops from Tennessee and by six hundred Indians, some of them Cherokees from the Lower Towns, some of them Junaluska's volunteers from Western North Carolina, and a small number of them friendly Creeks. �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 243 Learning that Weather ford's army was assembled at the bend in the Tallapoosa River, Jackson returned with a force of two thousand men to find the Creeks intrenched behind breastworks on an island in the river with their women and children on the nearby fortified peninsula. Jackson divided his forces. Sending General John Coffee with seven hundred Tennessee men and the Indians, under the command of Colonel Gideon Morgan, three miles down the stream with instructions to cross the ford there, the General gave orders to take a position opposite the rear of the fortifications. They were to prevent the Creeks from escaping while he led his main force in a frontal attack. With the Creeks doubly protected by the stockade and the river, the Americans gained no headway in the day's fighting. During this impasse Junaluska and another Cherokee, braving possible fire from the guns of their own side, swam across the river and, tying together the canoes that the Creeks had in waiting for escape in case of need, brought them back. Swarming into the light boats, the soldiers, both Indians and Americans, crossed the stream and reached the stronghold for hand-to-hand fighting, while Jackson's army stormed the opposite side. The result was the annihilation of the Creeks. Two weeks later, Billy Weatherford surrendered, and the Creek War was over. The battle of Horse Shoe Bend has been considered the greatest of all Indian battles in the long history of the westward moving American frontier. It prevented further Indian uprisings against the Americans in the southeast and forced the removal of several Indian nations to western territory. This battle also paved the way for the formation of two new states—Alabama and Mississippi.3 It was before this battle that Junaluska saved General Jackson from the poised weapon of an attacking Creek. So in 1815 the Cherokees were living peaceably with their American neighbors. The native Americans were learning something of the white man's government and in 1820 reorganized their nation, following a pattern similar to the government of the United States. They divided their country into eight districts and drew up a constitution modeled after that of the white man's nation. New Echota in Georgia, named in memory of their ancient sacred town, was their capital and there the legislative body met. The Cherokee assembly was made up of two houses, to which four �244 / Chapter Fifteen representatives from each district were elected by popular vote. At the head of the nation was the president of the council, who was also elected. John Ross was first chosen for this high office.4 The Cherokee people had a group of able leaders. A few of these were revered chiefs, conscientiously guiding their people with the paternal love and solicitude felt by their ancient predecessors. They had the wisdom handed down by generations of wise men and possessed the knowledge gained by their own long years of living. Perhaps most honored in this group was Yonaguska, who lamented that his people had adopted so many of the white man's evils. One of these evils he had been able to combat. During an illness, when his people grieved that he must soon leave them, he spoke to them of the sin of drinking. He said that he must come back from the very grave to save them from the curse placed upon them by the white man's whiskey. Slowly he recovered, and more than a thousand of his people took a solemn oath of temperance. Those who broke their pledges—and they were few—were whip-lashed as a public disgrace. Yonaguska, also known as Drowning Bear, governed his people like a father. Through his wisdom and understanding and with his gift of oratory, he exerted a telling influence upon the nation and won the deep respect of the Americans. In the unhappy days during which exile faced his people, he was known as a "peace chief." Yet when removal came, he refused to go west. Going to a new land was useless, he maintained, for it would be merely a matter of time until the white man's greed would demand these western lands, too. Along with many others, he fled into the Smokies. After the withdrawal of federal troops, he led the remnants of the Cherokee nation back to the acres that were no longer theirs. Now more than three score and ten years of age and enfeebled by the privations and exposure endured as a fugitive, he was not equal to the task of leading the destitute Cherokees. At his suggestion, William Holland Thomas was asked to assume that responsibility. With the leadership of his people thus provided for, Yonaguska was ready to depart. In 1839, at the age of seventyfive, this man, one of the great Cherokee chiefs, closed his eyes in his last sleep.5 Younger than Yonaguska was Junaluska, whose parents had called him Gul-nu-la-hun-ski, "One who tried but failed." The name was bestowed when he admitted failing to fulfill his earlier �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 245 boast to destroy all Creeks. This title the white man corrupted into Junaluska. He was a brilliant strategist and in 1811 was strong in the strength of mid-manhood and clear in his thinking. He was not content to remember the past glories of the Cherokee nation. Sanely and sensibly he looked at the present and did what he could to build the future security of his people. He counseled against the alliance with Tecumseh and the English, and for this gesture of friendship with the Americans the Cherokees won a promise of aid in case of Creek attack against their nation. The attack came, instead, against the Americans, and true to the pact he had made, Junaluska led a band of perhaps a hundred men from the mountains to join General Jackson's forces. After Horse Shoe Bend, Jackson extended to Junaluska and his volunteers the gratitude of the American people. Personal gratitude was given to Junaluska for the Cherokee's quick action in averting a death blow meant for the American General. Junaluska returned to his home, carrying in his heart a deep friendship for Andrew Jackson and sure that, if wisely led, his people in the future could live in peace and harmony with the Americans. He did not realize what a lump of gold could do.6 Of their able leaders, John Ross was chosen to head the reorganized government of the Cherokees. He was well fitted for the position. The son of a Scottish father and a Cherokee mother, he was one of the few men of his nation to receive a formal education. His selection for their highest office proved the confidence his people placed in him and the respect they awarded him. So did the name they gave him—Guwisguwi—the name they had bestowed upon a rare bird reputedly seen only once in their land. Both their confidence and respect were well placed. In the crushing and chaotic days ahead he was to exert all of his energies and all of his personal fortune in the struggle to avert the oncoming catastrophe. Perhaps no other Cherokee was so well equipped to present the cause of the Indian nation to Congressional leaders in Washington. There, however, by a narrow margin, he failed. In spite of the fact that he was able to win the support of a few outstanding men, he could not stem the avalanche of destruction already crashing down on a helpless people.7 The greatest of all Cherokee leaders never attained the title of chief. He was a shy, retiring man, given to thinking. He had no ambition to sway his people in the council and no desire for power; yet deep within him was a driving urge that would not let him rest. It was an urge not understood by neighbors and family, �246 / Chapter Fifteen an urge that set him apart. Possibily he himself did not understand this strange thing that was in him. On an unknown date shortly before the time that the Cherokees became involved in the American Revolutionary War, this man had been born in the Over Hills country not far from the ruins of old Fort Loudon. His mother was a Cherokee named Wut-tah, a sister of the influential chief Old Tassel of the Over Hill Towns. His father was Nathaniel Gist, a white man who was in Western North Carolina only temporarily and whose name was his only gift to the Cherokee boy whom he never saw but whom, years later from his home in Tennessee, he acknowledged as his son. The mother called her baby Sequoyah, a name with no descriptive meaning. As the boy grew to manhood, he became adept at handwork and without training began drawing and then fashioning metals into tools and jewelry. After watching white men at their forges, he made his own forge and set up a blacksmith shop where he worked iron into the tools his neighbors needed. He also loved to make silver into a variety of trinkets. But he longed for something he did not have, something his people did not have. He learned that, by making symbols on a piece of bark or paper, white men could know each other's thoughts. In curiosity, he asked his friend, Charles Hicks, who had attended one of the mission schools, to write the name Gist. Hicks, probably following Sequoyah's pronunciation, wrote the name Guess. Sequoyah made a die of the queer marks and with it stamped each piece of his silver. He knew then the meaning of the urge that was within him, and he set about devising a set of symbols that would give the Cherokees this power of silent speaking when absent, the power that the white man possessed. For years Sequoyah worked, moving into a small house alone and ignoring the ridicule and scorn of his neighbors. In time he was swamped with the characters he had designed, and he knew that unless he could reduce their number, he would fail. He put aside what he had done and started his self-appointed task anew, using a different approach. Now instead of trying to make a symbol for each word, he reduced the Cherokee language to its elemental sound units—syllables, the white man would call them. He found there were eighty-six such units. He then set about devising a symbol for each one of them. In this endeavor he was aided when, quite by chance, he came by a piece of American printing. The Roman type letters, he saw, �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 247 were far simpler to form than many of his own and, without knowing the sound that each English letter represented, he borrowed what he needed. The result was a queer looking but easily learned set of syllable symbols covering every Cherokee sound out of which words were made. By 1821 he had completed this supreme task of his life. He had in his hands the means by which his people could become literate. At the time, no one was interested—not his family, not his neighbors, not the missionaries, not even the Superintendent of Indian Affairs. Sequoyah turned to any who would listen, teaching little groups of children and young people. Quickly they learned and proved to the skeptics the marvel of this thing that the inventor, untutored and unaided, had brought to pass.8 In less than a year Cherokees were a literate people. The Council voted to establish a newspaper and through the recommendations of the Reverend S.A. Worchester, President of the Brainard Mission School, his Mission Board in Boston had the type of the new symbols cast in that city. The type, together with a press, was shipped by water to Augusta, Georgia, and from there by wagon to New Echota. Two white printers worked with a Cherokee apprentice to put out the first issue of the Cherokee Phoenix, which appeared on February 21, 1828. The editor was Elias Boudinot, an educated Cherokee. During the struggle over the removal to a western reservation, the paper was forced to suspend operations, but was later continued at Tahlequah, Oklahoma, under the name of the Cherokee Advocate. For some years it was printed in both Cherokee and in English and was distributed free to all Cherokees who could not read English.9 Four years before the arrival of the press at New Echota, John Arch had translated a portion of the Gospel of St. John and had circulated the handwritten copies. It was the first Bible translation ever made in a written native American language. David Brown, a half-Cherokee preacher, later translated the New Testament into Cherokee. In the first four and a half years of its operation, the press printed some 14,600 copies of the Testament, hymns, and religious tracts. Practically every Cherokee could read them.10 In grateful recognition of his gift to them the Cherokees, through their Council, presented Sequoyah with a silver medal, and the Nation gave him a life pension. News of what he had done reached Washington where the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the Government of the United States presented him with a gift of �248 / Chapter Fifteen FROM McKENNEY AND HALL'S COPY OF THE ORIGINAL PAINTING OF 1828, THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Sequoyah: Unlettered and untutored, Sequoyah spent long, lonely years perfecting a system by which his people might "speak when absent.'' With his syllabary the Cherokees became a literate nation within a year. money. In 1917 the state of Oklahoma presented a statue of him to * be placed in the Hall of Statuary in the nation's capitol. But the most fitting tribute to this man, who, in the short span of twelve years, bridged the gap of thousands of years and lifted himself and his nation into the sphere of literate peoples, came when his name was given in honor to the giant trees of California. They too, lift their heads above the lowland up into the clear, pure realm of light and sunshine. Sequoyah went with the Cherokees on the long trek to their new home. From there, when he was an old man, he set out in search of the "lost Cherokee tribe," said to have gone into Mexico. He was not equal to the arduous journey, and he sickened and died. There by the Rio Grande, the boundary of the land he �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 249 sought, he was buried, this greatest of all Cherokees and one of the most remarkable of all men.11 The Cherokee nation during the decade of the 1820's developed a stable government. The people were reasonably prosperous on their little farms, raising their grain crops, fruits, and vegetables, and tending to their cattle. The clack of the loom sounded from every cabin. Many of them were accepting, or at least listening to, the white man's religious teaching. Early in the century the Moravians had established missions in their territory, followed by the Baptists, who, in 1820, had four missions in Western North Carolina. The most influential mission school, however, was the Brainard School in Tennessee. It was established by the American Foreign Mission Board in Boston, with the Reverend S. A. Worchester as its president. The federal government aided this school in its industrial education program; it was perhaps the first school in the nation to carry on such work. During this decade, too, the Cherokee nation became a reading and writing nation, reaching a rate of literacy that shamed the white section of Western North Carolina. The Cherokees were also far more temperate and law-abiding than their neighbors.12 But unfortunately, gold had been discovered on their land. That fact the white men could not tolerate. The idea spread that the Cherokees must leave. There was Indian land beyond the Mississippi River. Let them go there. In 1817, cajoled by the whites, a few chiefs signed a treaty ceding their territory and agreeing to a removal to the west. This settlement was at once repudiated by the Council, and sixty-seven chiefs signed a memorial of protest, pointing out that the signers of the treaty had no authority to represent their government. This document was sent to Washington, and John Ross began a series of trips to the national capital to present the case of his people. Such Congressional leaders as Daniel Webster, Edward Everett, and Henry Clay championed the rights of the native Americans. The unauthorized treaty hung fire; yet the Cherokees felt that it would not come up again.13 Agitation for removal continued in Georgia, and in 1819, hoping to appease the whites, the Cherokees by treaty sold their land along the Tuckaseigee River, thus ceding all land north and east of the Little Tennessee River and east of the Nantahala Mountains. It was a big price to pay, and for the Indians it availed little.14 Georgia became vociferous in its demands for removal, and the ensuing ten-year period was a time of growing confusion �250 / Chapter Fifteen and bitter feelings. The possibility of expulsion from their homeland hung over the Cherokees like a Damocles sword. Georgia then began a series of petty indignities that developed into persecution. The Indian leaders kept their people in check only with the hope that the government at Washington would protect their national rights. John Ross continued making trips to confer with congressmen and justices. This explosive state of affairs flamed into warlike activities when in 1828 new gold discoveries were made on the Georgia holdings of the Cherokees. That state, snatching at any angle that would present a legal facet, grimly and determinedly set about getting possession of the Indian land. No quarter was to be extended to the Cherokees. Seizing upon the convenient political theory that no nation could exist within the confines of the American government, the General Assembly of Georgia declared that the Cherokee nation did not exist. Hence the Cherokee laws were also non-existent. By another act, it declared that the Cherokees living within its boundaries were incapable of owning land. Thus the state acquired the power of removing unwanted Cherokee occupants, who were given until June 1, 1830, to leave the state.15 Remembering the service rendered to General Jackson at Horseshoe Bend and recalling his declaration of friendship of the Cherokees, their leaders still had high hopes of saving their nation. Junaluska tried to quiet the fears of his people with the conviction that Jackson, now entering the White House as President of the United States, would champion their righteous cause. The confusion that existed before now swelled into a state of pandemonium. Georgia sent state surveyors into the Cherokee territory to mark off the land into "land lots" of 160 acres each and "gold lots" of 40 acres each. These were offered by lottery to the white residents of the state and to the inrushing hordes of goldhungry speculators. At the same time the Cherokees were forbidden to hold meetings of the Council, in fact, to hold any meetings. Friend and industrial advisor of the Cherokees, the Reverend Worchester, was imprisoned; and at one time John Ross and his guest, John Howard Payne, were held prisoners in the home of Joseph Vann, a well-to-do Cherokee. The Cherokee Phoenix was forced to suspend operation.16 ° Protests against Georgia's treatment of the Cherokees as criminals were sent to the federal government, and in 1831 the Indian nation appealed to the Supreme Court of the United States �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 251 for an injunction against the state of Georgia. They also appealed to that court concerning the seizure of a Cherokee charged with murdering a fellow tribe member, a case, the Cherokees felt, that was within the jurisdiction of their own courts. John Marshall's decision that the Cherokees had the right to their land until an authorized and voluntary treaty with the federal government compelled them to relinquish it brought some hope to the Indian nation. But Georgia openly defied the decision, and President Jackson, besieged by appeals from that state, uttered the crisp rejoiner that rang through the Cherokee nation like a death knell. "John Marshall has made his decision," said Jackson, "now let him enforce it. "17 The faith in General Jackson, to which Junaluska had clung, crumbled, and a hopeless spirit of fatality gripped the aging warrior. Two factions now divided the Cherokees. One, led by the brilliant young John Ridge, who had been educated in the white man's schools and who had a white wife, argued that compromise with the Americans was no longer possible. His followers felt that the only practical course open to the Indians was to conclude a treaty with the federal government on as favorable terms as could be arranged and to move to the western lands. On March 14,1835, this faction agreed to a treaty drawn up by the Reverend J.F. Schermerhorn, commissioner for the government. Under its terms the Cherokees were to receive $3,250,000—a sum later raised to $4,500,000—for their eastern lands, and they were to move west. This treaty was not to be in effect, however, until it was approved by the Indian nation meeting in full council. In October the Council met and overwhelmingly rejected the treaty. In desperation the federal government called for a meeting of all Cherokees at New Echota for the purpose of drawing up a new treaty. John Ross, who opposed any removal plan, was held prisoner in Georgia until after this meeting. Other leaders were also absent. Out of the total Cherokee population, only some three hundred men, women, and children gathered at New Echota. Although this small group was in no way respresentative of the nation, a committee was appointed and another treaty worked out by which the Cherokees agreed to cede all their eastern domain in return for government land in Indian Territory and which offered a sum amounting to about fifty cents an acre for their homeland. This forced treaty was ratified in the Senate on May 23,1836, and a Removal Bill arranged for evacuation by May 26, 1838.18 The frantic appeals of John Ross were fruitless. Near the end of the allotted time, however, only some four thousand Cherokees �252 / Chapter Fifteen ; WOOLAROC MUSEUM, BARTLESVILLE, OKLA. The Great Migration: Because gold had been discovered on their land, the Cherokees, now a literate people living under a written constitutional government, went from the land of their fathers in what has been called "The Great Migration," On their way to Indian Territory many died from exposure and exhaustion. had gone west, leaving approximately seventeen thousand still on the eastern domain. The government, impatient with this lack of response to orders, sent General John E. Wool with an army into the area to implement the removal. Upon learning that the Cherokees were being removed against their will and after seeing conditions at the fort "at the mouth of the Valley River," General Wool asked to be relieved of the assignment. He was replaced by General Winfield Scott, who was given an army of seven thousand regulars whose orders were to complete the evacuation as rapidly as possible, although Martin Van Buren, now President, agreed to extend the time beyond the designated date.19 What followed is stark tragedy, a total eclipse of all the principles of freedom for which the new Republic had been formed. Stockades were erected in various parts of the Cherokee country (North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama), and into them the soldiers herded the men, women, and children taken without warning from their fields and homes. In June, 5,000 of the people, traveling in bands of 800 to 1,000, said a tearful goodbye to the land of their ancestors and started west, going by water as much of the way as possible. They were removed on governmentprovided steamers down the Tennessee River to the Ohio River �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 253 THE TRAIL OF TEARS milfoil _/• ATHENfc cHiioiiC; .A10UMA ALABAMA "| FROM THE 19TH ANNUAL REPORT OF THE BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY The Trail of Tears: The second group to leave the Cherokee land numbered more than 12,000 and traveled in groups of 1,000. They began their journey in October, 1838, and reached their new home in March, 1839. An estimated 4,000 died on the way. and then to the Mississippi, eventually crossing Arkansas into designated Indian Territory. It was a hot, dry summer and the wanderers suffered greatly. In the intense heat of a western August they reached their destination. Word sifted back to the mountains that many had died enroute. It was reported that in one group of 875, some 350 had died and had been buried along the way. John Ross then requested that the remaining twelve thousand of his people be allowed to go in the autumn and asked that they have charge of their own removal. His request was granted. In October the heartsick people, in groups of a thousand each, set out by an overland route for the remote land they had never seen. Government-furnished wagons held household goods and tools and carried the children, the aged, and the sick. The few who owned horses, rode, but most of the men and women, each with a bundle on back or in hands, trudged every step of the thousand miles on foot. Starting from the north bank of the Hiwassee River, their course led through Nashville, Tennessee, where they got government supplies, and then headed northwestward through a forested area of abundant game to the Ohio River. They crossed it by ferry near the mouth of the Cumberland. The exiled people then crossed southern Illinois, fording the Mississippi River at Cape Girardeau, and passed across southern Missouri into Indian Territory. The journey which had begun on October 4 ended in March. Six months of daily plodding through the rains, sleets, and snows of an exceptionally dreary and cold winter had proved disastrous to a third of their number. About �254 / Chapter Fifteen four thousand died along the "Trail of Tears."20 So powerful was a lump of gold! The best known tragic episode in this macabre drama took place, however, back in the mountains. A Cherokee farmer with no understanding of the causes behind this historic event or of its future significance was its hero. He was a little-known man in his sixties named Tsali and called by the whites "Old Charley." Through his death, a thousand Cherokees hiding in the fastnesses of the Smoky Mountains received government permission to remain in the hills and thus eventually to build for themselves a new nation—the Eastern Band of the Cherokees. During the gathering of the people at the departure forts, scattered individuals, families, and groups of neighbors escaped into the mountains, seeking whatever shelter the towering Smokies afforded and existing on the scanty food supplied by the autumn forests. Among these refugees was Tsali, and with him were his wife, his grown son Ridges, a second son (still a child), and his brother-in-law Lowney. Over the years, as the story of his death was told and retold around the nation's camp fires, the man Tsali was clothed with heroism. His death was regarded as a sacrifice, the voluntary assumption of the role of scapegoat for the salvation of a thousand of his people. According to the traditional story, two soldiers came to Tsali's cabin home to take him and his family to the fort. Along a steep stretch of the path one of the Americans prodded the lagging Indian woman. Tsali, controlling his wrath at this indignity to his wife, spoke in Cherokee to his son and Lowney. At the first turn in the path, he said, he would fall, pretending injury to his ankle. Then the soldiers would halt momentarily, giving the Indian men an opportunity to leap at them and sieze their guns. The Cherokees would then flee into the nearby hills. The plan almost worked, but one soldier rushed to the fallen Tsali while the other was being overpowered by Ridges and Lowney. From the ground, Tsali tripped the man bending over him, and in his fall the soldier's gun went off, killing him instantly. Sadly picking up the dead man's gun, Tsali led his family up into the mountains.21 The sequel came after the autumn departure of the Cherokees. General Scott's troops attempted to round up all fugitives hiding in the mountains. They were unsuccessful, for these hills had been the hunting grounds for generations of Cherokees. The refugees were familiar with hiding places that no strange white men could locate. Nor was it possible to starve them out of their hidden �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 255 recesses, for the Indians knew how to exist on the nuts and roots and plants they found in the forests. It began to look as though this final phase of the removal would drag on indefinitely. With his men eager to be finished with this unpleasant task, General Scott sought some way to bring it to an ''honorable" close. He found it. If he could capture Tsali and publicly avenge the death of an American soldier, he would forget the others. According to tradition it was William Holland Thomas who took Scott's message to Tsali and brought back to the American officer Tsali's reply, "I will come in." True to his promise, the Cherokee farmer, unaware of the heroism of his sacrifice, stood unblindfolded with Ridges and Lowney, while at his request his own people fired the shots that made them martyrs. His younger son, because of his youth, was allowed to live.22 This is the traditional story of Tsali, familiar to every Cherokee and to thousands of white Americans who have seen it come to life in the Mountainside Theater at Cherokee Village. The reports of the officers rounding up the Cherokees, however, present a somewhat different version of the episode. In an attempt to gather in the fugitives, General Scott assigned Colonel William S. Foster and his Fourth Infantry to the upper Oconaluftee River valley and the Smoky Mountains. In October Colonel Foster, detaching units of his men to various sections of his territory, sent Second Lieutenant A. J. Smith and three soldiers through the upper Oconaluftee valley district. These men, finding no Cherokees, started for Fort Scott. On their way they surprised a camp of fugitives near the Little Tennessee River. Tsali and his family were reportedly among the dozen men, women, and children taken into custody by the soldiers. In a report to his superior officer, Lieutenant Smith told of the ensuing tragedy. He was aware, he said, of the spirit of resentment seething through the captive group and, fearing trouble, ordered his men to seize a long knife that one of the Indians had. The officer later gave a similar order when he discovered that one of the refugees had an axe. This second order came too late, for, apparently at a signal, the men in the group attacked the soldiers, killing two and wounding the third. Lieutenant Smith owed his own escape to the dexterity of his horse. This act, the only instance of bloodshed during the removal of the Cherokees from Western North Carolina, called for drastic and immediate retaliation. The members of the Indian band were identified by �256 / Chapter Fifteen William H. Thomas, James Welch, a settler, and Lieutenant Smith. General Scott sent Captain C. H. Larned after Tsali, considered the leader of the outlaw group.23 It was at this juncture that General Scott, evidently wishing to avoid a search of undetermined length and hoping to enlist the aid of other refugees, issued an order of immunity to all hiding in the hills, provided that Tsali and his men were captured and turned over to the army. After a two weeks search the men were brought in by two of their own people, Wecheecha and Euchella, and were taken to Fort Lindsey, which had been erected at the junction of the Nantahala with the Little Tennessee River. According to Lieutenant Smith's report, Wacheecha and Euchella had asked permission to capture Tsali and to mete out his punishment in order to expiate the disgrace that the murdering of two white men had brought to their nation. In carrying out Tsali's execution the deaths of the two American soldiers had been avenged. And what was of supreme importance to the hundreds of Cherokees still hiding in mountain caves, the terms of the conditions upon which their immunity from punishment depended had been met. General Scott and his army, considering their removal assignment completed, withdrew from the mountains of Western North Carolina.24 Then from their hiding places came the pitiful remnant of a once proud and populous nation. They now owned not an inch of ground in the land that had once been theirs. They had neither money nor personal possessions. Their great chief Yonaguska was old and now ill from the months of privations in the mountains. They were bewildered and without confidence in their own power or in the justice of the federal government. In their extremity they turned to the one man they could trust. They turned to a trader named William Holland Thomas.25 They could not have done better. Born in 1805 near what was to be Waynesville, William Thomas grew up on the frontier and in the Cherokee country. Since his father had died before the boy's birth, young Thomas assumed a man's work at an early age. Already at age twelve he had gained the confidence of business men and was manager of an Indian trading post at Qualla. He was hired by Felix Walker, a farmer, trader, land speculator, and representative to Congress, who in 1808 had come from Rutherford County to the newly organized Haywood County. In his work Thomas came to know and to admire the Cherokees, and �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 257 THE BARDEN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY William Holland Thomas: Thomas, who was reared in the mountains, became the white chief of the little band of destitute people left in the hills. Through his efforts these native Americans became the Eastern Band of Cherokees. they grew to love and trust him. They approved when Yonaguska adopted the white boy as his own son, and they accepted him as a member of their nation. Before he was fourteen, young Thomas found himself, through the gift of the now financially hardpressed Walker, the owner of a trading post with its meager stock and of a set of law books. He was now not only the manager of the post, but also its owner. William Thomas was educated in Cherokee through Sequoyah's syllabary, and he had studied the law books until he was familiar with American law. Politics already interested him. He had prospered in business and had been justified in the establishment of five trading posts. At maturity he lived on a farm on the Tuckaseigee River near the ancient Indian town of Stekoa, �258 / Chapter Fifteen destroyed in 1776 by Moore. What was more important, as events proved, was that he could feel, think, and speak like a Cherokee. It was logical, then, that when the aged Yonaguska died, Thomas should be chosen chief of these eastern Cherokees. It is hard to visualize the fate of these men, women, and children—a thousand of them—had William H. Thomas refused the responsibility of becoming a later-day Moses for a persecuted people. The first step taken before he became chief was to go to Washington in behalf of his people, pleading for aid for them and asking for their share of the $5,000,000 that the federal government had agreed under treaty to pay the Cherokees for their eastern land. It was a slow, strenuous task, this wresting from an unwilling government even a token of justice for a forlorn group of defenseless people. It was only after years of effort and after the expenditure of much of his own financial resources that Thomas succeeded in his aims. He was eventually appointed the Federal Agent for these eastern Cherokees and as such could hold in trust the money turned over to him for the Indians under the Removal Treaty of 1836. Consistent with the theory adopted as a basis for their expulsion, the Cherokees were not granted the right of citizenship by either North Carolina or by the United States, and they could hold no land. Both as the government's representative to the Cherokees and as the Cherokee spokesman to the government, Thomas purchased with the Indians* money paid to him a tract of some 57,000 acres around the present village of Cherokee in addition to a smaller tract known as the Snowbird Reservation near the present Robbinsville. This land he held in trust for his people until they could become citizens and have the right to own it individually. Once more there was land in the mountains of Western North Carolina that the Cherokees could call home. Under Thomas' guidance, the Cherokees divided the area into five communities called Bird Town, Paint Town, Wolf Town, Yellow Hill and Big Cove. Thomas helped them devise a form of government, and this eastern segment of the Cherokees began the slow process of rebuilding a nation.26 In time, a few of those who had gone west came back and were allowed to remain. Among them was Junaluska, old and homesick. Somewhat tardily, North Carolina manifested its gratitude to him by conferring citizenship upon him and by giving him land on which to live out his life. On November 20, 1859, in his little cabin near the present Robbinsville, he died.27 He had lived, some have thought, more �The Crack of Doom in the Mountains / 259 1 - THE BARDEN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Junaluska: Tired, footsore, and disillusioned, Junaluska, the great Cherokee warrior and leader, returned from Indian Territory to the mountains he loved. �THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. 7^e Grave of Junaluska and His Wife Nicie: In recognition of his having saved the life of Andrew Jackson at the Battle of Horse Shoe Bend, Junaluska received citizenship and was allowed to return from Indian Territory. He was given a farm on the Snowbird Boundary reserves of the Cherokees. There he died on November 20, 1859. than a hundred years. He had seen his people rise to their brief period of greatness and then fall before the greed of the white man. He had been a great warrior and a revered counselor of his nation. He had been a wanderer and a refugee. But he had come back to the land of his birth and the hills he loved, and he died as he wished, in the mountains of his ancestors. �C H A P T E R S I X T E E N More Government for Western North Carolina /\fter the formation of Haywood County from the "State of Buncombe" in 1808, the two counties furnished local government for an extensive area west of the Blue Ridge for twenty years. Rutherford, Burke, Wilkes, and Ashe Counties continued to serve both their more settled sections east of the Blue Ridge and their mountain lands west of that range. For the mountain regions especially, it was a period of settling and of evolving a mountain way of life. It was a time for developing the river valleys into comparatively large farms and a time of organizing self-sufficient communities in many rich but mountain-rimmed geographic pockets. In time, however, several factors combined to raise the familiar clamor for the creation of new counties out of portions of these far-flung older ones. Perhaps the basic factor was what might be considered the normal influx of settlers. The general restlessness giving rise to a westward trend of migration that characterized the national life style also affected Western North Carolina, bringing people seeking new homes in western areas. Some of these westward moving people passed along the mountain highways into Tennessee or on to more distant territories. But many of them stayed to take up land in Western North Carolina. After the 261 �262 / Chapter Sixteen APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Settlers going into the remote sections of newly formed counties often encountered rushing mountain streams and virgin forests. completion of the Buncombe Turnpike in 1827, a second factor entered the picture. The prosperity that the road brought to the mountain region increased the number of incoming, mountainminded travelers. Because of this new, easy access to the hillcountry, men could now bring their families and household goods in wagons over the finest road in the state of North Carolina. For some thirty years the Turnpike rumbled with heavily laden wagons, some of which used the road as a passageway out of the state, but a far greater number of which came to rest in mountain coves and along mountain streams. Thus, during the 1830's half of the counties of the state declined in population, but the population of Western North Carolina increased.1 Still another factor in the demand for new counties was the opening of Cherokee lands. The Meigs-Freeman line of demarcation between the races was no longer in effect after 1819. The reduction of the size of the Cherokee nation allowed North Carolina to open such "cleared" acres for settlement.2 In 1819 the Cherokees, in a desperate attempt at appeasement, �More Government for Western North Carolina / 263 sold the federal government all their homeland north and east of the Little Tennessee River together with the rich Tuckaseigee and Oconaluftee River area, as well as a more southerly strip extending to the Nantahala Mountains. The area was then opened for white settlement. White settlers rushed hastily into every part of the opened territory, taking out grants and building homes. Their successors settled near them or bought lands still left in the older sections. In once remote parts of Hay wood County the population became sufficient to justify the machinery of a new government. Buncombe County also had areas in both its northern and its southern districts that were fully ready for their own local government. The reasons advanced in the petitions for the formation of new counties were the familiar ones of distance from the county seats together with poor road conditions. Farmers in the valley of the South Toe River had to travel a distance of about forty miles to reach their county seat of Asheville. At certain seasons of the year, the roads, scarcely more than trails, were impassable. Even at best they were wretchedly poor, the "pooriest, rockiest roads in the country," according to one traveler.3 It took a man on horseback two days to make the trip and the farmers living in the valley of the North Toe River had a similar distance to go to reach Morganton, their county seat. They had to descend and, on the return trip climb, the forbidding Blue Ridge Mountains. Not only did this waste precious work time, but also the slowness of travel could well impede the process of justice. The first western petition acted upon favorably by the General Assembly after the formation of Haywood County came from the citizens recently flocking into the lands opened for settlement in the western portion of that county. Many settlers had purchased land tracts in the area in September, 1820, when a general auction sale of Cherokee lands had been held in Waynesville, the county seat. The number of residents increased steadily. In fact, so populous did the region become that after 1824 it was necessary for Haywood County to keep a deputy sheriff in the area as the county's officer of law enforcement.4 The new county was named Macon, in honor of Nathaniel Macon, leader of the North Carolina Republicans and at one time Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. There for many years he was his state's outstanding political figure. It was somewhat ironic, however, that this western county should receive Macon's name in view of the fact that Western North �264 / Chapter Sixteen ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE Dry Falls: These falls are so called because one can pass behind them without getting splashed by their spray. They are in Macon County. Carolina opposed practically all of his economy measures and eventually helped to bring about the end of Republican control of the state. The county seat was named for Jesse Franklin, governor of the state for a term prior to the bill authorizing the formation of the county.5 The town of Franklin was built on the site of Nikwasi, the ancient sacred city and capital of the Middle Cherokees. The mound near the new town was made by a people of the �More Government for Western North Carolina / 265 forgotten past and had been used by the later Cherokees as an elevation for their council house. There they may have entertained DeSoto and his Spaniards in 1540, and there in 1730 they drank to the health of King George with the persuasive Cuming. Today the mound broods over a modern mountain town, a sub-capital known as a county seat. That its brooding may be undisturbed by thoughtless persons seeking relics of a past civilization, the citizens and school children of Macon County purchased the mound in 1946 and presented it to the city of Franklin to be held as a public trust. A marker designating the site of old Nikwasi has been placed at the mound.6 As soon as the new county was formed, the county court set about its road building. Citizens working in shifts under an appointed overseer opened a road from Franklin along the Little Tennessee River to the mouth of the Tuckaseigee River. This connected with a highway being constructed to the Tennessee line.7 In the third decade of the century three more petitions from mountain sections received favorable action in the General Assembly. Yancey County was authorized in 1833, Henderson County late in 1838, and Cherokee County in 1839. The new Yancey County comprised all the Toe River valley. It was an old country, bearing evidences of ancient battles between the Cherokees and the Catawbas, who had spasmodically contended for coveted hunting rights in the fertile region. Here, too, was evidence of Spanish invaders, coming after 1540, not to settle, but to sink mine shafts in search of gold and silver and possibly other metals.8 Across this area in 1771 James Robertson had led sixteen families from Wake County to the new Watauga Settlements to the west. And through it in September, 1780, had tramped the aroused frontiersmen on their way over the hills to stop once and for all Ferguson's raids east of the Blue Ridge. Scattered settlers along the North and South Toe Rivers had joined these marching men and had taken part in the battle of King's Mountain. Here, too, a few years later speculators like Waightstill Avery, John Gray Blount, and William Cathcart had received vast grants of land with an eye to the rich wealth of minerals known to be locked in the hills.9 From 1777 to the formation of Buncombe County in 1792, both the North and the South Toe valleys had been a part of Burke County, and the northern section remained so until 1833 when both areas were again united in the county of Yancey. Contrary to �266 / Chapter Sixteen ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE Linville Gorge: The Linville River makes its way between Linville Mountain and Jonas Ridge. This wildly beautiful gorge in Burke county was viewed by the French botanist Andre Michaux in 1802. Today it is designated as a Wilderness Area. the experience in many new Western North Carolina counties, the selection of a site for the county seat submitted by commissioners pleased all sections of the county. The selected town was named Burnsville in honor of Captain Otway Burns, an officer in the navy during the second war with England. The county name honored Bartlett Yancey, twice a member of the United States Congress from North Carolina. Much of the legislative energies of the new county was consumed during the succeeding years in forming plans for making the county seat accessible to all its sections by the construction of badly needed roads. Ambitious plans were also drawn up for an east-west highway across the county, giving access over the Blue Ridge to Morganton and connecting in the west with Buncombe Turnpike along the French Broad River. Access routes to both Tennessee and South Carolina markets would thus be established. An alternate plan for the western section, should the original one prove impractical, called for a highway going directly south to Asheville.10 �More Government for Western North Carolina / 267 PHOTO BY BARBARA GREENBERG FOR THE APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM The Valley Crucis Mission School: Originally purchased for (<a shotgun, a pair of leggins, and a hound dog, " acreage in this beautiful valley was later purchased by Bishop Levi Silliman Ives in 1842 and became the site of a training school for the Episcopal ministry. In later years the Mission School has served as a classical and agricultural school for boys, a preparatory school for girls, and a parish training center for theological students. The original structure, shown here, today serves as part of a year around conference center for the Episcopal Diocese of Western North Carolina. Some progress was made in these projects by improving the narrow, inadequate existing roads and by constructing a few new local ones, all by the system generally employed of impressing citizens for road construction and maintenance. But the new county was pathetically poor and not enough help was forthcoming from the state to convert the dream of an east-west artery of trade into a reality. As time went on, however, sections of it were built and maintained after a fashion. Because of its lack of anything like an adequate system of roads and the resultant difficulty of getting its products to suitable markets, mountainencompassed Yancey County was thwarted in its economic and social progress until well into the present century. Henderson County, created by an act of the General Assembly in December, 1838, comprised the southern section of Buncombe �268 / Chapter Sixteen MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Ploughing small patches of ground with an ox or a horse or with a mule as this boy is doing was long a familiar sight -in many Western North Carolina counties. County and was a well-developed and populous area with several well-defined rural settlements. The first road ordered built by the new Buncombe court in 1792 extended into this area, and in it some of Buncombe County's first industries had been established. Around the turn of the century Phillip Sitton had built ironworks, getting his ore from what is now known as Forge Mountain. His output of needed iron justified the bounty he received from Buncombe County. Matthew Gillespie set up a forge nearby where he and his sons, Harvey, Phillip, and Wilson, made long rifles for the pioneer hunters. Both of these enterprises had been invaluable to the early settlers west of the Blue Ridge.11 The southern boundary of the new county was also the dividing line between North and South Carolina, and throughout the county's length had passed the first roads built as links between the mountain area and the distant South Carolina markets. There were several of these, most of them following original native trails that had been glorified into pony paths during the days of the �More Government for Western North Carolina / 269 N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Back in the hills getting to the "church house "on Sundays often meant crossing a stream on a foot log. Indian trade. One of these roads crossed the mountains into South Carolina by way of Caesar's Head. Another took the mountain traveler—one presumes on horseback—southeast by way of Hickory Nut Gorge into Rutherford County, while a third led over Saluda Gap, connecting with a road to Greenville, South Carolina. Still another link was the widened Indian and traders' path leading to the Spartanburg area of South Carolina.12 It was the Saluda Gap road over which the dauntless Bairds had brought their wagon and goods to set up merchandizing in the newly created Buncombe County in 1793. It was this same mountain road that, nine years later, Bishop Asbury had found negotiable only on foot and with the aid of two sticks. In 1806 Asbury had tried the road into Rutherford County, finding it equally bad and recording that for nearly a mile its descents were like the roof of a house.13 These roads, poor as they were, had been the means of developing the region west of the Blue Ridge. The area that became Henderson County had been especially favored by these highways over which settlers first entered the mountains. The geography of the country had also been an asset to this territory, for in it was the broadest, most open valley to be found in all Western North Carolina. Its fertility was early recognized. By 1838 the county had well established settlements in �270 / Chapter Sixteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. In remote coves and on hillsides in both old and new counties families continued to live much as the first settlers had. Their cabins were small; they tilled a few acres; they raised their food; and they hunted for game. Away from the changes brought by the improved highways, they kept the habits, the dress, and the speech of their ancestors. the Mills River and French Broad region as well as along the Green River and along Mud Creek and its tributaries. These farming areas profited greatly after 1826-27 by the Buncombe Turnpike that ran through the length of the county. The Turnpike furnished the farmers with a ready market for their corn at the many stands along it and also provided a means of getting their hogs and horses and turkeys to South Carolina. The westernmost parts of North Carolina continued to grow. Hotels and inns catered to the travelers entering by every gap. At Fruitlands, the home of the Edneys, apple raising was proving practicable. Each community had its established private school, like the Mills River Academy, as well as churches of various denominations. And there were already several camp grounds for the annual summer religious meetings.14 �More Government for Western North Carolina / 271 m PRINT FROM THE ORIGINAL GLASS PLATE NEGATIVE, .BARBER PHOTO Henderson County's First Court House: Although the formation of Henderson County was authorized in 1838, a dispute over the site of the county seat was not settled until 1841. In 1842 the new court house in Hendersonville was ready for use. This picture was taken at a much later date. Both the new county and its county seat were named in honor of Judge Leonard Henderson, one of the associate justices of the state's Supreme Court. A county government was duly set up in 1839 at a court held in the home of Hugh Johnson in the French Broad area, but disagreement arose among the eleven commissioners appointed to select the site for the county seat. On the location of the town the citizens were also divided into two bitterly opposing camps, one contending for a site on Shaw's Creek (on land offered by Hugh Johnson) and the other for a site on Mud Creek that would take advantage of the Buncombe Turnpike. For two years the court held its sessions in the Mills River Academy; meanwhile, the Grand Jury asked permission to heat and use one of the permanent shelters on the camp ground that adjoined the campus of the Academy. During this time litigations concerning the county seat location dragged through the courts. At last the General Assembly ordered the matter settled by a direct vote of the county's citizens. At the elections held in January, 1841, the Buncombe Turnpike site received a majority of 109 votes. In spite of the fact that fraud was at once charged in connection with the voting in the Flat Rock �272 / Chapter Sixteen DORIS ULLMANN, HANGING PHOTOGRAPHS, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The inner strength and the spirit of accepting daily toil as a way of life have been bequeathed by mountain women to their daughters and their granddaughters. area, the courts upheld the election returns. The town of Hendersonville was then laid out on land given by Mitchell King, John Johnson, and James Brittain, and in 1842 the courthouse was ready for use. Although no deeds to lots were recorded until 1846, a village had grown up around the courthouse by that time. In 1850 the General Assembly altered the boundary line between Henderson and Buncombe Counties, and by another act in 1844 it ceded a small portion of Rutherford County to the newly formed county. This strip of land was to become a few years later a part of Polk County.15 �More Government for Western North Carolina / 273 DORIS ULLMANN, HANGING PHOTOGRAPHS, N. C. DEPT. OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Aunt Curtis: For several generations the life of a woman in the mountain sections of the newly formed counties was hard. Yet there were chores in which a woman's heart delighted—gathering the fruit, weaving at the loom} and planting the garden. Good times came in joining neighbors at church and at "play parties." In 1839 a portion of Macon County was formed into the state's most westerly county, Cherokee County. Along its rivers in an age long past, primitive people had come to build their homes and to live their simple community lives. But the region was destined to be a land of changing nations, and these first citizens of the mountains had been forced to give way to successive tribes of mound builders, who, in turn, succumbed to the Cherokees. Now �274 / Chapter Sixteen I N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY A Cherokee Home: By the time the most westerly counties were formed, the Cherokees had long been accustomed to the white man's dress. They no longer lived in lodges but in cabins like those of the white settlers. the Cherokees had been deported by the white man, who had built his little government village on what had been the site for a succession of native American towns. Above the site on a knoll along the Hiwassee River was Fort Butler, erected at the time of the Cherokee removal. To it the reluctant Indians had been brought, and from it they had started on their weary westward journey. On this old village site, where a hundred years earlier English traders had distributed their wares to the Cherokees, was a trading post built before 1835 by Colonel Archibald Russell Spence Hunter. The county seat was for some years known as Huntersville. In 1873, however, it was officially named Murphy in honor of Archibald D. Murphey. Through an error, the "e" in his name was omitted in naming the town. The county's name of Cherokee perpetuates that nation's long association with the land of mountains and streams. By 1839 there was a sufficient number of settlers in the area to justify a county government, for people had followed Hiram Lovingood, who had come from Burke �More Government for Western North Carolina / 275 County back in 1830, building a log cabin in the upper Andrews section and taking out land. The newly organized Cherokee county already had a forge or two in operation, and each community had its church, the oldest being the Whitiker Church where George Washington Lovingood, brother of Hiram, preached on Sundays and labored at his land clearing during the week. The first court was held at Fort Butler on March 19,1839. Two years later a courthouse was ready for use and served the county until it was destroyed by a fire set by raiding Federal troops in the Civil War.16 East of the Blue Ridge two additional counties were authorized shortly afterward, Caldwell in 1841 and McDowell in 1842. Named for Dr. Joseph Caldwell, first president of the state University and one of the state's early advocates of educational reforms and internal improvements, Caldwell County was formed from portions of Wilkes and Burke Counties. From Wilkes it received Fort Defiance, the Happy Valley plantation home of William Lenoir. He was an outstanding officer at King's Mountain and an early community leader. Lenoir's private fort had offered protection to settlers during the Indian raids preceding and during the War for Independence. Since 1805 there had been a post office at Fort Defiance with mail brought by carrier on horseback from Wilkesboro. Caldwell received from Burke County another early fort, Ford Crider. Also privately built around 1765, it was the gathering place for nearby settlers in times of danger. Near this fort, in 1841, James Harper operated a store and for nine years a post office as well, getting mail once a week from Salisbury. In a log house in 1843 Judge Frederick Nash presided over the county's first court that set up the machinery of government. The county seat was happily named and located, honoring William Lenoir and being placed at Tucker's Barn. This structure, large for a pioneer building, had been built by the Tucker family near Fort Crider. As the most commodious structure available, and with the added advantage of being close to the fort, the barn early served as a gathering place and social center for the settlers. There meetings were held, speeches given, celebrations conducted, and barbecues enjoyed. For more than a gene ration much of the life of the surrounding settlers had centered around Tucker's Barn, now Lenoir. As was the case with other counties, Caldwell at once concerned itself with road building and in time had a highway �276 / Chapter Sixteen JUNE GLENN, JR. PHOTO, ASHEVILLE CITIZEN-TIMES COMPANY Transylvania County's Looking Glass Falls are in the present Pisgah National Forest near modern Highway 276. connecting over the Blue Ridge with Boone and one going south to Morgan ton.17 The following year, 1842, by an act of the General Assembly, Burke County's southern portion and Rutherford County's northern portion were combined to form McDowell County. It was named for a local hero, Major Joseph McDowell of Pleasant Gardens, whose patriotism had been an embarrassment to �More Government for Western North Carolina / Til Ferguson's forces. McDowell had been one of the leaders in the Battle of King's Mountain. With the Blue Ridge on its western border, the more gentle South Mountains to the east and southeast, and with the broad, fertile Catawba River valley traversing it, the area had early been settled. In it Fort Davidson, now Old Fort, had protected the settlers from the Cherokees and had provisioned pioneers crossing the Blue Ridge to make the first communities in the country beyond. Many of the settlers coming into the area after the Revolutionary War had been veterans of that conflict, and some had become large land owners. Among those holding large grants was Robert Morris. He had been financial director of the Revolution and had been given some 200,000 acres in this region by an impoverished new national government unable to repay the patriot for the use of his time and fortune in the cause of liberty. Robert Morris's will was recorded in the McDowell courthouse. The county seat was named Marion in honor of Francis Marion, leader of the guerrilla band dogging Cornwallis's army on its march through South and then through North Carolina. Both Caldwell and McDowell Counties had been scenes of pillage and struggle during the War for Independence and had suffered at the hands of Tories and Loyalists.18 In 1849, still another county was formed west of the Blue Ridge. It was made up of the southern portion of Ashe County, the western part of Wilkes County, the northeastern portion of Yancey County, and a small section of the new Caldwell County. The name Watauga selected for it was an old one and an appropriate one, for the settlers in its western borders had at one time been a part of the old Watauga Settlements. It had been the country of hardy hunters and herders, the country of Howard and of Daniel Boone. It was fitting, that its seat of government should receive the name Boone, although it was 1850 before that name was given to the village.19 The site selected for the seat of government was located near Howard's cabin for herders where it is thought that Boone was in the habit of seeking shelter when on hunting expeditions in the region. This was also the valley viewed earlier by Bishop Spangenberg and his party and considered by them as a site for an Indian mission. In 1849 the community was known as Council's Store. On the highway running through it from Tennessee and Kentucky and connecting with roads leading into Virginia and South Carolina, Jordan Council, Jr., had his store and stand and, after 1823, a post office. Council was active in urging the formation of the county �278 / Chapter Sixteen •.' <*/ iisi ^ '"•"& THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The sheer cliffs of Whiteside Mountain have long been landmarks for travelers through Jackson County. High on one of the cliffs Spanish writing has been found, a message perhaps left by some gold-seeking Spaniard. and donated the land for the town's first school house. Although the Watauga County government was set up in 1849, it was allowed no representation of its own in the House until 1851 and was allowed none in the Senate of the General Assembly until 1864. During the intervening years it was represented by legislative members from Surry and Wilkes Counties.20 The formation of western counties had been long over due because of opposition on the part of the eastern bloc in the General Assembly. Frequently petitions were not considered until eastern counties were ready to be formed. Their rapid authorization after 1836 is a considerable indication of the growth of population and of its distribution in Western North Carolina, for opposition in the east decreased after that date. In fact, while nine counties were formed in the mountain region, between 1835 and 1860 only two were authorized for the east.21 Four of these western counties came into being during the decade of the 1850's. They represented four sections of the total area: Madison, bordering Tennessee; Alleghany, bordering Virginia; Polk, bordering South Carolina �More Government for Western North Carolina / 279 between Henderson and Rutherford Counties; and Jackson, farther west and bordering South Carolina between Henderson and Macon Counties, The authorization bill for the formation of a county to be carved from Buncombe and Yancey Counties and to extend to the mountain border of Tennessee was passed in 1851, and the new county was given the name of Madison, honoring the fourth President of the United States. The first court was held on the last Monday in February at the tavern operated by Adolphus E. Baird. Attempting to profit by the dissensions over the selection of county seats that arose in Henderson and Polk Counties, the General Assembly arranged for a popular vote in the event that two or more sites were suggested. Jewel Hill, now Walnut, was selected and several terms of court were held there, although no courthouse was erected. The dissensions foreseen by the General Assembly developed, and in its 1852-53 session that legislative body appointed a new committee to make the choice. The committee selected the site on the French Broad River where Baird had his tavern on land belonging to T. B. Vance. In 1855 this site was chosen by the voters by a one vote majority, and plans were made for building a courthouse. Court continued to be held in Jewel Hill until 1859 when apparently, the new building was ready for occupancy. The village along the French Broad River was named Marshall in honor of John Marshall, first Judge of the United States Supreme Court.22 That same year, 1851, Jackson County was formed from sections of Hay wood and Macon Counties and named for Andrew Jackson. It embraced a rugged mountain area that for an uncharted time had been a part of the Cherokee homeland where the native Americans had left one of the few hieroglyphic inscriptions to be found in Western North Carolina. This writing appears on an outcropping of slanting rock, called by the Indians the Judaculla Rock. Its weird markings were uncipherable to both the later Cherokees and to the coming white men and gave rise to a whole cycle of Cherokee myths and sagas dealing with the exploits of its mythical maker, the giant Judaculla. Whether its inscriptions were made by the Cherokee or by an earlier people is not known at the present, but some students of history think that it is a Cherokee description or diagram of a battle.23 Jackson County had been more than once the scene of bloodshed during the struggle between the Cherokees and the �280 / Chapter Sixteen whites. In 1776 Rutherford's forces had traversed it to leave its villages in ruin. Through it had passed the Meigs-Freeman line, running north and south about a mile and a half east of the present Sylva. On the white man's side of this line that divided the two races, the Foster Trading Station had early been established for trade with the Cherokees. Somewhat later Colonel Robert Love had built a trading post between what is now Sylva and Webster. These posts had prospered, and settlers had come into the area, crowding to the line. Some, without doubt, slipped across into the forbidden territory. Among the early settlers in the county was a group of French Huguenots, coming from South Carolina and going into the Tuckaseigee valley where they established at the mouth of Caney Fork Creek, a settlement they named East LaPorte. Today that name is one of the few reminders of the presence of the French in Western North Carolina. The first court was held by Judge John W. Ellis, later to be governor of the state, at the home of Daniel Bryson, Sr., and the second session was held at "Allen Fisher's new store." The county seat was established at Webster on a broad elevation above the Tuckaseigee River. It was not until the railroad made the village of Sylva more desirable as a center of county government that the citizens voted in 1913 to move the county seat to that town.24 When war or opposition struck Western North Carolina from without its borders, its citizens, strong in their sense of independence and jealous of their democracy, fought it as a unit. Whether the disturbance came from the Cherokees to the west, from the forces of Ferguson to the east, or from the dominating eastern members of the General Assembly, these mountain settlers were quick to respond. But, like a family, they could and often did fight each other fiercely over issues arising within their own borders. As happened in Henderson County, factions now and then developed that split the county and that, in the case of Polk County, led the General Assembly to repeal its Authorization Bill. Early in its 1847-48 session, the General Assembly authorized the formation of Polk County from a western section of Rutherford county and an eastern portion of Henderson County. This county, named in honor of Colonel William Polk, straddled the Blue Ridge Mountains. Its eastern section had been settled before the Revolutionary War, and the pioneers there had been divided in their sympathies during that conflict. As a result, it had suffered from the violence that had flared up. It had suffered, too, from Cherokee raids. �More Government for Western North Carolina / 281 Under the Enabling Act, the new county was to set up its local government but was to have no representation in the General Assembly for some years, its citizens being represented as in the past by members from Henderson and Rutherford Counties. The county seat was to be named Schuywicker in memory of Captain Howard's Cherokee guide and was to be not more than five miles from the residence of Marvil Mills at whose home the first court met.25 But dissension over the site immediately broke out and became bitter, resulting in an injunction to stop the appointed commissioners from selecting the site and ordering the laying off of lots. Although meetings of the county officers were held from time to time during the next year and a half, little was done as the quarrel went through the courts. At last, on January 16, 1849, the General Assembly repealed the act authorizing Pplk County, and the legislature's right to do so was upheld by the state's Supreme Court. It was not until January, 1855, that a new bill was passed, identical to the first one except for the clause concerning the county seat. This bill provided that the town should be situated in the center of the county. It was named Columbus for Dr. Columbus Mills, who had been instrumental in getting the county formed a second time. Before March of the next year, a temporary courthouse was erected, and the machinery of government was set up. Polk had finally become a permanent county.26 The most northeasterly corner of Western North Carolina became the county of Alleghany in 1858. It was formed from Ashe County but later received small strips of land from other counties, necessitating numerous boundary adjustments. It was given the name of one of the Appalachian mountain chains, which was also the name of an Indian tribe early met by the Spaniards. Alleghany County's first court met at Shiloh Church and continued to meet there until a courthouse was built at the county seat, Sparta. It was ordered by the General Assembly to be established in the center of the county. The new county bordered Tennessee and the trade of the settlers there had long been with that state and continued to be. The government of this mountainous area was incomplete when war broke out, and the county was caught in the turmoil of internal dissension.27 Just at the outbreak of the Civil War, Western North Carolina gained three additional counties—Transylvania and Clay along its southern boundary, and Mitchell on its western border. Across the territory organized into Transylvania County �282 / Chapter Sixteen was the ancient Indian trail leading from the present Henderson County to the Davidson River. From there it ran over the mountains to the French Broad and on to Estatoe, the most easterly of all the Cherokee towns and now the site of Rosman, and then down into South Carolina. This trail was early made into a road, and along it had passed the volunteers on their way to the Mexican War. This region had been settled earlier when a grant of 640 acres had been made to Colonel Charles McDowell of Quaker Meadows in 1787. After 1790 a little colony was established along the Davidson River, and other settlers went to the forks of the French Broad. A private fort erected by John Carson was reassuring to these first settlers who were living so close to the Cherokee country. When Henderson County was formed, the settlers in its western area voted solidly for the French Broad or "River" site for a county seat. They were never reconciled to the returns of the election that placed the seat of government on Mud Creek, or the "Road" site, and they began an agitation soon afterwards for the formation of a county out of the western portion of Henderson. After years of impatient waiting, the petition for such a county was presented in the General Assembly and granted in 1861. An organizing group met at James Neill's Hattery Shop on the old Boylston road near the site of the present Ecusta plant. Contrary to the custom of naming counties for prominent North Carolinians, this district received the name Transylvania, a name possibly suggested by residents who had in mind the Transylvania colony in Kentucky. Brevard, the county seat, was ordered established within five miles of the home of W. P. Poor. It was named for Ephraim Brevard, secretary of the Mecklenburg Convention. The new county was to have no direct representation in the General Assembly until later and was in the meantime to be represented by the members from Henderson and Jackson Counties.28 In the same year that Transylvania was formed, Clay County was formed from Cherokee County and named for Henry Clay. Its county seat was established at Hayesville, honoring George W. Hayes. Like the other counties formed just prior to the outbreak of war, its government was incomplete when the conflict came, and the county suffered greatly from the unsettled conditions.29 The third county to be formed that year was Mitchell County, named for Dr. Elisha Mitchell, explorer of the peak that now �More Government for Western North Carolina / 283 bears his name. It was formed from portions of Yancey, Watauga, Caldwell, Burke, and McDowell Counties. The county seat was to be named Calhoun. Like the history of many counties, however, there was again disagreement over the placing of the county seat, and the justices refused to levy taxes for the courthouse at the village of Calhoun. They pointed out that it was inconvenient for at least three-fourths of the residents of the county. The deadlock that resulted was referred to the General Assembly and that body in 1863 ordered a site to be selected in the geographic center of the county. Under that stipulation, Davis was chosen, but the name of the village proved unsatisfactory to the citizens, who were, for the most part, Union sympathizers. In 1868, therefore, the name was changed to Bakersville. Over a period of time, by act of the General Assembly, the boundary lines of this county were adjusted and readjusted.30 By the beginning of the Civil War, Western North Carolina had twenty-one counties, although several of them had as yet not been permitted to have representation in the General Assembly. A few had not yet erected courthouses, and most of them would require boundary adjustments. Moreover, the local governments in those established last were still incomplete and not strong enough to cope with the unsettled conditions arising in connection with the turmoil of war. �C H A P T E R S E V E N T E E N The Lure of the Mountains X\fter 1838 the first stage of frontier life rapidly disappeared in Western North Carolina as settlers took up land in the old Cherokee nation and transplanted their ways of living to the newly opened areas that extended to the borders of the state. That is not to say that the pattern of living throughout the region became one of prosperity and progress. On the contrary, until the Civil War every county had mountain sections in which people lived much as the earliest settlers had, but they were no longer experimenting with a type of living suitable for their mountains. The pattern had already been formed, and they were following it as a settled way of life. Indeed, they were to follow it, with a few gradual changes, for years to come. Occasionally the people coming to these isolated areas left records of the conditions they found. The Reverend W. W. Skiles, for example, taught from 1842 to 1862 in the Episcopal school at Valle Crucis and had a tiny, log church nearby in which he preached on Sundays. He saw in the people "an interesting population in great spiritual destitution." The community, he declared, was "of the rudest kind," while in his congregation he observed "more feet than shoes."1 Natives of Western North Carolina also recorded illuminating word pictures of conditions in areas more or less remote and hence cut off from the benefits of rich river valleys and from the turnpikes. Riding the circuit in 1853-54 to county courts in 284 �The Lure of the Mountains / 285 Buncombe, Henderson, Yancey, Madison, Haywood, Jackson, and Cherokee, Judge Augustus S. Merrimon of Asheville complained of the wretched state of the roads he had to travel. He complained of the filth he found in the little villages and of the lack of anything like comfortable or clean accommodations to be had in the little log houses that served as inns. He recorded the residents' utter lack of outlook or interest in anything beyond their own problems of hog marking, "boars, mountain boomers, and the like," and he lamented the low moral standards everywhere in evidence. Merrimon was shocked at the prevalence of ill will and vengefulness, which it seemed to him, rankled "in the bosom of every one." County officers, appointed by the governor upon the recommendations of the General Assembly, were, he found, often "ignorant as heathen, and corrupt as demons/' He deplored, too, the prevalence of drinking that characterized all court days.2 Temperance societies had appeared in the state before 1830, and the North Carolina Temperance Societies had held a meeting in Rutherford County that year, while a local society was formed at Brittain Church the following year.3 After that, temperance agitation soon crossed the Blue Ridge to the regions beyond. But in a country where every farm had its still, where no form of license or supervision was required for the manufacture of spirituous drinks, and where it was held that a man had the right to do what he chose with the grain he grew, the temperance cause got little support from either the people, their leaders, or the church congregations. Yet even in these sections of Western North Carolina in the years before the outbreak of war there were signs of better times to come. The establishment of schools, both church sponsored and public, the gradual improvement of roads, and the broadening outlook gained from general political meetings, together with the building of churches were all factors which could bring about the improvements desired by Judge Merrimon. In the areas opened to trade, however, the picture was a brighter one. In the quarter of a century before the war, easing the transportation situation brought not only a degree of prosperity to people living in these favored regions, but also an economic stability. Luxuries were slow to cross the Blue Ridge and did not appear in mountain homes until well into the 1850's. Yet the homes were comfortable, with the growing cluster of outbuildings and twisting rail fences enclosing the fields as testaments to �286 / Chapter Seventeen N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY St. John-in-the Wilderness: This church, built before the Civil War, is one of the three Episcopal churches constructed by South Carolinians and Georgians who had summer homes in and near Flat Rock. It is still in use. the high standard of well-being enjoyed by the farmers. They told, too, of the efficiency of operation and the diversification practiced on their farms. Speaking at a meeting in Asheville just before the Civil War, Nicholas W. Woodfin deplored the fact that looms had disappeared from the homes, and homespun was no longer seen on the village streets.4 More forges and mills and tanyards made work easier, and when the plank road came into the region, so did a steam engine for the saw mill that cut the lumber into planks. Schools, both private and public, and churches in this area increased in numbers; overall, a greater social life was enjoyed. In �The Lure of the Mountains / 287 fact, with all of the hard work and continuous grind still involved in a self-sufficient economy, there was enough leisure time to turn every election day, every political rally, and every muster day with its fifes and drums, its parades and drills, into festive occasions. The protracted church meetings continued their social character. The highways, the stagecoaches, the newspapers, more imports, and incoming travelers widened the interest and horizons of Western North Carolina citizens. They developed a sense of being a part of the greater state unit. An increased interest in state politics brought with it plans and demands for their section's share of good roads and railroads, the ante bellum version of a "Finer Carolina."5 In the quarter of a century preceding the war, the complexity of life that was gradually coming into the mountains was apparent in the many events taking place simultaneously in the same or widely separated parts of Western North Carolina. They were events varying in character, but all looked both to the present and to the future. While Rutherford—including Polk—and Burke Counties were caught in the fever of the gold mining earlier described and were reaping the benefits of coins coming from Bechtler's mint, people in the western counties were watching with eager interest the struggle between the federal government and the Cherokees. Many were ready to rush into the opened lands as soon as the last Cherokee had been rounded into the stockades. As the long queue of dejected, displaced native Americans disappeared into the west, the voters in all sections were rejoicing over their victory in gaining, through the revised state constitution, a fuller degree of democracy for Western North Carolina. While county after county eventually gained selfgovernment, William H. Thomas was welding his remnant of the Cherokees into a nation. So well did Thomas succeed in this task that Charles Lanman, visiting the reservation in 1848, considered the Cherokee community self-sufficient, including churches and native preachers, its own courts, well-kept farms, and locally made farm tools. And the Cherokees now had a population at least three-fourths of whom were literate. He considered the Cherokees the happiest community encountered in his southern tour.6 While local dissensions in some counties were dividing the people into factions, roads and highways were being chartered and built to unite all Western North Carolina into a single district. �288 / Chapter Seventeen ••'IF BARBER PHOTO The Farmer Inn: Members of the Flat Rock community built this inn before the Civil War. Henry Farmer was its manager and later its owner. It was the earliest of the resort hotels west of the Blue Ridge. Today it is operated under the name of Woodfield Inn. Every county established its county seat, and a few additional towns came into being during this period. But the pattern of life that was set and maintained remained a rural one, and the towns grew slowly. Asheville and Rutherfordton were the only incorporated villages in the area. In 1850 Asheville had a population of 800, and Rutherfordton claimed 484. It was 1860 before Asheville could boast of having passed the thousand mark with a population of 1,100. For an ever-broadening area, Western North Carolina came to mean to its citizens no longer merely a place to wrest a living from the hills, but a place of settled life and prosperity and future hopes. To travelers coming in over the fine Buncombe Turnpike or plank roads it meant still other things. For some years before the Turnpike was built, a sizable colony of men of wealth and influence from Charleston and the surrounding coastal area had brought their families to northwestern South Carolina for the summers. A little summer community on the Reedy River was �The Lure of the Mountains / 289 N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Warm Springs Station: After the railroad was built along the French Broad River, summer guests could arrive at Warm Springs by the "cars." They could find accommodations at the nearby Warm Springs Hotel. formed and given the name Pleasantburg. A resort hotel was opened in Greenville for the accommodation of these summer guests. From time to time groups of these low-country people made excursions into the foothills of the Blue Ridge, and some of the more adventure-loving braved the poor, rocky roads to cross the range. After the opening of the Turnpike, it was possible for them to travel in comfort across the mountains into that section of Buncombe County later to become Henderson County. These excursions made the South Carolinians recognize Western North Carolina as an ideal place to escape the enervating heat of the flatland summers as well as a place which furnished a complete change from their customary environment. They became the region's first "summer people."7 Their idea of a summer home in the mountains, however, was not the modern one of a rustic retreat in an undisturbed natural setting. Nor did their idea of life in the hills imply reverting to a simple, unencumbered mode of living combined with the study of nature that their contemporary, Henry Thoreau, was advocating. To them a summer in the mountains meant transplanting the life they knew and enjoyed to the new environment. Between 1826 �290 / Chapter Seventeen N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Warm Springs Hotel: At the warm springs, considered medicinal, an inn was opened in 1831. It was later enlarged as a resort hotel. It could accommodate 250 guests and their servants and could provide for their horses. It attracted summer visitors and turnpike travelers. Drovers stayed at the stand that it operated. and 1830 perhaps a half dozen South Carolinians, soon followed by friends and relatives, bought mountain land, acquiring hundreds and sometimes more than a thousand acres each. The early comers chose an area surrounding an outcropping of flat rock pitted with holes. These man-made depressions and the fact that several Indian trails converged at this rock gave rise to the belief that the rock had at one time been of special significance to the Cherokees, possibly as a station for fire signals.8 It was known as the Flat Rock. Unlike the people living in Western North Carolina, these purchasers were not interested in raising corn for the tramping hogs and horses. In fact, most of them were not interested in any phase of mountain farming, and as the years went by, only now and then did one clear land for crops. Instead, they made of their acreages great estates with winding, tree-lined avenues over which elegant carriages arrived at the elegant homes that sat, mansion-like, in expansive park settings. The extensive grounds allowed for hunting in the English and low-country manner and for tracks for horse racing. Several estates could boast of having deer parks.9 Following the custom of the coastal area, these estates �The Lure of the Mountains / 291 received charming names, and the houses were built in the styles their owners would have chosen for low-country homes. Most of them were of English or modified English architecture, taking on the appearance of English manors, complete with porter's gate and lodge, rambling stables, servant quarters, and kennels. A few were modifications of French architecture, while others were created according to the unrestrained ideas of their owners or of employed architects. All were large, with spacious parlors and drawing rooms allowing for lavish entertainment and for balls and for the presentation of the popular private theatricals. These were directed by Mrs. Charles Baring, for years the acknowledged social leader of the colony. Some of the furnishings for these homes came from the coastal cities, but much of it was made on the grounds by cabinet makers brought from Charleston or by those in Asheville or those in the little factory set up by Henry T. Farmer in Flat Rock. The hangings, china, and silver were brought with the family. The Barings, who were Episcopalians, as were most of the group, were accompanied by their rector. Besides furnishing him with a home, they built a little church known as St. John-in-theWilderness, which was attended by many of the summer residents.10 The colony grew, and as it expanded so that distances became too great to travel easily, a second Episcopal church was established by those living in the area known as Fletcher. A building there was constructed of hand-made bricks on land donated by Alexander Blake. It was dedicated on August 21, 1859.n Still another Episcopal church was formed through the efforts of Robert Hume of Charleston, and a building was constructed farther west in the present Transylvania County. It was called St. Paul's-in-the-Valley and served the summer residents of that area.12 After 1836 the number of South Carolinians making Western North Carolina their summer home increased rapidly until "Charleston in the Mountains" extended from Flat Rock to Fletcher and west to the Davidson River and the upper French Broad River valley. In the group were many men of prominence. Judge Mitchell King, owner of some seven thousand acres, was one of the promoters of the plan for a Charleston to Tennessee railroad to pass through the mountain area. He later gave a part of the land needed for Henderson's county seat. Charles Baring, who with his wife was a leader in the social life of the colony, had come to Charleston from England as a representative of the English banking firm of Baring Brothers. �292 / Chapter Seventeen APPALACHIAN NATIONAL PARKS ASSOCIATION COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Paint Rock: With its mysterious colors, this rock was a favorite for sightseers. Guests at the Warm Springs Hotel were taken to it on picnic jaunts. Those daring enough climbed it. �The Lure of the Mountains / 293 Another prominent summer resident was C. G. Memminger, a Charleston lawyer. He was an advocate of public schools in his state, and as an able political leader, he helped to draft the Constitution of the Confederacy. For a short time he served as treasurer of that republic. Marie Joseph Gabriel St. Xavier, Count de Choiseul, at one time a political refugee from France, was now French Consul at Charleston, and the members of his family found their mountain estate, The Castle, so satisfactory that they became year-round residents of Western North Carolina. Christopher Hampton, brother of Wade Hampton, who was later to be governor of South Carolina, built his home near the present Cashiers. Other "summer people" included the Reverend John Grimke Drayton and Dr. Mitchell C. King, son of Judge King. Scores of others before 1860 enjoyed their mountain homes, either for the summer months or for the entire year.13 Each spring the families of these "summer people "arrived by stagecoaches or more often by carriages, traveling over the good turnpike that South Carolina had constructed on the route of the old trading path. It had been used a hundred years before by the state's traders as they took their wares by long pony trains into the Cherokee country. The carriages, for the most part, crossed the Blue Ridge by way of the Buncombe Turnpike to reach the summer destinations by the end of the second week of traveling if all went well. Wagons bringing baggage, necessities, and servants trailed them or, more often, preceded them. To accommodate these discriminating travelers and those arriving later for visits at the estates, hotels were built and suitably furnished along the route. Flat Rock itself early had a hotel.14 The mountain "Charleston" was, of course, practically selfsufficient, and socially there was no connection between this group and the farmers of Western North Carolina. Yet a new way of life had come to the hills, and a fairly extensive strip of accessible territory was now the home of people who, although of the same stock as the mountain dwellers, had for several generations been removed from pioneer life. As the family fortunes made on the rich, spreading plantations increased, they had acquired a broad, even cosmopolitan, culture and outlook. This segment of Western Carolina's population brought to their summer homes an ease of living, a degree of luxury, a charm, and a diversity of interests never before seen in Western North Carolina. Their presence had an effect, even though slight, on the region. For one thing, they created a small but noticeable market �294 / Chapter Seventeen N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Round Knob Hotel: The coming of railroads into the mountains made possible such luxury hotels as this one at Round Knob, Here an added attraction was the fountain known as Andrews Geyser. for grain for their horses and for meat and vegetables and fruits for their own tables; futhermore, they paid for these commodities in welcomed cash. A few mountain people worked when needed with the cabinet makers turning out furniture for the estates, and still others found employment in the hotels that catered to the "summer people." A more noticeable result of the growing summer population in the community was the opening of resort hotels by the local owners of springs considered medicinal. In 1831 James Patton bought the hot springs located on the French Broad River. He improved the grounds around them and built a magnificent hotel on the Buncombe Turnpike. The springs had long been known. The Cherokees, believing in the curative powers of the water, had made pilgrimages to them for perhaps centuries. In 1778 Thomas Morgan and Henry Reynolds, two settlers of the Watauga Settlements, had stumbled upon them as they searched for horses stolen by the Indians.15 Built more than fifty years later, Patton*s two-story hotel, with its wide, pillared piazza facing the river, was designed to accommodate 250 persons and had an ample �The Lure of the Mountains / 295 dining room, a bar, parlors and a ball room. Clustered near it were a half dozen brick cottages for guests, and nearby there were stables to take care of the horses that brought these guests. These buildings, together with those necessary to such an establishment, and coupled with the nearby stand operated during the autumn drives, gave Warm Springs the appearance of a little village. The fame of Patton's hotel spread along the length of the Turnpike, and to it in fine carriages drawn by high-stepping horses came people from North Carolina, Tennessee, and South Carolina. All hoped to benefit from the water, and they were certain of enjoying the fine fare and entertainment offered. Patton and later his sons, John E. and James. W., were genial and lavish hosts. To occupy the hours pleasantly for their guests, they arranged sightseeing and picnic excursions to the Paint Rock and to other places of interest. Musicales and balls and parlor games were organized for the evenings, and for those desiring more manly forms of enjoyment, there were deer hunts in the surrounding forests and hills.16 West from Asheville some four miles another resort was developed at the sulphur springs discovered in 1827 by Robert Henry and his servant. There three years later Henry's son-inlaw, Colonel Reuben Deaver, built a resort hotel, and by 1848 it was also village-like, with a little cluster of buildings which could accommodate two hundred guests and their accompanying servants and horses.17 Stopping there that year on his journey through the mountains, Charles Lanman found the resort occupied, apparently to capacity, by South Carolinians from Charleston and Georgians from Augusta. He was deeply impressed by the magnificence of the resort itself and was charmed with the delightful guests and the pleasing entertainment they enjoyed. He declared that both in natural beauty and in the society gathered there, Sulphur Springs was superior to the better known Saratoga Springs in New York.18 Shortly after Lanman*s visit, other sulphur springs were discovered near Waynesville by a slave of James R. Love, and some time afterwards a resort was also developed there called White Sulphur Springs.19 This resort attracted its share of visitors. These spring-inspired resorts caused glowing reports of Western North Carolina to be taken far beyond the borders of the state. They foreshadowed the time when the pure water of the mountain streams, the buoyancy of the mountain air, and the calm and majesty of the hills themselves would yearly attract not hundreds, but thousands of visitors in search of renewed health. �296 / Chapter Seventeen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Mount Mitchell: This view is from a drawing that appeared in Scribner's Magazine soon after Dr. Mitchell lost his life on its heights. The Half- Way House: This small cabin was a stopping place for those climbing the rugged Mount Mitchell. Dr. Elisha Mitchell: In the summer of 1857 Dr. Elisha Mitchell returned to the Black Mountains to verify his former measurements of their highest peak. That peak, later named for him, became his final resting place. �The Lure of the Mountains / 297 As mentioned earlier, for succeeding generations of scientists the land of mountains continued to be a divinely equipped laboratory in which to gain further knowledge of nature's lavish gifts. In the early years of the nineteenth century, John Lyon, a Scottish botanist who had recently resigned his position as manager of a Philadelphia nursery, came to Western North Carolina. Here he roamed the hills, reveling in the wealth of mountain offerings and leisurely gathering plants to send to European gardeners. He made Asheville his headquarters, taking up lodging at the Eagle Hotel. His interest in the surrounding hills and the charm of his personality made him an admired visitor. When the ravages of tuberculosis at last confined him to his room, he was the concern of many citizens. He was tenderly cared for by another lodger at the hotel, James Johnston, one of the town's blacksmiths. This devoted friend carried the frail Lyon to the window on September 14, 1814, to view for the last time the western range of mountains silhouetted against the flaming afterglow of the setting sun. Unlike the earlier visiting botanists, Lyon left no written record of his experiences in Western North Carolina, but this gentle, sincere lover of nature deeply impressed the mountain people, who long cherished his memory.20 A glossy-leafed mountain plant bearing ethereal, bell-shaped, white flowers was the will-o-the-wisp enticing Harvard University's botanist, Asa Gray, to the Southern Highlands and sending searching parties scouting over the hills and along the streams. The modest little flower had earlier intrigued Andre Michaux, who had taken a plant and its fruit back to Europe. But Michaux's trip had not been at the blooming season for the plant and he was only able to note, "blossom unknown." Yet this discovery held so much interest for him that he left a detailed description of the location in which he had found it in 1788. Asa Gray, in France in 1839, saw the preserved plant and read the French botanist's record of it. He resolved to locate this mountain dweller, and he gave it the name Shortia galacifolia, honoring his friend and fellow botanist, Dr. Charles W. Short. In 1840 Gray visited Western North Carolina, searching for the plant on the mountains of Ashe, Watauga, and Yancey Counties, but all efforts of his searching parties failed to locate the elusive, little mountain plant. Another expedition three years later also ended in failure, and for years the Shortia was known to botanists as a "lost" plant.21 The failure to find it had been due, however, to the difficulty of locating the region described by �298 / Chapter Seventeen ASHEVILLE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE Mount Mitchell Falls: On his way to engage "Big Tom" Wilson for his guide, Dr. Mitchell followed a stream. At the head of these falls he slipped and fell to his death in the pool below. Michaux. In 1877 George McQueen Hyams, seventeen-year-old son of a herbalist, finally discovered the plant growing east of the Blue Ridge at an altitude much lower than Gray's party had searched. Upon receiving the plant, Gray made another trip to Western North Carolina, but the Shortia was not in bloom. It remained for another botanist, Dr. Charles S. Sargent, director of the Arnold Arboretum of Cambridge, Massachusetts, to locate the area described by Michaux and to see the carpet of �The Lure of the Mountains / 299 Shortia plants just where the earlier botanist had witnessed them. Michaux's account applied to a section of the Toxaway country in the present Transylvania Couny. Dr. Gray at last received a blooming Shortia, although he did not see the expanse of blooming plants in their mountain home. Thus almost a hundred years after Michaux first noted the delicate, charming little Shortia, its blooms could be added to the botanical information, for the mountains had given up their secret of the Shortia or Oconee Bell.22 During these years interest developed not only in the flora of the mountains, but also in the mountains themselves (an interest foreseen by Sir Alexander Cuming and John William Gerard deBrahm a century earlier). Local people and scientists became interested in the contours of the individual peaks and ranges, in their rock formations, and in their minerals. Increasing attention was likewise given to their heights. Naturally the two areas attracting the greatest attention were the Smokies, with their many jagged, towering peaks and domes, and the Blue Ridge where Roan, Grandfather and the Black Mountain groups claimed special consideration. The question of mountain altitudes became quite controversial. Many were the conjectures by local enthusiasts and by scientists regarding the relative heights of Western North Carolina mountains and those in New England. New Hampshire's Mount Washington was at that time considered the highest peak in eastern United States. John C. Calhoun of neighboring South Carolina, familiar since young manhood with the mountains of Western North Carolina, expressed the belief that the great Alleghany chain reached its greatest height as it did its width in the Southern Appalachians.23 This opinion was shared by Thomas Lanier Clingman. This statesman from Buncombe County was always deeply and genuinely interested in his mountain district, and he took up the study of measuring land elevations in order to test his theory. He spent several summers trudging over the Smoky Mountains and the Black Mountains. With him he took his measuring instruments to estimate altitudes and to record his findings for publication. On these scientific excursions he sometimes worked with only a guide and the necessary helpers; at other times he was one of a party, as was the case in 1858. Of the peaks he measured, two have special significance, for he measured in the Smokies the towering dome that now bears his name. In 1855 he measured the present Mount �300 / Chapter Seventeen " MARGARET MORLEY COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY "Big Tom" Wilson: f'Big Tom" Wilson, famed bear hunter, had earlier acted as guide for Dr. Mitchell, Heading a searching party of Yancey County men, he located Dr. Mitchell's body and the long search was over. Mitchell, which he found to be 6,941 feet above sea level. That same year he published his findings, claiming that his measurement of the highest peak in the Black Mountains was the first ever to be made. Clingman thus refuted Dr. Elisha Mitchell's claim of a much earlier measurement and asserted that the scientist's measurement was actually that of another mountain, one in Buncombe County. Dr. Mitchell, he maintained, had never been on the peak now bearing his name.24 Dr. Elisha Mitchell was one of two outstanding men of science �The Lure of the Mountains / 301 who did pioneer work in geological studies in Western North Carolina's mountains, including the measurement of several peaks. He actually measured seventeen peaks during two of his many trips to the region. Elisha Mitchell had been trained originally for the ministry, but like many of his profession in the first half of the nineteenth century, he combined preaching with teaching. After a year as tutor at Yale, his alma mater, he joined the faculty of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill as professor of mathematics. He was a man of abundant energy and almost limitless interests, and as President Caldwell broadened the scope of the University's offerings, Dr. Mitchell added to his teaching load classes in chemistry, minerology, and geology. He was also keenly interested in botany. Under a meager appropriation made by the General Assembly, he and Dennison Olmsted, his colleague at the University, carried out a geological survey of North Carolina, publishing their findings. These reports were the first of such summaries to be published in the nation.25 Dr. Mitchell was acquainted with the records of Western North Carolina trips made by the two Michauxs and by William Bartram and from the first he was eager to make excursions into this section of the state. In the summer of 1828 Mitchell was using Wilkesboro as headquarters for geological excursions into the surrounding areas. These took him into Ashe County and through Watauga County where Henry Holtzclaw acted as his guide. During this trip he climbed the rugged Grandfather Mountain, arriving footsore and weary but feeling well repaid by the view he saw. He felt sure, however, that this mountain, high as it was, was not the highest point in the Blue Ridge.26 It must have been the fulfillment of a long desire when he took upon himself the task of exploring the majestic mass known as the Black Mountains, with their peaks reaching skyward. With barometric measuring instruments, Mitchell found the highest of these peaks he climbed to be 6,476 feet above sea level. He published his report in 1835. The Black Mountains called him again and again, and altogether he made five trips to them, carefully measuring and rechecking his earlier findings. As a result, he revised his first records to 6,708 feet and again to 6,672 feet.27 Dr. Mitchell was amazed at the allegations in Clingman's publication of 1855 and wrote an article refuting them and giving his account of his work. Clingman, never one to give up an opinion or to retract a statement, replied with a bitter article, and the difference between the two men took on the nature of a �302 / Chapter Seventeen personal quarrel aired in the newspapers. Perhaps the only gain derived from this unfortunate turn of affairs was the widespread publicity given to the North Carolina peak. But the measurements offered by both men answered the question about the 6,288 foot Mount Washington. The New Hampshire peak was definitely not the highest in eastern America. Clearly that distinction, whoever was right, belonged to a North Carolina mountain. Politically devoted to Clingman as the mountain voters were, they knew him as a man whose self-confidence often reached the stage of arrogance and as one unrelenting in a quarrel. It may be, therefore, that the sympathies of the local residents were with Dr. Mitchell from the start. It is certain that the wholehearted good will of the people went out to this professor painstakingly doing his work in the interest of science when the aftermath of the pamphlet warfare led to tragedy. In June, 1857, Dr. Mitchell, with his son, Charles, a daughter, and a servant, came back to the Black Mountains for still another excursion and additional measuring. He hoped this time to prove his claims. The little party set up camp headquarters at the home of Jesse Stepp at the foot of the mountain. From there Dr. Mitchell and his son worked. On June 27, he left Charles at the Half-Way House, a lodge built as a summer home on a ledge of the mountainside by William Patton of Charleston, but now operated as an inn for mountain climbers by Colonel T. T. Patton of Asheville. The scientist planned to go to the home of Big Tom Wilson, who had been one of his guides during the 1844 explorations, and to arrange for assistance in the final phase of the work. It was already afternoon, and Tom's mountain cabin on the other side of the mountain was a goodly distance to cover. He told his son that he would return Monday afternoon, but no one saw him alive after that parting. When he did not return to camp at the appointed time and still did not arrive Tuesday or Wednesday, Stepp and Charles began a search. At Big Tom's cabin they learned that Dr. Mitchell had not arrived there. Now, thoroughly alarmed for his safety, searching parties were organized to scour the wild mountain country. Big Tom Wilson, Yancey County's honored bear hunter, who had tramped the tangled sides of the Black Mountains with his gun in search of wild game, now headed a party made up of other Yancey men, men of the hills and the woods, bent on a solemn mission. When the news of Dr. Mitchell's disappearance reached Asheville, citizens of the town, including Zebulon Baird Vance, �The Lure of the Mountains / 303 and men of Buncombe County formed another search party. For two days hundreds of men fanned out over the mountains and pushed through laurel and rhododendron thickets, over boulders, and up steep, uncharted inclines through the dark, wood-covered slopes of the massive peak. It began to look as though the mountain would not reveal its secret. But in the end it yielded. The Yancey men found Mitchell's trail along the narrow Caney River. It was their Big Tom Wilson, whose keen hunter's eyes noted the broken laurel twigs, the crushed moss, then the prints of a heel on a rotten stump, some leaves turned wrong side out as though they had been grasped by some one, and finally unmistakable ground evidence of some one slipping. The men followed the stream until they discovered it flowing over a rocky ledge into a pool forty feet below. In this basin their search ended, and the chain of events became clear. Dr. Mitchell had attempted to follow the little river which he knew flowed eventually through Big Tom's small farm. But darkness had over-taken him in this wild region, and he had slipped and fallen to his death. His watch had stopped at ten minutes after eight o'clock.28 News of the discovery was taken to the other searchers. They began the difficult task of getting the body down the mountainside to Asheville where services were held at the Presbyterian Church, with burial in the churchyard. Perhaps no event had so stirred the men of the mountains as did the death of Dr. Mitchell, The people of Yancey, recognizing that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends," knew now that the highest peak in the Black Mountains belonged not only to them, but also to this man of science who had given his life to it in his search for truth. The people asked that he be buried on its crest, and in the following year, when the family consented, the men of Yancey tenderly carried the body of Elisha Mitchell up the mountain to its final resting place on the peak which was later given his name. The next summer, 1858, a slightly-built, energetic, bespectacled man arrived in Western North Carolina to study the Southern Appalachians. He was a scientist of international reputation. Arnold Henry Guyot, like Mitchell, had been educated for the ministry in his native Switzerland. Also like the American, his intense interests had branched out into many fields—languages, botany, physics, the work of glaciers, minerology, geology, and geography. His studies in these fields �304 / Chapter Seventeen took him to many European universities, and in 1848 he came to America to lecture in Boston. In America he stayed and in 1854 accepted a position at Princeton as professor of physics, geography, and geology. The list of Guyot's accomplishments is an amazingly long one. He wrote books in many fields of science, including geography text books. He established a museum at Princeton. He began weather observations under the Smithsonian Institution, and he undertook the exploration and measurement of all outstanding peaks in the Alleghany chain, from Maine to South Carolina.29 In connection with his mountain work it was inevitable that Guyot should be drawn to the Southern Appalachian region, and with the exception of 1857, he spent the summers between 1856 and 1860 in Eastern Tennessee and Western North Carolina. During these months he lived in mountain homes and employed mountain men as guides and assistants in his work. From them he learned the tales of the country, the history of the region, and the names given locally to the peaks and ridges. Guyot tramped up and down the mountains in the Smokies, determining their altitudes by barometric pressure. Not only did he measure the mountains, but he also gave them names. To some he gave significant Indian names. To others were attached the names of early settlers, and still others received names appropriate because of their contours or the appearance gained through their woods and vegetation. Arnold Guyot's work in the Black Mountains was also extensive, and he found the highest peak there to be 6,701 feet above sea level, a figure later revised to 6,707, differing by only one foot from one of Dr. Mitchell's findings. As a summary of his work in the southern mountains, Professor Guyot made topographical maps of the Applachian region. His studies in the long chain of mountains in eastern America justified John C. Calhoun's belief that the Alleghanies reached their greatest height as well as their greatest width in the Southern Highlands.30 New and more accurate instruments and methods have changed the measurements of Western North Carolina mountains arrived at by Clingman, Mitchell, and Guyot. The official measurement of Mount Mitchell has been established at 6,684 feet, with Clingman*s Dome in the Smokies approaching it at 6,642 feet above sea level. The third highest mountain in the Southern Appalachians, a 6,621 foot peak in the Smokies on the boundary line between Tennessee and North Carolina, has most appropriately been given the name Guyot in honor of perhaps the most eminent scientist ever to study these mountains. �The Lure oj the Mountains / 305 To Charles Lanman, yet another visitor, Western North Carolina meant a country of wonder and majesty with waterfalls of sheer beauty and sunsets of unbelievable range and intensity of colors. It meant spectacular views from mountain tops and a riot of color up the hills. It meant hospitality in mountain cabins and in little villages. Western North Carolina also meant being christened "The Wandering Star'' by the friendly Cherokees. It meant riding alone over the crest of wild mountains and then spending a few days in the company of the charming, cultured South Carolinians gathered at Sulphur Springs. To him it also meant a trip to the Black Mountains and back in a deluge of rain that completely obscured the famous peak. It meant, too, a deer hunt arranged by John Patton at Warm Springs. But above all, Western North Carolina meant to him the unforgetable experience of seeing Hickory Nut Gorge, of viewing Grandfather Mountain, and of climbing Roan Mountain. Charles Lanman did not come to Western North Carolina to buy land and settle. He did not come to study its plants. Nor did he come to drink its medicinal waters or to pass a season at one of its resorts. And he brought nothing to sell. He came to see and to revel in the rugged expanse of mountain scenery and to catch glimpses of life in the hills. He was, perhaps, Western North Carolina's first "tourist." What he saw of the land and its people and his impressions of the trip that took him from Murphy to Roan Mountain, he expressed in accounts written in the form of Letters. These he published in magazines so that others might also enjoy the region. To the modern mountain dweller these Letters, penned in 1848, make fascinating reading. They must have been the finest pieces of "advertising" that the region received before the Civil War. One wonders how many, if any, of their readers were lured by them into experiencing for themselves the spell and beauty of the Southern Highlands. Yet it is somewhat significant that when Lanman later collected his many travel sketches, he included Letters From the Alleghany Mountains and named the two-volume work Adventures in the Wilds of the United States and British American Provinces. By 1860 the widely diversified future development of Western North Carolina was clearly foreshadowed. It is intriguing, even though futile, to envision the next two decades in the mountains had there been no interruption of progress, no devastation, and no crushing of hopes by man's most destructive self-made force— war. �C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N Whigs in the Mountains people were coming to the mountains for many reasons, and while local government was being brought close to the people of all sections of Western North Carolina, state and national politics were claiming an increasing share of their interests. As noted in an earlier chapter, mountain voters in 1824 rallied to the banner of Andrew Jackson, considering him a representative of their own independent and democratic frontier politics. From him they expected to gain national action on issues that promised betterment of their counties. They were disappointed when, in the close election that gave no candidate a majority of electoral votes, John Quincy Adams was chosen by the House of Representatives as President of the United States. Four years later, the mountain people again pinned their faith to Andrew Jackson, who had actually been born in Western North Carolina according to those living near the South Carolina border. During the years of Jackson's two terms as president, however, the mountain people learned, both to their surprise and disappointment, of his defeat of the bill to turn the federal surplus over to the states for improvement projects. They learned of his successful fight against the national bank and of his veto of the bill for granting federal aid for improvements. All of these economy measures meant for them no help in their economic struggle. At the same time President Jackson's states rights theory, as it applied to letting the commonwealths work out their own improvements, crushed the hopes of the westerners for their section since the opposition of the eastern representatives in the General Assembly was strong enough to kill all improvement and reform bills. 306 �Whigs in the Mountains / 307 David Lowry Swain, then Western Carolina's representative—at first in the General Assembly and then as Governor of the state for three terms—had been opposed to Jackson as early as 1824. As the easterners gradually came to accept the President as representing their own economy policies, Swain, fighting for reforms, switched to the Whig party. It was nationally organized in 1834 in opposition to Jackson's Democratic Republicans, or Democrats, as they came to call themselves.1 Except for the Toe River area, the voters in Western North Carolina followed Swain into the Whig Party along with voters in the piedmont and sound regions. Soon there were enough to warrant a formal organization of the Whigs in North Carolina in i835.2 Standing for federal and state aid for road and waterway improvements and favoring railroad building and state educational and constitutional reform, this party gave North Carolina a two-party system. The Whig party became the party of Western North Carolina, to remain so until the 1850's. As the western voters saw their leaders achieve places of prominence and influence, they won decisive victories on such issues as constitutional reform, public education, and transportation projects. The mountain people were gaining a feeling of political importance in the state. They rightly felt so, for the Whig Party in the next fifteen years elected satisfactory majorities in the General Assembly four times and continuously kept their candidates in the office of governor as well as a goodly number of their representatives in Congress. They controlled the state's most influential newspapers and, through their closely knit organization, carried their issues directly to the people. In the election of 1836, the first held under the new constitution, voters for the first time cast their ballots for the governor of the state and were eligible to vote for candidates seeking seats in the state House of Representatives without having to present property qualifications. But until 1857 only voters possessing at least fifty acres of land could vote for senators. Throughout Western North Carolina this election took on the nature of a victory celebration, and the new Whig party swept its candidate, Edward B. Dudley, into the governorship.3 Even more colorful was the election of 1840. It had been especially prepared for by the organizations of both parties, and it established a pattern for future elections. Party conventions— new in the state—were held in Raleigh to draw up the party �308 / Chapter Eighteen platforms, and county organizations were set up throughout the state. Candidates for governor along with other office seekers jolted and bumped over the roads in stagecoaches or rode on horseback to county seats to "electioneer." The crowds traveled the back roads to see these aspirants for office and to hear them explain the issues before the state. The political rallies that characterized this and succeeding elections were, in effect, glorified court days. They reached their climaxes when rival candidates—of necessity traveling together—debated the issues. Political debates in the years preceding the Civil War became exceedingly popular throughout the nation. Some, like the Lincoln-Douglas series, became historically famous. But often in Western North Carolina, as elsewhere, the debates had increasingly little to do with logic and much to do with personalities and jibes directed at the opposing speaker and his party. This enhanced their entertainment value for the mountain men, who appreciated broad wit on either side.4 As on court days, the men from the coves and from farms along the little streams and creek banks brought their jugs of whiskey, and it also became customary to have a general barbecue at noon. Since a political meeting meant an entire day, the men made the most of it. To these meetings and rallies the candidates distributed copies of their political newspapers, tracts, and broadsides, often bitter attacks on the opposition. These the mountain men took home to be read by or to those who missed the rally and to be discussed at firesides or along rail fences as neighbor met neighbor. As might be expected, the rallies were used by some spectators as occasions for settling personal grudges, and when political fervor rose dangerously high, angry words were exchanged and brawls resulted. They were lively affairs, these early rallies in Western North Carolina, for the men of the hills were men of action, determined in their opinions, bitter in their disagreements, and quick to resent real or fancied insults.5 Along with his political tracts, a man might take home from the rally a resentment against neighbor or acquaintance, even a heretofore stranger, that deepened into a lifetime animosity. The candidates themselves were quick to anger when insulted. Today in reading the broadsides, filled with personal attacks and what seems like fantastic charges against the other party, the historian wonders how the listeners or candidates knew that the "unpardonable insult" had been uttered. That they �Whigs in the Mountains / 309 knew that the * 'unpardonable insult" had been uttered. That they did know when that delicate line had been crossed is evident from the duels arising out of political differences. In remote areas these duels between voters took the forthright form of shooting, without the frills and niceties of dueling etiquette. Most of these incidents are today forgotten, but a few between candidates of prominence and position are remembered. In November 1827, for example, bad blood was engendered between Dr. Robert Brank Vance, Buncombe County's first native physician, and Samuel B. Carson over allegations and counter-allegations hurled during the campaign in which they were rivals for a seat in Congress. The resulting duel was strictly carried out according to the rules of dueling and took place just south of the dividing line between the two Carolinas. Dr. Vance, a promising young politician and uncle of Zebulon Vance, died from the wounds inflicted by Carson's gun.6 Another memorable incident occurred in 1845 when Thomas L. Clingman, then in Congress, was a participant in a duel with William Yancy of Alabama. It took place just outside the capital city and was brought about by political animosity aroused by debates concerning the bill for the annexation of Texas, which Clingman opposed. It was conducted in the approved fashion for "affairs of honor." Fortunately, neither of the principals was injured. Apparently for both men "satisfaction had been given," and the affair was over before officers of the law appeared.7 Going to a political rally on horseback or on foot over the rocks and around the fallen trees and mud holes that obstructed their roads, the mountain men could look expectantly to a day filled with pleasant social contacts with friends. They could anticipate feasting and entertainment, with the enjoyment of humor and clever sallies of the speakers, high political emotions, and probably moments of tense excitment. Yet these rallies, with their speeches and debates, served a far deeper purpose and performed a more serious service to the voters of Western North Carolina than mere entertainment. By 1840 Raleigh newspapers, both Democratic and Whig, were entering the mountain region by means of the stagecoaches, and for ten years Rutherfordton had had its own paper, The North Carolina Spectator and Western Advertiser, which gave way in 1836 to The Carolina Gazette. In 1840 under new management, it became the weekly Western Star of Liberty, espousing the Whig principles.8 In 1840, too, The Highland Messenger appeared in Asheville. It was �310 / Chapter Eighteen PACK MEMORIAL LIBRARY, ASHEVILLE Thomas Lanier Clingman: Clingman was a lawyer, a scientist, and a Congressman. In honor of his achievements in measuring the heights of Western North Carolina mountains, one of the peaks in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park bears his name. As a Congressman in the trying times preceding the Civil War, he became a spokesman for the South. the first newspaper to be printed west of the Blue Ridge, and in 1849, The Ashevilk News, expressing Democratic party principles, printed its first issue.9 These newspapers were small, usually four pages, with little attention paid to local news. As Rutherfordton's rapid succession of newspapers indicates, they were all financial risks to the owner-editors and many were short-lived. Others survived by becoming mouthpieces for one or the other of the political parties. Their subscription rates were high and their circulation was limited; yet they had more readers than their short subscription lists would seem to indicate. They all played a �Whigs in the Mountains / 311 definite part in molding the political thinking of their readers.10 But these politically biased newspapers did not reach far beyond the main roads suitable for stagecoaches. An overwhelming majority of settlers in Western North Carolina never saw newspapers except as they might acquire one at a political rally. And a distressing proportion of the population could not read them. The people living back from the arteries of trade came to depend upon the rallies, therefore, for their political information. Knowing this, each candidate or speaker was quick to stress the advantages to the mountain section to be gained by the measures and policies he advocated. He was sure to point out how the planks in his party's platform would result in concrete benefits to the mountain district, and at the same time he demonstrated how all that the mountain men held dear would be swept away if the opposing party or candidate came into office. Largely through verbal information, thousands of small farmers came to believe that the Whig party would achieve economic improvement for their section of the state in the form of better roads, railroads, and freer money. For this reason, Western North Carolina became one of the state's Whig strongholds. The western Whigs were not disappointed in their political faith. By controlling the state offices, the Whig party was able to inaugurate reforms and to set in motion the machinery for statewide improvement projects. David Lowery Swain of Western North Carolina, who had been the leading force in the first realizations of these plans, which took the form of constitutional revision, left the governorship and took up work as an educator. He exerted his energies mainly in behalf of the state's school and university problems. Swain's place of political influence within the party was taken by another man from the mountains. In 1836, Thomas Lanier Clingman, a twenty-four year old lawyer from Surry County, opened a law office in Asheville. He had graduated with honors from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 1832 and, after studying law in Hillsboro, had served a term in the General Assembly as representative from Surry County. He was both striking in appearance and forceful and convincing as a speaker. Born of pioneer stock which included a Cherokee ancestress, Clingman could readily identify himself with the mountain people who were struck with his ability, his fearlessness, and his honesty. The voters of the 49th District, made up of Buncombe, Hay wood, and Macon Counties, elected him on the Whig ticket, therefore, to the state Senate in 1840. Although �312 / Chapter Eighteen FROM DOWD'S LIFE OF VANCE, THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Vance s First Law Office: After being licensed as a lawyer in 1852, the twenty-one year old Zebulon Baird Vance opened his law office in this small building on College Street in Ashemlle. he was too much of an individualist to adhere strictly to party lines, Clingman took over the leadership of the Whigs in the Senate. He threw his energies into the improvement measures they advocated, always taking the side of the West in sectional differences arising within the state party. The Senator worked for east-west highways, championing the construction of a turnpike from Raleigh to Tennessee by way of Wilkesboro and Jefferson. He also advocated another from Fayetteville to Asheville, which would connect with the Buncombe Turnpike, thus giving access to Tennessee. Clingman asked for state aid in building these roads, and he proposed the incorporation of a Nantahala Turnpike through the western section of his mountain district. He favored improved educational conditions in the state and the establishment of more colleges. In addition, he vigorously advocated state aid for railroads.11 �Whigs in the Mountains / 313 In 1842 Thomas Clingman was elected as one of the state's representatives in Congress, taking office in the January, 1843, session. He was returned to this office, serving until 1855 as a Whig, except for the 29th Congress when he was returned as a Democrat. In 1858 he was appointed by Governor Thomas Bragg to the seat in the United States Senate left vacant by the death of Asa Biggs. Clingman won the seat in his own right at the next election and was a member of the Senate until war broke out in 1861. In Congress he threw his tremendous energy into upholding the interests of his state. Although he was frequently charged with inconsistencies in his policies, he gradually helped to crystalize not only North Carolina's position on slavery but he also became a voice of the South. As such, Clingman interpreted the attitude of the South and warned against measures ignoring the economic problems and welfare of that section of the nation.12 Attending political rallies and early imbibing political opinions, still another Western North Carolina leader was growing to manhood in the hills in the 1840's. Zebulon Baird Vance was a grandson of David Vance, who had presented the petition for the formation of Buncombe County from the Burke County settlers living west of the Blue Ridge. He was also the grandson of Zebulon Baird, Buncombe County's resourceful first merchant. Members of the Vance family, who derived from sturdy English stock of Norman French extraction, were politically minded and alert to local needs. Those of Zebulon's grandfather's generation had done their parts in the Revolutionary War to win independence and democratic principles for their country. From these ancestors, Zebulon Vance inherited a talent for leadership, which was intensified by his inheritance from the Baird family. Zebulon Baird, his maternal grandfather, was born in Scotland. Coming to Asheville in 1793, he had represented the new Buncombe County in the General Assembly, first in the lower house and then in the Senate. From the Bairds, Vance inherited the flashing wit, the shrewdness, and the quickness of mind that characterized his mother's family.13 For the part he was destined to play in the history of this state, Zeb Vance had the advantage of a boyhood in the mountains. He was born on a farm in Reems Creek valley some ten miles from Asheville. Like the other boys in the neighborhood, he attended "Old Field Schools" (short-term, subscription, elementary schools). He later attended Washington College at Jonesboro, �314 / Chapter Eighteen BARBER PHOTO Judson College: Until after the Reconstruction Period the education of children and young people was largely the concern of the churches. In addition to private schools, churches established academies, often called colleges. Some of those in operation before 1860 were Rutherford College in Burke County, Mars Hill in Madison County, and Judson College in Henderson County. Tennessee, which was under the management of the Reverend Samuel Doak. Still later, he was a student at the University of North Carolina where David Lowery Swain was President.14 As a farm boy and for a time as a helper earning his living at John Patton's stand in Madison County, Vance came to understand the economy of the area as it ebbed and flowed according to the droves of livestock thundering down the Buncombe Turnpike to southern markets. From the farmers bringing their corn and from the drovers and drivers, he became familiar with conditions on the broad, river bottom farms and in the coves with their mountain grazing lands. The young Zeb Vance was genuinely interested in people. He had a word, a jest, and a genial, infectious laugh to share with all who passed. As he went through his teens, he was learning to understand people—his mountain people, all people. From his forebears and from his environment Vance �Whigs in the Mountains / 315 developed a fearlessness of opinion and action, together with an honesty that was never questioned, a singleness and loftiness of purpose that seemed to be gifts from his native hills, and a dogged determination that smacked of their granite. Perhaps more than any other individual, Zebulon Baird Vance typified the strength and sturdy virtues, as well as the independence and the intellectual capacities of the people making the mountains of Western North Carolina their home. Perhaps it was for those very qualities that he became one of his state's most beloved citizens. Following his study of law in 1854, Vance, then twenty-four years old, was sent by his native county of Buncombe to the General Assembly and four years later was elected to Congress as a Whig. His career there was interrupted for twenty-four years by the Civil War. During that time he gave his abundant energies to the cause of the Confederacy and to the welfare of North Carolina, serving as Governor during the war and for one term afterward. It was during this period of Whig activity that the little log school houses, discussed in a previous chapter, appeared in every western county. These schools gradually increased their service to the people as Dr. Calvin H. Wiley's educational program strengthened their curricula and increased the efficiency of the teachers. Although from today's standpoint these schools left much to be desired, they were a leaven raising the degree of literacy, and hence the outlook, in Western North Carolina. By 1860 in the prosperous areas, these mountain schools were as efficient, perhaps, as the schools in most of the new areas of the nation. The Buncombe Turnpike and the road connecting the citizens of Watauga County with Morganton, Rutherfordton, and with South Carolina markets, together with other north-south roads, continued their beneficial services to Western North Carolina; nevertheless, roads and their upkeep remained the major problem of the mountain country. For the first time the region looked to the state with some degree of confidence for aid in constructing additional trade lanes. In Governor Morehead the section had a champion in its road demands. John Motley Morehead had been one of the young liberals supporting the reforms advocated earlier by Murphey. In his 1840 campaign he had promised to work for state aid for internal improvements. Western North Carolina received encouragement from his 1842 message to the General Assembly in which he listed as one of the state's most pressing �316 / Chapter Eighteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The Young Congressman: In 1858, at the age of twenty-eight, Vance won a seat in the House of Representatives in the Thirty-Fifth Congress of the United States. He took the seat made vacant by the resignation of Thomas Lanier Clingman, who became a senator, needs the construction of the east-west highway earlier envisioned by Joseph Caldwell. Extending from the coastal area westward through the mountains to Tennessee, such a highway would, he pointed out, open the mountain-locked region to eastern markets. �Whigs in the Mountains I 317 Morehead echoed the convictions of the mountain people when he pictured the development that such a highway would bring to Western North Carolina. "When good roads shall be established in that region," he contended, "it is believed the population will increase with rapidity, agriculture will improve, grazing will be extended, and manufactures and mechanic arts will flourish in a location combining so many advantages and inviting their growth. The improved highways will be additional inducements to the citizens of other sections of our State to abandon their usual northern tours, or visits to the Virginia watering places for a tour more interesting among our own mountains, much cheaper, and much more beautiful—a tour in which they will inspire health in every breath and drink in health in every draught."15 The first road that could be considered an adequate highway across the Blue Ridge, linking Buncombe County with the counties directly to the east, came when a company was chartered in 1840 to construct a road from Rutherford ton to Asheville. Six years later the Hickory Nut Turnpike was chartered, authorizing a road from Rutherfordton across the mountains to Henderson County and on to Asheville and the Buncombe Turnpike. These improved highways made possible regular stagecoach travel between the areas.16 The citizens of Western North Carolina still impatiently awaited the coming of the east-west highway advocated by Governor Morehead. But the waiting period was far too long, for it was not until 1849 that the General Assembly authorized the chartering of a company to construct the western section of the long promised road. With a capital stock made up of shares owned by the state and shares purchased by citizens of the counties through which the road passed, the turnpike company constructed the highway from Salisbury to the Tennessee line. It went by way of Morganton, Old Fort, Asheville, Waynesville, and continued westward to Cherokee County and Tennessee. A southern branch extended to the Georgia line. Thus the new highway was somewhat the fulfillment of Clingman's plan for a Nantahala Turnpike. By 1855 this highway was linking the western border counties with Asheville and the Asheville and Greenville Plank Road.17 During these years, too, western counties were constructing new, subsidiary roads and were improving others. Yancey County had a fairly adequate road from Burnsville to the Buncombe line, and in other counties roads were built to connect with turnpikes. But �318 / Chapter Eighteen the secondary roads in all mountain counties continued to be poor, often practically impassable during the winter months.18 By the time the Whigs gained control of the state government, railroads had made their appearance in North Carolina, and Western North Carolina joined in the clamor coming from all counties for state aid for railroad construction. Many leaders saw in the railroads the solution to North Carolina's vexing transportation problem, and the Whig party advocated a complete network of railroads. As early as 1833 a privately constructed, mile and a quarter stretch of railroad at Raleigh had been the means of hauling stone from the quarries on mule-drawn flat cars to the site of the capitol then being built. Following that successful venture, private capital had succeeded in building and operating two railroads. The Wilmington and Weldon was built 161 miles in length, and in 1840 it was the longest in the world. The Raleigh and Gaston was 86 miles long. But the cost of construction and maintenance of these railroads, with their iron-covered rails, was too excessive for private enterprise, and by 1836 both faced bankruptcy. It was then that the Whigs succeeded in inaugurating the policy of state aid. By 1845, when the state had actually had to purchase the Raleigh and Gaston line, North Carolina had spent (lost, the conservatives claimed) almost a million dollars in its railroad aid program.19 The building of railroads was recognized, however, by many leaders in all sections of the state as being so necessary to the economy of the commonwealth as to warrant further state aid to this enterprise. The question of railroads was the popular topic of the day. Their value to the state and state aid for their construction were themes debated pro and con by speakers. Newspapers also aired the rising controversy over state aid for the roads. Politicians envisioned railroads passing through the counties of their constituents. Many plans, both practical and visionary, were advanced for the development of intrastate lines, some running north-south and others east-west, but all with an eye to funneling the state's products to its eastern markets. Interstate railroads were also discussed, and Joseph CaldwelFs plan for a Beaufort to Murphy line was revived.20 Governor Morehead expressed the belief that such a line would bring products from as far west as Memphis through the length of the state to its eastern ports. It might even serve as a European market line for cities in California.21 �Whigs in the Mountains / 319 In Western North Carolina this cross-state plan was welcomed as the solution to its transportation problem; yet the region's first hope for a railroad came from a plan for an interstate line from Charleston to the growing West. South Carolina was profiting from the trade that passed south over the Buncombe Turnpike, connecting with the fine new road that Joel Poinsett had constructed along the ancient trading path to the Cherokees. Charleston, Robert Y. Hayne pointed out to his fellow statesman, was the natural outlet for products not only from the mountains, but also from Kentucky, Illinois, and Ohio—indeed, from all territory in the Mississippi valley. Moreover, a railroad from Charleston to this area might offer a political link between the new west and South Carolina, an advantage not to be overlooked.22 With such leaders as Hayne, Mitchell King, Joel Poinsett, and James Bennett interested in the project, plans progressed, and investigations were made for a route through or around the mountains. The choice settled on a line from Saluda Mountain to Asheville and down the French Broad, which had an easy grade of thirteen feet per mile, to Knoxville. The road would thus extend 107 miles through Western North Carolina and could be constructed, engineers estimated, at a cost of two million dollars.2* Following the pattern set for crystalizing public sentiment for railroads, delegates from the states concerned attended a railroad convention in Knoxville in 1836. Reports were heard from committees earlier appointed to make investigations into all the phases of such a far-flung project. Then the Louisville, Cincinnati, and Charleston Railroad Company was formed with Robert Y. Hayne as president. The plan was that each state would incorporate a company within the larger framework to build the section passing through its territory. An atmosphere of optimism pervaded the convention, and the meeting closed with an admonition to state representatives "not to suffer the work to fail."2* During the next few years enthusiastic citizens of Western North Carolina subscribed for stock in the company. They attended meetings of stock holders to hear reports of the company's progress and of the surveys made by the engineers. At such a meeting in Asheville in 1839 Robert Y. Hayne was stricken with a fatal illness and died. Mitchell King was then elected president of the company. The ambitious plans for the railroad �320 / Chapter Eighteen collapsed soon afterward when South Carolina refused to incorporate a company that would be a part of an out-of-state organization, and Tennessee followed her example. Western North Carolina's hopes for getting a railroad faded.25 That hope was later revived when in 1848, under the Whig controlled government, the state began the policy of issuing and selling interest-bearing bonds as a means of raising money for aid for improvements, including railroads. The following year the North Carolina Railroad, to run from Goldsboro to Charlotte, was incorporated with the state subscribing two million dollars and private capital sponsoring another million.26 The state later found it necessary to subscribe an additional one million dollars. The bill authorizing this road was a bipartisan, compromise measure. It called for the construction of a railroad that would connect Goldsboro with Charlotte by way of Salisbury. John M. Morehead was elected president of the company. Construction began from the two terminal points, and in 1856 the 223-mile line was in operation, opening the piedmont to the markets of the state. Almost at once its effects throughout that section and in the mountain counties east of the Blue Ridge were apparent. Freight rates were cut in half; prices of incoming commodities were drastically lowered. Farmers, able to get their products to market and at a cost insuring profit, raised more grain. A general air of prosperity came to the region that was once known as the lagging "back country."27 The construction of this railroad brought again into prominence the idea of extending lines across the Blue Ridge and on to the Tennessee border. Joseph Caldwell in 1828 in his Numbers of Carlton had pleaded for a line stretching from the eastern cities of Beaufort and New Bern westward to Tennessee.28 Now that plea was revived. Accordingly, the Western North Carolina Railroad was incorporated in 1854. It was to be the western extension of the North Carolina Railroad, and construction was to start at Salisbury.29 This railroad, which was favored by both Democrats and Whigs, was to be constructed in sections. The bill designated that each section was to be in full operation before any work might begin on the succeeding section. That clause included the selling of stock. The maximum stock was to be $6,000,000 and the state was to own two thirds, with one third raised from private capital in the counties through which the road would pass.30 Four possible routes were presented, but because of the absence of gaps in the �Whigs in the Mountains / 321 precipitous Blue Ridge, only two seemed practical enough to warrant surveys. One of these proposals would take the railroad across the Blue Ridge into Watauga County and along the Watauga River, entering Tennessee at a point thirty-three miles from the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad. This was the shortest of the suggested routes, 121.77 miles from Salisbury. Because of the extreme construction difficulties it presented, however, Walter Gwynn, the surveying engineer, recommended the longer route going by way of the Catawba valley and crossing the Blue Ridge at Swannanoa Gap. This route would necessitate a series of tunnels. From the west portal of the last tunnel the road would go to Asheville and from there down the French Broad River to Paint Rock. This line would be 186.78 miles long.31 Almost at once another route from Asheville to the Tennessee border was suggested. It would go west from Asheville to Waynesville and on to connect with the Blue Ridge Railroad or on to the Tennessee line near Ducktown. Both of these routes were later surveyed, and the advantages of each became the subject of much local publicity. Citizens of Buncombe and Madison Counties favored the French Broad route. Citizens of the western counties favored the Ducktown route, pointing out that such a road would reach the thriving copper mines of eastern Tennessee and would, as Morehead had made clear, open for Memphis its shortest route to sea ports.32 East of the Blue Ridge counties were contending for routes stretching west from Salisbury. Caldwell County had favored the Watauga route but gave up the struggle for that, demanding that the line pass north of the Catawba River. Burke County urged that Morganton be made the terminal for the first section of the Western Railroad and, winning its point, its citizens subscribed $100,000 to the capital stock. R. C. Pearson of Burke County was elected president of the company and James C. Turner was appointed chief engineer. Rutherfordton, which was not on the route of the Western North Carolina Railroad, looked forward after 1854 to a road from Charlotte. The year before the western division had been chartered, the General Assembly had passed a bill under which the Wilmington, Charlotte, and Rutherfordton Railroad was incorporated. Work on it began almost at once. As the project progressed, the company made plans to extend the line over the Blue Ridge to the Tennessee border in Watauga County where it would connect with a road fromjonesboro, Tennessee.33 �322 / Chapter Eighteen In the meantime, South Carolina revived its earlier plan for a Charleston to Cincinnati railroad that would cross Western North Carolina by way of the French Broad River, and it incorporated the Greenville and French Broad Company. It also chartered a company to construct a railroad from Anderson through a section of Georgia, to continue for a distance of seventy-three miles across the western counties of North Carolina into Tennessee. This line was to be called the Blue Ridge Railroad. By 1855 it looked as though Western North Carolina might have a network of railroads.34 It soon became evident that the clause requiring the construction of the Western North Carolina Railroad to be done in sections would greatly impede the progress of the work and therefore delay its advent into the counties west of the mountains. To the citizens of Western North Carolina this delay was both unwarranted and intolerable. For several reasons they felt that haste was imperative. In the first place, it was felt that the state would be unwilling to invest in two roads across the mountains and that contentions arising over a choice between the Western North Carolina Railroad and the Rutherfordton line would inevitably lead to a prolonged delay, resulting in the abandonment of both plans. In the second place, the mountain citizens much preferred that the road west of the mountains be constructed by a North Carolina company; yet, unless the Western Extension reached the area within a reasonable time, the South Carolina company would doubtless have its line along the French Broad in operation. As a solution to the railroad problems facing the area, the residents of the mountain counties began agitating for the removal of the sectional clause in the Western North Carolina Railroad Bill. Feelings ran high, with railroads an issue in the 1858 campaign. A bill presented to the General Assembly for striking out the objectionable sectional feature failed to pass. The reaction of the citizens west of the Blue Ridge was immediate and bitter. The editor of the Asheville News wrote a stinging economic declaration of independence from the eastern part of the state, declaring, "We have no doubt the people of the West will readily embrace this tender of a dissolution of every tie that binds us together as one people, and will henceforth regard themselves as having neither part nor lot in the internal improvement system of North Carolina." He went on to predict "that the people of the �Whigs in the Mountains / 323 French Broad Valley will never again ask for a connection with any North Carolina Road."35 Aroused citizens gathered at a mass meeting in Asheville and heard Nicholas W. Woodfin, who had led the section's struggle for a railroad, deliver a fiery speech, advising his fellow westerners not to invest a penny in the Western North Carolina road. Instead, the people of Henderson, Buncombe, and Madison Counties were urged by Woodfin and other leaders to purchase stock in the South Carolina road. At elections held in these three counties in the summer of 1859, each county was empowered to purchase stock in the Greenville and French Broad Railroad. On July 28, 1859, the officials of that road met in Hendersonville with citizens of Henderson, Buncombe, and Madison Counties to formulate plans.36 During this time, the construction of the first section of the Western Extension was progressing slowly, far more so than had been anticipated. The contractor was badly in need of additional state funds, but under the bill, these could not be forthcoming until the completion of that section. To alleviate this embarrassing situation, the General Assembly early in 1861 revised the incorporation bill, making the entire distance from Salisbury to the western end of the Swannanoa tunnel the first section. At the same session the Assembly ratified the Ducktown route for the line from Asheville to the Tennessee border, the route earlier adopted by the stockholders upon the recommendation of the surveyor. The act allowed for a branch road, however, to be constructed from Asheville to Paint Rock, but that could begin only after the western portion had reached Waynesville.37 With the prospect of a state-sponsored road reaching their area, citizens of Western North Carolina were somewhat placated. Surely one of the many plans under consideration would result in a railroad for the area. But the western citizens were again to be disappointed. By April, 1861, the Wilmington, Charlotte, and Rutherfordton road had not yet reached Rutherford County, while the Western Extension lacked more than five miles of entering Morganton. When the Civil War broke out, the contractor of this section left for the army and was later among those killed at the First Battle of Manassas. Another contractor was employed to carry out the work. But with workmen enlisting or being drafted and with the added difficulty of getting the necessary metal for �324 / Chapter Eighteen the rails, the work could go on only at a snail's pace. It stopped altogether before reaching Morganton. The Rutherfordton line ceased construction activities at Cherryville, and at the time of the Civil War only a few miles of track had actually been laid in Western North Carolina, none of them across the Blue Ridge. The early railroads in the state furnished conclusive evidence of the prosperity that would follow with adequate systems of transporation. But the excessive cost of railroads, even when partly assumed by the state, and their expensive upkeep made them financial risks. Those risks often prevented private capital from being invested in stocks of the incorporated companies or in state bonds issued to aid them. Then, too, as Western North Carolina painfully learned, railroad construction was a slow process. For those reasons engineers and interested citizens sought a quicker, cheaper way of supplying satisfactory highways in areas untouched by the existing railroads. As a solution to this problem some inventive person came up with the idea of the plank road, and in the 1850*s the building of plank roads took second place only to railroads in the interest of transportation-conscious Carolinians. The first of these roads, later called the "Appian Way" of North Carolina, was chartered in 1849 and opened in 1854, connecting Fayetteville with Salem. It proved to have many advantages over the old type of highway.38 A plank road was constructed by allowing the graded bed to settle and then placing over it pine sleepers or sills placed end to end lengthwise. Across these sills pine planks, from nine to sixteen inches wide and from three to four inches thick, were laid. Wider than the turnpikes, these roads were usually about eight feet in width, with frequent turnouts to allow for the passing of vehicles. With their firm beds and their two thicknesses of planks, they were all-weather roads, enabling the farmers to market their grain at all seasons of the year. Over them a team could haul a vastly heavier load than on the old highways. Their cost, compared with railroads, was modest, for the plank roads usually followed the old roads, whose beds could easily be put into condition for the sills. The pine lumber used was cheap, costing about three dollars per thousand feet. They seemed to be the answer to the needs of several sections of the state in Western North Carolina.39 The Buncombe Turnpike by 1850 was badly in need of repairs from years of heavy animal traffic. The company was dissolved, �Whigs in the Mountains / 325 and in 1851 the Asheville and Greenville Plank Road Company was incorporated, taking over sections of the older turnpike bed.40 Over the new plank highway the great droves continued until the incoming railroads in states to the north could take the livestock to market by rail cheaper than the animals could transport themselves. By the late 1850's the number and size of the droves passing along Western North Carolina roads decreased, although they did not cease until the Civil War and were continued for a time after the end of the conflict. But the plank road era was of short duration. Even without the destruction brought by war, it would probably have passed, for the life of a plank highway was from seven to nine years. By that time even the sills had to be replaced, and long before that, expensive repairs were necessary. These were often made by using crushed rock, a more durable material. In the decade before the war the Whigs, who had given to North Carolina its greatest period of internal improvements, lost their control over the state offices. Now fully aware of the prosperity brought about by the Whig projects, the Democrats by 1850 had shrugged off their cloak of inertia and were espousing the continuance of improvements. They had also become alert to the ominous trend in national issues involving the slave question. To safeguard the state's economic order, the Democrats stressed their old policy of the state's right, as opposed to the national government, to deal with all matters concerning its internal affairs. In so doing, the Democrats became the party of the South and of Southern interests. By 1850 the party was revitalized and vigorous enough to place its candidate, David S. Reid, in the governor's chair, and the Democrats continued to control that office until the outbreak of the war. They also gained a majority in the General Assembly. Within the next few years, the slavery issue assumed a larger place in national politics and, therefore, necessarily in state politics. As a result, many of North Carolina's political leaders left the Whig Party, which remained silent on the slavery issue, and joined the Democrats. Among them was Thomas L. Clingman, who found the rejuvenated Democratic Party expressing his own views of the slavery question.41 William W. Holden, later to play a partisan role in North Carolina affairs, also left the Whigs to become a spokesman for the Democrats through his newspaper, The North Carolina Standard. The Democrats now made a bid for western votes by a �326 / Chapter Eighteen movement for free suffrage, long desired by the small farmers of the western counties. In 1857 the movement crystalized into action, and by a constitutional amendment property qualifications for voting for state senators were discarded.42 This constructive and long overdue action won adherents for the party in the west. The party also gained followers as it took up its new role of sponsorship of internal improvements, including turnpikes, plank roads, and railroads for the mountain section of the state. In fact, even though originally planned by the Whigs, whatever highway improvements reached Western North Carolina in the 1850's came through Democratic sanction. As a series of slave measures came up in Congress, the feelings of both Northerners and Southerners became ever more bitter. The Southern men in Congress now came to foresee in the near future a predominance of northern Congressmen with steadily growing anti-slavery views. They recognized that the passage of each slavery bill into law was a defeat for the South. Accordingly, North Carolina leaders continued to leave the Whig party, which still took no stand on slavery issues, to join the ranks of the Democrats. A decisive blow came to the national Whig Party with the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill and the subsequent bloodshed in that unhappy area. Those events were followed by the formation of the Republican Party, pledged to slavery-free territories and to the belief that the Union was indissolvable. Many northern Whigs went into this new party, while in protest to it, many Southerners joined the Democratic Party. During the 1850's the North Carolina Democrats actively took up the issue of slavery, favoring the extension of slavery in the new territories and incoming states and denying the expediency of federal restrictions in the territories as advocated by some Whig extremists. In all these policies the Democratic Party was, as it had earlier been, the party of the slave-owning plantation East. But the growing tension throughout the nation and in the state made these policies, especially the state's rights policy, the platform of the South against the increasing abolitionism of the North. The Democrats now took into their ranks former Whigs who had become alarmed at the turn in national affairs and who feared "Black Republicanism." Many of the voters in Western North Carolina were still unwilling to join the Democratic Party, and a goodly number of them cast in their lots with the United American or KnowNothing Party, which formed an organization in North Carolina �Whigs in the Mountains / 327 in 1855. This party had no slavery policies and very little to offer in the way of a constructive platform. In its origin and character it was generally negative in its approach to the problems with which it concerned itself. The Know-Nothing Party centered its attacks on the unrestricted European immigration to the United States, which annually brought into the nation hundreds of thousands of economically low-class families from southern European countries. Thousands of these were poverty-stricken people who entered regardless of their physical, mental, or moral ability to be absorbed into the American pattern of life. A high percentage of these undesirable immigrants was Catholic, and the KnowNothing Party, which veiled its objectives in secrecy, was antiCatholic. For the voters of Western North Carolina this party was a poor substitute for the Whig Party, and when in 1859 the Whig Party was briefly revived in North Carolina, the Know-Nothings disappeared from the state. The mountain members then returned to their old party. Among them was Buncombe County's Zebulon Baird Vance, who that year was elected to the Congress on the Whig ticket.43 �C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N War in the Land X he presidential election of 1860 was a tense one. The Union was literally at stake. The series of hotly contested slavery issues had weakened the Whig Party four years earlier and brought into prominence the Republican Party, organized in 1854. Differences brought about by the slavery issues also caused the Democratic Party to split over its platform in 1859. The Southern delegates walked out of the Convention, organized their own wing of the party, and nominated John C. Breckenridge of Kentucky for president. The Northern or Regular Democrats nominated Stephen Arnold Douglas of Illinois. The newly organized Constitutional Party, made up largely of Whigs unwilling to join other parties, nominated John Bell of Tennessee, and the Republicans named Abraham Lincoln. Voters in North Carolina had only three presidential choices, however, for Lincoln's name was not on the ballot for the presidency.1 Chiefly because of the split in the Democratic ranks, the Republicans succeeded in electing Abraham Lincoln as President of the United States. South Carolina's reply to the election returns was prompt and emphatic. Considering the state sovereign and endowed with the right of self-determination, it seceded from the Union in December. Early the following year Mississippi, Alabama, Texas, Florida, Georgia, and Lousiana also seceded.2 In North Carolina the idea of secession had earlier entered political discussions. The Republican Party had nominated John 328 �War in the Land / 329 Charles Fremont as its presidential nominee for the 1856 election. Thomas Lanier Clingman of Western North Carolina was then a member of the United States House of Representatives. In 1855 he voiced his belief that, should Fremont be elected, the Southern States would be justified in withdrawing from the Union, and he outlined a plan of secession. His views were echoed by several other state leaders.3 North Carolinians knew that Lincoln had been active in opposing the extension of slavery into western territories. They also knew that he was outspoken in his belief that the Union could not be dissolved. The idea of secession was repugnant to most Whigs and ex-Whigs and to most of the members of the Democratic Party. As a result many state leaders were active in their efforts for peace. In February, 1861, delegates from North Carolina attended a Peace Conference in Montgomery, Alabama. There the delegates hoped to work out settlements of a compromise to the sectional differences. Nothing constructive came out of that meeting, however, and in that same month a Peace Conference, called by Virginia, met in Washington. Delegates from twenty-one states attended, including those from North Carolina. As compromise measures that might be acceptable to both North and South, seven proposed amendments to the Constitution were presented to Congress. All were rejected. Here and there within the state Peace Rallies were held, but they also failed in obtaining their objective.4 Among those opposing secession was Zebulon Baird Vance of Buncombe County. In 1858 Thomas L. Clingman was appointed to the United States Senate to fill the unexpired term of Asa Higgs, and Vance was appointed to fill Clingman's seat in the House of Representatives. He was elected the following year and served in the Thirty-Sixth Congress, the last before the outbreak of the war. Throughout the session he was a staunch supporter of the Union, and back in his native state he vigorously urged adherence to the Union.5 On February 26, 1861, in response to the Convention Act passed by the General Assembly, citizens went to the polls to vote on calling a convention to consider secession, but the convention proposal was defeated. Vance and other Union leaders were disappointed. They felt that Unionists would dominate the convention and thereby insure a negative vote for secession.6 But that spring the tide of public opinion abruptly turned. On April 12, troops of the new Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter. They captured it two days later before reinforcements could �330 / Chapter Nineteen THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. Young Confederate Colonels: Vance opposed secession, but his views abruptly changed when North Carolina was ordered to furnish federal troops. f(If war must come/'he said, (<I prefer to be with my own people, "He entered the war as a Captain of the Rough and Ready Guards but soon achieved the rank of Colonel in the Twenty-Sixth Regiment. �War in the Land / 331 reach it. Both North and South knew that this was war, and almost at once public opinion became unified. President Lincoln's call to arms included an order from the Secretary of War for two North Carolina regiments. In a speech delivered before the Andrew Post No. 15 of the Grand Army in Boston on December 8, 1886, Vance told of his own experience. News of this order reached the village of Marshall while he was "pleading for the Union" with his arm upraised in a gesture. When that arm came down, he said, it fell sadly by the side of a secessionist. If North Carolina had to fight, he pointed out, it must be against Northerners. 7 The days following the first shut at Fort Sumter were brimming with excitement and crowded with war preparations. Governor John W. Ellis called a special meeting of the General Assembly. He ordered Forts Caswell and Johnson seized at the mouth of the Cape Fear River, as well as the Federal Arsenal at Fayetteville and the Government Mint at Charlotte. Ellis then issued a call for 30,000 volunteers, promising the Confederacy to get from 1,000 to 10,000 state troops within a few days. He made arrangements with the Confederate Government to have these volunteers enter training as state troops, and he entered into an agreement with the Confederacy whereby North Carolina was to clothe and arm its own soldiers, the only Southern state to do so.8 In the emergency the General Assembly dispensed with the referendum and called an election for electing delegates to a convention to be held in Raleigh on May 20. These delegates, after organizing the convention, voted to withdraw from the union existing between North Carolina and the other states of the United States. They declared North Carolina a sovereign commonwealth and ratified the Provisional Constitution of the Confederacy. Thus Western North Carolina became a part of a new Republic, and to its mountains was to come yet another war.9 The war began with an outburst of patriotism and enthusiasm. James Green Martin was appointed Adjutant General of the state troops and was put in charge of organizing the military program and mobilizing supplies. Under the county units that he set up, the volunteers offered their services for six months. Military companies were hurriedly formed as both the state and its people prepared for what all considered would be a short war. Western North Carolina was active in these preparations. Even before secession, Burnt Chimney, now Forest City, organized a unit which it proudly called The Burnt Chimney �332 / Chapter Nineteen . THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The Battle of New Bern: Taking a prominent part in this battle was Colonel Vance with his Twenty-Sixth Regiment, which was largely made up of men from the western counties of North Carolina. This picture is from an 1863 drawing. Volunteers. This unit left for Raleigh on June 3 to become Company D in the Sixteenth Regiment of North Carolina Infantry. The unit formed at Rutherford ton, called The Rutherfordton Riflemen, became Company G in the Sixteenth Regiment.10 The first volunteer unit in Western North Carolina was formed in Buncombe County, however, by William Wallis McDowell of Asheville. It was organized prior to Governor Ellis' call for troops and was called The Buncombe Riflemen. On April 18 it left Asheville for Raleigh to become Company E of the First North Carolina Volunteer Regiment. On June 10 these men from the mountains, with little more than a month's intensive training, saw action at Big Bethel, the first land battle of the Civil War.11 On May 4 Zebulon B. Vance organized another company, called The Rough and Ready Guards. It left Asheville to become Company F in the Fourteenth Regiment. Later as a part of General Robert E. Lee's army, it fought brilliantly in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. Vance, now Colonel Vance, was later transferred to the Twenty-Sixth Regiment. He left that Regiment in 1862 after being elected Governor of his state.12 Haywood County organized a unit that became Company A of the Sixteenth Regiment.13 On May 18 The Henderson County �War in the Land / 333 Guards left Hendersonville, filled with zeal to fulfill the motto on their banner, "To the Henderson Guards: Follow your banner to victory or death."14 In August Thomas L. Clingman helped to form yet another unit in Asheville, made up of men from Buncombe, Haywood, Cherokee, Henderson, Jackson, and Transylvania Counties. This unit was mustered in on September 18. Eleven days later it reached Wilmington and became a part of the Twenty-Fifth Regiment.15 In Madison County Lawrence M. Allen formed a mounted company called Allen's Rangers, later to be known as Allen's Legion. These men became a part of the Sixty-Fourth Regiment.16 What was happening in these counties was repeated in every section of Western North Carolina as young men from the hills volunteered in county units or joined with men from neighboring counties to organize groups leaving for Raleigh or Wilmington where they went into training. During the next year this volunteer effort continued, and in 1862 two companies were organized at Brevard,17 while the Sixty-Second Regiment was made up almost entirely of mountain men. Hundreds of others entered state regiments already formed, while still others joined the armies of the Confederacy. In their first outburst of enthusiasm, some of the counties, like Rutherford, backed by their county courts, levied a tax to provide money for clothing and equipment for their own soldiers. Transylvania County went so far as to borrow fifteen hundred dollars from the Cape Fear Bank at Asheville in order to give each of its volunteers the sum of fifteen dollars.18 As these first volunteers prepared to leave home, the communities made each occasion a public demonstration of patriotism. The villages from which they were mustered were crowded with friends and relatives of the departing men. Speeches were made by prominent citizens. Prayers were offered by ministers, and in some instances the men were presented with Bibles. Flags made by young women of the town were presented with appropriate remarks. After these colorful ceremonies, weeping families and well-wishing friends followed the marching men until darkness compelled them to return to their homes. There the awful reality of war became a part of their daily living.19 Volunteers responding to the first call enlisted for six months, but the General Assembly in May authorized the calling of an additional fifty thousand volunteers for a year's service in addition �334 / Chapter Nineteen THE BARDEN COLLECTION, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Ad- Vance: Purchased for the state by Governor Vance through an agent, this sturdy blockade runner, named The Ad-Vance, made eleven cargo-filled trips into Wilmington before its capture in September, 1864. to the organization of ten regiments of state troops for the duration of the war. Although the state hoped for a short war, it prepared for a long one. Recruiting offices were opened in villages, and training camps and drilling grounds were laid out in the mountain counties. Mountain men continued to enlist in the armies of their state and in those of the Confederacy. Products of the forges of the mountains (and there were perhaps a score of them) were contracted for by the state, and new forges were established to furnish the iron needed for the manufacturing of rifles and for the various purposes of war. A private factory for the manufacturing of rifles was set up in Asheville. The following year it was taken over by the Confederacy, and Major Benjamin Sloan, a West Point graduate, was placed in charge. At first much scrap iron was used, but Major Sloan was able to get iron from the Cranberry mines to enable the Asheville factory to turn out, at the rate of three hundred guns a month, thousands of the best rifles made in the South. Later in the war the factory was moved to Columbia, South Carolina, but before the end of the war it was blown up to prevent its falling into the hands of the Federals.20 The issue of slavery affected the mountain counties very little, �War in the Land / 335 NATIONAL PARK SERVICE Cherokee Veterans of the Thomas Legion: To protect citizens in the western counties William H. Thomas in 1862 formed what became known as The Thomas Legion. Of its 17 companies, two were made up ofCherokees. This picture was taken in New Orleans at the last reunion of these Cherokee veterans. Those in the picture, as named by the son of Colonel Thomas, are: front row, 1 Young Deer; 2 unidentified; 3 Pheasant; 4 Chief David Reed; 5 Sevier Skitty; back row, 1 the Rev. Bird Saloneta; 2 Dickey Driver; 3 Lieut, Col, W. W. Stringfield of Waynesville (officer); 4 Lieutenant Suatie Owl; 5Jim Keg; 6 Wesley Crow; 7 unidentified; 8 Lieutenant Calvin Cagle (officer). for geographic conditons had made slave labor impractical. Only a few owners of river valley farms had found it profitable to invest in slaves. In the villages and on some of the farms a few slaves were used as house or stable servants, and the summer residents in Henderson and Transylvania Counties brought with them from the low country the slaves they needed to staff their estates. But the majority of mountain people had neither the money nor the need to own many slaves. The counties on the eastern slopes of the Blue Ridge with their broad river farms had more slaves than did those farther west. In 1860 Rutherford County, with a total population of 11,573, had 2,391 slaves; Burke County, with a population of 9,237, had 2,371 �336 / Chapter Nineteen slaves. Across the mountains Buncombe County (population 12,654) had 1,905 slaves, while Cherokee to the west had only 520 slaves out of a population of 9,166. Madison County, with a population of 5,678, had 213 slaves and 17 free Negroes. Other counties varied in their slave population, depending largely upon the area's terrain.21 For years the western counties had been aligned in interests against the eastern plantation section of the state and had opposed governmental concessions to the slave-owning planters; however, there had been no special movement in the area directed against slavery itself. Nor is there evidence that such publications as Hinton Rowan Helper's The Impending Crisis had exerted any influence upon the few readers it may have reached in the mountains. But certainly the men of Western North Carolina had no desire to give their lives for the cause of slavery. They justified their participation in the war on other grounds. Both their environment and their heritage enabled the mountain men to espouse the cause of a state's right to determine its own course of action and caused them to resent what was considered the insult of Lincoln's call for North Carolina troops. Not all mountaineers accepted as justifiable the causes for war as explained by the state's leaders and by the newspapers. During the Revolutionary War the mountain area had been a region of divided loyalties with accompanying bitterness and destruction. That pattern was repeated from 1861-1865, and since the settlements in Western North Carolina were more numerous than in 1776, both the hatred and the devastation were more widespread. Thus while the boys and men were reporting to camps to be enrolled in the state's troops, a trickle of men quietly disappeared from their mountain homes to cast their lots with the Union. Neighborhoods were thus divided, and men long friends went in opposite directions to enlist, some to don the uniforms of gray and others to wear the uniforms of blue. All hoped not to meet again until after the conflict had ended. The number of those joining the Union forces from mountain counties will never be definitely known. They had to enlist in other states, and their home counties were not listed in the records of their units. But during the four years of war there were many who took up arms against the Confederacy.22 Union sentiment was evident throughout the region but was especially strong in Henderson and Transylvania Counties and in �War in the Land / 337 the Toe River valley counties of Yancey, Madison, the newly created Mitchell County, as well as in Watauga, Ashe, and Alleghany Counties. In Henderson County in 1863 a Union company was organized with James Hamilton of Little River as captain. It became Company F in the Second North Carolina Federal Volunteers. It has been estimated that for every ten men in Watauga County who enlisted in the Confederate armies, one man enlisted in the Union forces. The ratio of Union soldiers was probably higher in Mitchell County, and in Gloucester and Little River Townships in Transylvania County more than half of the men were Unionists.23 Early in the war secret means of getting Unionists safely to Northern recruiting stations were set up and remained active throughout the conflict. They were known as "underground railroads," one of which took men coming from east of the Blue Ridge to Boone. Working in relays, scouts got them from there to the underground station at Banner Elk where they were taken on or directed to the Cranberry station or to the one at Crab Orchard in Tennessee.24 Another of these "railroads" crossed Polk County from South Carolina and linked with one in Henderson County that passed men through the Bat Cave community and on north to Buncombe County where they were aided on their way to Tennessee.25 Still another underground network along which escaping prisoners from Andersonville, Georgia, passed, entered Western North Carolina in Transylvania County, passed through Little River Township and through Gloucester Township into Jackson County, and continued on to the Tennessee line. Over these "railroads" went Unionists, escaping prisoners, deserters, and fleeing slaves.26 In addition to the men whose Union sympathies were strong enough to compel them to take up arms in its defense, many within the age limits of soldiers were too loyal to the Union to join the Southern armies but were unwilling to fight against their fellow Southerners. They were called Tories, the word used for the English sympathizers in the Revolutionary War. They avoided enlisting in either army, and when they were in danger of being conscripted, many of them hid in the hills to become known then as "outliers." During the first year of the war many families added to the worries and heartbreak of family division the growing distrust that came to characterize community relationships. By the end of the first year, hopes for a speedy end of the conflict had almost vanished, and life in the hills grew increasingly �338 / Chapter Nineteen austere. As the months passed, the weakness of a largely agricultural South pitted against a more industrial North became distressingly apparent. The South had few factories. It shipped its cotton and wool to England and to Northern industrial markets and did the same with its other raw products. Turpentine and naval stores were its chief manufactured exports. North Carolina, like the other Southern states, depended upon imports from England and the New England area for its cloth, tools, guns, railroad metals, and other manufactured articles. In 1860 North Carolina had 39 cotton mills, 49 ironworks, more than 300 saw mills, and 639 grist and flour mills. With the exception of three cotton mills employing more than a hundred workers each, however, these factories were small, often operating in connection with the owners' other little enterprises and often designed to supply only local needs.27 With the beginning of the war the state took over most of the cotton and woolen mills to insure uniforms for the soldiers, and even then it had to purchase additional cloth from other countries. The state could and did stress raising grain needed to feed its troops and to supply the Confederate armies. To insure the hundreds of manufactured articles needed for civilian and army use, North Carolina and the South had to depend upon two things: the establishment of factories that could begin rapid production of essential articles and the importation of supplies from other countries. The Federal Arsenal at Fayetteville had yielded 37,000 guns, and the state bought more from private citizens. It established several gun and ammunition factories, some of which it later turned over to the Confederacy, and the state bought products made by owners of ironworks already in operation. Increased production was encouraged in all the existing mills, and stores of meal and flour were bought from the owners of grist and flour mills. The state also levied its first tax on the manufacturing of spirituous drinks in an attempt to funnel more grain into food channels. It also encouraged raising more hogs and cattle for food for armies and civilians. All of these efforts, however, could furnish only a small amount of what was needed. In the end winning the war would depend upon getting manufactured goods from other countries. Whatever hopes Southern leaders might have had of recognition by Great Britain faded when Parliament passed the Neutrality Act in May, 1861. English ship owners and manu- �War in the Land / 339 facturers were willing to sell their products to private buyers, however, or to states in the new Confederacy. The major import problem consisted in getting the goods and ships into Southern ports. As one of the first war measures Congress declared a blockade of all Southern ports, and thereby set the pattern for one of its war objectives—cutting off the South from all sources of manufactured goods. Until this plan became effective, Southern ships managed with comparative ease to reach their destinations. But as the months went by, Wilmington became the only Atlantic port city still held by the South. It was thus the only port of entry for the sturdy little blockade-runners that were zig-zagging through the Federal defenses and worming their way around the dangerous shoals to discharge their precious loads. By the second year of the war the shortage of goods was beginning to be felt throughout North Carolina and the South. To supply the armies and, as much as possible, the civilian population with needed goods, civilian owners of vessels were daring the hazards of blockade-running to bring in machinery for the factories, hand cards, shoes and leather, cloth, arms, coffee, hospital supplies, food stuffs, and items of merchandise. On the advice of Adjutant General James G. Martin, Governor Vance purchased through an English agent a blockade runner for North Carolina. Captain Thomas M. Crossan christened it the AdVance. The ship was captured by Union forces in September, 1864, but it had completed eleven trips. The state also purchased interests in other blockade-runners, and the civilians sold their cargoes at an enormous profit after turning over to the Confederacy the share required of all runners. This profiteering was allowed because of the great demand for the goods and because of the odds against the success of each venture. At least half of the ships participating in this dangerous business were captured or destroyed by the Union forces.28 Governor Vance and his officials hoped to allocate the civilian portion of these imports equitably, but transportation was greatly hampered and by 1864 was completely disrupted in some sections of the state. Western North Carolina, having to depend upon cross-state transportation for its share, received only an uncertain supply. According to needs, definite amounts were allotted to the counties and stored there to be supplemented by local agencies and used for the relief of the families of soldiers. Wagons of salt from the Virginia salt mines and those from Wilmington were also sent to the western counties for distribution, but those amounts were �340 / Chapter Nineteen often meager. Some counties, like Buncombe, arranged for one of their own citizens to go east for salt at the expense of the county, and at times individual citizens took the long trip east in order to supply the neighborhood merchants. Even so, before the end of the war some farmers in desperation were digging up the earthen floors of their smokehouses to extract the salt deposited there over a long period of usage.29 North Carolina's military and civilian leaders were responsible for supplying men, animals, and food to the armies of the Confederacy, in addition to raising, equipping, and feeding its own state troops. Much dissatisfaction with the Confederacy tjius early arose. Dissension also flared within North Carolina's state Democratic Party, which was now the state's only political party. Gradually two factions took shape, the Confederate wing and the Conservative wing. The Conservative group became strong enough to defeat the Confederacy-inspired movement to eliminate the 1862 election and thus to retain as governor Henry C. Clark, a Jefferson Davis sympathizer. As a result, on the ticket offered the voters at the election were the names of William J. Johnston as the Confederate candidate and Zebulon B. Vance as the Conservative candidate for the governorship. Neither man campaigned, but the general opposition to the Confederacy's war policies and its recent war measures was reflected in the election of Vance, who carried sixty-eight of the state's eighty counties.30 Western North Carolina now had a leader in the highest office in the state. When the six months' term of the first mountain volunteers was over and the year's enlistment period for those volunteering under the May call terminated, many of the men from Western North Carolina, as from other sections of the state, reenlisted. Others had had their fill of battles and, after the first brave enthusiasm, returned home. This failure to reenlist and the decreasing number of men volunteering became fairly general throughout the South; therefore, the Confederate Government felt it necessary in 1862 to pass a Conscription Law under which men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five were subject to draft into the Confederate army.31 That law was especially offensive to the mountain men. They resented the stigma attached to being drafted; moreover, to insure a continuing supply of food stuffs, the law provided that overseers of twenty or more slaves on plantations would be exempt from the draft. To the mountain men this was evidence that, regardless of �War in the Land / 341 the speeches they heard, the war was based upon slavery and the protection of plantation owners. This law was one of several factors in the breakdown of morale in the mountains. Governor Vance also objected to the Conscription Law, although he had considered conscription necessary when the law was first passed. Its administration, he found, resulted in forcing men into the armies of the Confederacy at the expense of the pledged quotas of state troops. Conscription also resulted in unpleasant incidents between state recruiting officers and out-of-state officials sent in to man the Confederate draft offices. By the end of the second year of the war the mountain section was keenly feeling the lack of essential imports. Farm and household tools were now needing replacement, and no new ones were available. Nor could iron be procured for fashioning tools at the farm forges, since the forges in the area were under orders to send all their products to the state or to the Confederacy for war equipment. "Store cloth" was no longer on the shelves of the village stores, and the supply of thread and yarns had long been depleted. Whatever new clothes the members of the family got now were of the old pioneer material, linsey-woolsey, made in the homes. The state was asking for any products of home looms that could be spared, but in home after home the task of making cloth was becoming increasingly complicated as new hand cards, used in making thread and yarn, were needed to replace the ones rapidly wearing out. Coffee, although it had been carefully hoarded that first year, now disappeared altogether, as did sugar, prepared medicines, and the all important salt that preserved the meats.32 The women, with their vein of pioneer iron, were raising more products than their farms had ever yielded. The pattern of life in the hills was made even more grim as the men began to return too crippled or ill for further soldiering and too incapacitated to take up work on the farms. Even worse, word reached village homes and mountain cabins of sons, husbands, or brothers who had fallen on far-away battlefields or who were suffering in war hospitals. Some, too, had been captured and were enduring the horrors of war prisons. Mountain women must have now and then wondered at that first outbreak of patriotic enthusiasm. Also in many sections there was a growing animosity between the Union sypathizers and those faithful to the Confederacy, developing into a distrust of former friends and neighbors. �342 / Chapter Nineteen Because of the need of more protection for their citizens than the western counties had, William Holland Thomas in 1862 recruited what became known as the Thomas Legion. It was made up of men from Haywood, Jackson, Macon, and Cherokee Counties, with a few other counties being represented. Of its seventeen companies, two were made up of Cherokees who probably had been influenced by a visit to their region by Colonel Gideon Morgan, an Indian who had commanded the Cherokees at Horse Shoe Bend. The Legion was assigned to patrol and scout duties, which took on great significance as guerrilla warfare swept into Western North Carolina. It may be that Colonel Thomas' Legion did some mining at Alum Cave, actually a bluff overlooking a river valley. This place had long been known to the native Americans for its medicinal treasures. If the mining took place, the medicinal treasures were sent to Confederate hospitals, along with the herbs and medicinal roots collected and sent from Asheville and Wilkesboro.33 In addition to its assigned duties, the outstanding achievement of the Thomas Legion was the construction of the Indian Gap road. No road had ever been constructed across the main ridge of the Smokies, and to those entering the region early, a road over the forbidding heights seemed a permanent impossibility. Now a road allowing direct access between Western North Crolina and Tennessee was needed as a supply line and as a means of defense for the mountain area. The road began at Quallatown or near it and followed the Oconaluftee River. From there it wound up the steep inclines of the high range to Indian Gap and then down the Tennessee side to near Sevierville. Today sections of it can still be discerned along the Oconaluftee River at the Pioneer Farmstead Museum north of the village of Cherokee. Travelers to Clingman's Dome cross it at Indian Gap. Travel over this road was never a pleasure, and from a modern car owner's viewpoint it was impassable. Rugged and narrow and crude as it was, however, it was used during the remainder of the war. In January, 1864, Brigadier General Robert Brank Vance took his soldiers and equipment over it. In many respects this road, a product of the Thomas Legion's efforts, remains one of the engineering achievements in Western North Carolina.34 �C H A P T E R T W E N T Y War Comes to the Hills the middle of 1863 affairs in Western North Carolina were getting desperate. In addition to the extreme scarcity of needed goods, there was no money to buy what trickled in.1 Taxes were steadily rising, and they were many, reaching into every avenue of life. Some of the counties had earlier levied extra taxes to enable them to clothe and equip their own troops. State taxes had been drastically raised, and it had been necessary to levy new ones. Then, too, the Confederacy ever needed new sources of income in order to meet its needs; thus it levied taxes on occupations, on necessities such as flour, corn, oats, and drygoods, on salaries over one thousand dollars a year, and it placed an eight percent tax on all agricultural products on hand July 1, 1863. The Confederate tax that most drastically affected the mountain people, however, was the tax in kind. It required that ten per cent of all farm products above a specified exemption for home use must be delivered by the producer to the nearest railroad for shipment to Confederate warehouses. This tax tended to reduce surplus raising of food, and it meant transporting the grain and the vegetables produced on farms in the hills to the railroad at Greenville, South Carolina, or to the station east of Morganton. Such journeys would be difficult at best and sometimes almost impossible as women took over practically all the work on the mountain farms.2 That problem ceased to exist by 1864, for by that time raiding troops that lived off the land and bands of outliers 343 �344 / Chapter Twenty from the mountain recesses were taking not only the surplus but much of the food raised for families. From the first each county had had its militia, which was charged with local defense. In 1863 these units, which had been under county control, were disbanded, and Home Guard units were organized as a part of the state's military program. All men between the ages of eighteen and fifty years not already enlisted in the State Militia or the Confederate armies automatically became members of the Home Guards, and training centers were set up in the counties. John W. McElroy was made Brigadier General in charge of the western units and made his headquarters at Burns ville .3 In addition to guarding the counties against enemies, both those from the outside and those on the inside, the Guards were charged with the duty of rounding up deserters and renegades. The Home Guards were an improvement over the county militia units, but by the end of 1863 they were made up almost entirely of young boys and old men. In the counties bordering Tennessee they were unable to cope with the spreading lawlessness. Then, too, members in these Guards constantly decreased in numbers. Lieutenant Colonel William W. Stringfield, in charge ofdefending the most westerly counties, by 1865 had only some three hundred Home Guards for covering the area from Asheville to Murphy. This made it necessary to keep several regiments of State Militia in Western North Carolina to insure order, to protect property and citizens, and to render assistance to the Home Guards. Except for two small skirmishes in 1865—one at Craggy near Asheville and the other near Waynesville—Western North Carolina saw no battles during the years of the war. Instead, war in the hills took the form of raids, and as bitterness and distrust among the citizens deepened, personal attacks by individuals or small bands became frequent. There was also the problem of deserters and "outliers." Deserters from both the State and Confederate forces steadily and stealthily returned to the mountains. Some of them, satiated with the scenes of war, came back to work on their farms. Others were unwilling to return to their homes or having returned, found themselves unwelcome in their communities. They became "outliers." As the war went on, bringing each month greater privations and suffering to the families of soldiers, men, with no criminal intent, sometimes left the ranks in response to appeals from members of their families. �War Comes to the Hills / 345 Men from Western North Carolina served in every area of war activities and took part in most of the battles. North Carolina topped all of the Southern states in its numbers of deserters, but some eight thousand of these later returned to the armies. Since North Carolina had furnished more soldiers than any other Southern state, the ratio of desertion was about that of both the Confederacy and the Union. During the entire conflict about 23,000 soldiers and 423 officers from North Carolina deserted the army.4 Madison County, with its many Union sympathizers, was reported in 1862 to have some 160 deserters. Many of them lived at their homes although some became outliers, and all, in case of need, could get into the hills. The Shelton Laurel section of the county had been from the first almost solidly for the Union. In January, 1863, a group of perhaps fifty armed men from there went into Marshall where they broke into stores, taking salt and whatever else they desired. They claimed that because they were Unionists, they were denied salt and other commodities being sent into the county. After the looting, they set a few fires and ransacked the home of Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence M. Allen, whose Legion made raids against Unionists in Tennessee. Brigadier General William G. Davis, whose headquarters were at Warm Springs, sent Lieutenant Colonel James A. Keith and his command in pursuit of the Shelton Laurel men with orders to arrest all known to be of "bad character," whether involved in the looting party or not. He was to have the aid of the Thomas Legion, which was already in the county engaged in scouting duties along the North Carolina-Tennessee border. Keith's command rounded up thirteen of the renegades in the Shelton Laurel area. Governor Vance was then notified by Brigadier General Davis that the mission had been successfully carried out. The Governor's reply was to have those captured turned over for trial. Instead, all thirteen were shot and buried in a common grave. Upon hearing this, Governor Vance asked Augustus S. Merrimon, State Attorney for this Judicial District, to investigate the affair. Merrimon gave Vance a preliminary and then a detailed report in which the names and ages of those shot were listed. Two were mere boys—thirteen-year David Shelton and fourteenyear-old Aronnota Shelton. Another victim, James Shelton, was more than fifty years old and therefore beyond the age for conscription. The handling of this affair shocked Governor Vance �346 / Chapter Twenty as it did both Union and Confederate sympathizers throughout Western North Carolina. In a letter to James A. Seddon, Secretary of War, Vance enclosed the Merrimon reports. He closed the letter with these words, "I desire you to have proceedings instituted at once against this officer, who, if the half be true, is a disgrace to the service and to North Carolina." As a result, Lieutenant Keith was removed from command but was never tried.5 Another incident of looting (but without the loss of human lives) took place in Burnsville on April 10, 1864. There some seventy-five Union sympathizers broke into the ammunition magazine. The group, said to have been led by Montravail Ray, took what ammunition and guns they wanted and destroyed the remaining weapons. The previous day a group of angry women, wives of Union sympathizers, charging that the state had food for the families of Confederate families but not for their families, broke into a storehouse and carried off bushels of government wheat and other food items. Brigadier General John W. McElroy, who had moved his headquarters to Mars Hill College, wrote of the affair to Governor Vance. With only a hundred men under his command, all of whom were needed to protect against the raids of Colonel George W. Kirk and his volunteers, and with the Home Guards few in number, it was impossible, he said, for him to prevent such incidents. Besides, men who were arrested immediately applied for a writ of habeas corpus and so could not be brought to trial. He also reported that swarms of men, fearing conscription, had become Tories and that people were leaving the county.6 In June, 1862, with the sanction of his government, President Davis suspended the writ of habeas corpus under certain conditions. As a result, some forty persons in North Carolina were arrested and imprisoned at Salisbury without trial. On charges of disloyalty to the Confederacy, several men in Cherokee County were arrested by armed soldiers and taken to Georgia where they were forced to join the army. Of these, two were past the draft age. Perhaps no act of the Confederate Government so aroused Governor Vance as did the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, for it involved the right of a fair trial by jury for the citizens of North Carolina. Vance wrote letters of protest to Secretary Seddon and to President Davis. When he received only negative responses, he insisted that the North Carolina General Assembly nullify the �War Comes to the Hills / 347 Confederacy's decree by passing a law making it mandatory for North Carolina judges to issue the writs. After learning of the arrests in Cherokee County, he ordered the State Militia to resist by any means necessary the arrest of any persons discharged by the courts of the State. But there continued to be instances of misuse of the state law guaranteeing the protection of citizens against unwarranted arrests. By invoking it, citizens seized in raids could, and did, escape arrest to repeat their offenses.7 Governor Vance also objected to the seizure of private property permitted by the Confederacy under certain conditions, and he condemned the right given the Confederate troops of impressing food and horses in the areas of their operations at set prices, which were always lower than the current market value. Another act of the Confederacy that brought sharp words from Governor Vance was the pasturing of broken-down cavalry horses in counties where the civilians were held responsible for their food and care. This, he pointed out, worked an added hardship upon the women and children in a region where food was exceedingly scarce. Also, in these western counties the unsettled conditions were rapidly approaching a state of lawlessness, a condition which would be made worse by the act. The Governor declared, therefore, in a letter to Secretary Seddon on February 25, 1863, that unless this burden was taken from citizens of these counties, he would be compelled to call out the State Militia and drive the animals from the state. When the Confederacy had done nothing about the horses a month later, Governor Vance wrote a second letter of protest in terms that could not be misunderstood.8 By mid-summer of that year Western North Carolina, because of existing conditions there, was organized into a separate military district. Brigadier General Robert Brank Vance was placed in command of the area. In his address to the General Assembly at its 1864-65 session, Governor Vance told the lawmakers, "The western border is, however, subject to constant raids and the situation of the inhabitants is distressing in the extreme. Bands of lawless men, many of them our own citizens, acting or pretending to act under commission from the enemy, swarm into the mountain frontier, murdering, burning and destroying. Totally regardless of the laws of civilized warfare, they have inaugurated a system of cruelty at which humanity shudders."9 During the last years of the war deserters from both the Union �348 / Chapter Twenty N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Carson House: This house, built about 1810, had briefly served as McDowell County fs first court house. It was a stagecoach stop, and during the Civil War a small private school for girls was conducted in it, Emma Rankin, a teacher, has left a vivid account of the destruction caused by a unit of Stoneman 's raiders searching for Colonel Carson. and the Confederate forces and draft evaders continued to come to the hills. They were joined by roving outlaws. All lived off the land, and from their mountain hideouts they swooped down on valley farms, taking horses and food and frightening the woman and children. At times several banded together for these forays, but occasionally the raids were made by individuals. There were those, too, working alone or in small groups, who seized the opportunity of settling old grudges or striking at those considered personal enemies. Transylvania County was the victim of such groups. This county had been formed just before the outbreak of the war and had only a skeleton government. It was wholly unprepared, therefore, to cope with these bands of deserters and renegades that used its mountains and those of Henderson County for their rendezvous. Some appeared at the farms in uniforms, either blue or gray as they had been able to get them, and occasionally they posed as members of the Home Guards.10 In addition to stealing �War Comes to the Hills / 349 horses and cattle and stored grains, they sometimes murdered an official or officer. Among their victims were Robert Thomas, Henderson County's first sheriff, General Baylus E. Edney, and Huett Allen. William Deaver, answering a knock on the door of the Deaver home, was shot by a band seeking his son, Captain James Deaver, conscription officer in the area.11 The fine mountain residences of the South Carolinians likewise became their targets. Members of the South Carolina "summer people," many of whom were living in Western North Carolina the entire year to escape the dangers threatening Charleston and the Southern ports, buried their jewels, silver, and money. Occasionally a group of raiders would force entrance at one of the estates and loot the house, destroying the furnishings and taking whatever of value they found. On one such raid Andrew Johnston of Flat Rock, owner of the Beaumont Estate, was killed. In Polk County Dr. Columbus Mills was badly beaten, and in Macon County William West, a mill owner, was attacked by a band of roving outlaws and left for dead. Fortunately, his life was saved by members of his family.12 Distressing as conditions were in the counties just mentioned, they were worse in the northern border counties. Madison, Yancey, Mitchell, Watauga, Ashe, and Alleghany Counties were subjected to almost constant raids, while their neighboring counties in Tennessee were subjected to frequent raids by bands of Confederate units. As early as December, 1862, some officials in Yancey County considered it unwise to call out any more men for the State Militia or for Confederate armies. They felt that all those at home now would be needed to maintain order in the county in view of the growing intensity of emotions and the rapid deterioration of the people's morale, coupled with the fact that deserters were entering the county in increasing numbers. Alleghany County was forced to ask Surry County for aid in handling its local problems.13 Governor Vance was well aware of the tense situation in the area he had known since boyhood and acknowledged in a letter to Secretary Seddon that, "in Yancey, Mitchell, and Watauga the tories and deserters are in strong force." Yet he clung to the hope that tolerance and understanding might be used in dealing with the rising disturbances.14 All counties suffered from sporadic raids, but the raids most feared were the invasions of Colonel George W. Kirk's Third North Carolina and Tennessee Federal Volunteers. One of the �350 / Chapter Twenty policies of the Union was to take the war directly to the people and thus destroy their morale and arouse among them a feeling of futility for carrying on further resistance to the Union. With headquarters in Greeneville, Tennessee, Kirk's Volunteers were assigned to guerrilla warfare in Western North Carolina. Colonel Kirk was bitterly condemned by the Confederate forces and by Confederate sympathizers in the regions he entered. By them he was looked upon as an outlaw, and his Volunteers were considered ruffians and brigands. But he was considered by his superiors in the Union forces as an able military leader carrying out a successful, guerrilla operation.15 The chief targets of Kirk's men were public offices and records and buildings connected with military operations and military supplies. They frequently took horses and food supplies from private citizens, however, and in the villages and surrounding countrysides they engaged in some looting. In August, 1863, about 120 of the Volunteers crossed the mountains into Cherokee County. At Murphy they set fire to the courthouse, destroying the county records. Outside the village they took horses and mules and killed a few work oxen.16 In early March, 1865, Haywood County, which had been comparatively free of border raids, girded itself for defense as scouts reported the approach of the Kirk Volunteers, estimated to be six hundred strong. The hastily gathered local forces, few in number, were unsuccessful in preventing the invaders from crossing the Smokies and entering Waynesville, which could offer little resistance. There Kirk's men liberated the county prisoners and burned the jail. After setting fire to the home of Colonel Robert Love, Revolutionary patriot and founder of the village, they left the town. A small force led by Lieutenant Robert Conley of Cherokee County, a member of the Thomas Legion, forced the Volunteers across the Balsam Range, but they returned the following day by way of Soco Gap. The Thomas Legion succeeded in preventing depredations in the territory of the native Americans and the Legion, augmented by three hundred Home Guards directed by Lieutenant Colonel William W. Stringfield, turned the Kirk Force back at Soco Gap as they attempted to return on March 6.17 In the spring of 1864 a contingent of Kirk's Volunteers went through Watauga and Alleghany Counties, taking horses and arousing the hatred of the citizens there. In July of that year, Kirk himself appeared at the head of some 120 Volunteers, a few of �War Comes to the Hills / 351 them Indian deserters from the "Thomas Legion. Accompanying them as scout was David Ellis, a Unionist who had been active in the underground railroad in the region. After burning the home of a Confederate officer, the Volunteers crossed the Blue Ridge and went on to Camp Vance, six miles from Morganton. The hundred or more Junior Reserves stationed at the Camp were no defense against Kirk's men and surrendered. The Volunteers then destroyed a locomotive, some cars, and a few commissary buildings. They captured 1200 small arms, some ammunition, and took or destroyed about 3,000 bushels of grain. The Volunteers failed, however, in their main objective of destroying the railroad bridge across the Yadkin River. On their way back to Tennessee they took the Reserves as prisoners and took horses and mules to carry the food and goods taken from homes. The returning Volunteers were pursued the next day by the Burke County Home Guards and a group of citizens. At the overnight campsite of the invaders a brief battle took place during which Kirk suffered the only wound of his military career. In that same skirmish North Carolina lost one of its outstanding political leaders when William Waightstill Avery, at that time a member of the Guards, was mortally wounded.18 While most of the guerrilla raids conducted by Confederate units took place in Tennessee, there were others directed against Union sympathizers in the mountain counties. One of the most effective of these took place in 1864 when Colonel John C. Vaughn's Confederate Cavalry entered the border counties. This unit, ignoring the North Carolina law against seizure of property, took what they wanted and destroyed more. They came, as one staunch Confederate sadly admitted, *'seeking whom they might devour." In this unfortunate region where it was from the first inevitable that suspicions should deepen into hatreds, these raids by both sides in the conflict added fuel to the lightly slumbering fire, and the citizens themselves came to open battle. Those sympathizing with the Union met with those on the Southern side near the present Banner Elk in a skirmish that was later called Beech Mountain Battle, an affray in which blood was shed on both sides.19 In the following year Captain James Champion of Indiana and a small force entered Western North Carolina, rounding up deserters from the Union army, Northern sympathizers, and men who could act as scouts. Some local men joined the force at Banner Elk and, with James Isaacs as guide, the unit reached �352 / Chapter Twenty FROM BRADY'S HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR, N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY General George Stoneman: General Stoneman, shown here seated with his staff, conducted a series of raids during the final months of the Civil War. The counties just east of the Blue Ridge suffered much during those raids. Camp Mast, about four miles from Valle Crucis, during the night of February 5. The men were stationed in groups around the Camp. Major Harvey Bingham, who was in charge of the Camp, was absent on a mission attempting to get help needed due to the unsettled conditions existing in the county. At daybreak Captain Champion gave the men in the camp ten minutes to surrender. At �War Comes to the Hills / 353 the end of that time some seventy-five Home Guards appeared and were taken prisoners. These men represented about half of the local Home Guard unit since the men weekly alternated their camp service. The surrendering group was made up largely of boys and disabled Confederate soldiers.20 On April 3, 1865, the citizens of Asheville, so far spared the devastation of guerrilla warfare, learned that some nine hundred infantrymen of the Hundred and First Ohio Infantry under the command of Colonel Isaac M. Kirby were approaching the town from Tennessee by way of the old Buncombe Turnpike. Asheville had little protection against this number of men, and there were those who counseled surrendering. But to most that was unthinkable. Hastily assembling a group of volunteers, some of whom were home on furloughs, Colonel George W. Clayton led his volunteer troops northward. They met the Union army at Craggy, four miles from the town, at a place now on the campus of the University of North Carolina at Asheville. After a fivehour skirmish during which no Condederate was injured and only two Union men were reportedly wounded, Colonel Kirby's troops withdrew and returned to Tennessee.21 The best organized and most devastating Union raid in Western North Carolina took place in the last weeks of the war. Knoxville and eastern Tennessee had been taken by the Union armies late in 1863, and Knoxville had been made the headquarters of General Ambrose Everett Burnside. From those headquarters General George Stoneman, with a select cavalry unit of veterans, was sent into the North Carolina mountains for a rapid but destructive raid. His men traveled light, carrying only rations of bacon and coffee (which could not be obtained in the raiding area), extra sets of horse shoes and nails, and their fire arms and ammunition. They were to live off the land, but General Stoneman gave orders for no looting and no needless destruction of private property.22 The hand-picked cavalry reached Boone on March 28. There was only ineffectual opposition from the weak Home Guards, who lost several men in the exchange of shots. A few public buildings were burned, including the county courthouse and its records. Colonel George W. Kirk's Volunteers entered Boone and General Stoneman's troops went on across the Blue Ridge to Wilkesboro. The Volunteers did further damage to property. One contingent of the cavalry under Brigadier Alvan C. Gillem went from Boone to Lenoir where the men destroyed public buildings �354 / Chapter Twenty and a cotton mill. This unit then joined General Stoneman at Wilkesboro. From there the General swung northward into Virginia, returning to Salem, where little damage was committed, and then pressed on to Salisbury. When Salisbury was taken, the prison, cotton mills, government storehouses, and supply depots were burned. Detachments were sent to tear up the tracks of the railroad, and fifteen miles of tracks were thus destroyed. Railroad shops and water tanks were burned, bridges and roads were damaged beyond repair, and some railroad equipment was destroyed. General Stoneman's Cavalry continued on to Statesville. Among other buildings destroyed there, was the office of the Iredell Express. By April 15, the Cavalry was in Lenoir, and two days later General Stoneman left for Blowing Rock and Boone, heading back into Tennessee. Before that he dispatched a part of the Cavalry under the command of Brigadier General William J. Palmer to go south into the Catawba country to Lincolnton. Palmer attempted to enforce General Stoneman's rule of no looting or useless destruction of private property. In fact, in Statesville he ordered some soldiers to return articles belonging to Mrs. Zebulon B. Vance, who was at that time living in the village. But it was not always possible to restrain his men, especially those sent on foraging expeditions.23 Another contingent of General Stoneman's Cavalry under Brigadier General Alvan C. Gillem was sent to Asheville. On April 18 his men entered Morganton, destroying whatever might be of use to the Confederates. From there this unit went to Marion, planning to go to Asheville by way of Swannanoa Gap, but Confederate forces west of the Blue Ridge had effectively blocked that road. The Cavalry then returned to Marion and took the longer route through Hickory Nut Gap, arriving in Asheville on April 25. This unit was followed by the arrival of Colonel Kirk's Volunteers. Here the old gun factory, and a few other buildings were burned. The guns of Porter's Battery atop the town's western hill, the slight fortifications on Beaucatcher Hill to the east, and the Confederate flag on its pole were all captured. But little looting took place, and order was maintained throughout the incidents. Brigadier General James G. Martin with his command was in Asheville at this time. There under a truce made possible by the armistice agreement between General Joseph E. Johnston and General William T. Sherman, he furnished the Federal troops �War Comes to the Hills / 355 with a three-day ration allotment. The Cavalry left Asheville, preceded by Kirk's Volunteers. On the morning of the twentysixth, however, a unit of the Cavalry, made up of the Tenth and Eleventh Michigan Regiments, returned to Asheville. They took captive some Confederate officers and soldiers and looted some homes and burned others, including that of Brigadier General Martin and that of Dr. Robert H. Chapman, minister of the Presbyterian Church. Upon receipt of an order from Brigadier General Palmer, written at his headquarters in Hickory Nut Gap on April 28, the captured officers and men were released. Federal soldiers roamed the countryside during the next few days, however, taking animals and food stocks from the farms. Early in May Lieutenant Colonel William C. Bartlett of the Federal forces stationed in Asheville broke the proclaimed truce and went through Buncombe County and Haywood County "requisitioning" horses. On May 6 he was surrounded on the grounds of the White Sulphur Springs near Waynesville by the Thomas Legion and Home Guards under the direction of Colonel James R. Love. In the skirmish that took place a Federal soldier was killed; thus the final shot of the Civil War in North Carolina took place in the hills of Western North Carolina. Upon receiving official word of the cessation of hostilities, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas disbanded his Legion, and Lieutenant Colonel William W. Stringfield took his troops into Tennessee to surrender them. There he was jailed for a month.24 Whatever means of communication Western North Carolina may still have had with the outside world had been utterly destroyed by General Stoneman's raid, and news of the surrender of General Lee at Appomattox did not reach the people of the mountains until the soldiers returned. It was even then hard for the people, who for four long years had been the victims of a war that filled their region with bitterness and suffering, to grasp the fact that the war had ended. �C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E The Rebirth of a State yy ar ceased, but long months and even years were to pass before peace would come to North Carolina and to sections of its mountains. In April, 1865, mountain men laid down their arms at Appomattox Courthouse and at other formal surrenderings. They took the oath of allegiance and began their slow walk back to the hills. Others, learning that the war had ended, left their camps and started for home without the ceremony of taking the pledge of loyalty to the Union. Men long in Federal prisons were released and with aid or through their own efforts made their way back to Western North Carolina. Over all the mountain passes they came, weary of war and eager for the sight of the hills of home. Reaching their valley farms and their cove cabins, they found their waiting families somber and gaunt, the hardships of the past years written in their faces and stooped shoulders. The eyes of their children filled with horror at the sight of their fathers' uniforms. Sections of Western North Carolina lay prostrate. Many of the fields were untilled, and there was little if any grain for the spring planting. Tools were worn out or had been destroyed by the marauding bands that had driven off the horses and some of the cattle and hogs. In a few cases anything of value that the homes possessed had passed into the hands of raiders. Signs of the destruction of orchards and occasional charred buildings gaped like wounds on the spring landscape.1 On their own tables the men found the kind of food that had sustained them as soldiers during the last years of the war—bread 356 �The Rebirth of a State / 357 made of coarse, handground corn, cowpeas, perhaps sweet potatoes, and with luck, a bit of sorghum or honey. To some of those living in the remote coves this was the food they had known since childhood. Now even this humble fare was limited in quantity. Had a wider variety of foodstuffs been available, there was no money with which to pay the high prices brought on by the increasing inflation. That inflation resulted from the steady depreciation of state bonds and the even more rapid depreciation of Confederate bonds and money. With the fall of the Confederacy, its bonds were repudiated, and the State war debt was repudiated in October, 1865.2 By early 1865 the cost of bacon had soared to $7.50 a pound, and the price of wheat flour had reached $500 a barrel. The pay of a Confederate soldier had been insufficient for even one person; thus the families of soldiers had been, from the beginning of the war, dependent upon what they could raise. At first in the mountains that amount had been enough to supply the family with food, but as the men steadily left for the war fronts and as the armies of both the North and the South sent foraging units through the countrysides, want became widespread. Money, never plentiful in the western counties, had practically disappeared by the time the soldiers returned. Barter, which in the newer or remote sections of the counties had never been completely abandoned, was again the trading system in the hills.3 In the few western counties in which slavery had been a part of the economic pattern of life, the owners of large farms had suffered, in addition to their other misfortunes, a loss of thousands of dollars as their slaves were freed. These men faced the problem of arranging for laborers to plant and later to harvest the year's crops, but there was far more work to be done than could be accomplished by the reduced number of men available. North Carolina furnished more soldiers than any other Southern state and suffered proportionately more casualties than any other state. A considerable number of these men had come from Western North Carolina. In addition to those slain, many men returned home hopelessly crippled or incapacitated by lingering illnesses.4 Also adding to the labor pinch were some Negroes who sought out their new freedom and left the fields and their old quarters. 5 To alleviate the labor shortage, Major William Wallis McDowell of Asheville wrote to his friend, Gilbert B. Tennent in London, to investigate the possibility of arranging for Scottish immigrants to Western North Carolina. The reply he received �358 / Chapter Twenty One Carolina. The reply he received was discouraging since workmen coming to America would have to come under the auspices of the Emigration Society of Scotland, which was under government patronage. They would thus command higher wages than the mountain farmers were able to pay. The task of raising food crops and farm products that might be marketable became each man's private problem. Both men and women set about solving it in light of what they had and could do. In many sections of the mountains life for the people was again at subsistence level.6 Sections of Western North Carolina shared in the unsettled conditions that prevailed in the state during the Reconstruction years. The bitterness that had disrupted communities and unleashed the horrors of guerrilla warfare in the border counties continued to embroil mountain men in long-drawn-out lawsuits and murder cases. These consumed the energies of those involved and retarded the restoration of their sections to normal activities. There were instances of men returning from the Confederate army to find themselves objects of persecution in their own neighborhoods. There were even more cases of men released from the Union armies who dared not return to their homes. Men known to have been in the foraging units of either army or in raiding groups were almost certain to be the victims of mistreatment. Many were indicted on these charges. In Madison County, for example, trials of this type dragged through the courts, and many cases involved men who had been in General Stoneman's forces or in Colonel George W. Kirk's Volunteer Infantry. Some were of a more serious nature. One such concerned the murder of Ransom P. Merrill, sheriff of Madison County, on May 13, 1860, when the citizens had gathered in Marshall to vote on the secession question. Barrels of liquor had been brought into the town, and at least a part of it had been consumed by the time of the shooting. Merrill, a shouting secessionist, started a near riot during which a bullet he fired wounded Elisha J. Tweed. Tweed's father then shot the sheriff. Both the Tweeds later entered the Union army and the father was killed in a skirmish in Kentucky. When Elisha Tweed returned in 1865, he was charged with creating a riot and with murder while a group of others were charged with being accomplices. The trial was still in progress in 1867, and lawyers were getting affidavits from men involved in the broil.7 Madison County was not alone in these unfortunate cases. �The Rebirth of a State / 359 Trials on similar charges occurred in the courts of many of the western counties. All of them kept alive the spirit of disunity and partisan emotions. Added to the unhappy atmosphere thus created was the fact that the mountains in these counties offered hiding places for men afraid to go home, for bitter and disillusioned men planning vengeance on society, for refugees from justice, and for many coming for these or other reasons from other states. These men, riding singly or in bands, rendered property and crops unsafe. As the months passed, some of them organized into gangs. One renegade group—the Adair gang—roamed Rutherford County, stealing horses and mules and burning well-filled barns. They went fully armed and on at least one occasion were present at voting places, bent on preventing the citizens from casting their ballots. They were open in their activities and boastful of their depredations. The Adair gangsters were known to have killed a Negro and his family. They aligned themselves with whatever Reconstruction organization served their purposes, and they perpetrated crimes in the names of organizations to which they did not belong.8 In Wilkes County such gangs so menaced the region that in desperation citizens formed a posse and captured "Fort Hamby," the mountain hideout of the desperadoes. This counter attack cost the lives of several citizens. Those members of the gang that were taken prisoners were brought to trial, and the leaders were executed.9 Conditions in nearby Ashe County reached such a stage of lawlessness that the citizens appealed for help to the federal military unit stationed at Salisbury.10 Many communities throughout the mountain counties organized Home Guards for protection of life and property during the months following the end of the war. Confusion and unrest were- general throughout North Carolina. Govenor Vance was for more than a month a prisoner in Washington. Both the southern states and the Confederate government had been repudiated, resulting in a period of uncertainty. It was a new situation in American history, and it presented many problems and challenges to the national government. Mistakes in judgment and execution were almost inevitable. North Carolina leaders could understand but they clung to the repeated assertion that the federal government had undertaken the war to preserve the Union. They held to the hope, therefore, that the way would be opened with all �360 / Chapter Twenty One possible speed for the readmission of their state into the Union in order that it might evolve from its shattered economy a new and stable way of life. On April 29, 1865, General John Schofield, federal officer in charge, issued a proclamation declaring hostilities over and announcing the emancipation of all slaves within the state. He then divided the state into three districts, placing General Jacob D. Cox in charge of the western area. On May 29,1865, President Andrew Johnson issued an Amnesty Proclamation in which he pardoned all who would swear allegiance to the United States and its Constitution. In this he was following the program earlier worked out by President Lincoln. Whereas Lincoln had excluded six classes from the pardon, this Proclamation excluded fourteen classes of Southerners. Among those excluded were men in high civil and military offices in the Confederacy, all who had resigned federal service to join the Confederacy, and persons whose assets totaled more than $20,000. These restrictions affected leaders in all southern states; yet pardons might be granted to persons requesting them through petitions. The rather liberal administration of petition granting resulted in about 13,500 Southern men receiving pardons. On the same day that President Johnson issued the Amnesty Proclamation, he issued an order appointing William W. Holden as Provisional Governor of North Carolina. Holden was charged with calling a constitutional convention which would define the qualifications for future office holders and voters and which would abolish slavery in the state. He was also to set up the machinery for a November election for members of the General Assembly.11 The people of North Carolina were not pleased with the amnesty terms, and many leaders were opposed to the choice of William W. Holden as Provisional Governor. Holden's political career had been a long one, and as owner and editor of the North Carolina Standard) he had exerted much political influence throughout the state. Like many other leaders, he discarded the Whig Party in 1843 and joined the Democratic Party. He was an able and energetic writer, and his paper had endorsed free suffrage and state aid for internal improvements, helping to incorporate into the Democratic Party the policies once advocated by the Whigs. This endorsement won him the support of voters in Western North Carolina, who felt the need of state aid for highways and railroads in their mountain counties. 12 At the �The Rebirth of a State / 361 Democratic Convention of 1858 most of the delegates from the West had voted to nominate him as their Party's candidate for governor, but the eastern bloc had stopped that movement. John W. Ellis headed the Democratic ticket in that election year and won. As slavery became a national issue, Holden had urged the annexation of Texas and the protection of slave property by the national government. He had attacked abolition and free soil sentiments to the extent of getting a Free Soil University professor dismissed from the faculty for expressing a desire to see John C. Fremont, the Republican candidate, elected as president of the United States. Largely because of the editorial in the North Carolina Standard, the man was hounded out of the state.13 In 1860 Holden voted against secession. During the first year of the war his paper crystalized the Conservative attitude developing within the Democratic Party, and he had thrown the weight of his influence and the force of his editorials into getting Colonel Zebulon Baird Vance elected as Governor in 1862. As the war went on, Holden came to oppose the Conservative wing of the Democratic Party. After the disastrous loss of Vicksburg and the defeat at Gettysburg, he realized that the cause of the Confederacy was lost. He was then accused of sympathizing with, if not instigating, the rash of peace meetings held throughout the state.14 His attitude precipitated a break with Governor Vance, and in the bitter election in 1864 he opposed Vance as a candidate for the governorship. In the election Holden received over 14,000 votes but carried only Johnston and Randolph Counties. Able as he was, the various political shifts he made lost Holden the confidence of various blocs of voters. For these reasons many opposed his appointment as Provisional Governor of North Carolina, a position he was to hold until December 12, 1865. As mentioned earlier, the new Provisional Governor Holden called for an election to be held on September 21, for the purpose of electing delegates to a Convention to be held in Raleigh. At the meeting of the Convention the Act of Secession was repealed, and slavery was declared abolished in the state. Additionally, the machinery was set up for an election in November for governor and for representatives to the General Assembly. The Convention members also repudiated the state war debt, arousing opposition both in the Convention and throughout the state, for it meant the loss of most of the state's assets and of its credit, as well as the loss �362 / Chapter Twenty One of thousands of dollars to private holders of state bonds. In the November election Holden was defeated in his race for the governorship, and Jonathan Worth became Governor of North Carolina. Union men were elected as the state's representatives to Congress, and the Thirteenth Amendment was ratified.15 When Congress met in December, 1865, the members sent to it by the Southern states were refused their seats on the grounds that not the President but Congress alone had the authority to determine a state's readmission to the Union. In March, 1867, Congress enacted the Reconstruction Act, making it a law over President Johnson's veto. Under its terms, whatever had been done under President Johnson's plan was set aside, and the entire South was put under a military government. North and South Carolina were designated as the Second Military District and were put under the command of General David E. Sickles, who was later replaced by General Edward R.S. Canby. Each state was required to draw up a new constitution to be ratified by the voters and then submitted to Congress for approval. Negroes were not to be denied the right to vote and the General Assembly to be elected under the new Constitution would have to ratify the Fourteenth Amendment before the state would be readmitted to the Union. Jonathan Worth was allowed to continue as Governor of North Carolina, but his authority was limited since the military regime in each district was given rather full powers over its territory, including authorization to remove state and local officers from their positions.16 It was the military commander, General Edward R. S. Canby, who issued the call for an election of delegates to a state constitutional convention. Some of the state's leaders were not yet eligible to vote, and many others, thoroughly disgusted over the Reconstruction Act, did not register or if they did, failed to vote. At the prompting of Republicans who had come into the state, more than 72,000 Negroes registered for the election.17 A year before the convention was called, the Republican Party had been formally organized in North Carolina through the efforts of Northern men who had entered the state in connection with the various phases of the Reconstruction program. During the year the Party had attracted newly enfranchised Negroes and thousands of white Union sympathizers, together with small farmers long opposed to the plantation system. There came into it, also, some very able men, but on the whole these were not the �The Rebirth of a State / 363 Party leaders. At the Constitutional Convention meeting in Raleigh from January 14 to March 17, 1868, the Republican Party had a majority of delegates.18 The Constitution drawn up at this Convention was, to a large extent, modeled after those of Northern states. Most of the provisions it contained were progressive and democratic and forward-looking. Many of them have stood the test of time and are today in force. In addition to abolishing slavery within the state and repudiating the state war debt, it contained a bill of rights. It forbade the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus and upheld the freedom of the press. The new Constitution abolished property and religious qualifications for voting and for holding the office of governor; furthermore, it provided for a "general and uniform system of Public Schools" to be in operation for at least four months each year. It provided for a superintendent of public instruction. And finally, this improved model provided for the election of local officers by qualified voters, and it set the voting age at twenty-one years.19 A month after the close of the Convention, voters went to the polls where they ratified the new Constitution. They elected state and county officers and representatives to the lower house of Congress, and William W. Holden, now Republican candidate for governor, swept into the state's highest office. The Republican Party won most of the seats in the General Assembly, carried most of the county elections, and won all but one of the representative seats in Congress.20 The General Assembly, at its convening, elected Republican Senators to Congress and ratified the Fourteenth Amendment. Congress received the newly elected Representatives and approved the state's Constitution. After four years of war and more than three years of Reconstruction, North Carolina was again a state in the Union. �C H A P T E R T W E N T Y T W O Long is the Night he federal officers sent into Western North Carolina by General John Schofield and under command of General Jacob D. Cox administered the oath of allegiance to all county and town officers appointed by the Provisional Governor. They set up a county police force charged with arresting marauders, maintaining law, and seeing that justice was carried out. As might be expected, the mountain people resented the presence of federal troops. Their resentment increased when, in 1867, under the Reconstruction Act of Congress, a more or less permanent military government was set up. Almost immediately trouble arose as military officials began setting aside some decisions of the civil courts. Eventually a compromise was worked out. Civil authorities were to be allowed to arrest both Negroes and whites. Civil courts were to have the authority to try the accused whites, although no civil court could inflict corporal punishment. Negroes were to be tried in military courts only, and the military officials also had the authority to make arrests. The governor had the power of pardoning those sentenced by civil courts.1 Many, perhaps most, of the military personnel worked to maintain law and order, but some had no understanding of or sympathy with the people among whom they were stationed. A few did not rise above the character of conquerors chastening a 364 �Long is the Night / '365 defeated people. There were some who saw in their assignments the opportunity for financial gain and others who caused friction between the races. It is true, however, that some complaints against the military personnel were unjust.2 The Civil War began as a means of saving the Union; furthermore, after the Emancipation Proclamation, it had the added objective of freeing the slaves in the Southern states. Now the Southern states were in the process of attaining the requirements for readmission into the Union, and the slaves had been freed from their bondage. One of the difficult problems facing the bankrupt South was dealing with its Negro citizens, who had been suddenly released from their old pattern of life with no preparation for a new economic and social pattern. Except for a small number of educated and free Negroes, the race had generally had no opportunities to learn to read or write, and it had no funds and no land to call its own. Because of the increasing numbers of Negroes following the Union armies, Congress in 1862 established what became known as the Freedman's Bureau. Its purpose was to be of service to the Negro refugees in the army camps. On March 3, 1865, Congress passed a new Freedman's Bureau Bill, which provided for headquarters to be established in Washington with General Oliver O. Howard as chief. Units were then set up in all the Southern states. The Bureau's work as outlined by the law that created it, was to help the Negroes establish themselves economically through work, through an opportunity for education, and through favorable relationships with both whites and fellow Negroes. It was to aid the Negroes in securing employment, in getting land, and in establishing schools. Its work in North Carolina extended over a three and a half year period, and it accomplished much that was beneficial to the newly freed race. The Freedman's Bureau also served needy white people. The immediate problem was food. The Bureau distributed about $1,500,000 worth of food to needy Negro and white families. It gave vast amounts of clothing and supplies of medicines. In addition, as it could, it aided Negro farmers to secure land. One of this agency's fine services was the establishment of schools. It established or supervised day schools, night schools, Sunday schools, and industrial schools; moreover, it aided colleges, among them Hampton Institute and Fisk University. During the years of its activities in North Carolina it set up and operated 431 schools, which had an enrollment of more �366 / Chapter Twenty Two PACK MEMORIAL LIBRARY, ASHEVILLE Nicholas W. Woodfin: During the Civil War Nicholas W, Woodfin served as the agent for the distribution of salt from the mines in Virginia to the mountain counties of North Carolina. In 1870 he was appointed chairman of the legislative committee charged with the investigation of the railroad dealings of George W. Swepson and Milton Littlefield. than 20,000 Negro children. It also established hospitals which, its records show, treated some forty thousand Negro patients.3 The manifold activities carried on by the Freedman's Bureau necessitated a large staff of workers and administrators. This need brought into the South several thousands of Northern men and several hundreds of Northern women, who became teachers in the Negro schools. Most of these men and women were sincere in their efforts and served well. Many had a missionary zeal to bring the enlightenment of the North into the dark South. But few had any concept of what the people in their assigned areas had undergone during the war years. On the other hand, the North Carolinians felt that these men and women were interfering in a problem southern in character and wholly within the province of the state. They felt, too, that these outsiders were responsible for a growing resentment against white people by the Negroes. �Long is the Night / 367 Teachers in the Negro schools were especially disdained. The Freedman's Bureau was never intended as a propaganda or political medium, but its influence helped to draw the recently franchised Negroes into the Republican Party. In the counties west of the Blue Ridge there was little work for the Bureau, but in the counties on the eastern slopes of the mountains, with their larger Negro population, it was active. The Bureau was abolished in 1872.4 Growing out of the bitterness of war and the Reconstruction were several secret organizations. During the last desperate years of the war, men sympathizing with the Union organized in Tennessee a "society" that was made attractive and binding by its secrecy. Either before the end of the conflict or soon after that, units of it appeared in North Carolina where it gained hundreds of members in the western counties. It had been given the patriotic name of Heroes of America, but because its symbol was a red string, it became known as the Red Strings. It was complete with ritual, password, and oaths obligating the members to obedience to its orders.5 After the war the Heroes of America became a perfect instrument through which leaders could direct the actions of members and shepherd them into the Republican Party. Its membership was made up of mountain men who had been sympathizers with the Union (perhaps soldiers in the Union army), small farmers, laborers, and some Negroes, together with a few "blockade runners," that is, men making and selling whiskey illegally. For a time Albion W. Tourgee, one of the most influential and active of the Northern men who had come into the state, edited a paper called The Red Strings. It was intended to be the official organ of the Heroes of America. The organization was active in all the western counties with Rutherford County having the largest membership. There its activities were directed by George W. Logan, who had been a slave owner and in 1860 had been an ardent secessionist. He had come out of the war a Unionist, however, and had been made a judge. Using the wide powers granted him in that position, he was able to dominate the organization in his territory. At its meetings guards were stationed outside the building to preserve the secrecy of its proceedings.6 For the Negroes there was the Union League, founded in Philadelphia in 1862 to promote loyalty to the Union. It entered the South with the conquering armies. There it began organizing �368 / Chapter Twenty Two N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Augustus Summerfield Merrimon: Judge Augustus S. Merrimon of Asheville (<rode circuit" to the county seats of western counties. He deplored the state of the roads and the general ignorance he found everywhere. In 1870 he served as one of the three members of the House Legal Council Committee at the impeachment of Governor William H. Holden. the Negro branches of the League. At first the mountain membership included some white men, but as the months passed, the white members gradually withdrew. The organizer of the branch would initiate those joining into the secrets of the organization, which included a ritual, a password, a catechism, and oaths. Then followed a period of instruction in which the rights and political duties of the members were dwelt upon. Governor Holden was for a time president of the state organization and was succeeded by General Milton S. Littlefield. James H. Harris, a Negro, was vice-president of the clandestine organization. �Long is the Night / 369 After its introduction into the state in 1865, it spread rapidly until it was estimated that most of the male Negro population were members. Both the Union League and the Freedman's Bureau were accused of forcing their members into the Republican Party, but it is more probable that the members voluntarily became Republicans because of the interest shown them by the leaders of the groups. To the "stable" citizens there was much that was pathetic about the gatherings and motley parades of the men who had but recently been workers on their plantations. There was also a lurking fear of what might happen should these members of the Union League be supplied with arms.7 The general state of affairs was further complicated by the federal officers sent into the region to enforce the revenue laws. From the time of early mountain settlement, farmers had constructed stills on their farms just as they had built barns and granaries. They stocked their cellars with homemade liquors, selling whatever surplus they had. Since colonial days there had been regulations governing the conditions under which intoxicants could be sold at taverns and inns; yet after the repeal of the excise tax on whiskey in President Washington's administration, no restrictions had been placed by state or nation upon the manufacturing of spirituous drinks.8 But Civil War made imperative the conservation of grain for food purposes. Two laws were passed by North Carolina during the early years of the conflict, prohibiting the manufacture of all alcoholic drinks by banning the use of the farm products that went into their making. A tax was also levied upon imported liquors. In 1862 the federal government had levied a twenty-five cent tax on every gallon of spirituous drinks, and that tax had been raised from time to time until by 1864 it amounted to two dollars per gallon. When the Reconstruction was set up in North Carolina, federal officers were sent into the state to enforce this revenue law. The men coming for that purpose were roundly hated by the farmers, who looked upon the tax as a war punishment and a flagrant interference into private affairs. 9 The result of this situation was that the mountain men placed their stills in secluded spots not too easily ferreted out and "ran the blockade" in selling their surplus products. During these stormy Reconstruction days the attitude prevailed that, however extreme, all methods were fair in outwitting the revenue officers trying to thwart those making and selling their products without �Zebulon Baird Vance—Post-War Governor: of North Carolina for the third time, THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. In January, 1877, Vance became Governor benefit of licenses or taxes. Despite the tacitly declared war between officers and farmers, stills were occasionally taken and men arrested for violations of the federal law. Jn a four-year period from 1877 to 1881, more than 4,000 illicit stills were seized in North Carolina, and more than 7,000 arrests were made. That was accomplished at a price. In fulfilling their duties, 26 officers lost their lives, and 57 others were wounded. There were further casualties on the civilian side during these raids.10 By 1870 the excesses of the outlaw gangs, coupled with stories alleging the destruction of property (including the burning of two churches) had produced a condition of fear and unrest in the piedmont and mountain counties just east of the Blue Ridge.11 This unsettled situation gave rise to another secret organization, the Ku Klux Klan. This group was organized in Tennessee probably in June of 1866, and on June 5,1867, it held an anniversary parade in �Long is the Night / 371 Pulaski, Tennessee. Its original purpose was stated as being the protection of women and families and defense in case of attack. The attack, it seemed to assume, would come from the Freedman's Bureau or the Union League or the Heroes of America. Under three separate but allied "Brotherhoods" the Klan entered North Carolina in 1867.12 The Klan was a secret organization, and its activities were directed against members of both the Union League and the Heroes of America. Its leaders saw in it a means of maintaining white supremacy; however, many of the small farmers joining it were not concerned with far-reaching or philosophical objectives. They were led to believe that they were avenging atrocities committed by the newly freed Negroes and the white people who had joined them in the Union League or the Heroes of America. Klan members, along with their leaders, objected to the Negroes being given the political right of voting and the opportunity of getting an education. They readily accepted the stories related to them by their leaders of atrocities committed by Negroes. The Klan at its secret meeings made plans for revenge and the methods of carrying them out. Then a group of members usually masked and riding at night, "warned" the victim. If the warning was not heeded, Klansmen at a second visit administered whippings and might also destroy property. In some cases this or a third visit resulted in the murder of the victim. It is estimated that the Klan in North Carolina had a membership of 40,000 and it has also been estimated that in this state the Klan was responsible for 260 attacks that included seven murders and the whipping of 141 Negroes and 72 whites.13 In Western North Carolina, Rutherford and Polk Counties suffered the most from Klan activities and from raiders going about the countryside in Klan disguises. Recently returned to Rutherfordton from a newspaper venture in Asheville, Randolph Shotwell was asked to take over leadership of the Klan there. He agreed to the request although he claimed never to have been a member of the organization. It may have been too late for moderation. At any rate, Shotwell was unwilling or unable to control the lawless element now working inside the lodges and those carrying out their midnight rides. Several incidents of violence aroused widespread tension. One such "visitation" was to the home of Aaron Biggerstaff, a former Union scout, now considered a community trouble maker. His daughter saved him from an attempted hanging, and he �372 / Chapter Twenty Two N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Vance at Lenoir in 1876: Wherever Vance went during his many campaign trips about the state, crowds like this one at Lenoir greeted him and eagerly listened to his speeches. claimed to recognize some of his assailants. These men were arrested under federal warrants. Aaron Biggerstaff and his daughter, on their way to court as witnesses, were again "visited" as they stopped at Grassy Branch on May 12 to spend the night. Little known as these people were, this case created a tense situation. George W. Logan, Judge of the Superior Court of the Ninth District, reported the incidents to Washington. Officials entered the scene and arrested thirty-five of the old man's neighbors.14 Other incidents involved people holding more prominent positions. One of these was James M. Justice, Republican Representative from Rutherford County in the General Assembly. He had been a frequent speaker at the Union League meetings. On Sunday night, June 11, two groups of masked men rode into Rutherfordton and captured Representative Justice, demanding that he stop his propaganda and that he leave town. Justice later claimed to have recognized some of his attackers, and those he named were arrested. The riders on that Sunday night �Long is the Night / 373 also broke into the office of the Rutherford Star and wrecked its equipment. They arrested Robert Logan, son of Judge Logan, and J. B. Carpenter, owners of this active Republican newspaper.15 All of these outrages were reported to Washington, resulting in the passage of the Ku Klux Klan Act. It banned all secret societies and increased the penalties for the violations of the Fourteenth Amendment. It also established punishments for violations of the newly ratified Fifteenth Amendment and allowed suspension of the writ of habeas corpus in areas of disorder. Additional troops were sent into the state, and a detachment of soldiers was sent to Rutherfordton. There many arrests were made, and among the men arrested was Randolph Shotwell. In September he was taken from the Rutherfordton jail to Marion and then to Raleigh where he was one of the 981 North Carolinians indicted by the Federal Grand Jury on charges of participating in Ku Klux Klan activities. He was sent to a federal prison in Albany, New York, where he spent two years before being pardoned by President Grant.16 As early as 1868 the Reconstruction Assembly eyed with alarm the spread of the Ku Klux Klan. In October, 1869, William W. Holden, now Governor by popular vote, issued a proclamation declaring the conditions in Lenoir, Jones, Orange, and Chatham Counties bordering on insurrection. In January, 1870, the General Assembly passed the Shoffner Act enabling the Governor to declare a state of insurrection in lawless counties and to call out the militia to squelch disorders. He was also granted the privilege of hiring detectives. In light of the numerous 'Visitations" by the Klan that resulted in the deaths of a Negro office holder and a white senator, who was also a detective, Alamance, Chatham, Caswell, and Orange Counties were considered dangerous counties by the administration. Two of these counties, Caswell and Chatham, were declared to be in a state of insurrection. Orange County was later added to this list as the condition in these counties steadily deteriorated.17 In June Governor Holden asked Colonel George W. Kirk to organize state troops and to police the area. In Marshall, Burnsville, and Asheville handbills then appeared calling upon all those who had been in Kirk's Third North Carolina and Tennessee Volunteer Infantry of the Union to rally to their old Colonel and join his regiment. Recalling the havoc Kirk's raiding units had wrought in the mountains, distressed citizens of Asheville petitioned Governor Holden not to raise troops, and above all, not �374 / Chapter Twenty Two E. DOUGLAS DE PEW AND BOB LINDSEY PHOTO A Still in the Mountains: Until the Civil War no restriction had been placed on the manufacturing of spirituous drinks. Almost every farm had its still. After that war, federal officers came into the mountains to collect the liquor taxes levied by the national government. Farmers then hid their stills and protected them with whatever means necessary. Stills continue to be hidden in unlikely places as is shown in this posed picture. to put Colonel George W. Kirk in charge of them. The petition went unheeded, and by early July Kirk had raised a force of about 600 men, ranging in age from 16 or 17 to 60 or 70 years of age.18 Military courts were set up, and Kirk obtained from Governor �Long is the Night / 375 Holden a list of men to arrest, a list that had been made up by Republicans.19 The list included men from almost every official position, every age bracket, and every social position. Many were prominent men. Among them wasjosiah Turner, editor of The Raleigh Sentinal in which Governor Holden had been sharply criticized. Arrests made in these counties aroused the entire state. One of the sharpest criticisms was the refusal to honor writs of habeas corpus issued for the release of those arrested. In an attempt to restore order, George W. Brooks, Federal Judge, then issued writs of habeas corpus requiring all prisoners taken during the purge to appear before him at the next session of the court at Salisbury. To Governor Holden this constituted interference by a federal officer, and he appealed to President Ulysses S. Grant. In reply the President ordered Governor Holden to honor the writs. The only course left open to the Governor then was to order Colonel Kirk to produce the prisoners and then to disband his regiment. Following that, the Governor declared the state of insurrection at an end. Technically, the "Kirk-Holden War" was finished. Under pressure of the Enforcement Act passed by Congress on May 31, 1870, and as a result of the "Kirk-Holden War," the activities of all secret organizations gradually subsided.20 Another reason for the lessening of Klan activity was the 1870 election, which brought new Democratic members into the General Assembly. The Democratic Party had been steadily gaining strength during and after the Reconstruction Period; moreover, Holden, both as Provisional Governor and then as Governor, had lost the support of many politically prominent leaders. The militia campaign conducted during the elections meant his political defeat. At the December session of the General Assembly the Democrats were strong enough to present a resolution of impeachment against Governor Holden. Of the eight charges placed against him, the Governor was found guilty on six, which accused him of exceeding his authority in raising a militia and of making illegal arrests. Western North Carolina was represented at the trial, which lasted from February 2 to March 25, 1871, and was presided over by Judge Augustus S. Merrimon. Joining him as counsels for the House Committee during the proceedings were William A. Graham and Thomas Bragg.21 Neither at the impeachment nor later was Governor Holden charged with personal misuse of state funds or of using his high office for bettering his own financial fortunes. But certain �376 / Chapter Twenty Two decisions he made and certain acts of the Reconstruction government, while not corrupt in themselves, almost completely destroyed the assets of the state and also its credit. These acts affected every section of North Carolina. The repudiation of the state debts and the war debts brought widespread financial loss to citizens already suffering from the loss of slaves, property, and crops. This repudiation also closed every bank in the state and swept away most of the Literary Fund, a large portion of which had been invested in bank stock.22 With its state source of income gone, the state school system could no longer survive. Making the collapse complete, Governor Holden refused to recognize Calvin Henderson Wiley as Superintendent of Common Schools and declared the position vacant. The General Assembly promptly abolished the office and that of treasurer of the Literary Fund and turned what assets remained in it into the public treasury. By almost superhuman efforts, Calvin H. Wiley had kept the public schools in operation during the years of conflict and had saved the Literary Fund from being invested in Confederate and State war bonds. Now, he was forced to watch the schools close, and for two years not a public school in the state was in operation, from the first grade through the University. In Western North Carolina the little log school houses that had brought the beginnings of educational enlightenment to the hills stood silent, with sagging doors and empty benches.23 Even though Governor Holden could not be accused of using his office for personal gains, the government that he headed could be. Before his downfall came, every county in the state had suffered from the waste, extravagance, and in some instances, from the deliberate fraud of men in positions of political responsibility. Western North Carolina was a victim of the most devastating of all of these frauds perpetrated in the name of government. The debilitating state of North Carolina's government during Reconstruction had far-reaching ramifications. For example, in answering Major William W. McDowell's plea for laborers from Scotland, Gilbert B. Tennant in 1865 had offered the suggestion of industry as a means of relieving the economic stress in Western North Carolina. He pointed out that the region was admirably adapted for industry, and he thought the time was ripe for forming corporations in the mountain area. But industrial development was not possible during the Reconstruction days. There was little �Long is the Night / 377 private money to invest in business enterprises, and the lack of transportation facilities and the tense, post-war conditions discouraged outside capital. Roads and highways, neglected and abused during the war years, were badly in need of repairs, even of rebuilding. Projected railroads into the area had been halted soon after the outbreak of the war. In 1865 stagecoaches were again in use, although they were frequently delayed by the highway conditions. Mail service, completely abandoned in 1861, was also resumed, but it was slow and uncertain.24 At the close of the war, the railroads seized by the federal government were returned to the state practically unfit for use. Lack of equipment and materials needed for repairs— even spikes—crippled the efficiency of those lines kept in the hands of the state. Both Federal and Confederate armies had destroyed bridges, water tanks, shops, cars, and rails. The state and Confederate debts owed the railroads could never be collected, and the sinking funds were almost a total loss. Damage claims against the roads took most of the remaining assets; yet if the railroads were to function, vast amounts would have to be spent on repairs and new equipment.25 In spite of the bleak outlook, the people of Western North Carolina still looked forward to the extension of the railroad over the mountains. Stoneman's raiders had seriously damaged and in some places utterly destroyed the completed section of the Western North Carolina Railroad running from Salisbury to Icard Station east of Morganton. In 1865 this railroad had only three engines, one usable passenger car, and a small number of freight cars. During the summer of that year temporary repairs made it possible to provide three trips per week over the line. By 1869 there was daily service.26 At a meeting in Morganton in 1868 plans were revived for extending the line westward. By this time a series of encouraging legislative acts relating to the Western North Carolina Railroad had been passed. The Assembly repealed the old clause on sectional construction and authorized the state to subscribe two thirds of the capital stock after the remaining one third had been subscribed by private capital. The line was divided into two divisions, with Asheville the line of separation. The Western Division was to include both the Ducktown route and the Paint Rock route. The Buncombe Turnpike Company was empowered to grant the necessary right-of-way along the French Broad River. Each division was to be organized into a new company, �378 / Chapter Twenty Two possessing a capital stock of $6,000,000.27 In 1867 contracts were let for that section of the Eastern Division between Morganton and Old Fort and in the following year for that from Old Fort to the western end of the projected Swannanoa tunnel. George W. Swepson was made president of the company that was duly formed for constructing the western road. When the required $2,000,000 of stock had been subscribed by citizens, Swepson let the contract for the Paint Rock branch to Samuel Tate and the longer Ducktown route to General Milton S. Littlefield. All of this Swepson reported to Governor Holden, preparatory to receiving the state's bonds for its pledged $4,000,000. During the next two years, Swepson and Littlefield engineered a fraud for which Western North Carolina paid a high price.28 General Milton Littlefield had come into North Carolina during the Civil War and at its close had made his presence felt as a banker in Raleigh. George W. Swepson was a native of the state. He too, was a banker and through the influence of Governor Holden was granted political favors, including the presidency of the Western North Carolina Railroad.29 These two men formed the nucleus of a small group of opportunists who used not only the Western North Carolina Railroad, but eastern lines as well as a means of funneling money from the state treasury and from private capital into their own pockets. General Littlefield's role was that of a lobbyist. He bribed members of the General Assembly to pass laws favorable to Swepson's railroad interests, and he bribed attorneys to secure decisions favorable to Swepson. It has been estimated that more than $333,000 were paid out in bribe money coming from the illegal sale of bonds intrusted to George Swepson.30 During the year of Swepson's presidency, little actual work was done on the roadbed of the Western Division. Because of a rising tide of complaints, Swepson, as was permitted under the original contracts, relet contracts for a 45-mile link of the Paint Rock branch and a 55-mile link on the Ducktown road. Some grading was done on both of these stretches, most of which was useless by the time the road was actually constructed. At a Director's meeting in Asheville in 1869, Swepson, using a complaint of excessive criticism as his excuse, resigned as president of the company. General Littlefield was then given that position. He promised to push the work on the road, but by that time there was little left with which to pay contractors and workmen.31 �Long is the Night / 379 In March, 1870, a legislative committee was appointed to investigate Swepson's widespread railroad affairs. With Nicholas W. Woodfin of Asheville as chairman, this committee found the transactions of both Swepson and Littlefield so involved that they were never able to clarify all of them. Swepson was arrested and for a time was held in Raleigh, and Littlefield was finally located in London. Upon orders of the General Assembly, the committee tried to retrieve what it could by making arrangements with the two men individually for certain settlements. These yielded little, however, since Littlefield made no attempt to honor his agreements and the Florida railroad stock which was put up as security by Swepson could not be collected because of a previously given lien on it. Of the millions of dollars worth of state bonds that disappeared, the committee was able to collect only $295,876.26. The General Assembly repealed the railroad appropriation bills of 1868 and required all unsold bonds returned to the State Treasurer. Later, all the bonds originally issued to Swepson were repudiated. Because of this scandal, the state debt rose from $15,000,000 to more than $28,000,000. Out of that vast fund the counties west of the Blue Ridge got two short strips of graded roadbed.32 Meantime, however, work on the Eastern Division had progressed steadily, and late in 1869 the section from Morganton to Old Fort was ready for use. The "Iron Horse" finally puffed its way into the town where the fort built by the pioneers once stood guard. Two years later much of the work of grading was completed on the section between Old Fort and the projected Swannanoa tunnel. Grading work was also in progress on the section westward toward Asheville. By 1871 the Eastern Division, although free from corruption, was in serious financial straits, but it refused to purchase the Western Division offered it at a foreclosure price. Four years later, on June 22, 1876, the Western North Carolina Railroad was put up for sale and was purchased for the state by Augustus S. Merrimon. Again the people of Western North Carolina dared to hope for a railroad across their mountains to the Tennessee border. The Swepson-Littlefield scandal broke about the time of the "Kirk-Holden War" and may have been a factor in the Governor's impeachment. In 1874 the Democrats took full control of the General Assembly, and in that year many of the Federal troops were withdrawn. By 1876 the Reconstruction days were over. �C H A P T E R T W E N T Y T H R E E Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains the Reconstruction days, with their high taxes, their unrest, and their secret organizations, hundreds of peace-loving men and women said goodbye to their mountains and joined the thousands of fellow North Carolinians leaving for new homes in the beckoning West. Discouraged over conditions in their native state, they sought, as had their forebears in coming to the mountains, a place where they and their children might live in peace and might prosper. But many of the veterans, discontented with post-war conditions or preferring the life of woodmen, did not leave the state. Instead, they moved west into the sparsely settled sections of their own or nearby counties. They joined the small number of hardy pioneers who had preceded them and were joined by those coming from farther east. As a result, during this period Western North Carolina gained two new county governments.1 In 1871 Swain County was formed from the western parts of Jackson and Macon Counties. Quite appropriately it was named for David Lowery Swain, the state's first Governor from Western North Carolina. In this new county was one of North Carolina's last great uninhabited areas. Its wild and magnificently forested mountains culminated in the lofty Smokies, along whose crest runs the dividing line between North Carolina and Tennessee. It was in this region that Tsali and his band took their last stand against the encroaching white man. 380 �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 381 The bill for the formation of the county passed the General Assembly on February 24, 1871, and the commissioners met for their first meeting at Cold Springs Church. A tiny settlement on the banks of the Tuckaseigee River, along which Indian villages had once flourished, was selected as the county seat. The following year a two-story courthouse was constructed there, which also served as a school building and a church. The village was known as Charleston, but when it was incorporated in 1887, the name was changed to Bryson City, honoring Thaddeus Dillard Bryson, through whose efforts the county had been formed.2 When, years later, the Smoky Mountain National Park was formed, approximately two thirds of the area of Swain County were transferred by North Carolina to the Federal Government. Its lands were also taken for the T V A project at Fontana. For a quarter of a century after its organization citizens of the county, except those in the village of Bryson City, lived the lives of mountain pioneers, repeating the farmer-woodsman type of life practiced by their forebears. It was not until the mid 1880's that a railroad would pass through the county on its way to Tennessee. This would link Swain County with the counties farther east and would foreshadow the coming of industries to be followed by a slowly changing pattern of life. In 1872 the second of these westernmost counties was formed from the northern section of Cherokee County. It was given the name of Graham, in honor of William A. Graham, who as a young Whig member of the General Assembly had advocated Murphey's reform measures, including railroads for the western section of the state. Graham's later political career had included a seat in the United States Senate, the governorship of his state, and the post of Secretary of Navy. The village of Robbinsville, the last home of Junaluska, was selected as the county seat and a courthouse was there erected. Like Swain to the east of it, Graham is an area of mountains with only a small amount of its land suitable for farming. Its first citizens combined hunting with working their hillside farms in sheltered coves. This county, too, borders Tennessee and reaches its highest altitude in the Unicoi Range that is shared by the two states.3 In spite of the dissatisfaction and unrest of the people in this Reconstruction period, thousands of men and women in every county in Western North Carolina remained on their farms. Looking for a better future as they quietly repaired the damages wrought by the war, these tenacious people planted and harvested �382 / Chapter Twenty Three ! ij: . ,...." ?J*B-^ *5l5:^j^2i?J'!<«iSI?'V*'W€ll: ,* . 5'f 1 " •;. 'j*?' - '"" •~i'?9ii?f? ; *J^f'fw^i '. ; ' ; '??^ "' z!¥r^'.-f'TV-js^KJL'"st*'-/ : . �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 383 ILLUSTRATED MAP BY AURION PROCTOR IN THE RAILROAD MAGAZINE, DEC., 1943 The Railroad Crosses the Blue Ridge: Spanning the Blue Ridge with bands of steel was a constant contest between determined men and resisting mountains. Between Old Fort and Ridgecrest, a distance of 3.4 miles as the crow flies, the curving tracks made 10 complete circles and covered 12 miles. w-v,': .-i'.!=•:'*;"." ***••*: �384 / Chapter Twenty Three their crops and built up their herds of cattle, horses, and hogs. Under the old county system main highways were gradually made passable again. Once more in the autumn months clouds of dust billowed over them as the noisy droves of animals made their way to southern markets. Again the stand keepers bought the farmers' corn and furnished them with supplies in return. But compared with the pre-war droves, these tramping animals were few in number, for neither the South Carolinians nor the freed Negroes on the plantations could now afford to "eat high off the hog." Then, too, railroads were pushing westward resulting in fewer tramping animals from states to the north.4 Forges were once more turning out tools as well as iron bars that could be fashioned into needed articles at the home forges. The water-powered mills continued grinding the farmers' grain into flour and meal, and new cards were now available, making the housewife's work easier. On winter days with a rhythmic thumping of her loom she turned out the coverlets and yards of linsey-woolsey that made her family comfortable. The traveling cobbler resumed his rounds, working up the tanned leather into sturdy shoes that ranged in size from the miniature ones for the toddlers to the boots large enough and strong enough to endure a man's tramping in all kinds of weather over the fields and hills and through the woods. Returning ministers opened many of the closed "church houses," and "preachings," "singings," "cemetery workings," and family gatherings gave a sense of restored normal living to the mountain communities. Gradually, too, a sense of security returned. With the exposure of the government excesses and scandals, resulting in a Conservative majority in the General Assembly and the impeachment of Governor Holden, many of the carpetbaggers left the state. The federal enforcement of the Ku Klux Klan Law subdued the activities of that organization as well as those of the Union League and the Red Strings, allowing for the restoration of law and order. In 1875 Western North Carolina sent its quota of delegates to the Constitutional Convention called by the General Assembly. This Convention, made up of an equal number of Democrats and Republicans and three Independent members, revised the 1868 Constitution by the addition of some thirty amendments. Among the changes was one by which the county justices of the peace were to be appointed by the General Assembly. The number of Supreme Court Judges was reduced from five to three, and the �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 385 number of Superior Court Judges from twelve to nine. Negro and white schools were to be separately but equally maintained, and secret political societies were banned.5 In 1876 the pre-war spirit of political fervor again sprang into life throughout the mountain area, as it did everywhere in the state. Zebulon Baird Vance, Western North Carolina's favorite son and North Carolina's honored war-time Governor, was again a candidate for the state's highest office. He represented the Conservatives, who earlier had affiliated with the national Democratic Party. His opponent was Thomas Settle of Rockingham County. Settle was a man of recognized ability and integrity and was a former Supreme Court Judge of North Carolina. The campaign was carefully planned by both party organizations, and Vance and Settle toured the state together and faced each other on open-air platforms. Their main speeches lasted an hour and a half, after which they refuted and ridiculed each other's claims in half hour rebuttals. Each man interspersed his speeches with jokes, anecdotes, and jibes at the expense of his opponent. The people of Western North Carolina crowded into the county seats for these political rallies. Mountain-bred Zebulon Baird Vance spoke the language of the mountain people. Hundreds had heard him in earlier campaigns, and there were those who had been in his regiment in the early part of the war. They knew that nowhere was his equal in clear, forceful thinking and speaking, in hilarious story-telling, and in witty rebuttal. So it was that Rutherfordton, boasting a population of slightly more than 1,000, overflowed with a crowd of more than 4,000 when Vance and Settle appeared in the village.6 On August 3, 1876, the farmers of Mitchell County, many of whom had fought each other through four years of war (and had continued to do so in trials and law suits and feuds during the troubled years that had followed) jostled each other along the roads and trails leading into Bakersville. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they listened spell-bound to the verbal battle between Vance and Settle. The town had prepared for the rally and was gala with banners made by the women and strung across the street. Processions of party members formed and, led by their musicians, marched out of the village to meet their respective candidates and to escort them with proper fanfare to the rallying place.7 Never had this border county witnessed such an assemblage, and political fervor mounted as each candidate aimed �386 / Chapter Twenty Three N. C, DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Hydraulic Work: In the absence of explosives such as dynamite, railroad workers poured water over heated rocks to crack away jutting ledges. his barbs and shafts at vulnerable spots in his opponent's arguments. Similar rallies were held in other Western North Carolina towns, and perhaps nowhere in the state were the election returns more eagerly awaited than in the western counties where a man's Republican vote might be offset by his neighbor's Democratic ballot. With the election of Vance by a comfortable if not large majority, the Democrats were once more in full control of North Carolina, and Western North Carolina again had a man in the governor's chair. The carpetbag rule was over, and in 1875 federal troops were withdrawn from the state. The mountain people, �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 387 even those who had cast their votes for Settle, now hoped for economic recovery. Both the Governor and the General Assembly were concerned with economy measures that would inspire confidence. They were also eager to fulfill campaign pledges of reduced taxes, but at the same time two projects were recognized as worthy of state aid and demanding immediate attention. One was the westward extension of railroads; the other was the acute problem of public education. The Constitution of 1868 made provision for a state system of schools that would furnish free education to children and young people between the ages of six and twenty-one. Primary schools were to be operated for at least four months each year.8 But little had been done to carry out these provisions, and for two years all schools in the state were closed. In 1870 in North Carolina fifty per cent of all citizens over ten years of age were illiterate.9 In his 1872 report to Alexander Mclver, State Superintendent of Instruction, Haywood's county official described the school conditions in Western North Carolina when he penned this dismal statement: "Our school system is a failure."10 Many factors combined to counteract the efforts to reopen and to maintain the public schools. The basic one was lack of funds. The remaining assets of the old Literary Fund had been diverted to other purposes, and the appropriation made by the General Assembly in 1869 was never paid.11 In 1870 the State Supreme Court declared unconstitutional a clause in the state law providing for local school taxes. New and more effective school laws were from time to time passed, but no effective machinery was set up for their enforcement.12 Under a law passed in 1873, however, a township without funds for operating even one school could levy, upon the vote of the people, a special school tax.13 Paying an extra tax was impossible for most farmers in Western North Carolina, many of whom were fortunate to have twenty to thirty dollars in cash in a year. During the early years of Reconstruction some of the teachers sent into the area were from the North and were distrusted by the people.14 But more important was the fact that many of the little log school houses had been destroyed during the war, and those remaining were badly in need of repairs. The state would assume only half of the cost of construction or repairs. Textbooks were also a problem.15 The supply of school books, purchased from Northern printers, was cut off at the beginning of the war. �388 / Chapter Twenty Three N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY Round Knob and Mill: From Round Knob three levels of tracks can be seen. In the foreground is a water-powered mill. Following an educational meeting in July, 1861, school books were hastily written by school leaders in the state. They were printed on the poor, yellowing paper turned out by newly established mills, and once in the hands of pupils, they were short-lived. As late as 1876 there were no depositories for books in the counties, and old copies were soon lost.16 Like those in the early pioneer days, the schools were then forced to use as texts whatever books could be gathered from the homes, regardless of subject matter or grade level. "Anything we can get" was the standard many an official reported concerning books used in his district. A majority of the pupils had no texts of their own.17 To make practical use of the meager and varied assortment of books at hand required skillful adaptation by experienced teachers. But their number was few. Certification of teachers had from the first been generously done, and now as schools reopened, county examiners at times issued certificates on the basis of the financial need of the applicant or to any neighbor who could be induced to apply. The pay was low, as it had always been, and the four months' term could not be reached. Often it was ten weeks in a year. No attempt was made to enforce the compulsory attendance law, requiring at least sixteen months in either public �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 389 or private school between a child's sixth and his eighteenth birthday.18 In the western counties having a Negro population there was the added burden of maintaining separate schools for the Negro children. Some mountain counties had no Negro children of school age. Some had too few to justify the expense of a school and had to make other arrangements for the education of those children. One township in Macon County reported one little Negro girl for whom the officials were making arrangements for schooling. Mitchell County reported too few Negro children in any one district for a school, and the children were too scattered to attend a centrally located school. One district in Transylvania County reported no Negro school in operation because no teacher was available.19 In his opening address to the General Assembly Governor Vance urged the establishment of at least two normal schools. As a result, a summer normal school for white teachers was set up at the University at Chapel Hill, and one for Negro teachers was established at Fayetteville. Both proved popular.20 After 1877 any township having a population of five thousand or more had the authority, upon a petition of a hundred voters, to submit to the public the question of establishing a graded, eight-month school through the levying of a special school tax. Under this law Buncombe County voted such a tax, and two years later the village of Lenoir was empowered to submit a similar referendum to the voters.21 In order to bring the teacher training program closer to the people, the summer school at the University was discontinued, to be replaced by short term normals held in various parts of the state. Three of these were held in Western North Carolina—at Sparta, Franklin, and Asheville.22 From time to time new laws were made under which more taxes were appropriated for the school fund and more efficient use was made of each county's share. In 1881 a county Superintendent of Schools replaced the county examiner, and the lax third grade certificate for teaching was discarded.23 Later the short term normals were replaced with county institutes, which teachers were required to attend. Then Edwin A. Alderman and Charles D. Mclver, two dedicated educators, were employed by the state as institute leaders. They worked with the teachers, citizens, and local organizations in bringing improvement and prestige to the public schools. They were aided �390 / Chapter Twenty Three N. C. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Swannanoa. Tunnel: The Salisbury, one of two locomotives used, was taken across the mountain so that this tunnel might be worked from both directions. On March 11, 1879, (t Daylight entered Buncombe County, grades and centers meeting exactly." in this by the Farmers' Alliance, in which thousands of the state's farmers held membership. Even so, in many of the mountain communities schools continued to be taught by poorly paid and poorly prepared teachers. Equipment and books were still inadequate, and in some districts not more than fifty per cent of the community children attended school. In far too many mountain valleys and coves this condition prevailed until the dawn of a new century.24 Since the public schools of Western North Carolina were inefficient or lacking, church and privately owned schools that had closed during the war were reopened, and new ones were established. Many of the new ones were made possible by funds from Northern people genuinely interested in the educational problems of the mountain area. Other private institutions were established by North Carolinians who saw little prospect of the public schools meeting the pressing needs for education. In Rutherford County both the Male and Female Academies in the county seat were reopened. Oak Hill, Round Hill, and Burnt Chimney Academies also resumed operation, with several private schools giving instruction to primary children.25 In 1868 Robert �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 391 Abernethy began the school in Burke County that grew into Rutherford College.26The Academy in Sparta also reopened, and others were established in Alleghany County. In spite of the fact that its boarding house had been destroyed during the war, the Finley School for Boys at Lenoir reopened as students returned from the army.27 The same pattern prevailed west of the Blue Ridge. At Burnsville the Yancey Collegiate Institute, in operation for some years prior to the war, reopened its doors to continue serving until the 1890's. The college established by the Baptists at Mars Hill weathered the stormy Reconstruction days and had continued to serve the mountain area and the state as an outstanding church college. Weaverville College, incorporated in 1856, occupied the site of an old Methodist campground. It, too, reopened after the war. In Asheville the Lee School for Boys reopened while in 1887 the Northern Presbyterians established a Normal School on a tract of land which today is the site of the Memorial Mission Hospital. A school building was started in Hendersonville by the Baptists on the eve of the war. A part of the unfinished building was used briefly as barracks by federal cavalry units during their passage through the town. The school was completed in 1873 and became the home of the Western North Carolina Female College. Among its students for a period of time were about one hundred Cherokee girls placed there by the federal government. In time it became a co-educational school and, when sold by the Baptists, was reorganized as Judson College.28 During the last decade of the nineteenth century practically every town or village had an academy and a mission primary school. Some of those academies have today become parts of the University of North Carolina.29 During the last score of years of the fading century the longcherished dream of the mountain people for a railroad became a reality. As the new century dawned, railroad engines were puffing their way along the rails, trailing strings of freight cars along the valley floors, over the mountain grades, and through the tunnels. The clouds of smoke that testified to the efforts they were forced to make could be seen from Old Fort to Murphy and from Tryon to Paint Rock. Gleaming, newly laid rails connected towns in the eastern foothills with each other and with the east and the south. With the incompleted Western North Carolina Railroad now the property of the state, construction of the Western �392 / Chapter Twenty Three N. C.DEPARTMENT OF ARCHIVES AND HISTORY The Salisbury: Locomotive 25, the little wood-burning Salisbury, is on a trestle by the French Broad River near Asheville. Division began on the first day of October, 1875. By the end of 1876 the records showed a disappointingly small profit. Despite the cheap convict labor furnished by the state for pushing the road westward, only three additional miles of track had been laid. The General Assembly then declared the Western Division a corporation, having a total stock of $850,000. The next year a twelve-member Board of Directors assumed control with Major James W. Wilson as president.30 During the next three years, working under the most difficult physical conditions and under a constant financial strain, Wilson and his chief engineer, Colonel �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 393 Thaddeus Coleman, and their assistants took the road across the Blue Ridge. Since Colonial times, the abrupt and forbidding granite walls of this range had said to the white man, "This far shalt thou go and no farther." At last the mountains were conquered by parallel ribbons of steel, making the East and the West one. The gaily bedecked stagecoach drawn by "six fine horses" that had taken passengers from the railroad terminal at Henry, just west of Old Fort, over the Blue Ridge to Asheville could now eliminate the precipitous curves of the Swannanoa Gap.31 Early in 1880 it was picking up its westward traveling passengers at the terminal near Azalea, seven miles from Asheville. Freight wagons rumbled with their loads over the shortened route to warehouses in the mountain towns.31 The Blue Ridge had not tamely submitted to man's determined efforts to conquer it. Every step of the way it fought the engineers and their laborers with slides of rock and rainsoaked earth and with grades so steep that the only hope of successfully navigating them was gouging out tunnels through the solid rock walls. Indeed, the story of this engineering feat reads like a modern version of the ancient tale of the Aegean stables. Work on the short sections of grading done four years earlier was practically lost, and new surveys were necessary over the range itself. These showed that the only method to combat the sudden rise in altitude would be a looping track and a series of tunnels. With the help of five hundred convict laborers furnished by the state, Wilson and his assistant engineer, H. Heaton Coleman, laid a curving track that doubled and redoubled on itself, enough, it was said, to make almost eight complete circles. This looping required 9 miles of rails to cover 3.4 miles, but it insured a negotiable grade over the 1,092 foot ascent. Shearing the jutting towers of rocks down to the level of the roadbed meant removing tons of mountain wall and often the forming of narrow gorges, a backbreaking task for the convicts. They had picks and shovels as their tools, and with the help of ox and mule teams, the laborers dragged away the boulders and carted off the finer debris in wheelbarrows.32 Now and then a sudden storm or a landslide would undo the labor of days or even of weeks. These events were numerous, but the most disastrous of them all occurred at Mud Tunnel. There, when all but some 8,000 of the 77,000 cubic yards �394 / Chapter Twenty Three of earth and rock necessary to be removed had been cleared away, a series of landslides crashed down the mountain sides. They filled the man-made cut with 110,000 cubic yards of rock and debris, every boulder and pebble and grain of which had to be removed.33 The blue prints called for seven tunnels, ranging in length from 89 to 1,800 feet. Their construction presented the project's greatest problems, both to the engineers and to the workmen. Holes for the blasting of the rock had to be hand-drilled and are visible today, mute evidence of the prodigious human efforts expended in the struggle between determined men and resisting mountains. These holes were filled with a paste made on the spot by mixing nitroglycerine with sawdust and corn meal.34 When work began on the Swannanoa Tunnel, longest of the series, Wilson and Coleman conceived the bold idea of getting a locomotive over the crest of the ridge so that work could be carried on from the western as well as the eastern portal. In defiance of the mountain's forbidding slope and height, temporary skid tracks were laid across the range. Over it the "Salisbury," one of the two locomotives in use on the eastern end of the tunnel, was hauled and pushed by the sheer, main force of straining oxen and crews of sweating men. With the construction proceeding from both directions, the work progressed so that Major Wilson was able on March 11, 1879, to send the following well-known telegram to Governor Vance: "Daylight entered Buncombe today through Swannanoa Tunnel. Grade and centers met exactly." The seemingly impossible had been accomplished. But the Blue Ridge had taken its toll, not only in the form of physical efforts that sometimes stretched the point of human endurance, but also in accidents claiming lives. Nearly 125 convicts, toiling under the poised guns of guards, paid the supreme sacrifice in order that the counties of Western North Carolina beyond the Blue Ridge might have the benefits of a railroad.35 On October 3, 1880, every one of the 2,610 citizens of Asheville who were able to put one foot ahead of the other assembled to see the town's first train pull into the tiny station. The village was in a holiday mood, for each one prophesied that this long awaited event was the dawn of a new day for the Western Highlands, a day that would bring a prosperity never before known in the mountains. In addition to the freight cars bringing commodities into the area and taking out the produce of the region, the trains now crossing the Blue Ridge from Salisbury �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 395 soon boasted one passenger-coach. It had a central division so that one half of it was the first-class section on the westward trip, and the other half claimed that distinction on the returning eastward journey. Once out of the mountains, these trains gained enough speed to cover the distance of 120 miles from Henry to Salisbury between daylight and dark, stopping at Hickory for the mid-day meal.36 Shortly before the road reached Asheville, it was sold by the state to William J. Best of New York City and his associates. They took over the $850,000 mortgage and agreed to extend the line westward to Murphy and along the French Broad River to Paint Rock. The state, which in the transaction lost all it had invested in the road prior to October 1, 1875, agreed to furnish convict laborers for the company's combined projects. For several years an economy group in the General Assembly had been advocating a retraction of the state's railroad enterprises. The income received by the state from the three lines in which it had significant investments had always been negligible, and it was argued that the roads could be leased or sold, using money thus realized to advantage in furthering education in the state. As a result, a proposal to merge the three roads, making a great east-west trunk line extending from the coast to Murphy, failed; and in 1871 the North Carolina Railroad was leased to the Richmond, Danville System for thirty years, thus passing out of the control of North Carolina. Shortly afterward, the lessees further separated the road from other North Carolina lines by changing its guage to conform to the Virginia lines held by the company. Now the old Western Division of the Western North Carolina Railroad likewise passed out of the hands of the state. For the third time it was organized as the Western North Carolina Railroad, but it, too, shortly became the property of the Richmond, Danville System. Later, when that road was transferred to the receivers, these lines were taken over by the newly organized Southern Railway Company. In 1895 it secured a ninety-nine year lease of the Western North Carolina Railroad.37 In the meantime, both routes through the mountains to points on the Tennessee border were completed. The route following the French Broad River used a part of the old Turnpike bed, but in some sections a new roadway had to be blasted from the solid walls of the river gorge. The work was slow, but it progressed steadily until 1882 when the last spike was driven that connected the newly laid tracks with those in Tennessee. Because of the �396 / Chapter Twenty Three difference in the gauge of the lines, however, all freight had to be unloaded from one train and reloaded onto the other. The workmen from the completed section were transferred to the western route. Construction of this segment had been progressing satisfactorily, and in 1882 a train puffed its way into Waynesville, to be enthusiastically welcomed by the citizens of that village.38 From Waynesville westward the engineers ran into construction difficulties, for between Waynesville and Murphy the road had to cross both the Balsam Range and the Nantahalas. Earlier plans for tunnels through these barriers had to be abandoned, necessitating a rerouting of the track through wild mountain terrain and over the crests of these towering ranges. In the Balsams that meant attaining an altitude of 3,315 feet above sea level. The problems connected with the work in this difficult territory greatly delayed the completion of the road. The company asked for and received an extension of the construction time allotted in their contract with the state. But by 1891 these lofty mountains, like the Blue Ridge to the east, had been conquered, and freight trains were pulling into the switching yards at Murphy.39 The great east-west line envisioned by Caldwell and advocated by Clingman had at last become a reality. But it was not the transportation system of their dreams. Nor did the educational fund ever receive one penny from the sale of this western road. Chartered in 1855, the Spartanburg-Asheville section of the old French Broad Railroad began long-deferred westward construction from its Spartanburg terminal in 1873. Slowly the track crept over the Blue Ridge. The original plans called for the road to pass through Columbus and along Tryon Mountain and across Howard's Gap, passing through a series of tunnels. These plans were now abandoned and a new survey made. To avoid the tunnels the track was laid up the steep mountain to Saluda. This was a prodigious feat of mountain construction, for in one threemile section the bed had to climb 600 feet and at some points the grade was 220 feet per mile. On the steepest part two safety tracks were laid, and the trains required an additional engine from Melrose to the village of Saluda. As on the Old Fort-Asheville road, convict labor was used on this line after it crossed into North Carolina. Once again, the wild terrain took its toll of lives, and nineteen graves mark the resting place of convicts killed in accidents. But the Blue Ridge was forced to yield to the human endeavor, and in 1882 trains were �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 397 passing over the rails into Hendersonville. There the road terminated until work was again resumed in 1883, and the line reached Asheville in 1886, connecting with the roads to Paint Rock and the branch creeping westward from Waynesville.40 The old pre-war plan for a line from Georgia to Knoxville, worked out by the Blue Ridge Railroad Company and intended to pass down the Hiwassee River, took form in the shorter Marietta and North Georgia Railroad with thirteen miles of track in Cherokee County on the route to Tennessee. Its tracks reached Murphy three years earlier than did those of the Western North Carolina line. In 1894 a line was constructed from Henderson ville to Rosman. Chartered as the Hendersonville-Brevard Railroad, it was reorganized as the Transylvania Railroad and later, like other roads west of the mountains, became a part of the Southern Railway System.41 During the last two decades of the nineteenth century the railroads extended their lines, and the General Assembly chartered new ones in the counties just east of the Blue Ridge. Some of these progressed no farther than the charters, but others sold the required amount of stock and set about building their road beds. The enormous cost of railroad construction and the heavy upkeep of road beds and equipment after the lines were in operation, together with the nation-wide depression following the 1873 panic, affected railroads throughout the country. Bankruptcy was the fate of some of the new companies, resulting in reorganizations and recharterings. There were also consolidations of roads through merger, purchase, lease, or the absorption of small lines by larger ones. With all of these frequent changes in the railroad pattern, Western North Carolina was being supplied with needed railroads.42 By 1890 a line was in operation from Spartanburg, South Carolina, through Rutherfordton to Marion. To the towns in Western North Carolina this meant connections also with Camden, South Carolina. In 1884 a road linked Lenoir with Lincoln ton and Charlotte.43 One more railroad would come to this area in the new century, and once more the Blue Ridge would submit to parallel rows of steel linking counties to the west with their neighbors to the east. Western North Carolina was, after long years of waiting, getting its railroads. With them came the beginning of a new day in the mountains. It would be a day when once more the people could follow the pursuits of peace, and they could say, as Henry Woodward had written two hundred years earlier, "We have discovered a country so delitious." �398 / Chapter Twenty Three THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The Statue of Vance in the U. S. Capitol: In 1879 Governor Vance resigned his office to enter Congress as a United States Senator. �Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains / 399 THE STEPHENS PRESS, INC. The Vance Monument: Square in Asheville. This monument to Buncombe County's native son is on Pack �CHAPTER NOTES Explanation: In the Chapter Notes, references to Collections are by title only. After their first appearance, other references, where clear, are by authors only. CHAPTER 1 The Land of Mountains 1. Jasper L. Stuckey and Warren G. Steel, The Geology and Mineral Resources of North Carolina, 3. 2. Ibid. 3. H. J. Bryson, The Story of the Geological Making of North Carolina, 13. 4. Stuckey and Steel, 5-6. 5. Ibid., 6. 6. Ibid. 7. In some places in the Smokies the shales and limestones of the Ordovician period are actually below the older Ocoee rocks owing to this over thrust. 8. The oldest life forms found in the region are in Cades Cove. These fossils belong to the Ordovician period. Stuckey and Steel, 31. 9. Ibid., 4. 10. The ancestor of the Pigeon River flowed east and south into an ancient French Broad River near the site of the present Asheville. It reversed its flow northward, leaving a section of its old bed dry. Other Haywood County streams show that they once flowed east, while beds of yet other ancient rivers can still be discerned, mute evidences of the work of pirate streams. See W. C. Allen's Annals of Haywood County, 11-12. 11. The fascinating geological history of Western North Carolina is traced through succeeding geological ages by Bryson and by Phillip B. King and Arthur Stupka in "The Great Smoky Mountains—Their Geology and Natural History," Scientific Monthly, LXXXI, 31-43. See also Henry S. Sharpe, "The Geologic Story" in The Great Smoky Mountains and the Blue Ridge, 290-319. 12. Stuckey and Steel, 9. 13. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 193. Henry Timberlake, in the Upper Cherokee towns on a good will tour in 1761, found that the 400 �Notes / 401 13. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 193. Henry Timberlake, in the Upper Cherokee towns on a good will tour in 1761, found that the Cherokees had ornaments of gold and silver and copper and that they had gems. Some of these were so fine that they were used only in the religious ceremonies. See his Memoirs, 57-103. 14. The gold deposits and their effects upon Western North Carolina are treated in Chapter XIII. 15. See Stuckey and Steel for a list of the mineral deposits, 26-33. 16. King and Stupka, 41; Charles A. Shull, The Lure of Western North Carolina for the Explorer-Naturalists, 17. Bill Lord, Nature Notes on the Blue Ridge Parkway, 18. Donald C. Peattie, "Men, Mountains, and Trees," in The Great Smoky Mountains and the Blue Ridge, 152-171; King and Stupka, 40. 19. William Bartram, climbing up the mountain ranges in May, 1775, recorded his amazement as he watched spring give way to winter. Travels Through North and South Carolina, 273-275. Charles Lanman, traveling on horseback from Franklin to the Qualla Reservation in May 1848, noted this same rapid shifting of the seasons. Adventures in the Wilds of the United States and the British American Provinces, 1, 385. See also King and Stupka, 41. 20. King and Stupka, 43. 21. The display of wild flowers is not as extensive as it was before the white man came to cultivate the land and to clear the forests. William Bartram, viewing the flame azalea on a mountainside, wrote: "We are alarmed with the apprehension of the hill being set on fire," Travels Through North and South Carolina, 264. 22. The parade of blooms and hence of color through the months is given by Stupka in "Through the Year in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, Month by Month," in The Great Smoky Mountains and the Blue Ridge, 263-289. 23. King and Stupka, 40. 24. Ibid. CHAPTER 2 Eden Is Discovered 1. Miguel Cavarrubias, The Eagle, the Jaguar, and the Serpent, Chap. II. John R. Swan ton traces the pre-historic Indian movements in the southeast in his The Indians of the Southeastern United States, 21-33. Although writing in an unorthodox style for a scientific study, Harold S. Gladwin in his Men out of Asia has presented an interesting discussion of the movements of Asiatic migration to America, 1-183. 2. Cavarrubias, Chap. V; James B. Griffin (ed.), Archeology of Eastern United States, 207 ff.; Powell, "Mound Explorations in Caldwell, Burke, Wilkes, Hay wood, Buncombe, and Henderson Counties," Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, XII, 331-350, and Powell, "Mound Builders," in the same volume, 595-730. �402 / Notes 3. Dickens, Roy, The Pisgah Culture and its Place in the History of the Southern Appalachians. 4. Extensive excavations have been made at Hiwassee Island at the junction of the Hiwassee and Tennessee Rivers. See Thomas M. N. Lewis and Madeline Kneberg, Hiwassee Island, and their Tribes That Slumber. 5. See Note 4. 6. Mooney, 14-22; Adair, 11-15. 7. See Note 6. 8. The map (Plate III) given in Mooney's Myths of the Cherokees shows the Cherokee boundaries at the period of the nation's greatest expansion and its subsequent losses of territory. 9. Mooney, 14-23; Adair, 237-241. 10. Adair, 16-20. See also his "General Observations,'' 405-480. 11. The most important, and doubtless the oldest, of these trails was the Warrior Path. It entered from the north by way of the Tennessee River, passing up the Hiwassee River, where, near a village on the site of Peachtree Mound, it forked, one branch going to Nikwasi, on the site of the present Franklin, and the other continuing along the Hiwassee to its headwaters, then crossing the mountains to villages in the present Georgia. From Nikwasi the other branch passed through a gap in the mountains into northeastern Georgia and then southeast into the present South Carolina. Along this in 1540 came De Soto and his army. Frank M. Setzler and Jesse D. Jennings, Peachtree Mound and Village Site, 9-10. Branches from these main trails led to the scattered Indian villages. The early trails eventually brought English traders into the mountains and became pack horse routes. They were later widened into wagon roads, and some of them are today serving as paved highways. The -white man's railroads also used these ancient trails. Sections of a few of the old Indian paths are still visible. 12. See the myths given by Mooney. 13. Adair, Timberlake, Bartram, and Schneider all tell of Cherokee food and its preparation. Adair says that one method of cooking potatoes was to boil them in bear's grease, \dair, History, 337; Timberlake, 57, 61, 68; Schneider, "Journey to the Upper Cherokee Towns," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 257. 14. Adair, 442-446; Swanton, 386-439; Timberlake, 57-103; Schneider, 260. Until the English traders, as more or less permanent settlers in the Cherokee nation, brought the white man's way of constructing log houses, the Indians made the walls of their lodges or houses of upright poles or saplings set close together in a trench. 15. William Bartram was impressed with the village of Cowee and recorded a description of it. He pictured the council house in detail. It was, he said, in the shape of a rotunda that would seat several hundred people. In it he witnessed some of the Indian activities typical to the Cherokees. Travels, 297-298. See also Timberlake, 59. 16. Such a feather robe was made by Cherokee women for use in the drama, Unto These Hills, 17. Adair, 342-446; Swanton, 351 ff. Schneider also describes the food, crops, dress, and customs of the Cherokees, 250-265. �Notes / 403 16. Such a feather robe was made by Cherokee women for use in the drama, Unto These Hills. 17. Adair, 342-446; Swanton, 351 ff. Schneider also describes the food, crops, dress, and customs of the Cherokees, 250-265. 18. Schneider found that the Cherokees made earthenware that was so efficiently treated that it looked like ironware from a foundry, 257. 19. Ibid.] Timberlake, 68. 20. At the Oconaluftee Indian Village at Cherokee the visitor can enter a typical, seven-sided council house. In this village, too, he can watch the processes of making boats, fashioning implements, making pottery, and weaving baskets, all according to the ancient methods employed by the ancestors of the present Cherokees. He can also see demonstrations of the amazingly efficient blow-guns. The buildings in the palisaded village are authentic types used by the Cherokees in 1750, some of them showing the influence of the white man's method of construction. Under the general sponsorship of the Cherokee Historical Association, research work for this project was done by the Anthropology Departments of the Universities of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia. 21. They also used the semi-precious stones found in the mountains. Henry Timberlake was told that, according to an ancient Cherokee legend, an especially brilliant stone, considered too sacred to be used except in religious rites, was found in the head of a serpent. Memoirs, 73-74. 22. Schneider, 262. 23. A special game was arranged for Charles Lanman when he was the guest of William H. Thomas at Qualla in 1848. He describes it in his "Letters From the Alleghany Mountains," 414-416. See also Chapman J. Milling, Red Carolinians, 378-380. 24. It would seem that this name was not applied to the Cherokees alone. Lederer was told that beyond the Blue Ridge lived the Rickahockans, who would at that time have been the Cherokees, but Indians appearing earlier in coastal towns and so designated were not Cherokees. Swanton, 217. 25. Ibid. 26. The Smithsonian Institution, working with the Civil Works Administration, made excavations between December 21, 1933, and April 1, 1934, at Peachtree Mound, five and a half miles east of Murphy, near the confluence of Peachtree Creek and the Hiwassee River. Much interest attached to this excavation, since it was thought the mound might prove to be the site of Gau-ax-u-le (Quasili) visited by De Soto in 1540. Its location, both in relationship to the rivers and to the Indian trail, aptly fitted the description of that town left by the Spaniards. The excavation revealed only one culture, which was "probably Cherokee." Setzler and Jennings, Peachtree Mound Site; 9-10; Final Report of the De Soto Commission, 188-191. CHAPTER 3 Two Races Meet 1. Final Report of the De Soto Commission, 187-188. 2. John R. Swanton and the members of the Commission suggest that the �404 / Notes 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. word Chalaque in the Spanish records may not have reference to the Cherokees, since it seems to have been applied to Indians farther east, who were not Cherokees. Final Report, 49-51. Final Report, 2-3, 103-105. Extracts from these four accounts are given in Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 5-14. Final Report, 187. Sondley, History of Buncombe County, 130-137. North Carolina History Told by Contemporaries, 3; Lefler and Newsome, 6ff. Sondley, I, 329. Ibid., I 330-334. Colonial Records, I, 208. Woodward made four western trips, on one of them going as far west as the Chattahoochee River, through the lower Cherokee country. This is the route given by S. C. Williams in his "Introduction" to Wood's account of the Needham trip. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 24-38. The Hickory Nut Gap has been considered by many writers as the most likely taken by Needham. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 24-38. Heath conveyed rights to others. One of these men made claims upon the English government for his share of the Heath land. The claim was finally settled in 1769, when the Crown and Council substituted for the Carolina land some 100,000 acres in New York. Sondley 1, 265-272, 386. W. S. Powell, The North Carolina Charter of 1663. Sondley, I, 324-329; Lefler and Newsome, 34. Lefler and Newsome, 32. Sondley, I, 345-352. CHAPTER 4 Along the Trading Paths 1. Mooney gives their names: Coran, the Raven; Sinnawa, the Hawk; Nellawgitechi; Gorhaleke; Owasta (all from Toxawa); Canacaught, the Great Conjuror; Gohama; and Caunasaita (these three from Keowee), 31. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid, 31-32. 4. Logan, History of the Upper Country of South Carolina, 188. In 1694 the taxable population of the entire colony of Carolina was 786, making an approximate total white population of 3,000. Hugh T. Lefler and Newsome, Albert R., North Carolina, 50. 5. The act to make public the Indian trade passed the South Carolina Legislature on June 30, 1716. While the previous arrangement could not be called a colonial monopoly, the process leading to one had begun with the establishment of the first Board of Indian Commissioners and the beginning of supervision over traders. 6. Journal of the Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 126. 7. Logan, 262. �Notes / 405 8. Journal of the Commissioners, 2. Burdeners were allowed whiskey at the fort, but the Board ordered, "Mix what rum is disposed of to the Indians, one third part water," 103. Logan says that this order was an attempt to halt Indian drunkenness at the fort. Workers there more often than not diluted the whiskey two thirds. Logan, 256-257. 9. A separate trading house was arranged at the fort. For a vivid description of a busy day's bartering there, see Logan, 252-253. For the attack on the burdeners in 1717, that resulted in the loss of 770 skins and in the death of several burdeners, see Logan, 263-264. 10. Ibid. 11. The price list is given in the June 30, 1718, entry of the Journals of the Commissioners. On July 19, 1718, William Hatton, Hasting's successor, asked that the list be revised to compete with prices used by Virginia traders in the area, 306. 12. Duncan D. Wallace, South Carolina, 33-44, 125-130. 13. It is interesting to note that the white man constructed his Georgia to Tennessee railroad over sections of this ancient trail from Keowee to the Over Hill Towns. 14. "Journal," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 192. 15. History of the Dividing Line, 298. 16. "Introduction" to Adair's History, IX. 17. Logan, 321-322; Sadie S. Patton, The Story of Henderson County, 37. 18. Logan, Chap. 12. 19. Milling, 268. See also Logan, 167-203. 20. Sadie S. Patton, Sketches of Polk County, 136. 21. Byrd, 246. 22. While the factor made reports and occasionally went to the fort, the Board appointed Ludovick Grant as reporter. His duty was to keep Charles Town informed of events taking place in the Cherokee country. He served in that capacity for many years and to his accounts the modern historian is indebted for much information. 23. For a brief biographical sketch of James Adair, see S. C. Williams's "Introduction" to Adair's History. 24. Mooney, 34. 25. His "Journal" is given in Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 63-104. 26. Logan, Chap. XII. James Adair deplored the influx of unscrupulous traders into the Indian nations. See his History, 444-445. 27. Ludovick Grant wrote the account of the Keowee incident, asking that the traders present sign it with him as proof to the Board that the incredible event actually took place. For that account, see Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, footnote, 133. 28. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 136. 29. The picture shows the Cherokees stiff and unnatural in their English finery—and a bit frightened. 30. The terms of the treaty are given in Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 138-143. 31. Ludovick Grant had earlier been given the task of arresting Priber, but had failed. On December 12, 1739, the Commons House of the Assembly of South Carolina ordered that Colonel Joseph Fox and two men be paid �406 / Notes of South Carolina ordered that Colonel Joseph Fox and two men be paid 402 pounds for "going to the Cherokees to fetch down Dr. Priber." Journals of the Commons House of South Carolina, II, 111. 32. Priber's reply was "We have a succession of agents to take up the work as fast as others leave. We never lose sight of a favorite point; nor are we bound by the strict rules of morality in the means when the end we pursue is laudable." Quoted by Sondley, I, 201. For Ludovick Grant's account of Priber's elaborate plans for an Indian confederacy, see Adair, footnote, 252-253. Antoine Bonnefoy, one of three Frenchmen captured in Ohio by the Cherokees and held as slaves in the home of an Over Hill chief from 1741 to 1742, recorded in the account of his experiences that Priber, visiting in the Indian home, asked the three Frenchmen to join his "society." He told them of his plans for an Indian empire and explained the system of government he proposed to put into operation in it. These rather full details tally with those given by Grant and Adair. Priber, in introducing himself to these Frenchmen, called himself Pierre Albert. See Bonnefoy's "Journal" in Travels in the Tennessee Country, 149162. 33. Priber was a controversial figure to his contemporaries and he has remained so. Ludovick Grant wrote the account of his schemes and his arrest. So did Adair. Grant saw no good in the man, but Adair was charmed with the spy's personality and was challenged by his intellect. For a year—until the Indians got suspicious of the exchange of letters— he wrote to this German in the pay of France. A letter from Frederica, printed in the South Carolina Gazette of August 15, 1743, is gleeful over the arrest of Priber and points out the wickedness of his plans for his "Paradise." Yet the writer admits that the empire idea "has several flights full of invention" and charitably concludes, "It is a pity so much wit is applied to so bad a purpose." Adair, 253. CHAPTER 5 Lightnings Flash and Thunders Roll 1. History of the Dividing Line, 246. 2. "Account," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 204-207. 3. 4. 5. 6. Sondley, II, 514. Milling, 281-282. See also Logan, 417-443. Milling, 283-285. Over a period of years letters of advice and protest had been sent to officials by these traders. On April 14, 1746, such communications were read in the House of Commons from Beamer, Grant, Dougherty, and Bunning. Journal of the Commons House, VI, 187-188. David H. Corkran gives a detailed account of the affair at Stecoe in an article, "The Unpleasantness at Stecoe, North Carolina," N.C.H.R., XXXII (July, 1955), 358-375. 7. Governor Glenn, attended by a company of soldiers and some fifty civilians, made the trip to the capital of the Lower Towns. He bought several thousand acres of land on the Keowee River, refusing to accept the plot as a gift from the Cherokees. He remained in the Indian country while the fort was being built. It was a square structure, with �Notes / 407 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. the plot as a gift from the Cherokees. He remained in the Indian country while the fort was being built. It was a square structure, with sides about two hundred feet in length and was constructed of earth and timbers. The fort itself was allowed to fall into decay so that in three years it was in ruins, although the barracks were still usable. Wallace, 171. This treaty was signed on July 2, 1755. Under its terms the land was ceded to the king of England and for it the Cherokees received presents •worth less than $350. David D. Wallace, South Carolina, 173. deBrahm had been an engineer in the German Imperial Army. He was surveyor-general of Georgia in 1755, when South Carolina employed him to build adequate ramparts at Charles Town after the older ones had been destroyed by a hurricane. Wallace, 172. Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 187-194. "Introduction," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 188. Milling, 287. Timberlake, Memoirs, 97-99. Milling, 281-285. This log structure was soon destroyed by the Cherokees. Wallace, 173. R. D. W. Connor, The Colonial and Revolutionary Periods, 257. Virginia and South Carolina passed similar measures. Mismanagement characterized the trade with all Indians within these colonies, although Atkins singled out South Carolina's trade with the Cherokees for special criticism. He was given the task of unifying the trade. After a study of conditions, he reported to "the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners For Trade and Plantations" [sic], submitting his "Plan of a general Direction and Management of the Indian Affairs throughout North America under one uniform Regulation of their Commerce, for retrieving and establishing the British Interest among the Indian nations, and thereby the future Security of our Colonies against the Designs of the French." [sic] The plan is signed Edmond Atkin. [sic] Adair, History, 266. Milling, 293; Connor, 280. See his "Account," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 177-184. Milling, 296-297; Wallace, 173-178. Wallace says there were 31 Cherokees in the delegation. Wallace, South Carolina, A Short History, 171. Ibid, 178-179; Milling, 296-297; Mooney, 4-42. Milling, 298-310; Wallace, 179. Milling, 302-303; Wallace, 179-180. Milling, 303; Wallace, 180; Mooney, 42ff. Milling, 304-305; Wallace, 180-182; Adair, 259-273. See note 26. Adair is accredited with being the first to write the name French with the Broad River west of the Blue Ridge, saying "It is natural for strangers to drink thereof, to quench thirst, gratify their curiosity, and have it to say they had drank [sic] of the French waters." History, 243. Sondley says the French had earlier called the river the Frank River. Buncombe County, II, 580. �408 / Notes CHAPTER 6 The Lull Between the Storms 1. History of the Dividing Line, 246. 2. Except for Byrd's estimate, the population figures are from Mooney, 31-34. Adair says that the small-pox epidemic of 1738 reduced the Cherokee population one half. History, 244. 3. Bartram says that before it was destroyed by Montgomery, Keowee extended six to eight miles along the river. The village was in ruins when he was there. Travels in North and South Carolina, 271. 4. For twenty-five years the Over Hill Towns had been the fertile soil for the seeds of French propaganda and in spite of Old Hopp's efforts, the Over Hill Cherokees became and remained strongly pro-French. It seems somewhat ironic, then, that of all the Cherokee towns, only these Over Hill villages should have been spared in the Cherokee War. 5. Timber lake, Memoirs, 26-56. 6. Timberlake has left one of the most valuable sources of information concerning the Cherokees during the late trading period. See his Memoirs, 57-103. 7. Ibid., 115-148. Timberlake sacrificed his inherited estate and his small fortune to serve his colony and England. He received practically no recompense from either Virginia or the mother country and he died in England in poverty. The Gentleman's Magazine carried this notice of his death: "Died, September 30, 1765, Lieut. Henry Timberlake of the 42 Regiment. He came in with the Cherokee Indians, and attended them." XXXIV, 491. Quoted by S. C. Williams, who edited Timberlake's Memoirs, footnote, 175. 8. Mooney, 45-46. 9. Theodore Roosevelt, The Winning of the West, I, 187-188, 193 ff.; Felix Alley, Random Thoughts and the Musings of a Mountaineer, 302-303. 10. Tryon made a colorful military parade out of the trip from his "Palace" to the mountains of Western North Carolina. He was escorted by two regiments of militia, sixteen servants and aides, and two surveyors— altogether, some 100 persons. The two surveyors, with their Indian assistants, did most of the actual work after Tryon and the regiments had returned east. Carrying out the King's orders cost the colony the substantial sum of 1,490 pounds sterling, a sum that brought bitter complaints from the taxpayers, especially those in the "back country," where frontier conditions made money a rare commodity, indeed. Lefler and Newsome, 172. 11. Sondley, II, 514; Samuel A'C. Ashe, A History of North Carolina, I, 332333. 12. John P. Arthur, History of Watauga County, 19. It was in such a herder's cabin that Boone is thought to have found shelter on some of his trips west of the Blue Ridge. 13. "Journal," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 193. 14. In 1771 the colony's population was estimated at 250,000. In the century preceding the Revolutionary War the population of North Carolina increased ninefold, making it the fourth most thickly populated colony. Lefler and Newsome, 71. �Notes / 409 15. Ashe, I, 208-288; Sondley, I, 362-372; Lefler and Newsome, 71-81. 16. Lefler and Newsome, 77-78; Chalmers G. Davidson, Piedmont Partisan, 114; Colonial Records, IV, p. XXL 17. On his vast stretch of land, Granville established a territorial system of land tenure. Settlers receiving grants paid annual quit-rents. These, they claimed, were exorbitant. The tract, which was subject neither to England nor to the colony, was a constant source of irritation to North Carolina. The settlers within it paid no taxes to the colony and the colony had no authority to deal with trouble arising between settlers over irregularities in land grants. There was much dishonesty in the dealings of Granville's agents in connection with both the settlers and Granville. When men crossed the Blue Ridge to make their homes in the lands to the west and learned that they were in North Carolina, they ignored the fact that they were in the Granville District, leasing their area from the Cherokees. E. M. Coulter, "The Granville District," J.S.H.P., XIII, 35-51; Alonzo T. Dill, Tryon and His Palace, 96-97. 18. "Spangenberg Diary," Records of the Moravians, I, 28-64; quotation, 43. The Spangenberg trip and the Moravian settlement that followed is presented by Adelaide Fries in her Road to Salem. The book is based upon the Autobiography of Anna Catherine Antes, who went to Bethabara in April, 1759, as the wife of the settlement's physician, Martin Kalberlahn. Her Autobiography, now in the Salem Moravian Archives, covers events in the first temporary stockaded village and in Salem from 1759 until 1803. While the Moravian settlement was a religion-centered, communal organization and not actually in Western North Carolina, the conditions these men and women found and the economic pattern of living they developed were repeated by settlers moving farther west to the foothills of the Blue Ridge and by those crossing the mountains to the valleys beyond. 19. "The Bethabara Diary." Records of the Moravians, 117-216, 227-238. The account of the journey of the "Brethern" from Pennsylvania to Wachovia is also given in Travels in the American Colonies, 327-356. See also John H. Clewell, A History of Wachovia in North Carolina, 4-18, and Fries, Road to Salem. 20. In that year, 1769, Boone went with a party that included Finley into Kentucky. He was asked by Finley to be the guide, since he knew the country. John Bakeless, Daniel Boone, 45-48; Arthur, Watauga County, 2952; Roosevelt, I, 135-146. 21. Bakeless, 23. 22. Roosevelt, I, 166-175; Chap. VII; North Callahan, Smoky Mountain Country, 1-9; William E. Fitch, The Battle of Alamance, 42-55. 23. Roosevelt, I, 177-180. 24. Ibid., 180-183; Lyrnan Draper, King's Mountain and Its Heroes, 418-422; Carl S. Driver, John Sevier: Pioneer of the Old Southwest. 25. Dill, 135; Davidson, Chap. III. 26. This act of violence, according to one account, gave the term "lynching" to the American language. 27. For accounts of the Battle of Alamance, see Records of the Moravians, I, 473-474, 450-476; R. D. W. Connor, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, I, 264-288; Lefler and Newsome, 171-178; Ashe, I, 340-342; Fitch, Chaps. �410 / Notes I-II; William S. Powell, The War of the Regulation; Howard White, The Battle of Alamance. 28. Roosevelt, I, 183-185; Connor, I Chap. XIV. CHAPTER 7 A New Flag for Western North Carolina 1. Lefler and Newsome, 191-192; Ashe, I, 437-459. For the document as written from memory see Colonial Records, IX, 1263-1265; History Told By Contemporaries, 99-100; Mecklenburg in the Revolution, 27-29; George W. Graham, The Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. 2. On August 8, Governor Josiah Martin denounced the action of the people of Mecklenburg. For the Resolves, see Colonial Records, IX, 1282-1285; History Told by Contemporaries, 100-103; Mecklenburg in the Revolution, 34-41; Ashe, I, 450-453. 3. Lefler and Newsome, 197-198; 215-218. 4. These desperadoes increased in numbers as war entered the counties east of the Blue Ridge in 1780, and the mountains became hideouts for individuals and gangs. Davidson, Chap. V; Fries, Road to Salem. 5. Roosevelt, I, 249; Bakeless, 66-88; Stewart White, Daniel Boone: Wilderness Scout, 148-149. It was to make possible the migration to Transylvania that Boone and eight companions hacked out the Wilderness Trail. A few months later Henderson and his settlers actually took wagons over it. Bakeless, 93. The governors of both Virginia and North Carolina declared Henderson's treaty null and void, Connor, I, 295. 6. Roosevelt, I, 278-279. A print coming out of this attempt of the English to enlist Indians against the colonists shows an Indian presenting the scalps of white men to an English officer. 7. Ibid., I, 281-282; Clarence W. Griffin, History of Old Tryon and Rutherford Counties, 34, 36. 8. Roosevelt, I, 283-294. 9. Ibid.', Ashe, I, 549-550; Samuel C. Williams, The Lost State of Franklin, 28. 10. Patton, The Story of Henderson County, 86-88. 11. Alley, Random Thoughts, 304. 12. The Department of Conservation and Development, cooperating with the State Department of Archives and History, has erected markers along the route taken by Rutherford and his army. The first is at Swannanoa Gap. 13. Connor, I, 406-407; Ashe, I, 547-553; Milling, 314-324; Griffin, 33-35. 14. Roosevelt says that Rutherford lost three men and that he killed twelve Indians. Winning of the West, I, 302. Ashe says that he also took nine prisoners. History, I, 547. 15. Ashe, I, 553; Ashe, "Rutherford's Expedition Against the Indians, 1776," N.C.B., IV (December, 1904), 3-28. Moore's account of his mission is given in Colonial Records, X, 895-896. 16. This guerrilla band was led by Alexander Cameron, who had been deputy Indian agent. 17. Roosevelt, I, 302; Lefler and Newsome, 228. �Notes / 411 18. Felix B. Alley, Random Thoughts and Musings of a Mountaineer, 305-306; Mooney, 53. 19. Mooney, 53; Sondley, I, 378 ff. 20. Sondley, I 378 ff.; Lefler and Newsome, 228; Archibald Henderson, "The Treaty of the Long Island," N.C.H.R., III Qanuary, 1931), 55-116. 21. Williams, Lost State of Franklin, 2. 22. Lefler and Newsome, 229. 23. Ibid., 230-231; Griffin, 52; Mecklenburg in the Revolution, 53; Davidson, Piedmont Partisan, Chap. V. 24. Lefler and Newsome, 232-233. 25. Ibid., 232-233; Mecklenburg in the Revolution, 54-56; Davidson, Chap. VI. 26. Lefler and Newsome, 233; Griffin, 52-58; Draper, 144-146. 27. Griffin, 54-56; Draper, 147-149; Lieutenant Anthony Allaire of Ferguson's forces recorded in his diary the movements and activities of that army through the land just east of the Blue Ridge. The Diary is given in Draper, King's Mountain and Its Heroes, 484-515. 28. Roosevelt, II, 242-254; Lefler and Newsome, 233; Griffin, 58-59; Draper, 169-174. 29. Roosevelt, II, 255-263; Griffin, 59-60; Draper, 175-187. Shepherd Dugger in his War Trails of the Blue Ridge gives a detailed account of the route of the mountain men. See Chaps. I-II. 30. For the detailed movements of both Ferguson's troops and those of the mountain men, see Draper, 199-222; Lefler and Newsome, 233-235. 31. Draper, 233-309; Driver, Chap. Ill; Davidson, 85-90; Ashe, I, 629-636; Connor, I, 355-358; Roosevelt, II, 272 ff. For the official report of the losses at this battle, see Colonial Records, XV, 163-165. 32. Lefler and Newsome, 235-238. During the entire Revolutionary War, men enlisted as volunteers in the forces furnished by the state to the Continental Line. Some were drafted. Others were members of local militia and saw service in their areas. In addition, men casually joined organized units for guerrilla warfare under one of the partisan officers dogging the British army. Still others joined to accomplish some specific objective. When that had been accomplished or the local campaign was over, they drifted back home. After the defeat at Camden, men straggled back to the "back country" and the mountains. McDowell's men made up such a group, and if Ferguson had not arrived, the men would have returned to their homes. In July, Isaac Shelby had led a band across the mountains to badger Ferguson's forces. Then they had returned home. Like the mountain men at the Battle of King's Mountain, most of these in the guerrilla bands were not, technically, in the army. Roosevelt, II, 248-251. CHAPTER 8 East-West Tug-of-War 1. Arthur, Watauga County, 182; Dugger, 15. 2. The executions took place after a court martial, presided over by two men appointed as justices. Thirty-two men were condemned to death, �412 / Notes 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. but after nine had been hanged, Colonel Shelby stopped the atrocities. The most prominent citizen losing his life was Colonel Ambrose Mills, a respected settler of Rutherford County. Draper, 330-343. Roosevelt, II, 262-293; Griffin, 67-70. Roosevelt, II, 295-323; Milling, 326 f£; Mooney, 57-59; Driver, Chap. II. Alley, 308-309; Mooney, 56-16, 75-76. The Bonus Act, passed by the General Assemby in 1780, since it opened Cherokee land to veterans, made necessary the repeal of the Treaty of the Long Island of 1777. Lefler and Newsome, 241-242. Roosevelt, II, 295-323. The Dumplin Creek Treaty is given in State Records, XXII, 649-650, also in History Told by Contemporaries, 72-73. See also Williams, The Lost State of Franklin, 75-86. For the text of this treaty see Indian Affairs: Laws and Treaties, II, 8-11. Ashe, I, 549-550; Lefler and Newsome, 259. Roosevelt, II, 295-323; Williams, 165-171; Driver, Chap. II. Williams, 207-212; Mooney, 60; Driver, John Sevier, Chap. II. Lefler and Newsome, 95-97. It took from twelve to fifteen days to get from the Watauga Settlements to a meeting of the General Assembly at an eastern town. If the roads were in bad condition—and they frequently were—it took longer. Williams, 37. For a first-hand description of the roads in 1795, see John Brown's "Journal of Travels in 1795," edited by A. R. Newsome, N.C.H.R., XI (October, 1934), 284313. Lefler and Newsome, 300-301. Ibid., 106-114; Davidson, Piedmont Partisan, Chap. III. Williams, The History of the Lost State of Franklin, 268-272, Chap. XXXIII; Driver, Chap. I. Lefler and Newsome, 218-221, 251-252; Ashe, II, 5-6; Records of the Moravians, II, 627-633; Griffin, 86. The basic issues in this east-west struggle are discussed by Connor in his Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, I, 469-474. Charles Beard and Mary Beard, Basic History of the United States, 179-181. Williams, 18-25. Lefler and Newsome, 258-259. For Martin's letter of censure, see State Records, XXII, 642-647. See also Williams, 65-69. The most detailed account of the stormy times in the struggle of the Washington District to become a state is given by Williams. See his Lost State of Franklin, Chaps. IV-XVI. See also Driver, Chap. V. Williams, 193-204; Driver, Chap. V. Williams, 193-204, 226-228, 119-121; Driver, Chap. V. Driver, Chap. V. The brief—and lost—state of Franklin, developing out of geographic conditions and local interests, makes a colorful, if stormy, chapter in the history of Western North Carolina. For other treatments of it, see Fitch, The Origin, Rise, and Fall of the State of Franklin; Connor, I, 408-412; Ashe, II 35-41, 51, 58-69. Lefler and Newsome, 268-269. �Notes / 413 CHAPTER 9 In Search of Beauty—An Interlude 1. George W. McCoy, "Wedgwood Used Western North Carolina Clay in Making Famous Ware," Asheville Citizen-Times, August 13, 1950; J. P. Brady, "Wedgwood Wrought His Genius in Clay From Macon County," Asheville Citizen-Times, October 20, 1956. 2. McCoy; Brady. 3. Louise B. Fisher, An Eighteenth Century Garland, 9-10. 4. Ibid., 75; Charles Shull, The Lure of Western North Carolina For the ExplorerNaturalists. 5. Sondley, II, 522; The Dictionary of American Biography, II, 28. 6. The sections of his travel account dealing with Western North Carolina cover pages 263-302. This section furnished the Bartram material in this chapter. His papers and notebooks give 1775 as the year of his travels. 7. Travels, page 279. 8. Sondley, II, 519-522; The Dictionary of American Biography, XII, 591-592; Andre Michaux, "Travels," Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 329342. 9. Sondley, II, 519-522. 10. Ibid., 522; Shull. CHAPTER 10 With Their Goods and Chattels 1. Lefler and Newsome, 241-242. 2. Ibid., 291. For the text of thest treaties, see Indian Affairs, 11, 29-33; 5155. 3. Cordelia Camp, Burke County Sketches, 6. 4. Griffin, 7-8. 5. Ibid., 42-45. 6. George H. Smathers, The Story of Land Titles in Western North Carolina, 1015; 20-22; David L. Corbett, The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 1117, 38-48; 188-192; 227-238. 7. Arthur, Watauga County, 19. 8. Jason B. Deyton, "The Toe River Valley to 1865," N.C.H.R., XXIV (October, 1947), 428-438. 9. Sondley, I, 396-398, 420-421. 10. The grant given to Burton is given in Sondley, II, 838, and in Smathers, 42. For the grant to William Moore, see Smathers, 31-32, and for the one to Davidson, see Smathers, 9. Other early grants are given by Smathers, 42-43; 50-52. 11. Patton, The Story of Henderson County, 20-25, 27-32; Allen, Chap. 11. 12. Allen, The Annals of Haywood County, 35-39. 13. Sondley, I, 444-447. 14. Ibid. 15. "John Brown's Journal of Travel in 1795", in N.C.H.R., Vol. XI, (October, 1934), 304. 16. Ibid. �414 / Notes 17. Patton, Pages From the History of Speculation Land; Patton, Sketches of Polk County History, 11-19; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 135-141. 18. Allen, The Annals of Hay wood County, Chaps. II, VI. CHAPTER 11 Weaving a Homespun Pattern of Living 1. Sondley, I, 398 ff., 428-441. 2. The pioneers were faced with the necessity of constructing their first homes in the shortest possible time, and they considered these structures temporary. The size of each house was determined not by the number of members in the family, but by the length of the logs to be used. Twenty-four feet made logs about as long as would insure uniformity of size and about as long as could easily be handled. However, many of the mountain cabins, perhaps most of the earliest ones, were not twentyfour feet long. Frances Johnston and Thomas T. Waterman, The Early Architecture of North Carolina, 3. See also Patton, Henderson County, 17-18; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 256-259, 263-264; Davidson, 6-7. 3. Alley, 257; Davidson, 6-7. 4. Alley, 260-271; Sondley, I, 427-430; Davidson, 6-7. 5. Williams, Chap. XXXIII; Arthur, Western North Carolina, Chap. XI; D. J. Whitener, The History of Watauga County, 29-41. 6. Griffin, 120, 144; Sondley, I, 481, II, 711-723. 7. Sondley, I, 398, 400. 8. Patton, Henderson County, 24. 9. Sondley, I, 402-404. 10. Ibid., I, 339-400; Griffin, 52, 82, 141-143; Arthur, 284. John Brown's "Journal" in N.C.H.R., vol. XI, 304. Used with permission. 11. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 284; Sondley, II, 497-500; Patton, Henderson County, 26-27; Guion G. Johnson, Ante-Bellum North Carolina: A Social History, 105-110; John Brown's Journal. 12. "Diary of a Journey of Moravians From Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, to Wachovia, North Carolina," Travels in the American Colonies, 350. 13. Whitener, 28-29; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 82-83. 14. Arthur, op. cit., 232-235. 15. Sondley, II, 608-610. 16. Ibid., II, 463; 600-606. 17. Francis Asbury, Journal, II, 481. 18. Aid. 19. Ibid., Ill, 91, 134. For the conditions of the roads, see John Brown's "Journal of Travels in 1795," N.C.H.R., XI (October, 1934), 284-313. 20. Griffin, 2. 21. Ibid., 149-150. 22. Asbury, II, 189. 23. Susan F. Cooper (ed.), William West Skiles, 10. 24. Lefter. and Newsome, 250-251. 25. Griffin, 5, 584-587; Camp, 13-14. 26. George W. McCoy, The First Presbyterian Church, Asheville, North Carolina, 4-12. �Notes / 415 27. Charles B. Williams, A History of the Baptists in North Carolina, 19-20. 28. Griffin, 587. 29. Williams, 100-107; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 223-226; Arthur, Watauga County, 71-77; 98-113. 30. Williams, 107; Sondley, II, 780-781. 31. Griffin, 590-592. 32. Asbury, II, 77. 33. Camp, 13-14. 34. Sondley, II, 676-685. 35. Patton, Henderson County, 27-32. 36. Ibid, 1., 30; Sondley, II, 708; Johnson, Ante Bellum North Carolina, 370-402. 37. Asbury, Journal, II, 133. 38. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 421-423; Clement Dowd, Zebulon Baird Vance, 12. 39. Camp, 12. 40. Griffin, 151. 41. Sondley, II, 705-708; McCoy, 4-12. 42. When in 1776 the Watauga Settlement petitioned the General Assembly to be recognized as a part of North Carolina under the name of Washington District, the petition was signed by 463 settlers. Only ten of them had to use marks. See Williams, The Lost State of Franklin, Appendix B; State Records, XXII, 705-714. CHAPTER 12 Boundaries and Western Leadership 1. North Carolina's commissioners were Christopher Gale, Edward Moseley, William Little, and John Lovick. The surveyors were Samuel Swann and Edward Moseley. At the place from which the Virginians turned back east, Byrd wrote; * 'Hereabouts from one of the Highest hills, we made the first Discovery of the Mountains, on the Northwest of our course ... They looked like Ranges of Blue clouds rising one above the other." [sic] History of the Dividing Line, 194. This early colonial survey is perhaps the best known one in American history due to Byrd's record of it. Written in an urbane, ironic style copied from eighteenth century English writers, it was the first writing produced in the colonies to have literary value. The mileage figures have been differently given. The one used here is from Lefler and New some, 6667. See Connor, I, 5-9. 2. William K. Boyd, The Federal Period, 74-76. 3. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 37-38; Arthur, Watauga County, 117-121, John Strother, Diary and Field Notes, 1799. 4. The "Rainbow" dispute was not settled until 1914. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 48-49; The Papers of Archibald D. Murphey, II, 119; 190. 5. Lefler, History of North Carolina, II, 172-173; Lefler and Newsome, 149152; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 28-32; Connor, I, 5-9; Wallace, Chap. XX. A detailed study of the North Carolina-South Carolina dispute over their common boundary is given by M. L. Skaggs in his The North Carolina Boundary Disputes Involving Her Southern Line, part I. 6. Skaggs, part II; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 32-37; Connor, I, 5-9; D. �416 / Notes R. Goodloe, ''North Carolina and the Georgia Line," N.C.B., no. 12, 122; Papers of Archibald D. Murphey, II, 189-190; E. M. Coulter, Georgia: A Short History, 223. 7. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 51-55. The text of this treaty settling this boundary is given in Indian Affairs, II, 72-73. For a history of the difficulties arising over the Meigs-Freeman line, involving a long series of law suits, see Smathers, The History of Land Titles in Western North Carolina, 59-132. 8. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 11-17. 9. Lefler and Newsome, 294-297; Griffin, 155-162. 10. Ashe, II, 235; Mooney, 93-96. 11. Connor, I, 443-474; Lefler and Newsome, Chap. 20; Griffin, 167-168. 12. United States Census for 1790 and 1830. 13. These lists of slaves are among the McDowell family papers, now in possession of Miss Margaret Ligon of Asheville. 14. Lefler and Newsome, 298-302. 15. Ibid., 303-304; In urging his program of internal improvements, Murphey admitted that "few men have the courage to impose taxes." Papers of Archibald Murphey, II, 179. In 1817 the state received from the western counties of Ashe, Burke, Rutherford, Wilkes, Buncombe, and Haywood a total of $4483.14 in taxes. Murphey, II, 171. 16. Lefler and Newsome, 308-311; Ashe, II, 200-201; Connor, I, 469-474. 17. Lefler and Newsome, 304-306; Griffin, 163-169. The census of 1850 showed that one third of all natives of North Carolina then living in the United States lived in states other than North Carolina. Some 400,000 had left the state. Connor, Ante Bellum Builders of North Carolina, 24. 18. Connor, op. cit., 18, 24, 33-62; Connor, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, I, 475-495; Ashe, II, 246-249; Lefler, History of North Carolina, I, 309-315; Boyd, 91-100. 19. The Papers of Archibald D. Murphey, II, 189. 20. The "Memoir" is given in full in The Papers of Archibald D, Murphey, II, 103-195. 21. Murphey, "Report of the Committee on Public Education, December 19, 1816," Papers of Archibald D. Murphey, II, 49-56; History of North Carolina Told by Contemporaries, 164-168; Lefler, I, 315-319; Boyd, 101-104; M.C.S. Noble, A History of the Public Schools of North Carolina, 34-42. From 1790 to 1802 the General Assembly considered not one bill relating to education and the same can be said of it from 1804 to 1815. Connor, Ante Bellum Builders, 15. 22. Between 1776 and 1833, eighteen new counties were established in the piedmont and mountain sections of the state, and fifteen were established in the eastern section. Yet between 1790 and 1840 the population of the piedmont and mountain sections increased 156 per cent, while that of the eastern section increased 53 per cent. Connor, op. cit., 29. For western legislators to get a bill passed creating a new county it was necessary for them to vote for a new eastern county; moreover, they were forced to have their new counties named for eastern leaders. Boyd, pp. 147-148. See also Boyd, 139-165; Lefler and Newsome, 307311. For the Constitution of 1776, see State Records, XXIII, 980-984. It is also given in History of North Carolina Told by Contemporaries, 105-111. �Notes / 417 23. Lefler and Newsome, 332-336; The Constitution of 1776; Connor, Ante Bellum Builders, 25-26. 24. Ashe, II, 255-260; Lefler and Newsome, 316-317. 25. Griffin, 186-187. 26. Ashe, II, 277. 27. Ibid., II, 290, 305. 28. Ibid., II, 293-295; Lefler and Newsome, 317-318; Noble, A History of the Public Schools, chap. V. 30. Connor, Ante Bellum Builders, 66-95; Lefler and Newsome, 326-331; Ashe, II, 350-363; Sondley, II, 765-767. 31. Lefler and Newsome, 334-337. 32. Ibid.; Ashe, II, Chap. XXIII. For the voting returns by counties, see North Carolina Manual, 1913, 1010-1013. 33. Lefler and Newsome, 337-341; Connor, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, I, 518-536; Ashe, II, Chap. XXII. CHAPTER 13 Gold in the Hills and on the Highways 1. Lefler and Newsome, 371-372; Griffin, 195. The name Dahlonega, site of the rich Georgia gold mines, is a corruption of the Cherokee word tah lo ne ga} meaning yellow or gold colored. Lanman. "Letters From the Alleghany Mountians," Adventures in the Wilds of the United States, I, 344. See also T. Conn Bryan, The Gold Rush in Georgia, 2. Lefler and Newsome, 371; Fletcher M. Green, "Gold Mining: A Forgotten Industry of Ante Bellum North Carolina," N.C,H.R.,XIV (January, 1937), 7. According to tradition, the lump of gold ore was used for two or three years by the Reed family as a doorstop. Then the father, John Reed, sold it, returning home with $3.50. See Bruce Roberts' The Carolina Gold Rush, 3. These counties, listed by state geologists, are sections of Montgomery, Anson, Mecklenburg, Cabarrus, Randolph, Rowan, Davidson, Burke, Union, Stanley, Catawba, Guilford, and Rutherford. Adjacent areas in South Carolina produced limited amounts, while mines in northern Georgia were heavy producers and played a decisive part in the history of Western North Carolina from 1815 to 1838. Griffin, 195. 4. Bryan, op, cit.; Green, 8-9. 5. The North Carolina Spectator and Western Advertiser, March 26, 1830. In Griffin, 205. 6. Green, 12. 7. Ibid., 15-17. 8. Various issues of The North Carolina Spectator, quoted by Griffin, 204-205. 9. Green, 152; Lefler and Newsome, 371. 10. Green, 138; Lefler and Newsome, 372. See Bruce Roberts, The Carolina Gold Rush. 11. Green, 138, 152, Griffin, 204-207; Lefler and Newsome, 371-372. 12. Bechtler's advertisement in the North Carolina Spectator of August 27, 1831. It is given by Griffin, 197-198. 13. Ibid. �418 / Notes 14. 15. 16. 17. Ibid., 196-204; Green, 139-145. Griffin, 201-202; Green, 142-145. Green, 140; Lefler and Newsome, 372; Roberts, 30. For contemporary descriptions of the gold mines, Bechtler's mint, and the gold country, see History of North Carolina Told by Contemporaries, 244249. 18. Lefler and Newsome, 316-317; Sondley, II, 617-619. 19. Sondley, II, 609. 20. Journal, 111, 133. 21. Sondley, II, 609, 617-619. 22. Ibid., II, 619-621. Wilma Dykeman gives a vivid description of these autumn drives in her book The French Broad, Chap. 9. 23. Sondley, II, 619. 24. Ibid., II, 619-621. 25. Ibid. 26. Arthur, Watauga County, 114-115; Griffin, 163. 27. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 239-240. 28. Small scattered passages pertaining to the Turnpike appeared in this author's Spire in the Mountains, pages 26-27. They are used with the permission of the First Presbyterian Church of Asheville, copyright holder. CHAPTER 14. Light and Shade in the Mountains 1. Sondley, II, 626. 2. Lefler and Newsome, 107-110; Johnston and Waterman, Early Architecture in North Carolina, 3-8. 3. Such a farmstead has been reconstructed by moving buildings from various farms to a site in the Floyd Bottoms, bordering the Oconaluftee River between the village of Cherokee and Smokemont Camping Grounds in the Smokies. This project, called the Pioneer Farmstead, consists of a house and some dozen out-buildings, the barn being the only structure originally on the site. After the Civil War, the Floyd farm was a stand for drovers bringing their cattle over the road that William H, Thomas and his Cherokee Legion had constructed across the Smokies by way of Indian Gap. George McCoy, "Farmstead Depicts Early Days in Western North Carolina," Asheville Citizen-Times, August 30, 1953. 4. Kephart, Our Southern Highlanders (1913 edition), 110-125. 5. Beard and Beard, History of the United States, 168. 6. Griffin, 142; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 284. 7. Griffin, 130, 136; Sondley, 11, 617-619. 8. Sondley, II, 622. 9. Ibid., II, 621-622; Griffin, 184-186. 10. Ashe, II, Chap. XXV; Sondley, II, 621-622. 11. See note 10. 12. Deyton, "Toe River Valley/' 450-454. Except for minor changes, this manner of life persisted in the isolated coves for a century. See Kephart (1913 edition), chaps. XI-XII. 13. Of necessity people learned to set bones and to care for the sick. Many women became expert nurses, and all learned to gather healing herbs. �Notes / 419 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. For a list of these, see Johnson, ^4«fe Bellum North Carolina, 752-753, and Patton, Henderson County, 56-58. A list of diseases suffered by mountain people and the names of physicians practicing in Asheville from 1793 to 1885 are given by G. S. Tennent in his Medicine in Buncombe County Down to 1885. Guion G. Johnson, Ante-Bellum North Carolina, 309-330. The Plott family in the Plott Balsam area have for generations been renowned as hunters. They developed a breed of fine hunting dogs known as Plott hounds. Of all the many hunters, however, perhaps the best known was Big Tom Wilson, whose hunting domain was the Black Mountain range. It was Wilson who located the body of Dr. Elisha Mitchell. See Chapter XVII. Kephart (1913 edition), 305-353; (1922 edition), Chap. V. Ibid. (1913 edition), 40-41; Deyton, 454. Connor, Ante Bellum Builders, 87-88; Ashe, II, 374-375. "Report of the President and Directors of the Literary Fund, November, 1838," Beginnings of Public Education in North Carolina, 827-850, 893-912; Lefler and Newsome, 350-352. Lefler and Newsome, 350-352. The School Law of 1839 is given in History Told By Contemporaries, 188-189. Deyton, 448. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 420-447; Boyd, 243-251; Ashe, II, 406407; Deyton, 448-449; Johnson, 309-330. See his "Letters on Public Education," The Beginnings of Public Education in North Carolina, 548-613. M. S. C. Noble, A History of the Public Schools in North Carolina, Chap. VI; Lefler and Newsome, 351-352. Lefler and Newsome, 363; Connor, 95-100. Noble, 145-187. Ibid., 210-229. Deyton, 449. CHAPTER 15. . The Crack of Doom in the Mountains 1. In addition to the treaties so far mentioned, the Cherokees in Tennessee lost land through treaties with the federal government in 1804 and 1805. See Indian Affairs, II, 82-91. On March 22, 1816, the Cherokees sold their remaining land in South Carolina to that state for $5,000. Mooney, 84, 97. 2. An account of this historic meeting has been left by an unknown "writer. The complete manuscript is quoted by W. C. Allen in his Annals of Hay wood County, 44-46. Alley has quoted it from Allen in his Random Thoughts, 327-328. It is also given in John Parris, The Cherokee Story, 3537, and in Glenn Tucker, Tecumseh, 212-213. 3. Among Junaluska's volunteers were Sequoyah and John Ross. Jackson had Cherokees from the Lower Towns in his forces when Junaluska and his warriors joined the campaign. He also had a small number of Creeks loyal to the Americans. Of these Creeks, 5 lost their lives and 11 were wounded in the battle. Of the Cherokees, 18 were killed and 36 �420 / Notes 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. wounded. Mooney gives the total number of Indians with Jackson as 500. Some writers have given the number as 600. Mooney lists the casualties among the Creeks as follows; 557 warriors killed; 253 more shot in the water as they attempted to escape; 300 prisoners taken, mostly women and children. Only 20 men escaped. Of the Americans, 26 were killed and 107 wounded. Mooney, 87-97; Ashe, II, 235; R. S. Cotterill, The Southern Indians, 176-190; Marion L. Starkey, The Cherokee Nation, 22-26; H. C. Wilburn, Junaluska, 7-8. There was some opposition within the Cherokee nation to this reorganization and to the constitution. Among those opposing both was the influential chief, White Path. This leader distrusted the Americans and foretold catastrophe to the Cherokees if they adopted American institutions and forms of government. He gained a small following of nationalists or anti-Americans, known as Red Sticks. However, sentiment in the nation as a whole was against White Path and he was deposed. He lived to see his prophesies come to pass and he trudged west with his people. He did not reach the new land, for he died on the way. Mooney, 106-114; Milling, 341-343. In 1839 Robert Strange published a novel based on the Cherokee removal and named it for Yonaguska. He spelled the name Eoneguski. This was the first piece of fiction dealing with a North Carolina subject written by a North Carolinian. Lefler and Newsome, 389; Lanman, "Letters From the Alleghany Mountains," 417-421. Alley, 328-330; Mooney, 164-165. It is possible that Junaluska was never chosen a chief. The title may well have been attached to his name out of respect for his achievements. See Wilburn, Junaluska. Parris, 46; Mooney, 112-114; 224-225; Milling, Chap. XVII. Parris, 51-58; Milling, 342-343; Starkey, Chap. V; George E. Foster, SeQuo-yah: The American Cadmus, Chaps. VIII-IX; Mooney, 106-135. Mooney, 111-112; Parris, Chaps. VII-VIII. Parris, Chaps. VII-VIII; Mooney, 111-112. John Eliot in New England translated parts of the Bible into an Indian language or dialect in 1653, but did not, of course, work out an Indian written language. Mooney, 109-110; Starkey, 99. Mooney, 83-84, 112-114; Starkey, 29-42. R. S. Cotterill, The Southern Indians, 191-210. The text of this treaty is given in Indian Affairs, II, 140-144. Mooney, 106. For the text of this treaty, see Indian Affairs, II, 177-181. Mooney, 116-127; Starkey, 100-118; Cotterill, 211-230. See Note 15. Mooney, 120; Grant Foreman, Indian Removal, 233, 238. The Indian tenure of lands in Georgia had been a festering sore with that state since its cession of western lands to the federal government. Georgia lost much land through this cession and was eager to open land within its borders to white settlements. The federal government in 1802 agreed, therefore, to move all Georgia Indians west as soon as such a step could be taken peaceably. By the time its gold mines attracted wide attention, Georgia felt that the removal was long overdue and that the national government was grossly negligent in fulfilling its promise. The state also resented the federal government's handling of the Native Americans since it led these unwanted residents of Georgia to expect permanent �Notes / 421 occupancy of the lands that had once been the Over Hill and Lower Towns section of their nation. See E. M. Coulter, Georgia: A Short History, 223-237. 18. Mooney, 125-126; Starkey, 53-59, 118-129; Foreman, 265-269. The Treaty of New Echota is given in Indian Affairs, II, 439-449. 19. Milling, 349. Foreman, 272, gives this statement made by General Wool, "The whole scene since I have been in this country has been nothing but a heartrending one/' 20. The treatment of the Cherokees from 1815 to 1839 is a dark blot on the history of the white man's relation with the Native Americans. It has been the subject of much research by scholars and has been the theme of much writing. Its dramatic features made it the subject of the first piece of North Carolina fiction produced by a North Carolinian on a topic concerning his own state, and the conflict has come to life for 4,000,000 people who have viewed Kermit Hunter's drama, Unto These Hills, presented each summer at the Mountainside Theater at Cherokee. For a detailed account of the removal and of the chain of events leading up to it, see Grant Foreman's Indian Removal. See also Starkey, Chaps. XVXVIII; Thomas Parker, The Cherokee Indians, Chaps. III-IV; Milling, 332382. 21. Parris, 71-77; Mooney, 157; Hunter, Unto These Hills; Milling, 368-370. 22. See Note 21. 23. Through the efforts of Samuel E. Beck of Asheville, a trustee of the Cherokee Historical Association, and Robert B. Barker, a lawyer in Washington, D. C., and a native of Andrews, official documents concerning the Indian removal were located in the War Department in 1957, some 119 years after the events they describe transpired. These documents, in the form of letters giving official reports of army officers, contain the story of Tsali's role in Cherokee history. Copies of these letters, presented to Mr. Beck, are now in the Cherokee Museum at Cherokee. The account given in this chapter is based upon the letters of Lieutenant Smith and Captain Larned to Colonel Foster and upon Colonel Foster's report to his superior officer, all of which were forwarded to General Scott. General Scott, in turn, sent the letters, together with a brief note, to Brigadier-General R. Jones, Adjutant General of the United States. 24. While the account given by the American officers removes the aura of martyrdom from Tsali, it confirms the fact that through his death a thousand Cherokees were allowed to stay in the mountains of Western North Carolina. It also confirms the fact that the younger son was allowed to survive. 25. Thomas's ability and sincerity were felt not only by the Cherokees, who had accepted him as a member of their nation and the adopted son of their beloved chief, but also by white men coming into the Indian country. In his report to General Scott, Colonel Foster wrote: "I should do my feelings great injustice were I to omit to represent to you, and through you to the government—Mr. Wm. E.fsic] Thomas in the most favorable light and as an individual deserving the confidence and patronage of the Country—both for himself—and the Oconolufty[sic] Indians—on whom he appears to exercise unbounded influence for good purpose." �422 / Notes 26. It was barely ten years after the forlorn group of Cherokees straggled down from the hills that Charles Lanrnan made his horseback tour through Western North Carolina. As a guest of Thomas, he spent several days at Qualla, where he had the opportunity of studying conditions in the new nation. He found the Cherokees a well organized governmental unit with a practically self-sufficient economy. They raised their food, grain, vegetables, and fruits on their small, allotted farms and owned herds of cattle and their farm animals. They manufactured their guns and their plows, axes, and other tools. The women wove the cloth that they fashioned into clothing. The people, he learned, were temperate, moral, responsible in their obligations, and faithful to their professed religion. They had their own courts and kept up their own roads. In fact, he found the Cherokees the "happiest community that I have yet met in this Southern country/' Letters From the Alleghany Mountains, 407-409. 27. In 1910 the General Joseph Winston Chapter, D.A.R., erected a marker at the tomb of Junaluska and his wife. It carries the following inscription: "Here lie the bodies of the Cherokee Chief Junaluska and his wife, Nicie. Together with his warriors, he saved the life of Andrew Jackson at Horse Shoe Bend, and for his bravery and faithfulness, North Carolina made him a citizen and gave him lands in Graham County. He died November 20, 1858, aged more than one hundred years." The date of Junaluska's birth is not known, but H. C. Wilburn, a student of Cherokee history, states that it is unlikely that he attained the age generally ascribed to him. See his Junaluska. CHAPTER 16 More Government for Western North Carolina 1. Lefler and Newsome, 334. By 1830 the piedmont and mountain counties had a population of 374,092 as compared with 363,896 in the eastern counties. Between 1830 and 1840 the piedmont population gained rapidly, greatly widening the difference between the sections. 2. Such treaties were also opening Cherokee lands in Tennessee to white settlements. 3. Dowd, Zebulon Baird Vance, 149. 4. Colonel Joab L. Moore served as deputy sheriff. He was responsible to Colonel James McKee, sheriff of Hay wood County. C. D. Smith, A Brief History of Macon County, I. 5. Mrs. Lester Conley, "Macon County Was Created in 1828," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; The State, July 4, 1942, 1-2, 17-18; June 26, 1943, 19-23, 28. 6. "Indian Mound Deeded to Macon Residents," Asheville Citizen-Times, October 13, 1946. 7. C. D. Smith, A Brief History of Macon County. 8. In 1867 General Thomas Clingman became interested in mines in the present Mitchell County, especially the Sink Hole and the Clarissa, believing that they might profitably be worked. He based his faith in their output upon the fact that a slab taken from one of them showed marks made by metal tools. These tools, he felt, had been those of early �Notes / 423 Spanish prospectors. Deyton, 428; Selections From the Writings of Thomas L. Clingman, 130-133. 9. Deyton, 432 £; The State Magazine, May 2, 1942, 1-2, 16-18. 10. Deyton, 442-443. 11. Patton, Henderson County, 54-55. 12. Ibid., 63, 88-90. 13. Journal, 111, 237. 14. Patton, op. cit., 85-96. 15. Ibid., chap. 7. 16. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 62-64; Mrs. C. W. Savage, "Cherokee Was Named for Indians," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; Margaret W. Freel, Our Heritage; The People of Cherokee County, Chaps. I-V. 17. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 51-54; Fred G. Mahler, "Created Out of Burke and Wilkes, Caldwell Established in 1841," Lenoir NewsTopic, October 25, 1934; "Forts and Stockades Protected Citizens of Caldwell Territory From Threatened Invasion of Indian Attacks," Lenoir News-Topic, September 9, 1941; The State Magazine, September 26, 1936, 12-15; January 31, 1942, 1-3, 18-22; May 20, 1944, 16-24. 18. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 142-144; "Interesting Facts About McDowell County," Asheville Citizen-Times, November 27, 1936; "McDowell County is Described by Story on Radio," Radio speech by Paul J. Story and reported in Asheville Citizen-Times, November 27, 1936; The State Magazine, December 25, 1937, 23-28; July 19, 1941, 3-6, 24-25; April 15, 1944, 18-24. 19. Whitener, History of Watauga County, 36-37. 20. Ibid., Arthur, Watauga County, 114-116; The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 220-223. 21. Lefler and Newsome, 334; Appendix B. 22. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 144; George W. McCoy, "Madison County to Mark Its Centennial," Asheville Citizen-Times, January 14, 1951; The State Magazine, April 25, 1942, 1-2, 16-19. 23. Parris, 93-97. 24. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 129-130; John Parrish and Clarence Griffin, Historical Sketch of Jackson County; Larry W. Mull, "Jackson County," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; The State Magazine, June 27, 1942, 1-2, 16-18; July 3, 1943, 16-21. 25. Patton, Sketches of Polk County, 25-27; Griffin, 231-233. 26. Patton, op. cit., 27-31; Chap. 4; Griffin, 233-236. 27. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 4-7; The State Magazine, September 5, 1942, 1-2, 19-20. 28. Patton, Henderson County, 103-116; The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 204-205; Ora L. Jones, "Transylvania County—What it Was and Is," Asheville Citizen-Times, January 7-March 24, 1917;_ The State Magazine, June 20, 1942, 1-2, 16-18; June 19, 1942, 16-21. 29. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 63-64; Mrs. Robert Penland, "Clay County Makes Progress," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; The State Magazine, October 4, 1941, 5-6, 20. 30. The Formation of North Carolina Counties, 53; The State Magazine, June 14, 1952. The laws creating many of these counties and those adjusting their boundary lines are given by Smathers in his History of Land Titles, 133142. �424 / Notes CHAPTER 17. The Lure of the Mountains 1. The Reverend Mr. Skiles described the people coming to his first service in these words: "Men and women came straggling in, many on foot, some on horseback, the wife in sun-bonnet and straight, narrow gown, riding behind her husband. Here and there a woman was seen mounted on a steer, with a child or two in her arms, while the husband, walking beside them, goad in hand, guided the animal over the rough path...There were many more feet than shoes in the congregation." Cooper, A Sketch of a Missionary Life, 6-13. 2. A. S. Merrimon, "Journal, 1853-54," N.C.H.R., VIII (July, 1931), 318329. 3. This organization was given the name of Little Brittain [sic] Temperance Society, Auxiliary to the American Temperance Society. A constitution was formulated and a record made by the secretary, Henry M. Kerr. The group had 87 members. Griffin, 179-181. 4. Johnson, 88-89. In 1859 F. L. Wilson of the North Carolina Standard, Raleigh newspaper, visited Asheville and seemed surprised to find that the westerners, instead of being savages, were "intelligent, high-minded, hospitable, and civilized." Quoted by Johnson, 34. 5. Sondley, II, 621-624. 6. "Letters From the Alleghany Mountains," 408-413. 7. Patton, Henderson County, 96-97; Wilbur Zeigler and Ben Grosscup, In The Heart of the Alleghanies, 350-351; Edward R. Memminger, An Historical Sketch of Flat Rock. 8. Patton, Flat Rock, 96-99. 9. Ibid., 216-217; Memminger, op. cit. 10. The rectory was built between 1832 and 1836 for the Reverend T. W. S. Mott and it later became known as the Diamond-in-the-Desert. From it, according to tradition, the first Confederate flag displayed in Western North Carolina waved. Shortly after 1850, the Reverend John Grimke Drayton came to Flat Rock as a resident at Ravenwood and was for many years rector at St. John-in-the-Wilderness. Patton, op. cit., 200213. 11. It is said that the Fletcher Church, completed in 1857, owed its organization to a meeting of estate owners held in the back parlor of the home of Alexander Blake, who gave the land for the edifice. 12. A. W. Long, "History of Transylvania County," Asheville Citizen-Times, May 8, 1941. 13. The names given to a few of these estates were: Mountain Lodge, home of the Charles Barings, who later built Highland Lake; Argyle, home of Judge Mitchell King; The Meadows, home of Daniel Blake of Fletcher; Rock Hill, home of C. C. Memminger and later the home of Carl Sandburg and called Connemara; The Castle, home of Count Joseph Marie Gabriel St. Xavier de Choiseul; Piedmont, the home of the Reverend Charles Cotesworth Pinckney; Beaumont, the home of Andrew Johnstone; Brookland, the home of Edmund Molyneaux; Glenroy, the home of Dr. Mitchell King; and Ravenwood, the home of the Reverend John Grimke Drayton. See Memminger, Historical Sketch of Flat Rock and Patton, Flat Rock. �Notes / 42514. In order to have a hotel, estate owners formed a company, each contributing $1000 toward the project. Henry Farmer, nephew of Mrs. Charles Baring, became the manager and a year later purchased the hotel. It was the first of the resort hotels for which Western North Carolina was in time to be famous. This hotel is still in operation under the name Woodfleld Inn. 15. Sondley, II, 587-596, 609. 16. Charles Lanman, visiting Patton's hotel at Warm Springs, has left a vivid description of it and of the Painted Rock in his Letters From the Alleghany Mountains, 433-435. 17. Sondley, II, 609, 769. 18. Lanman, 427. 19. Sadie S. Patton, "Fame of Western North Carolina as Major Health Resort Dates From 18th Century," The Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950. 20. Sondley says that the grave of John Lyon, whose remains were moved from the churchyard of the First Presbyterian Church in Asheville to the newly opened Riverside Cemetery, was the first one there to have a stone. The marker was made possible by contributions sent by friends in Scotland. Buncombe County, II, 625-626, 715-719. 21. Sondley, Appendix M. 22. Ibid.; Charles A. Shull, "Fringed Bell: A New Name for Rare Shortia" Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950. 23. Sondley, II, 528-529. 24. Sondley traces the dispute between Clingman and Mitchell. See his Buncombe County, II, 529-565. 25. Mitchell, Diary of a Geological Tour. This was edited by Dr. Kemp P. Battle, who wrote the introduction. 26. Mitchell, 52. 27. Sondley, II, 532. 28. An account of the search written by Judge David Schenck, together with the story as told by Big Torn Wilson, appeared in the Asheville Citizen of November 20, 1887. A reprint appeared in the Anniversary issue of the Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950. See also Dykeman, Chap. V. 29. George W. McCoy, "Guyot: Greatest Explorer of Appalachian Mountains," Asheville Citizen-Times, June 18, 1950; Sondley II, 555; Dictionary of American Biography, VIII, 63-64. 30. Guyot, "Measurements of the Mountains of North Carolina." This information was given in a letter written to the editor of the Asheville News and printed in the issue of July 18, 1860. It is given in The Writings of Thomas L, Clingman, 138-147, and in Sondley, Appendix A. See also Guyot, "Notes on the Geography of the Mountain District of Western North Carolina." These notes, dated February 22, 1863, were found in 1929 in the library of the Coast and Geodetic Survey and were edited by Myron A. Avery and Kenneth Boardman in N.C.H.R., XV (July, 1938), 251-290. �426 / Notes CHAPTER 18 Whigs in the Mountains 1. Lefler and Newsome, 328; William K. Boyd, The Federal Period, 166. 2. Deyton, 460. 3. Almost 22,000 of the 33,993 votes returned for Dudley came from the "back country" and the mountains. However, in addition to Yancey County, Ashe, Haywood, and Macon Counties returned majority votes for Richard Dobbs Spaight, the Democratic candidate. Hamilton, Party Politics in North Carolina, 39; Lefler and Newsome, 343. 4. Hamilton, op. tit,, 553-568; Lefler and Newsome, 343-345; Samuel A'C Ashe, The History of North Carolina, II, Chap. XXVI. 5. For the candidates these canvasses were strenuous, especially in the mountain section of the state with its wretched roads. In 1840, John Motley Morehead spent from March to August traveling by any means available to all parts of the state. The towns and villages greeted him with bands and parades and barbecues, arranged by the county party committees. These committees distributed the party's broadsides and newspapers to the assembled crowds. A vivid description of these meetings is given by Boyd, 266-270, 278-280, and by Hamilton, op. cit., 553-568. The party platform in the 1840 election is given in Porter, National Party Platforms, Chap. 1. 6. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 359-363. 7. Ibid,, 367-368; Gilbert, The Public Career of Thomas L. Clingman, 36-40. Among other political figures in Western North Carolina choosing to settle their differences by dueling was Zebulon B. Vance. When he and David Coleman were campaigning for a seat in Congress and, as was customary, were traveling together, Coleman demanded an apology for a personal remark made by Vance. Vance refused, and preparations were made for a duel. Before the date set, Dr. J. F. E. Hardy of Asheville prevailed upon the men to settle their grievances in a more peaceful manner. Clement Dowd, Zebulon B. Vance, 37-38. 8. Griffin, 549-553. 9. Sondley, II, 711. 10. Clarence N. Griffin, The Public Career of Thomas L. Clingman, 549-550; Guion G. Johnson, Ante-Bellum North Carolina, 774-780. 11. Gilbert, 1-22. 12. Ibid, 24-99. 13. Dowd, 2-12. 14. Ibid., 12. Vance's father, moved to the present Marshall when Zebulon was a child. 15. Given in Connor, Ante Bellum Builders, 135. 16. Griffin, 214. 17. Cecil K. Brown, The State Highway System, 3-19. In 1851 the General Assembly passed a bill appropriating $12,000 for a survey for a road from Salisbury to the place where the French Broad River enters Tennessee. The money was to come from Cherokee land sales and from the income from Cherokee land bonds. Too small a sum was realized from these sources to make the survey. Cecil K. Brown, The State Highway System, 97. �Notes / 427 18. Deyton, 444. It was during this period that Judge Agustus C. Merrimon was finding travel over his circuit both disagreeable and time consuming. He could, if fortunate, get from Waynesville to Asheville between noon and bedtime, but when the weather was unfavorable, it took a full day to cover thirty miles. See his Journal, 19. Lefler and Newsome, 345-347; Cecil K. Brown, A State Movement in Railroad Development, Chaps. III-1V. 20. Agitation for state aid in railroad building began as early as 1833, and in that year and the following one, North Carolina issued no less than 10 charters to companies hoping to construct railroads. The state did not promise any of these companies aid. Brown, op. tit., 27. 21. He expressed this view in his message to the General Assembly. Connor, op. tit., 135. 22. Address delivered by Hayne in Charleston, October 22, 1835. Proceedings (Meetings connected with the Louisville, Cincinnati, Charleston Railroad,) part I. 23. Ibid. 24. Ibid., part II. 25. Patton, Henderson County, 220-221; Wallace, 449. 26. The bill was written by W. S. Ashe, a Democrat, and the deciding vote in the .Senate was cast for it by another Democrat, Calvin Graves. Brown, 63-69. 27. Ibid., 90-91.. 28. See his Numbers of Carlton. 29. Romulus S. Saunders, the Democrat defeated by John M. Morehead in the 1840 gubernatorial race, wrote a substitute bill for two pending bills concerning extension of the North Carolina Railroad. His bill provided for chartering two companies, one for an eastern extension and one for a western extension. It easily passed both houses of the Assembly. Brown, 98-99. 30. Ibid., 104. 31. Ibid., 101. 32. In the General Assembly William H. Thomas of Hay wood County argued for the Ducktown route. B. E. Edney of Buncombe County and J. A. Fagg of Madison County argued for the French Broad River route. Brown, op. cit., 140. 33. Ibid., 127-128; Griffin, 239. 34. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 469-473; Brown, op. cit., 142. 35. The Asheville News, February 24, 1859. Quoted by Brown, op. cit., 141142. 36. On June 2, 1859, the voters of Buncombe County voted to authorize the county to subscribe $125,000. Henderson County voters, at a special election, pledged the county to subscribe $100,000. Madison County voters authorized their county to subscribe $50,000. The Asheville News, August 11, 1859. Quoted by Brown, op. cit., 142. 37. Brown, 143-145. 38. Lefler and Newsome, 362. 39. Brown, The State Highway System, 16-17. The Raleigh Register of February 28, 1849, carried an article discussing the cost, the income from, and the advantages of plank roads, "The Poor Man's Railroad." See North Carolina History Told by Contemporaries, 228-235. �428 / Notes 40. 41. 42. 43. Patton, Henderson County, 143; Sondley, II, 623-624. Gilbert, 56. Ashe, II, 486, 491, 503, 512-513. Connor, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, II, 74-76; Porter, National Party Platforms, Chap. 5; Hamilton, Party Politics, 173-174; Selections From the Writings of Thomas L. Clingman, 355-356. CHAPTER 19 War in the Land 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. Boyd, 296-329; Hamilton, Party Politics in North Carolina, 194-200. Porter, Chap. 6.; Eaton, Clement, A History of the Southern Confederacy} 1-22. R. D. W. Connor, North Carolina, 113. Lefler and Newsome, 423. Frontis W. Johnston, The Papers of Zebulon Baird Vance, "Introduction" XXXVI and XXXVII. 6. Lefler and Newsome, 422-423; Dowd, 62-64; Ashe, II, 536-546. 7. Dowd. The entire speech is given, 441 ff. 8. A full discussion of events leading up to the war is given in Lefler, North Carolina, II, Chap. XXVIII. 9. Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860,1-6; See Governor Ellis' letter to Leroy Pope Walker, Secretary of War, April 24, 1861, in History Told By Contemporaries, 290. 10. Griffin, The History of Old Tryon and Rutherford Counties, 249-250. 11. Sondley, II, 813-815; Walter Clark, "The Raising, Organization and Equipment of North Carolina Troops During the Civil War." N.H.C., Bulletin 23. 12. Dowd, 62-70; Sondley, II, 813; Johnston, op, cit., XXXVIII. 13. Allen, Hay wood County, 64. 14. Patton, The Story of Henderson County, 125. 15. Clarence N. Gilbert, The Public Career of Thomas Lanier Clingman, 100-107. 16. Manly Wade Wellman, The Kingdom of Madison, 81. 17. Ora L. Jones, "Transylvania County," Asheville Citizen-Times, February 24, 1917; Griffin, 251-252; Patton, Henderson County, 125. 18. Ora L. Jones "Transylvania County." 19. Sondley, II, 813-815; Griffin, 249-253; Patton, Henderson County, 125. 20. Sondley, II, 691. 21. The United States Census figures for 1860. 22. Alley states as typical his own family. His father joined the Confederate forces and his father's brother the Union forces. Random Thoughts, 2-3; See also Patton, op. cit, 127; Griffin, 249. 23. Deyton, 460; Whitener, Watauga County, 47; Jones, op. cit. 24. Dugger, War Trails of the Blue Ridge, 110-125. 25. Patton, Henderson County, 128; Patton, Polk County, 43-45. 26. Jones, op. cit. 27. Lefler and Newsome, 376-377. 28. Clark, "The Raising of North Carolina Troops,'} N.C.H.C. Bulletin. In an address before the Association of the Maryland Line at Baltimore on February �Notes / 429 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 23, 1885, Vance gave a summary of the goods brought into Wilmington by the Ad-Vance and other state owned blockade runners. See Dowd, 489-490. North Carolina appointed Jonathan Worth as state salt commissioner. Eaton, 249. Nicholas W. Woodfin of Asheville was made an agent for the distribution of salt from the mines at Saltville, Virginia, to Western North Carolina. Hamilton, op, cit., 49; Digges, George, Historical Facts Concerning Buncombe County Government, 206-207. Lefler and Newsome, 437-439; Johnston, op. cit., "Introduction" XLIIXLIII. Clarence D. Douglas, Conscription and the Writ of Habeas Corpus in North Carolina During the Civil War, 5-35. The North Carolina Standard for November 19, 1862, carried a letter from a farmer in Transylvania County telling of the desperate need for salt. Douglas, 5-39; With her husband and five sons in the Confederate army, Mrs. Lane, wife of Captain Lane, is said to have driven with a servant from her farm home in Henderson County to the salt mines in South Carolina to bring back a supply of the precious salt. Patton, Henderson County, 131. Mooney, 168-172; Asheville and Wilkesboro were centers for collecting medicinal herbs and roots gathered by the women and children of the mountain region. Hamilton, op. cit., 48. Mooney, 168-172; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 609; George McCoy, "Trace of Old Thomas Road is Part of Farmstead Museum," Asheville Times, September 13, 1953. CHAPTER 20 War Comes to the Hills 1. North Carolina banks suspended payments in specie in November, 1860. Both the State and the Confederacy issued treasury notes. These depreciated with alarming rapidity. By November, 1864, a State $100 bond was worth $7.50, and a Confederate bond of the same denomination was worth $4.00. As the value of the paper money fell, prices rose. In 1865 enough calico for a woman's dress cost $500. There was, of course, widespread speculation in spite of the efforts of a State Board appointed to set the prices of commodities every two months. Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860, 46-55; Eaton, 239-240. 2. Eaton, 233-236; Lefler and Newsome, 443-444; Lefler, II, 520-521. 3. Ashe, II, 858-859; Arthur, The History of Western North Carolina, 603-604. 4. Many counties of the State had so many deserters before 1863 that the attention of officials was called to them. Wilkes County had "a whole regiment organized and under arms." Hamilton, op. cit., 40. North Carolina during the conflict had 23,694 deserters. Other Confederate states had proportionate numbers. Eaton, 261, 271-279; Ashe, II, 775-776; Lefler and Newsome, 445-446. 5. Wellman, The Kingdom of Madison, 83-84; Ashe, II, 860; Arthur, op. cit., 603; Dykeman, The French Broad, 96-98; See also Governor Vance's letter, Dowd, 74. 6. Ashe, II, 858-859; Arthur, op. cit., 603-605. �430 / Notes 7. Governor Vance insisted upon putting into practice the state's rights doctrine to which the Confederacy owed its being. Thus he held that the military power of the Confederacy must not interfere with the civil rights of citizens and the laws in operation in North Carolina. See his letter of November 11, 1862, to President Davis in which he makes these views clear. See also his letter of March 21,1863, to Secretary Seddonin which he said he had ordered the State Militia to shoot the first man "who attempts to perpetrate a similar outrage without the authority of the marshall of that district." Dowd, 75, 81, 87. See also Lefler and Newsome, 445. 8. Lefler and Newsome, 443; Douglas, 5-39; Eaton, 278-279; Dowd, 78, 81. 9. History Told by Contemporaries, 295; Used with permission of the University of North Carolina Press. 10. Patton, Henderson County, 132; Patton, Polk County, 41; Jones, Transylvania County, 11. Patton, Henderson County, 127-128; Stephens, "Bushwhackers, Renegades, and Ruffians in the Western Mountains." 12. Stephens, op. tit.; Patton, Henderson County, 128; Hughes, Hendersonville in Civil War Times, 25-26; Patton, Polk County, 46. 13. Deyton, 465; Ashe, II, 860. 14. For Governor Vance's letter to Secretary Seddon, April 7,1863, see Dowd, 82. 15. Van Noppen, Stoneman's Last Raid, 20; Dykeman, 117-118. 16. Ashe, II, 860. 17. Allen, 81-82. 18. Dugger, 126-133; In his History of Western North Carolina, 605-608, Arthur gives the details of this raid as told by the guide. 19. Dugger, Chap. Ill; Arthur, History of Watauga County, 174. 20. Dugger, Chap. Ill; Arthur, op. cit., 174-176. 21. Sondley, II, 690; 692-694; Ashe, II, 1006-1007; Sondley, "The Battle of Asheville," Asheville Citizen, September 10, 1927. 22. Terror spread throughout the countryside as word came that Stoneman's troops were approaching. Emma Rankin, a private teacher in the home of Colonel Logan Carson of Pleasant Gardens, four miles from Marion, has left a description of what took place on that plantation. Silverware and jewelry were hastily buried. Clothes were hidden in slave quarters, and food was cached in unlikely places. The farm animals were driven to the wooded hills. Colonel Carson, at the urging of his family, sought personal safety in the hills, and the women were left to face the Union soldiers and carried out their part with bravery. See her Stoneman's Raid, also Hamilton, 36-38; and Lefler, II, 503-504. 23. Patton, Polk County, 45; Ashe, II, 994 ff; Chester S. Davis, "Stoneman's Raid into Northwest North Carolina," Winston-Salem Journal and Sentinel, October 4, 1953; Alfred M. Waddell, The Last Year of the War in North Carolina. See also Spencer, Cornelia Phillips, The Last Ninety Days of the War. The most complete account of this raid is given in Ina Van Noppen's Stoneman's Last Raid. 24. Allen, 83-85. An account of the surrender at Waynesville as written by Lieutenant Colonel William W. Stringfleld of his Memoirs is given by Allen, 91-92. �Notes / 431 CHAPTER 21 The Rebirth of a State 1. By May, 1865, thousands of North Carolina families were penniless. In some cases their homes had been stripped of furniture. Clothing consisted of badly worn garments. These people had no credit and no way of establishing credit. Randolph Shotwell, The Shotwell Papers, II, 215. 2. The General Assembly appropriated, during the four years of the war, $6,000,000 for relief work. When hostilities ceased, the State had on hands a six months' supply of food for 60,000 soldiers. All through the war the fare of both state and Confederate soldiers was simple and monotonous. During the final year, the meals consisted largely of corn bread and black-eyed peas, called by men "The Confederacy's Best Friend." At times sweet potatoes and sorghum varied the menus. Dowd, 489-490; Hamilton, North Carolina Since I860, 48. 3. Prices of other food stuffs were in proportion. Between September, 1860, and March, 1865, the cost of eggs rose from 30 cents a dozen to $5.00 a dozen; corn from $1.00 a bushel to $30.00; and potatoes from $1.00 a bushel to $30.00. Hamilton, 46-48. The Pay of a Confederate soldier was $11.00 a month. As editor and owner of TheAsheville Citizen in 1868-1869, Randolph Shotwell received as payment for subscriptions and job printing "wood, wheat, corn, apples, dried fruit, feathers, and rags." When he sold the paper and returned to Rutherfordton in 1869, he had the sum of $2.50 as his year's net profit. Shotwell, II, 310. 4. Out of the state's total white population of 629, 942, it furnished 124,000 men to the State and Confederate armies, that is, one out of every six persons in the State. Dowd, 465-470. More than 40,000 were killed in battle or died from disease. Thousands of others were maimed for life or suffered through the remainder of their lives from ailments connected to the war service. This appalling number does not include civilian deaths or incapacitating illnesses brought on by sufferings or privations of war. Leiler and Newsome, 448. 5. Griffin, 306, 314. 6. Tennent's letter, dated November 18,1865, is among the McDowell family papers, now in possession of Miss Margaret Ligon of Asheville. 7. From every section of the state lawyers and other leading citizens wrote letters to President Johnson, describing conditions and making appeals for aid. Among them are letters from Western North Carolina, portions of which deal with court cases in the hopelessly war-torn Madison County and Yancey County. Several of these give details of the proceedings connected with the case of the death of Sheriff Ranson P. Merrill. "Letters of North Carolinians to Andrew Johnson." N.C.H.R., XVIII (October, 1951), 507-516; XXIX Qanuary, 1952), 115-117; 264-268. 8. Silas Weston, a Negro, and his family were shot by the Adair gang. Shotwell, II, 478-493. Columbus and Govan Adair, together with another member of their gang, were later hanged for this crime. 9. Ashe. 1016. 10. Ibid. 11. History Told by Contemporaries, 316-317; Lefler and Newsome, 453-455; �432 / Notes 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. Hamilton, Reconstructs in North Carolina., 106-147. See also Francis Butler Simkins, A History of the South, 255-257. Lefler and Newsome, 459-460. Benjamin S. Hedrick was a chemistry professor at the University. Responsibility for his dismissal from the faculty in 1856 was placed upon his colleagues. At a faculty meeting called by President David L. Swain, Hedrick was dismissed by a unanimous vote of the faculty members. He narrowly escaped mob violence in Salisbury and hastened to leave the state. Lefler and Newsome, 419. Late in the war a peace meeting was held in Asheville. It was inspired, however, not by Holden, but by the desperate conditions prevailing in Western North Carolina. Patton, Henderson County, 127. Ashe, II, 1023-1026; 1031-1036; Hamilton, North Carolina Since I860, Chap. V. Ashe, II, 1040-1060; Hamilton, op. cit., 85-113; Hamilton, Reconstruction in North Carolina, 207-252. The Reconstruction Act is given in History Told by Contemporaries, 333-334. Lefler and Newsome, 460. Ibid., 459-460; H. A. Herbert (ed.), Why the Solid South, 70-84; Connor, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, II, 293-299. Ashe, II, 1064-1070; Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860, Chap. VI. The text of the Constitution is given in History Told by Contemporaries, 336-340. The Republican Party was formally organized in North Carolina on March 27, 1867, although for a year before that date, the word Republican had been applied to many citizens. Lefler and Newsome, 459. CHAPTER 22 Long is the Night 1. Hamilton, Reconstruction, 207-252. 2. Griffin, History of Old Tryon and Rutherford Counties, 326; History Told by Contemporaries, 344-345. 3. The relief work done by the Freedrnan's Bureau for needy in North Carolina has not been generally known. Because of this aid, doubtless many of these people became members of the secret organization looked upon with favor by the Bureau and also became members of the Republican Party. See History Told by Contemporaries, 328-329; Lefler, II, 531-532; John Hope Franklin, Reconstruction After the Civil War, 36-39; Allen W. Trelease, White Terror, Introduction, XXIII-XXIV. 4. Sirnkins, A History of the South, 261-262. 5. The password is given in Dykeman, The French Broad, 121. 6. The symbol of a red string was chosen from the story of Rahab, who betrayed her country to the Israelites. She, with her family, was saved by the conquering Hebrews when they saw the red cord with which she had let their spies down over the walls of Jerusalem. Randolph Shotwell estimated that at least 250 of the educated, well-to-do citizens of Rutherford County and surrounding territory had not registered to vote. Shotwell Papers, II, 276 ff. This view is upheld in the excerpts given in History Told by Contemporaries, 318-321. �Notes / 433 7. Franklin, op. dt., 124-126; Ashe, II, 1108-1109; History Told by Contemporaries, 318-321; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 327-343. 8. Ashe, II, 1109; Hamilton, Reconstruction, Chap. VIII. 9. Whitener, Daniel J. Prohibition in North Carolina, 1-14; 50-51. 10. Ibid., 53. 11. These churches were Round Hill and Liberty. They were probably destroyed by the Adair gang. Shotwell, II, 479. 12. Trelease, op. cit,, Note 1, 430; Franklin, op. cit., 153 ff. 13. Mrs. T. J. Jarvis, "The Conditions That Led to the Ku Klux Klans," N.C.B., I (April 10, 1902), 3-24; History Told by Contemporaries, 331-333; Ashe, II, 1061-1071; Hamilton, Reconstruction, Chap. XII. The North Carolina figures given are from Franklin, 157. 14. Griffin, op. cit., 327-328; Shotwell, II, 355; On July 22, 1871, The Rutherfordton Star carried a summary of this event. 15. Griffin, op. cit., 326-327; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 480-481; Shotwell, II, 421. 16. Lefler and Newsome, 470; Hamilton (ed.) "Prison Experiences of Randolph Shotwell," N.C.H.R., II (April, 1925), 147-161; (July, 1925), 332350; (October, 1925), 459-474. When Federal troops entered Rutherford County, citizens of Burnt Chimney drew up a set of resolutions protesting this action on the part of the National Government. The document was printed in The Rutherfordton Star of June 10,1871. It is given in Griffin, 332333. Shotwell was sentenced on the grounds of having participated in the raid on Justice. He was also fined $5,000. 17. Trelease, op. cit., 209. 18. Ibid., 292; Hamilton, North Carolina Since the Civil War, 149-153. 19. Trelease gives the names of the men on Holden's list. 217. 20. Lefler, II, 568-577; The excesses of the "Kirk-Holden War" acted as a boomerang to the leaders in state government and was a factor in the downfall of Governor Holden. At the same time, the anti-Ku Klux Klan laws it called forth brought the beginning of restored order to North Carolina. See History Told by Contemporaries, 341-344. 21. Charges upon which Holden was tried included: declaring martial law in the state, illegally arresting citizens in Alamance, Caswell, and Orange Counties, illegally recruiting soldiers, and refusing to honor writs of habeas corpus. Ashe, II, 1128-1131; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 537-558; History Told By Contemporaries, 341. 22. Lefler and Newsome, 448; 499. 23. Ibid. 24. Hamilton, Reconstruction, 201-206; Griffin, 336. 25. Cecil Brown, A State Movement in Railroad Development, 148-151. 26. Ibid., 188-205. 27. Ibid., 190. 28. Ibid., 191-193. 29. Ashe, II, 1078. 30. Ibid., 1104-1105; Brown, op. cit., 193-196; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 427-451; Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860, 120-127; Lefler II, 561-566. 31. Brown, op. cit. 195-196. �434 / Notes 32. Ibid,, 199-205; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 426-451. The Report of the Commission to Investigate Charge of Fraud and Corruption Under Act of Assembly. Session 187172. 33. Brown, op. cit., 206-224. CHAPTER 23 Dawn Breaks Over the Mountains 1. Griffin, 324; Hamilton, North Carolina Since I860, 161-169; Arthur, Watauga County, 182; Shotwell, II, 421. 2. Formation of North Carolina Counties, 202-205; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 208-212; Smathers, Land Titles, 139-140; Guy Paul, Jr., "Swain County Emphasizing Its Scenic Attractions," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; The State Magazine, July 18, 1942, 1-2, 16-17. 3. Formation of North Carolina Counties, 107-108; Smathers, 135; Dorothy Childers, "Graham Emphasizes Lumbering," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; The State Magazine, July 11, 1942, 1-2, 17-18. 4. Even in reconstruction-torn Rutherford County a trend toward normal conditions was discernible by 1871. Academies were reopening by 1873. Mail service was resumed with some degree of regularity, and in 1874 the county's first textile plant was in operation. Griffin, 336-339. 5. Hamilton, Reconstruction, 642-643; Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860. 188189. The texts of many of these amendments are given in History Told by Contemporaries, 350-351. 6. Griffin 340; Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860, 170-191; Dowd, 147. 7. The Raleigh Sentinel printed an account of the Bakersville rally. The crowd represented a wide territory. Fifty men from Yancey County swam their horses across swollen streams and rode over "the roughest, rockiest road in the United States" to see and hear Vance and Settle. Dowd, 149. 8. For Article IX of the Constitution of 1868, see History Told by Contemporaries, 333-340. 9. In North Carolina 38,649 white men and women and children over ten years of age could neither read not write. During the decade 1870-1880 illiteracy in the state increased. History Told by Contemporaries, 346; Lefler and Newsome, 503; Whitener, Public Education in North Carolina During the Reconstruction, 90. 10. M. C. S. Noble, A History of the Public Schools in North Carolina, 367. In 1870 only about one in ten of the state's children attended school. Whitener, 90. 11. Noble, 356; Hamilton, Reconstruction, 612-613; Mclver's report for 1872 is given in History Told by Contemporaries, 345-347. 12. Lefler and Newsome, 503; Hamilton, North Carolina Since 1860, 359; Edgar W. Knight, "One Hundred Years of Public Education in North Carolina," N.C.E., (February, 1936), 195. 13. Noble, 357-367; Lefler and Newsome, 502. 14. Noble, 367. 15. Ibid., 357-358. �Notes / 435 16. After the Educational Meeting at Raleigh, text books for the public schools were hastily written by North Carolina educators. The following year the publishing house of Sterling, Campbell, and Albright in Greensboro had a series called "Our Own" ready for distribution to the schools. Included in the set were a primer and readers, the work of Charles W. Smythe, two arithmetics by the Reverend S. Landers, and a "Geography Reader For Dixie Children" by Mrs. M. B. Moore. Wiley had earlier written text books, including the North Carolina Reader. William Bingham's Latin Grammar and Caesar were used as was Webster's Blue Back Speller. The new books were generously sprinkled with Confederate propaganda. Sterling and Campbell in their readers gave Bible verses in support of slavery, and the arithmetics presented problems with a war flavor. The most gleefully gory of these problem states, "If one Confederate soldier killed ninety Yankees, how many can ten Confederate soldiers kill?" Allison W. Honeycutt, "Text Book Development," N.C.E., (February, 1936), 227-229, 261, 274; Noble, 237-238. 17. The Bible was frequently used as a text as was whatever almanac happened to be available. Noble, 325; History Told by Contemporaries, 345 ff. 18. At the end of the Reconstruction Period (1876) the school report listed 2,820 schools for white children with an enrollment of 119,083 pupils, less than half of the state's white children. The number of white teachers given was 2,108. Of these 613 were women. In the mountains the salary of teachers ranged from $16 to $25 per month, and many of the schools were in session only six weeks each year. Noble, 367-372. 19. Ibid., 367. 20. Lefler and Newsome, 502; History Told by Contemporaries, 367ff. 21. Noble, 399-409; G. B. Phillips, "The Development of the Graded Schools," N.C.E., (February, 1936), 211-212; Edgar W. Knight, "The Peabody Fund," N.C.E. (February, 1936), 206. In the face of pressing war needs, Wiley had succeeded on December 23, 1864, in getting a bill through the General Assembly, making the state's public school system a graded system. It also set up a six months' term. This law was never put into effect. Noble, 260. 22. Noble, 399-409. 23. Hamilton, North Carolina Since i860, 349-350, 363-364. 24. Ibid., 364-365; Noble, 428ff; Knight, "One Hundred Years of Public Education in North Carolina," N.C.E. (February, 1936), 195-199. 25. Griffin, 338. 26. Camp, 12. 27. The Reverend Jesse Finley had opened the school at Lenoir in 1857. It had continued during the war. 28. James A. Hutchins, Yancey Collegiate Institute at Burnsville; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 424-447; Arthur, Watauga County, 243-264; "Private Schools of Asheville Gain Wide Recognition," Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; "Old Judson College Building is Landmark, "Asheville Citizen-Times, September 13, 1933. 29. Arthur, Western North Carolina, 430-439, 446-447; Arthur, Watauga County, Chap. XV; Bill Sharpe, A New Geography, 230-232. �436 / Notes 30. Brown, A State Movement in Railroad Building, 223-225. 31. In her Land of the Sky, Christian Reid (Frances C. Fisher Tiernan) describes her ride in 1876 from the railroad terminal at Henry to Asheville. The "thirsty men and dusty women" traveled the distance in a coach drawn by "six fine white horses." 32. Lefler and Newsome, 486 ff.; C. R. Sumner, "Railroad Conquered the Blue Ridge, "Asheville Citizen-Times, March 7, 1954. 33. Brown, 223-224. 34. Sondley, II, 630. 35. Sumner, op. cit. In 1881 H. Heaton Coleman, one of the assistant engineers, made a map of the Western North Carolina Railroad and gave the length of the tunnels through the Old Fort-Henry area as follows; Point—216 feet; Jarret's—125 feet; Lick Log—562 feet; McElroy—89 feet; High Ridge— 451 feet; Burgin—252 feet; Swannanoa—1800 feet. The map was verified byj. W. Wilson. 36. Sondley, II, 631-632. 37. Brown, 226-230; Lefler and Newsome, 486-487. 38. Lefler and Newsome, 487; Arthur, Western North Carolina, 473-479. 39. Arthur, op. cit., 473-479. 40. Ibid., 479-484; Patton, Henderson County, 222-226; Hamilton, North Carolina Since I860, Chap. XVIII. 41. Arthur, op. cit., 482-484; Patton, op. cit., 226. 42. In the counties just east of the Blue Ridge a multiplicity of characters was granted to companies during this period, and a confusing number of consolidations took place. Griffin, Chap. 25; John F. Stover, The Railroads of the South, Chaps. IX, XII-XIII. 43. Griffin, Chap. 25, and p. 361; Lefler and Newsome, 487. �S O U R C E S For those interested in doing in-depth study of certain periods of the history of Western North Carolina, source material has been broken into three time areas. MOUNTAINS AND MEN—TO 1781 THE NEW FRONTIERS—TO 1860 THE CIVIL WAR—RECONSTRUCTION DAYS Explanations: To avoid repetitions, the following abbreviations are used: D.U.P. Duke University Papers G.P.O Government Printing Office J.S.H.P N.C.B. N.C.C. and D James Sprunt Historical Publications North Carolina Booklet North Carolina Department of Conservation N.C.E. and Development North Carolina Education N.C.H.C North Carolina Historical Commission N.C.H.R North Carolina Historical Review S.D.A. and H State Department of Archives and History 437 �438 / Sources MOUNTAINS AND MEN—TO 1781 PRIMARY SOURCES Colonial and State Records Easterby, J. H. (ed.). The Journal of the House of Assembly: Colonial Records of South Carolina. 6 vols. Columbia, S. C., Historical Commission of South Carolina, 1951—1955. McDowell, W. L. (ed.). Journal of the Commissioners of the Indian Trade, South Carolina Archives Department, 1955. Saunders, W.L. (ed.). Colonial Records of North Carolina. 10 vols. Raleigh, State Printers, 1886-1890. Personal Accounts, Records, Treaties, Letters Avery, Myron, and Boardman, Kenneth. "Notes on the Geography of the Mountain District of Western North Carolina by Arnold Guyot," N.C.H.R., XV (July, 1938). Fries, Adelaide, (ed). The Records of the Moravians in North Carolina, 1752-1822. 8 vols. Raleigh, 1922-1954. Graham, George W. The Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, May 20, and the Lives of its Signers. New York, 1905. Graham, Major William A. (ed.). General Joseph Graham and his Papers on North Carolina Revolutionary History. Raleigh, 1904. Harriss, Frances Latham, (ed.). History of North Carolina by John Lawson. Richmond, 1952. Henderson, Archibald. 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William Bartram's Travels Through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West of the Muscogules or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Choctaws. New York, 1928. Williams, Samuel C. (ed.). James Adair's History of the American Indians. Johnson City, Tenn., 1930. (ed.). Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 1540-1800. Johnson City, Tenn., 1928. SECONDARY SOURCES Alden, John R.John Stuart and the Southern Colonial frontier. Ann Arbor, Mich., 1944. Allen, W. C. The Annals of Haywood County, North Carolina, 1808-1935. Richmond, 1942. Alley, Felix E. The Random Thoughts and Musings of a Mountaineer. Salisbury, N. C. 1941. Arthur, John P. A History of Watauga County. Richmond, 1915. Western North Carolina: A History From 1730-1913. Raleigh, 1914. Ashe, Samuel A'Court. A History of North Carolina. 2 vols., Greensboro, 1908. "Rutherford's Expedition Against the Indians in 1776." N.C.B., IV (December, 1904). Ayers, H. B. and Ashe, W. W. The Southern Appalachian Mountains. 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Our Heritage: The People of Cherokee County, North Carolina. Asheville, 1956. Gilbert, Clarence N. The Public Career of Thomas Lanier Clingman. Thesis at the University of North Carolina, 1946. Griffin, Clarence W. The History of Old Tryon and Rutherford Counties, 17301936. Asheville, 1937. . The History of Rutherford County, 1937-1951. Asheville, 1951. Western North Carolina Sketches. Forest City, N. C., 1941. �450 / Sources Hamilton, Joseph G. DeRoulhac. The History of North Carolina: North Carolina Since 1860. Chicago, 1919. Party Politics in North Carolina, 1835-1860. J.S.H.P. Durham, 1916. Reconstruction in North Carolina. New York, 1914. Hicks, John D. "The Farmers' Alliance in North Carolina." N.C.H.R. II (April, 1925). Honeycutt, Allison W. ''Text Book Development." N.C.E., II (February, 1936.) Hughes, N. Collin. Hendersonville in Civil War Times. Hendersonville, N. C., 1936. Hunter, C. L. Sketches of Western North Carolina: Historical and Biographical. Raleigh, 1877. Hutchins, James A. A Sketch of Yancey Collegiate Institute at Burnsville. Burnsville, N. C. 1951. Hyman, M. L., Jr. "The Great Reconstructor." N.C.H.R., XXIII (January, 1955). Jarvis, M. W. "The'Conditions that Led to the Ku Klux Klans." N.C.B., I (April, 1902.) Johnson, Guion G. Ante-Bellum North Carolina: A Social History. Chapel Hill, 1935. Jones, Ora L. "Transylvania County." Citizen-Times, February 24, 1917. Knight, Edgar W. "One Hundred Years of Public Education in North Carolina." N.C.E. (February, 1936). "The Peabody Fund." N.C.E. (February, 1936). Lefler, Hugh Talmadge. A History of North Carolina. 4 vols. New York, 1956. and Newsome, Albert Ray. North Carolina: The History of a Southern State. Chapel Hill, 1963. McCoy, George W. The First Presbyterian Church, Asheville, North Carolina. Asheville, 1951. Mead, Martha Norburn. Asheville in the Land of the Sky. Richmond, 1942. Mooney, James. Myths of the Cherokees; Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology. Washington, G.P.O. 1902. Noble, N.C.S. A History of the Public Schools of North Carolina. Chapel Hill, 1930. Olds, F. A. "The Development of North Carolina Railroads." North Carolina Historical and Genealogical Record. V, I (1932). Patton, Sadie Srnathers. Sketches of Polk County History. Asheville, 1950. The Story of Henderson County. Asheville. Price, R. E. Rutherford County: Economic and Social. Chapel Hill, 1918. Reid, Christian (Frances B. Fisher Tiernan). "The Land of the Sky." A serial in Appleton's journal, 1876. Robinson, Blackwell P. (ed.). The North Carolina Guide. Chapel Hill, 1955. Sheppard, Muriel E. Cabins in the Laurel. Chapel Hill, 1935. Simkins, Francis Butler and Roland, Charles Pierce. A History of the South. New York, 1972 (Fourth Edition). �Sources I 451 Smathers, George H. The History of Land Titles in Western North Carolina. Asheville, 1938. Smith, C. D. A Brief History of Macon County, North Carolina. Franklin, N. C., 1921. Sondley, Foster Alexander. Asheville and Buncombe County. Asheville, 1922. A History of Buncombe County, North Carolina, 2 vols. Asheville, 1930. Stephens, George Myers. Bushwackers, Renegades, and Ruffians in the Western Mountains. (Unpublished paper read before the Western North Carolina Historical Association.) Stover, John F. The Railroads of the South. Chapel Hill, 1955. Trelease, Allen W. White Terror: The Ku Klux Klan Conspiracy and Southern Reconstruction. New York, Evanston, London, 1971. Tucker, Glenn. Zeb Vance, Champion of Freedom. Indianapolis, Kansas City, New York, 1965. Van Noppen, Ina W. Stoneman's Last Raid. Boone, N. C., 1961. and Van Noppen, John J. Western North Carolina Since the Civil War. Boone, N.C., 1973. Waddell, Alfred M. The Last Year of the War in North Carolina. (Address given before the Association of the Army of Northern Virginia, Richmond, October 28, 1887). Wellman, Manly Wade. The Kingdom of Madison. Chapel Hill, 1973. Whitener, Daniel J. The History of Watauga County. (Souvenir of Watauga Centennial). Boone, N. C., 1949. Prohibition in North Carolina, 1715-1945. Chapel Hill, 1945. "Public Education in North Carolina During the Reconstruction." Essays in Southern History. (Presented to Joseph G. DeRoulhac Hamilton.) Chapel Hill, 1949. NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES The The The The Asheville Citizen-Times, March 26, 1950; Various issues from 1917-1970. Hendersonville Times-News, July 29, 1938. State Magazine. Various issues. Winston-Salem Journal and Sentinel, October 4, 1953. �INDEX Abernethy, Robert, 390, 391 Academies, 180, 186-187, 204, 390-391 Act of Oblivion, 136 Act of Secession, 331; repeal, 361 Adair, James, 33, 61, 62, 72, 80, 84, 140 Adams, John Quincy, 306 Ad-Vance (blockade runner), 339 Alamance, battle of (1771), 101, 102-103, 108, 133, 155-156 Albemarle, 53, 54, 55, 79, 205 Alderman, Edwin A., 389 Alexander, John McKnitt, 108, 158 Alexander, Rachel, 159 Alleghany County, 9, 337, 349, 350, 391 Allen, Lawrence M., Lieutenant Colonel, 333, 345 Allen's Legion, 333, 345 American Foreign Mission Board, 247, 249 Amherst, Lord Jeffrey, 85 Amnesty Proclamation of 1865, 360 Andrews (town), 275 Animal Drives, 215-221 Apalachee Indians, 44 Appalachian Mountains, 1, 4, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 299, 304 Appomattox Courthouse, 356 Arch, John, 247 Arthur, Gabriel, 50-52, 56 Articles of Confederation, 134, 153 Articles of the Watauga Association, 103 Asbury, Reverend Daniel, 181 Asbury, Bishop Francis, 177-178, 179, 181-184, 185, 215, 269 Ashe County, 9, 15, 165, 181, 194, 261, 277, 278, 281, 297, 301, 337, 349, 359 Ashe, Governor Samuel, 163, 165 Asheville, 51, 160, 163-164, 165, 171, 175, 177, 182, 183, 186, 187, 198, 202, 215, 216, 220, 225, 263, 266, 288, 295, 297, 303, 312, 317, 319, 321, 323, 334, 342, 344, 353, 354, 355, 371, 374, 379, 384, 389, 393, 394, 396, 397, 399 Asheville, battle of, 353 Asheville News, The, 310, 322 Asheville Normal School, 391 Atkins, Edmund, 80 Attakullakulla (Cherokee chief), 68, 79, 82, 84, 86, 145-146, 147 Augusta (Ga.), 171, 220, 247, 295 Avery, Judge Waightstill, 125, 136, 164, 265, 351 Baird, Adolphus E., 279 Baird, Bedent, 160, 163, 175 Baird, Zebulon, 160, 163, 167, 175, 313 Bakersville, 283, 385 "Balds," 20-21 Balsam Mountains, 7, 398 Banner Elk (town), 371 Baring, Charles, 291 Bartlett, Lieutenant Colonel William C., 355 Bartram, William, 142-149, 150, 301 Beamer, James, 61, 75, 140 Beaufort (town), 199, 320 Bechtler, Augustus, 211, 212 Bechtler, Charles, 211 452 Bechtler, Christopher, 211, 212, 213 Bechtler, Christopher, Jr., 211 Bechtler Mint, 211-213, 287 Bedford's Mill, battle of, 116 Beech Mountain, battle of, 351 Bell, John, 328 Bennett, James, 319 Berkley, William, 48, 49 Best, William J., 397 Bethabara (town), 98, 174 Big Bethel, battle of, 332 Biggerstaff, Aaron, 371-372 Biggs, Asa, 329 Bingham, Major Harvey, 352 Bird Town (Cherokee village), 258 Black Mountains, 7, 299, 300, 301, 304, 305, 320, 321, 324 Blake, Alexander, 291 Blockade Runners, 339 Blount, John Gray, 265 Blount, Governor William (Tenn.), 137, 215 Blowing Rock (town), 354 Blue Ridge Mountains, 7, 12, 48, 74, 95, 96, 150, 161, 162, 164, 175, 186, 275, 321, 322, 335, 337, 351, 354, 367, 369, 379, 391, 393, 394, 396 Blue Ridee Railroad, 321, 322, 397 Board of Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 58, 59, 61, 62, 63, 66, 78 Boen (also spelled Bean), William, 100 Bonus Act (1782), 153 Boone (town), 96, 175, 276, 277, 337, 353, 354 Boone, Daniel, 51, 99, 109, 175, 180, 226, 277 Boudinot, Elias, 247 Bragg, Governor Thomas, 315, 375 Brahm, John William Gerard de, 13, 59, 76-77, 92-93, 140, 299 , Brainard Indian School, 247, 249 Breckenridge, John C., 328 Brevard (town), 192, 282, 333 Brevard, Ephraim, 282 Bright, Samuel, 158, 175 Bright's Trail, 158, 175 Brittain, James, 272 Brooks, Judge George W., 375 Brown, David, 247 Brown, John, 163, 164, 171, 173 Bryson City, 381 Bryson, Daniel, Sr., 280 Bryson, Thaddeus D., 381 Buncombe County, 161-165, 175, 195,198, 204, 215, 236, 263, 268, 269, 279, 285, 289, 299, 303, 315, 317, 321, 323, 332, 333, 335, 337, 355, 389 Buncombe Courthouse, See Asheville Buncombe, Colonel Edward, 162 Buncombe Riflemen, 332 Buncombe Turnpike, 202-204, 215-220, 222, 223, 224, 225, 253, 262, 266, 270, 271, 288, 289, 293, 294, 295, 312, 314, 315, 324, 353, 377, 387 Bunning, Robert, 61, 75, 140 Bureau of Indian Affairs, 247 Burke County, 95, 155, 157, 159, 160, 162, 166, 171, 175, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 186, 208, 209, 261, 265, 274-275, 276, 283, 321, 391 Burningtown, 142 Burns, Captain Otway, 266 �Index / 453 Burnsvifle, 266, 317, 344, 391 Burnt Chimney Academy, 390 Burnt Chimney Volunteers, 331-332 Burton, John, 160, 163, 172 Butler, Fort, 274, 275 Byrd, William, 60, 62, 73, 88, 190 Byrd, William III, 84, 99 Cabarrus County, 207 Caldwell County, 275-276, 283, 321 Caldwell, David, 197 Caldwell, Joseph, President of University, 236, 239, 240, 275, 316, 318, 320, 396 Calhoun (town), 283 Calhoun, John C., 299, 303 Camden (S. C.), 150 Camp Mast (raid of), 351-353 Camp Meeting Movement, 183-185 Camp Vance, 351 Campbell, Arthur, 127, 135 Campbell, David, 128 Campbell, John, Earl of Loudon, 77 Campbell, William, 116, 119 Canby, General Edward R. S., 362 Canton (town), 51, 161, 181 Cape Fear Mercury, The, 108 Cape Girardeau. 253 Carolina Gazette, The, 309 Carpenter, J. B., 273 Carson, John, 282 Carson, Samuel B., 309 Carter, John, 111 Carteret, George, Lord, 95 Cashiers (town), 293 Caswell, Fort, 331 Catalowhee (raid of), 217 Catawba Indians, 31, 79-80, 84, 95, 112, 191192, 207, 265 Cathcart, William, 164, 265 Cession Act of 1783-4, 134, 135 Chambers, James, 161 Chambers, Samuel, 119 Champion, Captain James, 351-353 Chapman, Dr. Robert H., 355 Charles I, 52-53 Charles II, 53-54 Charleston (S. C.), 54, 56, 57, 58, 62, 65, 73, 77, 81, 93, 102, 103, 114, 115, 131, 132, 140, 141, 143, 146, 147, 149, 150, 155, 171 Charles Town, See Charleston Charlotte (city), 95, 115, 120, 123, 150, 213, 320, 397 Cherokee County, 333, 336, 342, 346, 347, 350, 381 Cherokee Nation, domain, 30-33, 157; daily life, 33-41; trade with South Carolina, 5669, 78-79; "Trail of Tears," 251-260; trails, 33-35; treaties, 69, 75-76, 86, 91, 109, 113114, 127-128, 135, 153-154, 241-260, 262-263; wars, 64-65, 78-86, 95, 98, 109-114, 129, 155, 156 Cherokee Phoenix, The, 247, 250 Cherokee Village, 342 Cherokees (mention), 74, 75, 140, 141, 144, 145, 147, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 159, 171, 173, 190, 193, 207, 241-260, 262, 264, 265, 273, 277, 287, 291, 294 Chickasaw Indians, 31, 60, 129 Chicken, Colonel George, 63, 64, 66, 74 Chota (See Echota) Christian, Colonel William, 111, 112, 113, 156 Clark, Governor Henry C,, 334 Clay County, 9, 281-283 Clay, Henry, 249, 282 Clayton, Lambert, 164 Cleveland, Colonel Benjamin, 120, 156 Cleveland, Jeremiah (also spelled Cleaveland), 164 Clingman, Thomas Lanier, 299-302, 309, 311, 313, 317, 325, 329, 333, 396 Cloyd, Major Joseph, 155 Coffee, General John, 243 Co-fi-tash-e (Indian girl), 45, 46 Coleman, H. Heaton, 393, 394 Coleman, Colonel Thaddeus, 393, 394 Columbus (town), 281, 396 Confederacy, The, 331, 334, 335, 338, 339, 340, 341, 343, 345, 346, 347, 360, 361 Congaree, Fort, 60 Conscription Law of 1862, 340-341 Constitution of the United States, 137-138 Constitution of 1868 (state), 262-263, revised, 384-385 Constitutional Convention of 1868, 362-363 Constitutional Reform of 1835, 205-206 Continental Congress, 107, 108, 133, 134 Convention Act of 1861, 329 Cornwallis, Major General Charles, Lord, 114, 115, 120, 123-124, 194, 277 Council, Jordan, 220 Council, Jordan, Jr., 277 Council of Safety (N. C.), Ill, 113 County Institutes, 389 Cowee (Cherokee town), 145 Cowee Mountains, 7, 141 Cox, General Jacob D., 360, 364 Coxe, Tench, 164 Cozby, Dr. James, 136 Crawford, William, 119 Creek Indians, 31, 75, 194, 242, 246 Crider, Fort, 275 Crown Point, Fort, 87 Cuming, Sir Alexander, 66-69, 70, 90, 92, 265, 299 Davenport, William, 158 Davidson County, 135 Davidson, Fort, 80, 155, 277 Davidson, John, 161 Davidson, General William Lee, 115 Davidson, Major William 159 Davidson, Samuel, 159 Davie, Governor William R., 115, 158 Davis, Jefferson, President of the Confederacy, 340, 346 Davis, Brigadier General William G., 158, 345 Deaver, Captain James, 349 Deaver, Colonel Reuben, 295 Deaver, William, 349 Declaration of Independence, 165 Defiance, Fort, 275 Delaware Indians, 31 Demere, Captain Paul, 81 Demere, Captain Raymond, 77 Democratic Party, 325-328, 340, 361, 375, 384, 385, 386 �454 / Index Deserters (Civil War), 344-345, 347, 348-349 DeSoto, Hernando, 13, 43-47, 207, 241, 265 Dinwiddie, Governor Robert (Va.), 74 Distribution of Surplus Act, 237 Doak, Reverend Samuel, 119, 314 Dobson (town), 155 Dog-trot houses, 222-223 Dougherty, Cornelius, 61, 75 Douglas, Stephen Arnold, 328 Drake, Sir Francis, 48 Drowning Bear (See Yonaguska) Drummond, William, 55 Dudley, Edward B., 307 Duquesne, Fort, 87 East La Porte (town), 280 Eastern Band of Cherokees, 254-258 Echoee (town, also spelled Etchoe), 83, 85 Echota (town, also spelled Etchota), 31, 79, 89, 113, 127, 129 Edney, General Baylus E., 349 Edney, Samuel, 161, 183 Edneyville, 225 Educational Association of North Carolina, 240 Elizabeth I, 48 Ellis, David, 351 Ellis, Judge (later Governor) John W., 280, 331, 332, 361 Emancipation Proclamation, 365 Estatoe (Cherokee town), 282 Everett, Edward, 249 Excavations of Indian Mounds, 26-28 Fairchild, Ebenezer, 158 Farmer, Henry T., 291 Farmers' Alliance, 389-390 Farmsteads, 223-224 Fayetteville, 205, 312, 389 Federal Arsenal, 331, 338 Ferguson, Colonel Patrick, 115, 116, 118, 120, 123, 157, 194, 280 Fiftoe ot Keowee (Cherokee), 82 Finley (also spelled Findley), 99 Finley School for Boys, 391 Fisher, Allen, 280 Fisk University, 365 Flat Rock (community), 271, 288-294 Fletcher (community), 291 Forests, 16-20 Forster (also spelled Foster), Thomas, 163 Forster, William, 159, 178 Forster (also spelled Foster), William III, 186187 Foster Trading Station, 280 Foster, Colonel William $., 255 Fothergill, Dr. John, 142, 143 Fox, Colonel Joseph, 70 Franklin (town), 112, 264, 265 Franklin, Governor Jesse, 264 Frenklin, "State" ot, 128, 135-136 Frasier, John, 150-151 Fredericka (Ga.), 71 Freedman's Bureau, 365-367, 368, 371 Fremont, John Charles, 329, 361 French-Broad Railroad, 396-397 French and Indian War, 80-87 Frontenac, Fort, 87 Frontier Lite, 166-173 Furber, Robert, 142 Gaston, William, 205 Gates, General Horatio, 115 Gau-ax-u-le (Cherokee town), 42, 47 Geology of trie Mountains, 8-13 George II, 68, 80 George III, 90, 141, 190 George, Ephraim, 164 Georgia (state), 212, 220, 241, 250, 251, 252 Georgia-Norm Carolina Boundary Dispute, (See "Walton War") Gilbert Town, 116, 157 Gillem, Brigadier General Alvan C., 354 Gillespie, Matthew, 268 Gist, Nathaniel, 246 Glenn, Governor James (S. C.), 61, 74, 75 Gold Mining, 207-211 Goldsboro, 320 Gooch, John, 161 Government Mint (Charlotte), 213, 33. Gowdy's Trading Post, 60 Graham County, 381 Graham, William A., 375, 381 Grandfather Mountain, 11, 150, 299, 301, 305 Grant, Lieutenant Colonel James, 84, 85-86, 88, 110, 112, 140 Grant, Ludovick, 61, 67, 75, 140 Grant, President Ulysses S., 375 Granville Tract, 91, 95-96, 98, 152, 153, 157, 158 Gray, Asa, 297, 298 Great Migration, 251-252 Great Smoky Mountains, 7, 18, 191 Great Tellico (Cherokee town), 63, 70, 89 Greenville (S. C.), 215, 216, 225, 253, 269, 289 Griffiths, Thomas, 140, 141-142 Gudger, William, 159 Guilford Academy, 197 Guilford Courthouse (battle of), 124, 155 Guyot, Arnold Henry, 303-304 Gwynn, Walter, 321 Haile, John, 111 Hall, Reverend Tames, 180 Hambright, Frederick, 120 Hamilton, Captain James, 337 Hampton, Christopher, 293 Hampton Institute, 365 Hampton, Wade, 293 Harris, James H., 368 Hastings, Colonel Theopholus, 58 Hayge, Charite, 58 Hayne, Robert Y., 319 Haywood County, 15, 154, 161, 165, 195, 256, 261, 263, 279, 285, 311, 332-333, 342, 350, 355, 387 Haywood, John, 165 Heath Grant, The, 52-53 Heath, Sir Robert, 52-53 Helper, Hinton Rowan, 336 Henderson County, 161, 215, 265, 266-272, 279, 280, 281, 282, 285, 289, 323, 333, 337, 348, 349, 376, 391 Henderson County Guards, 332-333 Henderson, Judge Leonard, 271 Henderson Purchase, 109 Henderson, Richard, 109 Hendersonville, 272, 323, 332-333, 397 Henry, Robert, 163, 164, 186, 191, 295 Heroes of America (See Red Strings) Hickory (town), 96 Hickory Nut Gap, 74, 269, 305, 317, 354, 355 Hicks, Charles, 246 Highland Messenger, The, 309 Hillsboro (also spelled Hillsborough), 115, 130, 137, 138, 197, 311 Hodges, Thomas, 158 Holden, William H., 325, 360, 361, 362, 363, 368, (later Governor) 374-376, 378, 384 �Index I 455 Holstein, Stephen, 74 Holtzclaw, Henry, 301 Holtzclaw, James, 157 Home Guards, 344 Hopewell Treaty, 128 Horse Shoe Bend (battle of), 194, 242-243, 250, 260, 342 Horton, Nathan, 158 Hot Springs, 215, 216, 295, 345 Howard, Benjamin, 99 Howard, Captain Thomas, 111, 281 Hughes, Barnard, 75 Hume, Robert, 291 Hunter, Colonel Archibald R. S., 274 Hyams, George McQueen, 298 Hyde, Edward, 55 Immigration 1759-1771, 92-95 Impeachment of Governor Holden, 375-376, 384 Impending Crisis, The, 336 Indian Road Gap, 342 Indian Territory (now Oklahoma), 253, 254 Inflation (1863-1871), 356-357 Innkeepers, 218-220 Iroquois Indians, 29, 32 Isaac, James, 351 Jackson, General Andrew, later President, 194, 203-204, 242-243, 245, 250-251, 279, 306 Jackson County, 15, 192, 280, 285, 333, 337, 342, 380 James I, 48 Jamestown, 48 Jefferson (town), 165, 312 Jefferson, Thomas, 142 Jewel Hill (now Walnut), 279 Johnson, President Andrew, 349, 360, 362 Johnson, Fort, 331 Johnson, Hugh, 271 Johnson, John, 272 Johnson, Governor Robert (S. C.), 69, 88 Johnston, General Joseph E., 354 Johnston, William J., 340 Joliet, Louis, 64 Jonesboro (town, Tenn.), 322 Joree (Cherokee town), 67 Judaculla Rock, 40, 279 Judd's Friend (See Ostenaco) Judson College, 391 Junaluska (Cherokee leader), 194, 242-245, 250-251, 258-260, 381 Kansas-Nebraska Bill, 326 Keith, Lieutenant Colonel, James A., 345, 346 Keith, Sir William, 69 Kennedy, Captain Quentin, 84 Kentucky, 216, 220 Keowee (Cherokee town), 63, 67, 74, 75, 81, 83, 85, 143, 144, 147 Killian, David, 160, 178, 183 Kilpatrick, Reverend Joseph D., 180 King, Mitchell, 272, 291, 319 King's Mountain (battle of), 120-123, 136, 156, 157, 160, 265, 272, 275, 277 Kirby, Colonel Isaac M., 353 Kirk, Colonel George W., 346, 349-351, 354, 358, 374-375 "Kirk-Holden War," 374-375, 379 Kirk, John, 129 Kirk's Raids, 346, 349-351 Know-Nothing Party, 326-327 Knox, John, 179 Knoxville (Tenn.), 153, 175, 182, 215, 353 Ku Klux Klan, 370-375, 384 Lacey, William, 120 Lanman, Charles, 287, 295, 304-305 Larned, Captain C. H., 256 LaSalle, Robert, Sieur de, 64 Latimer, George, 164 Latimer, James, 164 Lederer, John, 49 Lee, General Charles, 114 Lee, General Robert E., 332, 355 Lee School for Boys, 391 Lenoir (town), 275, 399 Lenoir, General William, 275 Letters from the Alleghany Mountains (by Lanman), 305 Lexington (battle of), 107 Library Association, The, 240 Life in the Coves, 227-235 Lincoln, President Abraham, 329, 331, 336, 360 Lincoln, General Benjamin, 115 Lincoln County, 120, 196 Lincoln ton, 225 Lindsey, Fort, 256 Linville Mountain, 150 Literary Fund, The, 203, 236, 237, 239, 276, 387 Littlefield, General Milton S., 368, 378, 379 Logan, George W., 327, 367, 373 Logan, Robert, 273 Loudon, Fort, 59, 76-77, 79-84, 246 Love, James R., 295 Love, Colonel Robert R., 161, 165, 191, 195, 280, 350, 355 Love, General Thomas, 161, 165 Lovingood, George W., 275 Lovingood, Hiram, 274-275 Lowney (Cherokee), 254-255 Loyalists, 108, 109, 110, 113, 114, 115, 116, 123, 125, 156, 157, 277 Ludwell, Governor Philip (under Proprietors), 55 Lyon, John, 297 Lyttleton, Governor William (S.C.), 81, 82 McDowell, Colonel Charles, 116ff., 282 McDowell County, 116, 276-277, 283 McDowell, General Joseph, 191 McDowell, Mayor Joseph, 115, 276-277 McDowell, Silas, 163 McDowell, Captain William W., 332, 357, 376 McElroy, Brigadier General John W., 344, 346 McFadden, Fort, 155 McGaughey, Fort, 155 Mclver, Alexander, 387, 389 McPeters, Jonathan, 161 Macon County, 9, 112, 263-265, 273, 279, 311, 342, 349, 373, 380, 389 Macon, Nathaniel, 263 Madison County, 278-279, 285, 314, 321, 323, 333, 336, 337, 345, 349, 358 Marietta-Georgia Railroad, 397 Marion (town), 277, 354 Marion, Francis, 277 Marquette, Jacques, 64 Marshall (town), 220, 279, 345, 358, 374 Marshall, Judge John, 251, 279 �456 / Index Mars Hill (town), 391 Mars Hill College, 391 Martin, Governor Alexander, 135 Martin, Adjutant General James Green, 331, 339, 354, 355 Martin, Brigadier General Joseph, 107, 127, 156 Martin, Robert, 161 Matthews, Maurice, 56 Matthews, Major Mussendine, 191 Mebane, James, 191 Mecklenburg Council of Safety, 107 Mecklenburg County, 130 Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, 108 Mecklenburg Resolves, 108 Meigs-Freeman Line, 165, 193, 241, 262, 280 Memminger, C. G., 293 Merrill, Ransom P., 358 Merrimon, Judge Augustus S,, 285, 345-346, 375, 379 Michaux, Andre, 150, 151, 235, 298, 301 Michaux, Francois Andre, 150 Middle ton, Colonel Thomas, 84, 143 Military "Exercises," 173 Miller, Benjamin, 180 Miller, William, 158 Mills, Dr. Columbus, 281, 349 Mills, Marvil, 284 Mills, William, 160-161, 172-173, 181 Mims, Fort, 242 Minerals, 13-15 Mitchell County, 162, 281, 282-283, 337, 349, 385, 389 Mitchell, Elisha, 203, 282, 300-303 Montcalm, Louis Joseph, Marquis de, 87 Montgomery, Colonel Archibald, 83-84, 85, 86, 88, 110, 113 Moore, Fort, 58 Moore, James, 56, 58 Moore, Captain William, 112, 113, 161, 173, 259 Moore's Creek Bridge (battle of), 114 Moravians, 249 Morehead, Governor John Motley, 315, 317, 318, 320, 321 Morgan, Colonel Gideon, 243 Morgan, Thomas, 294 Morganton, 96, 136, 150, 161, 171, 178, 186, 192, 220, 225, 263, 265, 276, 315, 317, 323, 324, 343, 351, 354, 377, 378, 379 Morris, John, 161 Morris, Robert, 161, 277 Morristown (See Asheville) Mount Mitchell, 5, 7, 18, 299-300 Mountain Animals, 21-23 Mountain Birds, 24 Mountain Flora, 15, 16, 18-21 Moytoy (Cherokee Chief), 67, 68 Muckleroy, Samuel, 58 Murphey, Archibald D., 191, 197-198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 204, 237, 240, 274 Murphey Improvement Program, 197-201 Murphy (town), 112, 274, 344, 350, 3%, 397 Muster Day, 173, 230 Nantahala Mountains, 249, 263 Nantahala Tunrpike, 312, 317 Nash, Judge Frederick, 275 Nashville (Tenn.), 136, 150, 253 Native Americans (see Cherokee Nation) Needham, James, 50-52, 56, 64 Neill, James, 282 Nelson, David, 161 New Bern, 320 New Echota (Ga.) 243, 247, 251 Newport (Tenn.), 127, 217 Newton Academy, 180, 186-187, 204 Newton, Reverend George, 180, 186-187 Nicholson, Governor Francis (S. C.), 62 Nikwassi (Cherokee town), 31, 46, 47, 66, 83, 84, 85, 89, 145, 264, 265 Normal Schools, 389-399 North Carolina Common School Journal (later, N. C. Journal of Education), 240 North Carolina Gazette, The, 108 North Carolina-South Carolina Boundary Dispute, 191 North Carolina Spectator and Western Advertiser, The, 309 North Carolina Standard, The, 325, 360, 361 North Carolina Temperance Societies, 285 Numbers of Carlton, The (by Joseph Caldwell), 320 Oak Hill Academy, 390 Oconostota (Cherokee Chief), 82, 83, 109 Old Field Schools, 185-186, 187, 313 Old Fort (See also Fort Davidson), 110, 317, 378, 379, 393, 398 Old Hopp (Cherokee Chief), 75, 78, 79, 86, 89 Old Tassel (Cherokee Chief), 127, 129, 246 Olmsted, Dennison, 203, 301 Ostenaco (Cherokee Chief), 79, 81, 82, 84, 89, 90, 141 Overmountain Men (march of), 116-120 Outliers (See also Deserters), 337, 344-345, 347-349 Paint Rock, The, 215, 295, 323, 331, 378 Palmer, Brigadier General William J., 353, 354 Pardo, Juan, 47-48 Party Newspapers, 309-311 Patton Hotel, 294-295 Patton, James, 159, 163 Patton, James W., 294, 295 Patton, John, 159 Patton, John E., 295, 305, 314 Patton, Robert, 159 Patton, William, 302 Payne, John Howard, 250 Peace Conferences (Civil War), 329 Peachtree Mound (See also Gau-ax-a-le), 42 Pearis, Richard, 61 Pendley, William, 158 Pennsylvania Road, The, 95, 96, 98, 130, 131, 157, 174-175, 211 Philadelphia Mint, The, 208, 209, 213 Pioneer Education, 185-188 Pioneer Life, 166-173 Pitcairn, Major John, 107 Plank Roads, 324-325 Poinsett, Joel, 319 Political Rallies, 308-309 Polk County, 180, 272, 278-281, 287, 337, 349, 371 Polk, Thomas, 107 Posey, Humphrey, 181 Priber, Christian, 69-72 Prince George, Fort, 60, 75, 81, 82, 83, 86, 141, 144 Provincial Congress of North Carolina, The, 107, 110, 111 Provisional Constitution of the Confederacy, 331 Public School Laws, 237-240 �Index / 457 Quaker Meadows, 120, 282 Qualla Trading Post, 256 Quallatown (Cherokee village), 342 Raids (local during Civil War), 345, 346 Railroads, Eastern, 318-320 Railroads, Western, plans for, 318-323; see also Western North Carolina Railroads Raleigh (city), 205, 208, 309, 312, 361, 363, 373, 378 Raleigh Sentinel, The, 375 Raleigh, Sir Walter, 48 Reconstruction Acts (1867), 262, 364 Red Strings, the, 367, 384 Regulator Movement, 101-103, 108, 133, 155156, 196 Reid, Governor David S., 325 Religious Denominations, 179-185; 390-391 Renegade Gangs (See also Deserters and Outliers), 346-349, 359 Republican Party, 326, 328, 362, 367, 368, 369, 375, 384 Revenue Laws, 369-370 Revolutionary War, 106-124, 277 Reynolds, Henry, 294 Richardson, Jesse, 181 Ridge, John, 251 Ridges (Tsali's son), 254-255 "Rip Van Winkle State," 195, 203, 206 Roads (See also Plank Roads), 130-131, 173178, 315-317, 376 Roan Mountain, 150, 151, 175, 299, 305 Robbinsville, 258, 381 Robertson, Charles, 111 Robertson, James, 101, 129, 175, 265 Rock Formations, 8-11 Rosman (town), 282 Ross, John, 244, 245-246, 249-251, 253 Rough and Ready Guards, 332 Round Hill Acaclemy, 390 Rowan County, 155, 157 Russell, George, 111 Rutherford College, 391 Rutherford County, 91, 111, 116, 154, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 162, 166, 171, 175, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 186, 195, 199, 208, 212, 256, 261, 269, 272, 276, 281, 287, 288, 309, 315, 317, 321, 322, 323, 324, 333, 335, 367, 371, 372, 373, 390 Rutherford, General Griffith, 111-112, 113, 114, 115, 155, 157 Rutherford Riflemen, The, 332 Rutherford Star, The, 273 Rutherford's Cherokee Campaign (1776), 112113, 280 Rutherfordton, 155, 171, 178, 211, 213, 220, 225, 288, 372, 373, 385, 397 St. Tohn-in-the-Wilderness (Episcopal church), 291 St. Xavier, Joseph Gabriel, Count de Choiseul, 293 Salem (town), 225 Salisbury (town), 317, 320, 321, 323, 346, 354, 359, 375, 377, 396, 397 Saluda, 161, 398 Saluda Gap, 215, 217, 269 Saluda Old Town (Cherokee), 75 Sargent, Dr. Charles S., 298 Schermerhorn, Reverend J. F., 251 Schneider, Martin, 38 Schofield, General John, 360, 364 School, Law of 1873, 387 Schools, private, 185-188, 229, 232, 236-240, 390-391; public, 387-389 Shuyucha (Cherokee), 111 Scott, Fort, 257 Scott, General Winfield, 252, 254-256 Seddon, James A., Secretary of War of the Confederacy, 346, 347, 349 Sequoyah (author of the Cherokee Syllabary), 245-249 Settle, Thomas, 385-387 Sevier, John, 101, 106, 111 116ff., 125, 127, 128, 129, 135, 136, 137 Sevier, Robert, 125 Sevierville (Tenn.), 127, 342 Sharpe, Alexander, 158 Sharpe, John, 58 Sharpe, William, 158 Shelby, Colonel Evan, 109 Shelby, Isaac, 106, 116, 117, 120 Sherman, General William T,, 354 Shoffner Act, 273 Shook, Jacob, 183 Short, Dr. Charles W., 297 Shortia, search for, 297-299 Shotwell, Randolph, 371-372 Sickles, General David E., 362 Sitton, Phillip, 268 Skiles, Reverend W. W., 284 Sloan, Major Benjamin, 334 Smith, Second Lieutenant A. J,, 255, 256 Smith, James McConnel, 195 Smith, Captain John, 48, 53 Smith, Phillip, 163, 178 Smithsonian Institution, 304 Smoky Mountains, 254, 255, 299, 380, 381 Snowbird Reservation, 258 South Carolina Gazette and Country Journal, 108 Southern Railway Company, 397 Spangenberg, Bishop A. G., 96-98, 99, 181, 277 Sparta (town), 281, 389 Sparta Academy, 391 Stagecoaches, 225-226, 377 Stamp Act, The, 107 Stekoa (Cherokee town on site of present Whittier), 75, 113, 257 Stephen, Colonel Adam, 84, 89 Stills, 223-224, 232-233 Stokes, Montford, 191 Stoneman, General George, 353-354, 377 Stoneman's Raid, 353-355 Stringfleld, Lieutenant Colonel William W., 344, 349, 350, 355 Strother, Fort, 242 Strother, John, 191 Stuart, Captain John, 80, 83, 146 Sulphur Springs Hotel, 295, 305 Sumter, Fort, 329, 331 Surry County, 120, 155-156, 278, 311, 349 Suspension of Habeas Corpus, 346ff. Swain County, 15, 147, 380-381 Swain, David Lowry, President of University and later Governor, 204-206, 236, 239, 240, 307, 311, 314, 380 Swain, George, 159-160, 163 Swanton, Dr. John R., 41, 46 Swepson, George W., 378, 379 Swepson-Littleheld Scandal, 377-379 Sycamore Shoals, 116 Sylva (town), 192, 280 Table Rock, 150 Tahlequah (Okla.), 249 Tassee (Cherokee town), 85 �458 / Index Tate, Samuel, 378 Taylor, John Louis, 204 Teachers' Associations, 240 Tecumseh (Indian Chief), 242, 245, Tennent, Gilbert B., 357-358, 376 Tennessee, 216, 220, 225, 241-242, 247, 261, 265, 266, 278, 279, 281, 323 Thatcher, Daniel* 179 Thomas Legion, The, 342, 345, 350, 355 Thomas, Robert, 349 Thomas, William Holland, 241-242, 244, 255258, 287, 342, 355 Ticonderoga, Fort, 87 Timberlake, Henry, 38, 78, 89-90, 140 Tipton, Colonel John, 135-136, 137 Toe River Valley, 158 Tories, See Loyalists Toulouse, Fort, 65, 71, 81 Tourgee, Albion W., 367 Trail of Tears, 253-254 Transylvania Company, 109 Transylvania County, 192, 193, 281-282, 333, 335, 337, 348, 389 Transylvania Railroad, 399 Tryon (town), 111 Try on County, 156, 157 Tryon, Royal Governor William, 91, 92, 103, 155 Tsali (Cherokee, also called Old Charley), 254-256, 380 Tucker's Barn, 275 Turner, James C., 321 Turner, Josiah, 375 Tweed, Elisha J., 358 Unaka Mountain Range, 7, 12, 191 "Underground Railroads," 337, 351 Unicoi Mountain Range, 5, 7 Union League, The, 3~67-369, 371, 384 University of North Carolina (Chapel Hill), 187, 197, 236, 239, 301, 311, 314, 376, 389 Valle Crucis (village), 284, 352 Van Buren, President Martin, 252 Vance-Carson Duel, 309 Vance, Colonel David, 159, 191, 220 Vance, Brigadier General Robert Brank, 342, 347 Vance, Governor Zebulon Baird, 186, 309, 313-316, 329, 331, 332, 339, 340, 341, 345, 346, 347, 349, 359, 361, 385-386, 398, 399 Vann, Joseph, 250 Vaughn, Colonel John C., 371 Wachovia, 98 Waddell, Colonel Hugh, 84, 103 Wake County, 175 Walker, Felix, 256, 257 Walker's Settlement, 99 "Walton War," 189, 192-193 War of 1812, 194-195 Ward, Nancy, 110 Warm Springs (See Hot Springs) Washington College, 314 Washington County (now in Tenn.), 111, 116, 128, 130, 135, 137 Washington, President George, 142, 369 Watauga Association (Articles of), 103-105, 190 Watauga County, 13, 74, 100, 137, 158, 277278, 279, 283, 301, 315, 321, 337, 349, 350 Watauga Settlements, 99-106, 110, 113, 114, 129-130, 135, 158, 159, 166, 175, 265, 277, 283 Wayne, General Anthony, 165 Waynesville, 112, 161, 165, 171, 258, 263, 295, 317, 321, 323, 344, 350, 355, 396 Weatherford, Billy, 242-243, 244 Weaver, John, 159 Weaverville College, 391 Webster (town), 280 Webster, Daniel, 249 Wedgwood, Josiah, 140 Weidner, Heinrich, 155 Welch, James, 256 Wesley, John, 179 West, William, 349 Western North Carolina Railroad (See also Railroads), 323-324, 377-379, 391-394, 397 Western Star of Liberty, The, 309 Whatogo (Cherokee town), 145, 149 Whig Party, 306ff., 325, 326, 327, 328, 329, 360, 381 Whiskey Rebellion, 224 White, John, 48 White Sulphur Springs, 295; battle of, 355 Whittaker, James, 181 Whittier (town), 127 Wilderness Road, 175, 220 Wiley, Dr. Calvin Henderson, 239-240, 315 Wilkes County, 120, 157, 166, 171, 178, 180, 181, 182, 186, 261, 275, 277, 278, 359 Wilkes, John, 157 Wilkesboro, 180, 275, 301, 312, 342 Williams, James, 120 Williams, Colonel Joseph, 115 Williamsburg, 74, 90 Williamson, Major (later Colonel) Andrew, 111, 112, 113 Wilmington, 124, 199 Wilson, Major James W., 392, 393, 394 Wilson, "Big Tom," 302, 303 Winston, Major Joseph, 120, 156 Wiseman, William, 158 Wolfe, General James, 87 Womack, Jacob, 111 Wood, General Abraham, 50, 52, 56, 73 Woodfm, Nicholas W., 286, 323, 379 Woodward, Henry, 49-50, 56, 92 Wool, General John E., 252 Worchester, Reverend S. A., 247, 249, 250 Worth, Governor Jonathan, 361, 362 Wright, Gideon, 155 Wrosetacatow (Cherokee Chief), 63 Yadkin Valley, 51, 74, 83, 86, 96 Yancey, Bartlett, 266 Yancey Collegiate Institute, 391 Yancey County, 265-267, 277, 279, 283, 285, 297, 302, 303, 317, 337, 349 Yeargin, Reverend Andrew, 181 Yellow Mountain, 150, 175 Yonaguska (Cherokee Leader), 244, 256, 257 Yorktown, 123, 124 ��This page intentionally left blank �ABOUT THE AUTHOR OEA BLACKMUN was a native of Southern Minnesota^ but moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas as a teenager. Blackmun earned her Bachelor's and Master's from the University of Arkansas. She did further graduate work at the University of Chicago and at the University of Southern California. She was an associate professor in the English Department of the University of Central Arkansas at Conway She later moved to Asheville; NQ where she taught at the University of North Carolina Asheville. �This page intentionally left blank �This book was designed by Spencer Quails. The type face is Bembo, a classical Roman design of the 16th century, set by Trade Typesetters, Inc., Greensboro, North Carolina. Printed and bound by Publication Press, Inc. and Graphic Arts Finishing Company, Baltimore, Maryland. Color printing is by Gilbert Printing Company, Asheville, North Carolina. �Other Books Published and/or Distributed by A P P A L A C H I A N C O N S O R T I U M PRESS Boone, North Carolina 28607 " . , . arightgood People," by Harold Warren ArtisansYAppalachia/US'A, text and photographs by David Gaynes Arts and Crafts of the Cherokee, by Rodney L. Leftwich Bibliography of Southern Appalachia, edited by Charlotte T. Ross Bits of Mountain Speech, by Paul M. Fink Down to Earth — People of Appalachia, text and photographs by Kenneth Murray Laurel Leaves, an occasional journal of the Appalachian Consortium Mountain Measure (hardcover and paper editions), by Francis Pledger Hulme with photographs by Robert Amberg Music of the Blue Ridge (LP Recording), by Bob Harman and the Blue Ridge Descendants 'Round the Mountains, by Ruth Camblos and Virginia Winger Symposium on Trout Habitat Research and Management Proceedings Tall Tales from Old Smoky (hardcover and paper editions), by C. Hodge Mathes The Birth of Forestry in America (hardcover and paper editions), by Carl Alwin Schenck The Good Life Almanac, edited by Ruth Smalley The Southern Appalachian Heritage The Wataugans, by Dr. J. Max Dixon Toward 1984: The Future of Appalachia, Southern Appalachian Regional Conference Proceedings Voices from the Hills (hardcover and paper editions), edited by Robert J. Higgs and Ambrose N. Manning Western North Carolina Since the Civil War (hardcover and paper editions), by Drs. Ina W. and John J. Van Noppen DESCRIPTIVE CATALOG AVAILABLE � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880 Description An account of the resource <div class="supapress"> <div class="product-details"> <div class="sp-product__description"> <div class="sp-product__content-inner sp-product__description-inner">Published in 1977, <em>Western North Carolina</em> is a narrative history of the Southern Appalachian Mountains up to 1880. Ora Blackmun depicts the stories of native Cherokee and Sequoyah people and pioneers such as William Bartram, Daniel Boone, Bishops Spangenberg and Asbury, and Zeb Vance.<br /><br /></div> </div> </div> </div> <a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1cx_Ft3QexVZzy0O8zO6ZmGbK8OByNhMi" target="_blank">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469641362/western-north-carolina/" target="_blank">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Blackmun, Ora Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Subject The topic of the resource North Carolina--History North Carolina, Western--History Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1977 Language A language of the resource English Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant North Carolina Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1970s early settlement history Reconstruction WNC Civil War https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/21590601c7602863c245e838e46c1d0d.pdf 23db45688728d3d35b21e0667cf0b9b3 PDF Text Text ���UI ��JO mm «tw ����IN THE OF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv The of - I. . . . . .1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .7 The E. II. M. The M. and .................. 9 - of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .33 and in Eller . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 of on In . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 to Sir . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 III. of ...............111 in - . . . . . . . . . 113 �Table The Big . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141 . . . . . . . . . 161 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199 IV. ............... the .....................211 Our . . . . . . . . . . 229 Jr. . . . . . . . . . . . 251 and ........ of Defense . . . . . . . . . . . . 277 The in - TV A ....... of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .295 V. the N. 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The the the prob- of the or culture. the a in the A world. as to the to of the to of the as of the of the ad™ as �2 Colonialism in Modern America Lack of adequate capital and programs to stimulate growth result in a lagging regional economy. There are too many people for the resources. Lack of incentives for investment and lack of skilled labor place the area in a poor competitive position. These explanations lead to programs to improve transportation, supply inducements for development, facilitate migration, provide technicians and agents who will encourage modernization and bring in more industries. The perspective which we select examines the process through which dominant outside industrial interests establish control, exploit the region, and maintain their domination and subjugation of the region. Appalachia is a good example of colonial domination by outside interests. Its history also demonstrates the concerted efforts of the exploiters to label their work "progress" and to blame any of the obvious problems it causes on the ignorance or deficiencies of the Appalachian people. We believe that there are peoples all over the world who have experienced this sort of "development" and consequently live in conditions similar to those found in the mountains. Thus, they can easily identify with the process described in this book as the colonization of Appalachia. Just as exploitation is not new, the attempt to understand and explain that process as Colonialism is also not new. Richard Drake in his comments on regional historiography (Jack and Clio in Appalachia. Appalachian Notes, Volume 4, No. 1, 1976, pp. 4-6) traces the use of the Colonialism interpretation to writers in the Labor Movement in the 1890's and the Populist Movement. In the 1930's in the midst of labor unrest in the region, such writers as Theodore Dreiser and Malcolm Ross focused on the outside ownership and exploitation of the area (Malcolm H. Ross, Machine Age in the Hills, New York: Macmillan, 1933, and National Committee for the Defense of Political Prisoners, Harlan Miners Speak: Report on Terrorism in the Kentucky Coal Fields, New York: Harcourt Brace, 1932). Drake saw the colonial interpretation continued through the reform movements which arose in the 30's and crystallized in such leaders �Introduction 3 and organizations as Don West, Myles Morton, and the Highlander Folk School. The value of the Internal Colonialism Model lies in its ability to bring into focus issues of decision-making and control of everyday life that tend to be ignored in the analysis of area problems and consequently in public policy formulation. The other models describe many of the problems and conditions that are the result of domination and exploitation, but they fail to address these things as causal factors. As social scientists, we are seeking causes rather than descriptions (or justifications). Although we attempt to cover the Appalachian area and show that the exploitation takes many forms—from coal mining in West Virginia to tourism in North Carolina, from TVA development in Tennessee to educational development in Kentucky —there is a greater emphasis on the development of coal resources in Central Appalachia. Part of this is because the picture is so much clearer and the process more blatant in the coalfields. Partly it is due to the location of the editors. We feel that the colonial process can be used to explain many areas and situations throughout America where technological, industrial society has controlled the resources and people. We do not claim that we have presented the last word or that further analysis is not needed. We simply feel that this collection of articles presents a more realistic picture of Appalachia and its problems than can be garnered through the other perspectives. Some may reject this type of analysis as producing despair and depression since the "enemies" or causes of the problems are seen as giant, multinational corporations in league with irresponsible government bureaucracies which are almost unbeatable forces. We regret this unintended result but feel it better to know the real source of the ailment than to waste effort treating the symptoms. There are frustrations and limitations in the use of the Colonialism Model. We may be guilty of stretching some of the analogies to compare the region with colonies dominated by another country. A very real difference is the ability of the dominated country to eventually throw the invaders out. Even in fantasy, if Appalachia could put up fences, take over resources, and operate them by the people of the area, one ques- �4 Colonialism in Modern America tions whether it is better to be dominated by homegrown enterprises than by New York or Philadelphia based corporations? Some of the younger scholars of the area who grew up using and documenting the Colonial Model are beginning to suggest that we need more sophisticated means to better understand the types of economic and political systems which place certain geographic regions or social classes in situations of dependency and powerlessness. The conditions found in the region are seen by these scholars as products of an advanced industrial, capitalist system. The articles by David Walls and Tom Plaut represent this new thrust to develop improved analytical approaches out of the Colonial Model. The way we define problems determines how we think about solutions. The Colonial Model implies that solutions to Appalachian problems lie in the radical restructuring of society with a redistribution of resources to the poor and powerless. But we need more research on how this can be done. How can structural change come about to develop a just society? We need a model which explains and examines the relation between economic power, political power, and cultural systems, how they change and how people's perceptions of their situation are formed and changed. Can political power be used to control economic power? We hope this exploration of one model can cause the development of a more precise theory which will lead to more understanding and solutions to the problems associated with living in a colony. We have divided this anthology into five sections. The first deals with a delineation of the Colonial Model and its application to Appalachian history and experience. The second section explains how the great wealth of the natural resources within the region came into the hands of "outsiders," men and corporations from places like Pittsburgh, New York, and London. Although coal is the resource most often used to demonstrate the process of resources theft, other profitbearing enterprises such as timber, cotton, and tourism have left their tragic mark on the people and the land. We have sought articles which would reflect the great breadth of the resources extraction process. Section III documents the ways in which outside interests �Introduction 5 sought to establish their enterprises in the region and the lengths to which they went to politically disarm and culturally discredit those who opposed them. The story told is not so much one of outright deception and swindles (although there were plenty of them) as it is a subtle and deadly process by which a people were convinced of their own worthlessness and thus, in many cases, gave up efforts to defend themselves and their ways of life. Section IV shows how the region has become increasingly vulnerable to the cultural and economic definitions, interests, and developmental whims of the larger society. It covers a wide range of activity from media, education, and music, to industrial domination of the political process and the Federal domination of the planning process. The final section is devoted to extending and improving the Colonial Model with an eye to having scholarly analysis lead to proposals for corrective social action. We are very grateful to the many contributors who so generously gave permission to use their articles, to the Appalachian Consortium Press who agreed to publish the collection, to Borden Mace who patiently encouraged us to complete the project, and to Don Anderson, Ron Eller, Tom Plaut, and staff at Mars Hill College who assisted with the final selection and organization. We wish to thank Ron Heise, who began the arduous task of editing, Eve Tackett, Susie Jones, Reva Shelton, and Wilma Coates, who provided the secretarial skills. The coeditors Don Askins and Linda Johnson completed the selecting, editing and organizing. Helen Matthews Lewis The River Farm Dungannon, Virginia ��HI sji SJf JO sf pUl 3I|J jo *W 3JB 3lp JO JOJ ai{i jo 9sn pui ^ 3tp f 0 dip JO B SB aip oj 1H1 "• ��by M. and E. Is a great In an of in of g reat poverty, In an has an in and a the to of of and of in a of to the In the of an a a the on the of a of the greedy Or is nf the M, is a & Is a nf in Ed is an in the at of �10 Colonialism in Modern America it just a ease of a region or area being "behind the times"? Before attempting to analyze the causes of these conditions, we will give a brief history and description of that portion of Appalachia which we are considering. Inside Central Appalachia That part of Appalachia with which we are concerned is the portion of the Allegheny-Cumberland mountains in which bituminous coal mining developed. Portions of southwest Virginia, eastern Kentucky, and southern West Virginia form this area and are referred to by the Appalachian Regional Commission as Central Appalachia. The area was late being settled. Until the Revolution it was an area to pass through or skirt around. The area was inaccessible and offered few advantages to the farmer in comparison with the fertile fields of the Blue Grass. It was covered by extensive forests, the soil was poor, and there was little level land. Those seeking good farming went into the Blue Grass, the Tennessee valleys, or the West. There was a period of virtual isolation (80-100 years) in the 19th century. The early settlers and their families developed a way of life based upon subsistence agriculture and a social organization based upon kinship. It was a sparsely populated area of small landowners with isolated and dispersed settlements up and down the streams, since the bottom lands provided the only acreage suitable for intensive use. The land was rugged, the soil thin and unproductive, and the slope so steep as to justify the phrase "perpendicular corn fields." The traditional mountain culture which developed in this period has been described by John C. Campbell (1921), Horace Kephart (1913), and more recently by Jack Weller (1965) and Leonard Roberts (1959). Many changes occurred in the late 1800's and early 1900's with the coming of lumbering, railroads, and coal mining to the area. The first load of coal was shipped from southwest Virginia in 1892 and from Harlan County, Kentucky, in 1911. There were large and rapid population increases in the coal mining counties. The population of Wise County, Virginia, rose from 9,400 in 1890 to 47,000 in 1920. Individuals and families �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 11 migrated to the coal counties from the nearby farm counties of Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee. Some foreign born people were recruited into the coal fields, and Negroes from the South were contracted as laborers. To house and serve these workers and their families, the mining companies, lumbering interests, and railroads built "encampments" for the newcomers. These "camps" or "colliery towns'' were complete with company owned houses, stores, theaters, clinics, hospitals, churches, and schools. In addition to modifying the traditional residency patterns of the local population, a new class of people came to the area with the large coal companies. Chemists, engineers, doctors, and managers were brought into the area as representatives of urban culture. Most of them lived in the commercial and political centers which grew up at rail centers, courthouses, and trading villages. All of these changes resulted in a new system of social stratification hitherto unknown in the traditional mountain society. Until World War II three different social systems existed side by side in the coal fields of the Southern Appalachians: (1) the original rural mountain settlements, characterized by a pattern of isolated residence and subsistence farming; (2) the coal camps, primarily composed of homogeneous work groups which were socially segregated and economically dependent upon a single extractive industry; and (3) the middle class towns, which were socially and economically tied to eastern urban centers (Lewis 1969). After World War II, rapid and far-reaching changes occurred in the coal fields. Mechanization of the mines reduced the camp population to at least one-half the original. Between 1950 and 1960 there was a 62 percent drop in mining employment in the eastern Kentucky coal fields and a population loss during the 1950's equal to 41 percent of the 1950 population (Brown 1962). The 1960's showed a continuation of the outmigration from the area (Brown 1970). Despite the tremendous out-migration from the area, the rapid technological changes in a one-industry area left a large number of unemployed miners and destitute families. Along with mechanization the companies began either selling the coal camps' housing to individual miners or destroying the camps. Not only was there a decline in workers and camp population but the ownership of automobiles also made it �12 Colonialism in Modern America possible for the workers to commute to work. Despite the decline in mining employment, coal production has remained high and has boomed in the 1970's. This, however, has not altered some of the basic problems of poverty, unemployment, poor health, and meager education. In order to analyze the nature of the Appalachian problems, we will review two models which have been used to describe and explain the social conditions of the region. In an attempt to understand some social phenomena, social scientists often construct models of that phenomena. By constructing a model, we are able to evaluate better the framework used by a particular researcher and compare one model with another. Thus, after surveying a number of competing models of some phenomena, we may conclude that one model better explains or predicts that in which we are interested. Or we may be able to combine one model with another so that our understanding is increased. Models may be constructed in a number of ways. We do not have the space here to review strategies for model construction, but we can say something about types of models. Models may be general or specific, working or non-working. General models apply to a wider range of phenomena than do specific models. For example, the model of the atom shows a general configuration of atomic structure and does not apply to any one atom; on the other hand, a model of a Rolls-Royce automobile applies only to that specific automobile. A working model replicates the action of that which it represents, and it operates on the same principles or "laws," thereby helping us to explain or understand the process of interrelationships among the various parts that make up the model. Like a photograph, the non-working model "freezes" the action which it represents. The dimensions of models can be combined so as to produce a general working or non-working model, or a specific working or non-working model. If we are to evaluate the merit or effectiveness of a model, we must look for a model that is both general (explains more than just one thing and refers to a class of phenomena) and working (operates in accordance with the principles ruling that which it represents). In the remainder of this chapter we will review two models of Appalachia to determine what value they �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 13 have in helping us understand the questions we posed earlier. These models have not always been overtly formulated by persons writing about Appalachia. We have taken the liberty of formulating two models; The Culture of Poverty and the Colonialism models, which are representative of dominant perspectives held by those interpreting Appalachia. Perhaps the most widely assumed model applied to Appalachia is the Culture of Poverty model. Valentine (1968) describes this model as a "Difference" or "Deficiency" model. This model involves describing the sub-culture of the Southern Appalachians and comparing it with the Greater Society. The accounts describe the customs, values, and style of life in a socio-historical tradition. A number of studies have assumed such a model (Weller 1965; Pearsall 1959, 1966; Stephenson 1968; Ford 1965; Ball 1968; Lewis 1968). These studies vary in the degree to which they emphasize the traits as "positive" or "functional" adaptations or as "pathological," disorganized, defeating value systems (Ball 1968). Some emphasize the subcultural traits as obsolete as indicated by such terms as "Yesterday's People" (Weller 1965), "Contemporary Ancestors" (Williams 1966), or "Arrested Frontier Culture" (Cressey 1953). Lesser (1970) finds that most sub-cultural descriptions emphasize only the dramatic and destructive traits of Appalachia (e.g., traditionalism, fatalism) and emphasize the Appalachian people as passive and apathetic carriers of their culture. Henighan (1970), in comparing Weller and Stephenson, finds that Stephenson emphasizes a more "positive" view of Appalachian values. Stephenson (1968) uses the term "contentment" as contrasted to Weller's (1965) term "fatalism." In an insightful essay, Roach and Gursslin (1967) evaluate the usefulness of the Culture of Poverty model. They suggest that much of the confusion about the culture of poverty is not with the notion of poverty but with the idea of culture. Most researchers begin with the assumption that such a sub-culture exists and then proceed to fill in its description. But culture is more than just description; culture refers to a set of normative patterns that emerge through a group's coping with its environment. Furthermore, the content of this culture must be transmitted from one generation to another. Much of the descriptive material about Appalachia has emphasized a somewhat stilted �14 Colonialism in Modern America rudimentary set of normative regulations with little concern for the content of what is transmitted from one generation to another. The assumption is that middle-class or dominant American values are not transmitted in Appalachia. A more pointed comment on the Culture of Poverty model concerns the purpose served by the model. "If the purpose is explanation, what is to be explained: group life, personality processes, deviant behavior, the origins of poverty, or the perpetuation of poverty?'' (Roach and Gursslin 1967, 386). If we are concerned with the causes of poverty, we must view it differently than if we are concerned with the effects of poverty. In the former case, we are concerned with the factors which led to those behaviors described as belonging to those in the culture of poverty. In the latter case, we want to know how these behaviors are transmitted from one generation to another. Description answers neither of these questions. There is little question about poverty in Appalachia. If we use income as a criterion, we find that the area of Appalachia which we are dealing with has a mean income of less than onehalf that of the remainder of the United States. If we use health as a factor, we find that only five of the 60 counties have infant mortality rates lower than the national average; in 34 counties the rate is 20 percent higher than the national rate. The tuberculosis rates in some parts of the area are 10 times the national average. And in 25 percent of the counties there are fewer than 30 physicians per 100,000, as compared with 139 per 100,000 in the United States as a whole. If we use education as a criterion, we find educational attainment is significantly lower than the remainder of the United States. Seventy percent of the adult population have completed fewer than eight years of schooling. If we turn our attention to housing, we find that the rate of construction is only two-thirds that of the national average, and only 33 percent of the housing is sound and is equipped with plumbing. Thus, by almost any standard, the level of living in this area is sub-standard, i.e., at the poverty level. None of the studies using the Culture of Poverty model tell us why these conditions prevail. And none of these studies inform us why these conditions cause certain values, norms, or behaviors among the people. One could dismiss all of this as nothing but academic folly if it were not for the fact that those �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 15 persons and agencies concerned with relieving the above conditions often accept the Culture of Poverty model. They focus on the values of the Appalachian and say that these must be changed. This is almost like saying that one needs to stop the bleeding when an artery is severed. However, the application of a band-aid to such a wound disregards the cause of the bleeding in very much the same way that programs designed to change values often disregard the roots of such values. We do not advocate discarding the Culture of Poverty model when such models (1) make clear what it is they are studying, (2) are concerned with both cause and perpetuation, and (3) do not confuse description with analysis. An alternative approach to the Culture of Poverty model is the Colonialism model. This model has also been called the Exploitation model (Valentine 1968). Lesser (1970) and other so-called radical critics of the Culture of Poverty model follow this approach. Lesser states: "Essentially, their [Culture of Poverty proponents] argument is that the under-development of the region is a function of Appalachian character rather than the exploitative conditions institutionalized in the region/' With the Exploitation model, however, one describes the Appalachians as a subsociety structurally alienated and lacking resources because of processes of the total economic political system. Those who control the resources preserve their advantages by discrimination. The people are not essentially passive; but these "subcultural" traits of fatalism, passivity, etc. are adjustive techniques of the powerless. They are ways by which people protect their way of life from new economic models and the concomitant alien culture. Lewis and Knipe (1970) emphasize certain of these values among Appalachians as reactions to powerlessness; they describe the socio-economic situation as "peasant-like." There has been a growing interest in using this model to describe the social and economic conditions of the Southern Appalachians and to declare the region a Colonial Empire. Harry M. Caudill, in Night Comes to the Cumberlands, calls the Appalachians "the last unchallenged stronghold of Western colonialism." This is not a new claim. C. Vann Woodward (1951) characterizes the whole South as a colony suffering from absentee ownership and economic exploitation. Woodward �16 Colonialism in Modern America places the Southern Appalachian colonialism in this context: As the 19th Century drew to a close and the new century progressed through the first decade, the penetration of the South and the Southern Appalachians was begun by Northeastern capital and is continuing at an accelerated rate. The Morgans, Mellons, the Rockefellers sent their agents to take charge of the region's railroads, mines, coke furnaces and financial corporations. (Woodward 1951) A systematic account of colonialism has been undertaken by Blauner (1969). In reference to the American Negro he makes a distinction between classical colonialism and internal colonialism. The basic difference between these two is that in classical colonialism the colonizer moves in from outside, whereas in internal colonialism the colonizer brings in those colonized. He defines classical colonialism as *'domination over a geographically external political unit, most often inhabited by people of a different race and culture; when this domination is political and economic, the colony exists subordinate to and dependent upon the mother country" (1968, 395). Blauner further distinguishes colonization as a process and colonialism as a system of relationships that exist between those dominating and those in a subordinate position. It is the process of oppression rather than differences in political and economic structure which is most important. Blauner suggests four components of the colonization complex. First, colonization begins with a forced, involuntary entry. Those in the dominant position are not invited guests. Second, the impact on culture and social organization is greater than we would expect through cultural contact and acculturation. There follows, soon after the entry of the colonizer, rather rapid modifications in values, orientation, and the way of life of the colonized. Third, colonization involves a relationship by which members of the colonized group tend to be administered by representatives of the dominant group. And fourth, there exists a condition of racism, "a principle of social domination by which a group, seen as inferior or different in terms of alleged biological characteristics, is exploited, controlled and oppressed socially and psychically by a superordinate group" (1969, 396). �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 17 If these relationships characterize the colonization process, what accounts for the colonized being colonized? Blauner suggests that the main source of domination comes from technological superiority. Those being colonized have resources, natural or human, which are useful to the colonizer. If these resources can be harnessed, the technological superiority of the colonizer is further enhanced, thereby increasing the degree of superiority. Thus the resources of the colonized perpetuate the colonization process. The Colonialism model shows somewhat more promise when applied to the Appalachian situation than the Culture of Poverty model. Blauner makes it clear what he is studying^ domination. He accounts for the cause and perpetuation of the condition, and because he is concerned with processes he goes beyond mere description. The question now is what information do we have to substantiate the applicability of this model in the Appalachian case. If the model "fits," we should be able to show how colonialism came to the mountains, how it is perpetuated, and, finally, what consequences it has had upon the local culture. Colonialism and Country Folks We have already touched upon the beginnings of coal mining in the Southern Appalachians. When the outside colonizers came to the Appalachians in the latter part of the 19th century, they found a society approximating an Asian or African country in its economic foundations. The outside speculators bought land, mineral, and timber rights from illiterate, simple mountain farmers. One important consequence of mining was that it did not open up the mountains. The isolation of the area went beyond just physical isolation; it now included social isolation. The inability of the indigenous population to cope with those representatives of the coal industry and the many fraudulent land deals that were made with the local people stand as bold evidence of antagonistic relationships.1 A survival of this early relationship is found in the "broad form" deeds that have been supported by the Kentucky courts. These deeds included "all minerals and metallic substances and �18 Colonialism in Modern America all combinations of the same," and they give the unconditional right to remove them by any method "deemed necessary or convenient." This stipulation has allowed companies to strip or surface mine land in the face of strong opposition by the land owners who had sold only the "mineral rights" many years before. The state has used the broad form deeds to support positive legal action against landowners who have attempted to block mining operations. Several cases have made the news in the past few years. Widow Combs placed her body in front of the dozers and ended up in the Knott County jail. Conspiracy charges were brought against Appalachia Volunteers and Southern Conference Education Fund workers who helped Jink Ray and other local landowners successfully stop stripping operations. Although many writers on Appalachia speak of the outside control of the wealth, the degree and extent to which this is true has been only slightly and sporadically documented. There are no systematic, thorough studies of the land and mineral ownership of the region. This "oversight" itself might be considered "evidence" of the protection which is provided colonizers. Even the Appalachian Regional Commission, after a number of years of data collection and analysis of various aspects of Appalachian poverty and economic potential, has only lately turned its attention to the Central Appalachian area, first with a study of capital resource and a proposed study of land and mineral ownership and taxation (Appalachian Regional Commission 1969). One must go to the "radical" student or "movement" publications or to the Bureau of Mines statistics to find any studies or documentation of such things as coal production. Kirby (1969), in a study of the tax records of eleven major coal producing counties in eastern Kentucky, found that 31 people and corporations owned four-fifths of east Kentucky's coal. It is estimated that 70 to 80 percent of the southwest Virginia minerals is owned by four or five large corporations. And David Walls (1969, 15) lists seven firms which produce one-third of the coal in Central Appalachia. More interesting is the fact that many of these "independent" companies are linked in corporate structures. One study (Barkan and Lloyd 1970) for a two-county area in southwest Virginia found a tightly linked chain of railroad men, industrialists, and financiers who own and benefit from the timber �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 19 and mineral wealth of the area. Diehl (1970) has traced some of the interconnections of ownership in eastern Kentucky and West Virginia. These connections extend in some cases beyond the borders of America to such places as South Africa and to such diversified industries as electronic equipment, chemicals, oil, banks, and auto manufacturers. The absorption of coal companies by fuel and energy industries reflects the major changes in dominant industries in the United States in general. The early coal companies were controlled by shipping and railroads; later they were dominated by the steel and automobile manufacturers. Beginning in the 1960's and the "Energy Era," fuel and electrical powers began their present domination. Another indication of outside control of the area is seen by looking at taxation and economic development. David Brooks talks of the role of the coal industry in regional development.2 He points to the limited ability of mining to provide economic development in a region. Unlike manufacturing or industries in which materials are fabricated or value is added through a production process, mining processes add little value and do little to stimulate other types of economic activities. Since mining is immobile, fixed in space, and limited to its one product, and since the work is arduous and dangerous, it must develop means of attracting or controlling labor. It is advantageous for coal mining to operate in isolation without competing companies. The characteristics of mining lead to a oneindustry area with labor tied to the one industry and little development outside the extraction of the minerals. This also leaves no development when the minerals are gone (McKelvey 1968). Without intervention, mining itself tends to develop certain exploitative or colonial characteristics. Resources generated by coal mining for the local area are meager. In other industries surplus is used for capital investments, which creates new corporations, associations, and other businesses, and develops a middle-stratum of technicians and specialists. This does not happen with coal mining. Except for wages paid to workers and local taxes paid to the area, coal mining offers little. At one time large numbers were �20 Colonialism in Modern America employed in the mines of the area. In 1932 there were 705,000 miners; in 1940 there were 439,000 miners; and today there are only 132,000 miners (Coal Data Book 1968). The mechanization of coal mining and the resulting decline in mining employment in the Southern Appalachians in the 1950's resulted in a wholesale migration from the area and a high degree of unemployment which continues into the 1970's. In Virginia there are still 8,862 miners in a six-county area. Coal mining is still the main source of employment, accounting for approximately one third of the total labor force. The coal companies paid $56,361,577 in wages in 1968. During the same year, the area produced 36,865,703 tons of coal which, if valued at $4.50 a ton, would total $165,956,000 (Virginia Department of Labor and Industry 1968). The total taxes paid to the area are not known. But one can draw some conclusions from the records of one company. This company in 1967 employed 448 men and mined approximately 2,500,000 tons of coal in four mines. Wages, if all the men worked full time, would have been approximately $3,240,000; royalties to the corporation owning the mineral rights to the land @$.142 per ton would amount to $360,000; and 40 cents a ton to the United Mine Workers' Health and Welfare Fund would amount to $1,000,000. The landholding company and the mining company paid $207,533 in county taxes in 1968. This amount represents taxes on land under development, land not under development, buildings, and equipment. In addition to the four mines, land was leased for stripping, augering, and several truck mine operations. The total outlay for wages, royalties, and taxes was $3,807,533. The value of the coal at $4.50 per ton was $11,128,000. This leaves a difference of $7,320,467. The amount of taxes paid, although small in comparison to gross income, represents 13.5 percent of the tax income for the county in which the company has its operations. Despite their resources, the coal mining counties generate a smaller proportion of the total revenue than the counties in the rest of the Appalachian area. The corporation having the mineral rights mentioned above is probably the most profitable in America. According to its 1968 Annual Report it netted 64 percent of gross and paid dividends of 40 cents out of each dollar received (Penn Virginia Corporation Annual Report, 1968). Harry Caudill (1968) reports the same corporation as netting 61 percent of gross and �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 21 paying 45 cents on each dollar received in 1964. He compares it with General Motors which reported a profit of 10.2 cents from each dollar received and paid a dividend of five cents. Caudill claims that this corporation is characteristic of other mineral-owning corporations in the area. Depletion and depreciation allowances give coal companies a very favorable position. Depletion for coal mined is based on the cost of the mineral properties and estimated recoverable tonnage. In some cases the depletion allowances is greater than the taxes on the minerals and the land. Although the original purchases of most of the mineral lands were made before 1900 at 30 cents to $1.00 an acre, the depletion is figured on the last price paid. When lands change hands, even through a subsidiary, the new cost is the basis for the depletion. This is figured as the percentage of the cost of the land which is mined during the year. Kirby (1969) points out that this is an incentive to sell. An acre bought for 50 cents can be sold in a year of mining for $5,000, thereby increasing the cost depletion allowance considerably. Another concession to coal companies is the tax on mine equipment and machinery. In Virginia they are taxed at only 10 percent of their value, while the equipment of all others, belonging either to individuals and/or businesses, is taxed at approximately one-third of its value. Here also, resale to subsidiaries can make this even lower for coal companies. A leasing company can sell a $100,000 machine to a mining company which it controls for $10,000; then the mining company will pay tax on 10 percent of that or $1,000. Caudill (1966) reports a similar situation in Kentucky. Through resale to subsidiaries, mining machinery worth $75,000 is valued at $3,000; taxes are less than a miner pays on the automobile which he drives to work to operate the machine. Blizzard (1966) reports taxes low in West Virginia because of the influence of the coal industry. West Virginia has a gross sales tax regardless of profit or loss, but coal companies do not pay on sales made at out-of-state markets, thus excluding most of the coal sales. Machinery and supplies used for coal mining are also exempt from sales tax. In line with the general tendency of colonists to be exploitive, we find that public spiritedness on the part of coal operations is rare in the area. Coal companies in Virginia are �22 Colonialism in Modern America suing the counties, claiming that assessing 'land under development" at a differential rate is in fact a form of severence tax on mined coal which is unconstitutional. Most of the remarks concerning civic responsibility made by coal company representatives sound like turn-of-the-century rugged capitalism. When asked about decaying coal camps, burning slag heaps, or disabled and unemployed miners, coal company executives are heard to say that they have no responsibility to the area or the people. Their responsibility is to mine coal as cheaply and efficiently as possible and to make a profit for the company and the stockholders. They provide employment and housing when needed and get food stores when necessary to hold employees; they continue these as long as they are necessary to keep workers or are profitable to the company. Even one of the most public-spirited executives of a large mining company said that the decision to begin strip mining was made because it was "the logical thing, cost wise" (Trillin 1969). This same executive has been quoted in the Mountain Eagle and with great candor in the NET film Rich Lands, Poor People: "If there is something wrong with what we are doing in Eastern Kentucky, then there is something wrong with the country." The condition of racism associated with the Colonialism model is well illustrated in Appalachia. Memmi (1967) points out that it is not only the colonizers but the colonized who go into businesses that engage in this practice. In the region one finds that the smaller independent coal operators are even more conservative in their political and economic ideology than the outsiders. The Independent Coal Leader claims to represent the small operators; its contents reflect a general negative evaluation of the local population who are unemployed. It has also taken rather dramatic stands against any individual or organization attempting to question the coal industry and its practices. Most of these small operators are dependent upon the larger companies for leases or money for equipment or coal sales facilities. A number of local millionnaires have emerged in the area through strip mining, the selling of equipment, and truck mining. It is interesting to observe how many of these persons make their money and then retire to Florida. Perhaps Florida serves as the "homeland" for the native who joins the colonists. The natives who become colonizers of their own people must protect themselves by giving an even more disparaging �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 23 evaluation of the people than the outsider. While the outsider may become interested in the ways of the natives—collecting quilts, mountain folk tales, and music—and speak with appreciation about mountain culture, the native exploiter is more likely to denigrate his own, to speak of laziness and "sorriness," or to speak negatively of a "certain class" of people, especially those on welfare or those who are unemployed. The native colonizers recount stories of the untrustworthiness and unreliability of their workers. Since these small operators often pay even less than minimum wages, they find themselves in competition with welfare programs. This is not a new pattern. General John Daniel Imboden was one of the earliest "developers" of the area. In 1880 he bought 47,000 acres of mineral lands in Wise County, Virginia. Later, he bought 21,000 acres for only 35 cents an acre for "certain gentlemen of large means" who were officials of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad (Henson 1965). A list of property made in May, 1880, reveals that Imboden and his son owned one-sixth interest in over 100,000 acres in Wise County. Imboden purchased land, built the railroad into the coal fields, and later was a lobbyist in North Carolina for the coal interests. After a stint at the state capital in Raleigh he wrote about the elegant people he was meeting. He said he told them about Wise County and "how nice it was. . . and interested them so much that when our road is built they are coming out to see for themselves. They think it must be delightful to see and mingle with such primitive people" (Henson, 7). One test to determine whether colonization exists is to see whether the colonists utilize the same services they provide for the colonized. The colonizers generally distrust such services in Appalachia, especially local doctors and local hospitals. Local medical personnel are mistrusted because they provide services for miners or country people and therefore inadequate service for they, too, are opportunists or exploiters. A local hospital administrator resents the fact that members of the local board travel 100-300 miles eastward to see "good doctors" or obtain "good medical services" because the "coal camp doctors" are not as good. Other local services and professionals who stay in the area are denigrated. The opinion is that they are no good or they would go elsewhere. Fannon (1963), in "Dying Colonialism," an essay about the native's attitude toward available medical �24 Colonialism in Modern America services, points to the native's distrust of local medicine, and sees it as an agent of the colonists. Perhaps the judgment is true. The fantastically poor medical service provided in the early days of coal camps in the Appalachians has been documented (Boone 1947). Today, coal company doctors often refuse to admit the existence of pneumoconiosis or "black lung," and one company doctor was elected to the Virginia House of Delegates and succeeded in getting the disease removed from the Workman's Compensation. Company doctors are said by many miners to be reluctant to report injuries or to diagnose pneumoconiosis in order to protect the company's insurance rates. But they are likely to diagnose it when the person is seeking employment in order to keep the company from "getting stuck" with an already disabled miner. To continue with examples of conformity between the realities of Appalachian life and the Colonialism model would be pointless. It cannot be disputed that the coal interests came into the region "uninvited," that cultural patterns changed as a result of this intrusion, and that the area is controlled by representatives of the industry. The fact that racism exists to perpetuate this pattern has been illustrated. Since these conditions exist, it would appear that any recommendations for change should take these factors into consideration. Changing the values of Appalachians will not change the system of colonialism nor will knowledge of the situation. Both Radcliffe-Brown and Malinowski suggest that we must know something about those who were to benefit from Western colonialism (Harris 1968, 514-567). But they are careful not to question the motives of the British colonizers. Unfortunately, much ethnography has been carried out under colonial conditions; and, in a way, the anthropologist has become as much a colonizer as those having economic and political interests in an area. We tend to study those who resist the least, and colonized peoples are powerless to resist our intrusion into their culture. While the anthropologist often becomes the native's advocate, he may not wish to upset those conditions which enable him to continue his research. "Moderation, compromise and civil service decorum are the ethical bases for the aspiring 'practical anthropologist' " (Malinowski 1945, 161). �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 25 Future Prospects In looking at the two models we find differences in responses to the conditions in Appalachia. Those who follow the deficiency or difference approach (the Culture of Poverty model) work to help and change people. Their object is to change the values of the poor and assimilate them into the middle class or the "greater" culture. Various programs of social work, education, and psychiatry are designed to change attitudes, to motivate, and to assimilate. Those who follow the exploitation or colonialism model emphasize the need to change the structure of society. They advocate the redistribution of goods and resources to give power to the poor. If colonized peoples always rebel, then we must wait and see what happens in Appalachia. Blauner (1967) attributes the revolt of Blacks in America to their colonized position, and Moore (1970) uses the same model to explain the rebellion of Mexican-Americans. Tom Gish, editor of the Mountain Eagle in Whitesburg, Kentucky, talks about colonialism, outside exploitation of the wealth, and the various government programs for amelioration. Although outside corporations still exploit the resources, he feels that the period of blatant colonial control and local domination is past. The coal companies can continue to mine the minerals through control over a few politicians, state courts and lawyers, and they can control labor through collusion with the United Mine Workers. In the meantime, they can ignore and leave behind the many social problems resulting from technological change: illness, injury, powerlessness, and deprivation. These will be handled, along with polluted streams and devastated land, by federal government programs. The early war on poverty programs tried to create political action; such action was frightening to the local power structure and to the corporate interests. These programs have been co-opted or dropped. The focus is now on economic development, assistance, and control. Regional offices of Health, Education and Welfare, of Labor, of the U.S. Corps of Engineers, of the Office of Economic Opportunity, of the Departments of Agriculture and Interior funnel in programs of "assistance" through regional economic planning and development organizations. Gish finds these regional organizations developing more and more like the Office of Indian Affairs, i.e. to control the natives. Perhaps this type of action is a latter stage of colonialism in which those who are left-over, �26 Colonialism in Modern America the land and the people, are now wards of the government, living on an Appalachian Reservation. NOTES ^Warren Wright, Burdine, Kentucky, has researched early titles and land transfers in parts of eastern Kentucky. He finds many cases of fraudulent and illegal leases and ownership. ^David Brooks, former chief economist, Bureau of Mines, in talks to the Appalachian Seminar, Clinch Valley College, January 1970. �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 27 REFERENCES CITED Appalachian Regional Commission 1968 Research Report No. 8, Preliminary Analysis for Development of Central Appalachia. Washington, D.C. 1969 Research Report No. 9, Appendix C, Capital Resources in the Central Appalachian Region. Cheechi and Co., Washington, D.C. 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People's Appalachia (March) 1970 "How International Energy Elite Rules" People's Appalachia (April-May) Fanon, Frantz 1967 A Dying Colonialism New York: Grove Ford, Thomas R. 1965 "The Effects of Prevailing Values and Beliefs on the Perpetuation of Poverty in Rural Areas" Problems of Chronically Depressed Rural Areas North Carolina University: Agriculture Policy Institute 1965 "Value Orientations of a Culture of Poverty: The Southern Appalachian Case" Working with low-income families, American Home Economics Association, Washington, D.C. Harris, Marvin 1968 The Rise of Anthropological Theory New York: Thomas Y. Crowell �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 29 Henigham, Richard 1970 Remarks at People's Appalachian Research Collective Conference Huntington, West Virginia Henson, Edward L. 1965 General Imboden and the Economic Development of Wise County 1880-81 Historical Society of Southwest Virginia (February 6-8) Kephart, Horace 1913 Our Southern Highlanders New York: MacMillan Kirby, Richard 1969 "Kentucky Coal: Owners, Taxes, Profits: A Study in Representations Without Taxation" Appalachian Lookout 1,6 (October), 19-27 Knipe, Edward E. and Lewis, Helen M. 1969 "The Impact of Coal Mining on the Traditional Mountain SubCulture: A Case of Peasantry Gained and Peasantry Lost" A paper read at the annual meeting of the Southern Anthropological Society, New Orleans, Louisiana Lesser, Roger 1970 "Culture: Toward Tomorrow's People" People's Appalachia, No. 1 (March) Lewis, Helen M. 1968 "Subcultures of the Southern Appalachians" The Virginia Geographer 3,1 (Spring), 2-3 McKelvey, V. E. 1968 "Appalachia: Problems and Opportunities" Mineral Resources of the Appalachian Region, Geological Survey Professional Paper 580, Washington, D.C. Malinowski, B. 1945 The Dynamics of Culture Chicago: An Inquiry Into Race Relations in Africa, P. Kaberry, ed., New Haven: Yale University Press Memmi, Albert 1965 The Colonizer and the Colonized Boston: Beacon �30 Colonialism in Modern America Moore, Joan W. 1970 "Colonialism: The Case of the Mexican-Americans" Social Problems 71,4 (Spring), 463-472 National Coal Association 1968 Bituminous Coal Facts Washington, D.C. 1968 Coal Data Book Washington, D.C. Pearsall, Marion 1959 Little Smokey Ridge Alabama Press 1966 University of Alabama: University of "Communicating With the Educationally Deprived" Mountain Life and Work (Spring), 3-11 Penn Virginia Corporation 1968 Penn Virginia Corporation Annual Report Roach, Jack L. and Gursslin, Orville R. 1967 "An Evaluation of the Concept 'Culture of Poverty5 " Social Forces 45,3 (March), 383-392 Roberts, Leonard W. 1959 Up Cutshin and Down Greasy Lexington: University of Kentucky Stephenson, John B. 1968 Shiloh: A Mountain Community Kentucky Lexington: University of Trillin, Calvin 1969 "U.S. Journal: Kentucky, the Logical Thing, Costwise" New Yorker (December 27), 33-36 Valentine, Charles A. 1968 Culture and Poverty Chicago: University of Chicago Press Virginia Department of Labor and Industry 1968 Annual Report �The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case 31 Walls, David 1968-69 Research Bulletins - issues of Appalachian Lookout Prestonsburg, Kentucky Weller, Jack 1965 Yesterday's People Lexington: University of Kentucky Williams, Jonathan 1966 "The Southern (June), 47-66 Appalachians" Craft Woodward, C. Vann 1951 Origins of the New South University Press Horizons, X-XVI, 3 Baton Rouge, Louisana: State ����33 II: of of the of by as it has is the in in of the the A of in at the as a and the points to the in the and the in and development. ag- of the in of left out of due to the in the for the He of a and es by the in "The in of by on for the life is a the the be of in a to Sir of of the is the of the lie the of the in of the of the Si in "The the U.S. is for the has the of He the and out the for in a re- of to in �m �IN AT A D. Kller ern and the off of our most a set the of the of the as the As to a to the the to the for the and and the of the in of the as Jr., and of the and in as a the in for of the in a as "a the by a of in at fit a of ffe is tit at has for alfor the a a of the at fit of of �36 Colonialism in Modern America the process of American historical growth. To the urban middleclass readers of Cosmopolitan, Harper's, and Atlantic Monthly, the apparent persistence of pioneer-like conditions in the mountains seemed to reflect not merely the normal patterns of rural life but "an earlier phase of American development preserved, like a mammoth in ice."3 Because metaphor was more interesting than reality, the Appalachian present came to be linked with the American past, and eventually the analogy was accepted as fact. By the turn of the century, according to historian Henry Shapiro, the idea that Appalachia was "a discrete ethnic and cultural unit within but not of America" had become a convention of the popular mind.4 For Americans of the Progressive period who had witnessed the passing of the western frontier, Appalachia became "the frontier we have left within," and the mountaineers were "our contemporary ancestors."5 Succeeding generations have periodically rediscovered and reinterpreted the region in the context of their own day, but the static image has remained the standard perception of mountain life. In 1913, for example, Horace Kephart found "our Southern highlanders. . .still thinking essentially the same thoughts, still living in much the same fashion as did their ancestors in the days of Daniel Boone. The progress of mankind from that age to this," he claimed, "is no heritage of theirs."6 James Watt Raine traveled the "land of saddlebags" in 1924 and again in 1942, and a decade later North Callahan made a similar journey into what he believed was the "happy" but "static society" of the Smoky Mountain country.7 With the outbreak of the war on poverty in the 1960's, the mountaineers became simply "Yesterday's People"—part of that "other America" of which Michael Harrington wrote.8 More recently, the rise of the new ethnicity and the counterculture movement have brought attention to the mountain people as just plain "down home folk," and a flourishing minor industry has developed to fabricate such oddities as dulcimers, quilts, log cabins and "Maw's Moonshine Hunie." Of late we have also seen the introduction of courses in Appalachian studies and the proliferation of symposia aimed at diagnosing the "unique" qualities of mountain life. But this revival of interest has done little to alter our traditional views. According to one well known student of the region, Appalachia can still be seen "as a vanishing frontier and its people as frontiersmen, suspended and isolated, while the rest of the country moves across the twentieth century. "^ Marooned on an island �Industrialization and Social Change 37 of hills, the mountaineer has seemed shut off from the forces which have shaped the modern world. He has lived, we are told, in a land "Where Time Stood Still."10 Arnold Toynbee may have offered the most callous assertion of this view when he suggested that the mountain people of the South were little better than barbarians. "They have relapsed into illiteracy and witchcraft/' he wrote. "They suffer from poverty, squalor, and ill health. They are the American counterparts of the latter-day white barbarians of the Old World —Rifis, Albanians, Kurds, Pathans, and Hairy Ainus." But whereas these latter seemed to be the belated survivals of an ancient barbarism, "the Appalachians/' Toynbee argued, "present the melancholy spectacle of a people who have acquired civilization and then lost it."11 Cast in the static role, mountain people have thus rarely appeared as conscious actors on the stage of American history, and almost never on center stage. They are acknowledged to exist somewhere in the background, as subjects to be acted upon, but not as people participating within the historical drama itself. As a result, our efforts to explain and deal with the social problems of the region have focused not on economic and political realities in the area as they evolved over time, but on the supposed inadequacies of a pathological culture which is seen to have poorly equipped mountain people for life in the modern industrial world. Having overlooked elements of movement and change that have tied the mountains to the rest of the American experience, we have blamed the mountaineers for their own distress, rather than the forces which have caused it.12 Blaming the victim, of course, is not a uniquely American phenomenon. Rather it is a misreading that takes international form. French intellectuals talk about the Alps, and Spanish intellectuals talk about the Pyrenees in much the same simple if condescending way that urban Americans talk about Appalachia.13 Indeed, all over the world the terms applied to rural people by urban people have implied either contempt and condescension, or—and this is the opposite of the same attitude— a romantic admiration for the simple, hardy virtues of rural life.14 Since the Southern mountains were among the most rural areas of eastern America, the Appalachian people have suffered exceedingly from this type of urban provincialism. �38 Colonialism in Modern America Ironically, it was during the same years that the static image was emerging as the dominant literary view that a revolution of dynamic proportions was shaking the very foundations of the mountain social order. In Appalachia, as in the rest of the country, the decades from 1880 to 1930 were years of transition and change. What had been in 1860 only the quiet backcountry of the Old South became by the turn of the century a new frontier for expanding industrial capitalism. The coming of railroads, the building of towns and villages, and the general expansion of industrial employment greatly altered the traditional patterns of mountain life and called forth certain adjustments, responses, and defenses on the part of the mountaineers. This transformation varied in scope and speed, but by the end of the 1920's few residents of the region were left untouched by the industrial age. The effects of this transition were large. For one thing, mountain agriculture went into serious decline. While the size of the average mountain farm was about 187 acres in the 1880's, by 1930 the average Appalachian farm contained only 76 acres, and in some counties the average was as low as 47 acres.15 This decline was universal throughout the region but was most pronounced in the coal fields and other areas of intense economic growth. Significantly, while the total number of farms increased during these years, the total amount of land in farms actually decreased almost twenty percent as a result of the purchase of farm properties by timber and mining companies and for inclusion in national forests and parks.16 Farm productivity and income also changed. While farm production had been the major (and usually the sole) source of income in 1880, by 1930 most mountain farms had become part-time units of production, and the major source of income had shifted to non-agricultural employment—mining, logging, carpentry, and other forms of public work.17 In Knott County, Kentucky, for example, the income per farm from farming in 1930 averaged only $215, while the income per farm from non-farm enterprises averaged over $342.18 In 1880 the mountains had been a major producer of swine in the South, but by 1930 swine production in the region had declined to only 39 percent of its former level.19 Such data suggests that the traditional image of the pre-industrial mountain farm must be altered, and that the small, marginal farm usually associated with �Industrialization and Social Change 39 the stereotyped picture of Appalachia was in fact a product of industrialization—that is, a more recent development not associated with the purported isolation of the region. Along with the decline of agriculture came subtle changes in demographic relationships as well. Whereas mountain society in the 1880's had been characterized by a diffuse pattern of open-country agricultural settlements located primarily in the fertile valleys and plateaus, by the turn of the century the population had begun to shift into non-agricultural areas and to concentrate around centers of industrial growth. Between 1900 and 1930, the urban population of the region increased four-fold and the rural non-farm population almost two-fold, while the farm population itself increased by only five percent.20 A few of the burgeoning urban centers were destined to be temporary communities, such as the big timber towns of Sunburst and Ravensford in the Great Smoky Mountains, but most were permanent structures which had a lasting impact upon mountain life. It is important to point out, moreover, that the majority of these new industrial communities were company towns. In fact, over six hundred company towns were constructed in the Southern mountains during this period, and in the coal fields they outnumbered independent incorporated towns more than five to one.21 This rising urban population provided a base for the emergence of a more modern political system in the mountains, one increasingly dominated by corporate interests and businessminded politicians. Where the traditional political order had relied largely on kinship, personal contacts, and a broad-based party structure, after the turn of the century the level of citizen participation declined, and the average farmer or laborer became isolated from the political process. As early as the 1890's, industrialists such as Stephan B. Elkins in West Virginia and H. Clay Evans in Tennessee had begun to gain control of the political organizations in the mountains and to turn the powers of state and local government toward the expansion of commerce and the exploitation of the region's natural resources.22 As a result, there emerged in Appalachia a contracted political system based upon an economic hierarchy—those who controlled the jobs also controlled the political system, and those who controlled the political system used their power to exploit the region's natural wealth for their own personal gain. This loss of �40 Colonialism in Modern America local political control naturally distressed many mountain people and plunged the region into prolonged industrial violence and social strife.*3 Behind this transition in political culture lay the integration of the region into the national economy and the subordination of local interests to those of outside corporations. Nowhere was this process more evident than in the concentration of large amounts of mountain land in the hands of absentee owners. Beginning in the 1870's, Northern speculators and outside businessmen carved out huge domains in the rich timberlands and mineral regions of Appalachia. By 1910 outlanders controlled not only the best stands of hardwood timber and the thickest seams of coal but a large percentage of the surface land in the region as well. For example, in that portion of western North Carolina which later became the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, over 75 percent of the land came under the control of thirteen corporations, and one timber company alone owned over a third of the total acreage.24 The situation was even worse in the coal fields. According to the West Virginia State Board of Agriculture in 1900, outside capitalists owned 90 percent of the coal in Mingo County, 90 percent of the coal in Wayne County, and 60 percent of that in Boone and McDowell Counties.25 Today, absentee corporations control more than half the total land area in the nine southernmost counties of that state.26 The immediate effect of this concentration of land holding was to dislodge a large part of the region's population from their ancestral homes. A few former landowners managed to remain on the land as sharecroppers or tenant farmers, and occasionally a family continued to Hve temporarily on the old homeplace, paying rent to absentee landlords.27 But a great number of the displaced mountaineers migrated to the mill villages and mining towns where they joined the ever-growing ranks of the new industrial working class. In the Cumberland Plateau, less than a third of those employed in 1930 remained in agriculture. The rest had moved to the mines or into service related jobs.28 Uprooted from their traditional way of life, some individuals were unable to reestablish permanent community ties, and they became wanderers drifting from mill to mill, from company house to company house, in search of higher pay or better living conditions. Most dreamed initially of returning to the land after a few years of public work, but the rising land values which ac- �Industrialization and Social Change 41 companied industrial development soon pushed land ownership beyond the reach of the average miner or mill hand. Caught up in the social complex of the new industrial communities, many mountaineers found themselves unable to escape their condition of powerlessness and dependency. By coming to a coal mining town, the miner had exchanged the independence and somewhat precarious self-sufficiency of the family farm for subordination to the coal company and dependence upon a wage income. He lived in a company house; he worked in a company mine; and he purchased his groceries and other commodities from the company store. He sent his children to the company school and patronized the company doctor and the company church. The company deducted rent, school, medical and other fees from his monthly wage, and under the prevailing system of scrip, he occasionally ended the month without cash income. He had no voice in community affairs or working conditions, and he was dependent upon the benevolence of the employer to maintain his rate of pay. Socially, if not physically, the working class mountaineer was more isolated in his new situation than he had been on the family farm, for industrialization introduced rigid class distinctions into the highland culture.29 Traditional status distinctions had always existed, but there were few economic differences within the rural population. With the coming of the industrial age, however, the dichotomy between employer and employed became overt. In the company town the miners lived in small dwellings in the hollow near the tipple, but mine superintendents often built palatial structures high on the hillside overlooking the town. 30 Surrounded by elegant trees and well-kept grounds, these homes clearly defined the operator's social rank. In some communities the railroad track literally divided the town in two, separating the more substantial residences of the managing class from the miners' shacks. The social gap between the classes increased, moreover, as managers and professional personnel developed life styles and formal institutions different from those of the working class. By 1930, therefore, most mountaineers whether they remained on the farm or migrated to the mill villages, timber towns, or coal camps, had become socially integrated within the new industrial system, and economically dependent upon it as �42 Colonialism in Modern America well. To say the least, this dependence was not on their own terms—that is to say, it was not a product of mountain culture but of the same political and economic forces that were shaping the rest of the nation and the western world. The rise of industrial capitalism brought to Appalachia a period of rapid growth and social change which those who hold to the static image have chosen to ignore. The brief prosperity brought on by the bonanza that was capitalism broadened the mountaineer's economic horizon. It aroused aspirations, envies, and hopes. But the industrial wonders of the age promised more than they in fact delivered, for the profits taken from the rich natural resources of the region flowed out of the mountains with little return to the mountain people themselves. For a relative handful of owners and managers the new order yielded riches unimaginable a few decades before; for thousands of mountaineers it brought a life of struggle, hardship, and despair. Considered from this perspective, the persistent poverty of Appalachia has not resulted from the lack of modernization. Rather, it has come from the particular kind of modernization that unfolded in the years from 1880 to 1930. Earlier in this paper I quoted at length from Arnold Toynbee. I would like to end with a quotation from a native mountaineer who found another kind of barbarism at work in the Southern mountains. Writing in The Hills Beyond, Thomas Wolfe lamented the tragic changes that had come over his beloved homeland in the years after Reconstruction. "The great mountain slopes and forests of the section," he wrote, "had been ruinously detimbered; the farm-soil on the hillsides had eroded and washed down; high up, upon the hills, one saw the raw scars of old mica pits, the dump heaps of deserted mines. . . It was evident that a huge compulsive greed had been at work: the whole region had been sucked and gutted, milked dry, denuded of its rich primeval treasures; something blind and ruthless had been here, grasped and gone. The blind scars on the hills, the denuded slopes, the empty mica pits were what was left. . . . Something had come into the wilderness, and left the barren land. "31 �Industrialization and Social Change 43 NOTES author is indebted to the Rockefeller Foundation for research support on this subject. ^See Henry David Shapiro, "A Strange Land and Peculiar People: The Discovery of Appalachia, 1870-1920*' (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Rutgers University, 1966), pp. 250 ff., and Gratis Dearl Williams, "The Southern Mountaineer in Fact and Fiction" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, New York University, 1961), pp. 1605 ff. 3 Henry David Shapiro, "Introduction" to John C. Campbell, The Southern Highlander and His Homeland (Lexington, 1969), p. xxvi. ^"Shapiro, "A Strange Land and Peculiar People," p. v;see Shapiro's forthcoming monograph Appalachia on Our Mind: The Southern Mountains and Mountaineers in the American Consciousness, 1870-1920 (Chapel Hill, 1977). ^Woodrow Wilson, "Our Last Frontier," Berea Quarterly, Vol. 4, No. 2 (May, 1899), 5; William Goodell Frost, "Our Contemporary Ancestors in the Southern Mountains, "Atlantic Mo nthly, 83 (March, 1899), 311. ^Horace Kephart, Our Southern Highlanders (New York, 1913), p. 211. 7 Jarnes Watt Raine, The Land of Saddle-Bags (New York, 1924); James Watt Raine, Saddlebag Folk (Evanston, 1942); North Callahan, Smoky Mountain Country (Boston, 1952), p. 74. °Jack E. Weller, Yesterday's People: Life in Contemporary Appalacchia (Lexington 1965). ^Gratis Dearl Williams, "Heritage of Appalachia," address to the Southern Appalachian Regional Conference (May 13, 1974) reprinted in The Future of Appalachia (Boone, 1975), p. 128. �44 Colonialism in Modern America and Nancy Roberts, Where Time Stood Still: A Portrait of Appalachia (Boone, 1975), p. 128. 11 Arnold Toynbee, A Study of History (New York, 1947), II, 312. l^See Dwight Billings, "Culture and Poverty in Appalachia: A Theoretical Discussion and Empirical Analysis," Social Forces, 53 (December, 1974), 315-23; Stephen L. Fisher, "Folk Culture or Folk Tale: Prevailing Assumptions About the Appalachian Personality" (unpublished paper delivered at the Appalachian Symposium in honor of Gratis D. Williams, Appalachian State University, Boone, N.C., April, 1976); David S. Walls, "Three Models in Search of Appalachian Development: Critique and Synthesis" (unpublished paper, May, 1976, College of Social Professions, University of Kentucky, Lexington). 1* Roland Barthes, Mythologies, translated by Annette Lavers (New York, 1972), pp. 74-76. 14 Robert Redfield, Peasant Society and Culture (New York, 1960), p. 38. .S. Department of Interior, Census Office, The Tenth Census: 1880, Agricultural Statistics, Vol. Ill; U.S. Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Fifteenth Census of the United States, 1930: Agriculture-. The Southern States, Vol. 2, Part 2. *"U.S. Department of Agriculture, Miscellaneous Publication No. 205, Economic and Social Problems and Conditions of the Southern Appalachians (Washington, D.C., 1935), p. 16; Lewis Cecil Gray, "Economic Conditions and Tendencies in the Southern Appalachians as Indicated by the Cooperative Survey," Mountain Life and Work, Vol. 9, No. 2 (July, 1933), 9. *'U.S. Department of Agriculture, Publ. No. 205, Economic and Social Conditions, pp. 3, 16. y, "Economic Conditions in the Southern Appalachians," p. 10; see also W. D. Nicholls, "A Research Approach to the Problems of Appalachia," Mountain Life and Work, Vol. 7, No. 10 (January, 1932), 5-8 and U.S. Department of Agriculture, Publ. No. 205, Economic and Social Conditions, pp. 41-57. 1°U.S. Department of Interior, Census Office, The Tenth Census: �Industrialization and Social Change 45 1880, Agricultural Statistics, Vol. Ill; U.S. Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Fifteenth Census of the United States, 1930: Agriculture: The Southern States, Vol. 2, Part 2. , "Economic Conditions in the Southern Appalachians," p. 8; U.S. Department of Agriculture, Publ. No. 205, Economic and Social Conditions, pp. 120-121. . Congress, Senate, Report of the United States Coal Commission, Sen. Doc. 195, 68th Cong. 2d. sess., 1925, Table 14, p. 1467; U.S. Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Thirteenth Census of the United States, 1910: Population, Vols. II and III. 2^See John Alexander Williams, "The New Dominion and the Old: Antebellum and Statehood Politics as the Background of West Virginia's 'Bourbon Democracy/ " West Virginia History, 33 (July, 1972), 322; Gordon Bartiett McKinney, "Mountain Republicanism, 1876-1900" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Northwestern University, 1971), p. 170. 23 See Gordon B. McKinney, "Industrialization and Violence in Appalachia in the 1800's" (unpublished paper delivered at the Appalachian Symposium in Honor of Gratis D. Williams, Appalachian State University, Boone, N.C., April, 1976). "North Carolina Portion of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Showing Individual Ownership," Western Carolina University, Archives, Hunter Library. Virginia, State Board of Agriculture, Fifth Biennial Report of the West Virginia State Board of Agriculture for the Years 1899 and 1900 (1900), p. 371. D. Miller, "Absentees Dominate Land Ownership," in Who Owns West Virginia? reprinted from the Herald-Advertiser and the HeraldDispatch (Huntington, 1974), pp. 1-3. 2' James Lane Allen, "Mountain Passes of the Cumberlands," Harper's Magazine, 81 (September, 1890), 575; Herbert Francis Sherwood, "Our Racist Drama," North American Review, 216 (October, 1922), 494; Campbell, The Southern Highlander, pp. 87, 314. ™U.S. Department of Agriculture, Publ. No. 205, Economic and Social Conditions, p. 3. �46 Colonialism in Modern America Edward E. Knipe and Helen M. Lewis, "The Impact of Coal Mining on the Traditional Mountain Subculture," in J. Kenneth Moreland, ed., The Not So Solid South: Anthropological Studies in a Regional Subculture (Athens, Georgia, 1971), p. 28. H. Gollenwater, "Cultural and Historical Geography of Mining Settlements in the Pocahontas Coal Field of Southern West Virginia, 1880 to 1930" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Tennessee, 1972), p. 87; R. H. Lyman, "Coal Mining at Holden, West Virginia," The Engineering and Mining Journal, LII (December 15, 1906), 1171. 31 Thomas Wolfe, The Hills Beyond (New York, 1941), pp. 236-237. �by Rev. Jack It be at six to the The of me an ago 1P*OUP sponsoring their if in all to of six in the in a we In of the so Ever}7 in a on did I doing. "We to us, you," the Its to is the to us us we is we to us to be we get we too. it is for us, get to go Ate. 2 if Jw Is a a/ tie at He for i» /or �48 Colonialism in Modern America I suspect that America has several such colonies within her borders. Appalachia is its most prominent one. A colony, as I understand it, is a group of people with land and resources which are owned and/or controlled by persons other than themselves, and whose resources and productive capacities are used for the advantage of those who control them. Appalachia is simply our American example of how we use colonization powers in the economic realm all over the world. We strip an area and its people of their wealth under the guise of "developing" them, saying all the time of course that without this development look where they'd be. Yet in essence, we are robbing them of their wealth, impoverishing their people, controlling their economy, politics and people, meanwhile growing rich and powerful in the process. Minerals, Timber & Recreation Appalachia is indeed such a colony—a mineral colony, if you will—providing the energy to run the generators, steel mills, power plants, air conditioners, and can openers for an affluent nation while remaining poor itself. Appalachia is also a timber colony, a recreation colony, and an oil and gas colony. In Central Appalachia, coal is king. There are estimates that over one trillion dollars worth of this black gold has been mined from east Kentucky alone. But in this area, according to the 1960 census (the last one for which these figures are calculated), 6 of the 10 poorest counties in America lie. Perry County, where I live, the fifth highest coal-producing county in the state, can afford to pay only 14 percent of its public school bill. Letcher County, the third highest coal producer, can afford barely over 8 percent of its costs for the education of her children. Based on the 1970 census, in Pike County, the highest Kentucky mountain coal producer, the per capita income is little more than 40 percent of the national per capita, and other mountain counties range from that high point to 18 percent of the national per capita. �Appalachia: America s Mineral Colony 49 And, lest we think that coal makes everybody poor, note that Pikeville, Kentucky, a town of fewer than 5,000 people in the heart of the coal fields, has 38 millionaires living within its limits. Other county-seat coal towns have their share of the wealthy also. The Cadillacs and Continentals and Imperials are common vehicles in the mountains—along with the pickups and the refugees from the junk piles that are the vehicles of the common folk. What has happened in this spiny backbone of Eastern America, that while everyone else has shared the wealth of production, mountain people have been exiles from the American dream? How is it possible that this rugged land and its people have been by-passed, even though they exist within 600 miles of the giant industrial complexes of the North and Mid-West and are so directly connected with their productive capacities? Reduced to Ruin Answer: Appalachia is a colony which America has exploited. It is used, stripped of her wealth, raped and reamed and reduced to ruin, while those who gain their wealth from her invest their profits elsewhere and live elsewhere. Let's look at some of the factors involved. First, Appalachia lost the resources which might have made her rich. Before the turn of the century, giant hardwoods up to six and eight feet in diameter covered the hillsides. Timber agents from the cities were sent to purchase this rich resource to feed the voracious maw of an expanding economy. At this time, when ours was generally a money economy, the Appalachian person still lived in a barter society. He grew what he needed; he made what he needed; he traded for what he needed. So, when timber agents came to buy the trees on his mountains, he was offered 25 to 50 cents a tree for them, trees which on the present market would be worth several thousands of dollars. Perhaps he had a whole mountain side of them—1,000 or more, worth $500 maybe—more money than he had ever seen at one time, and more than he thought he'd ever need. He sold the trees, even helped get them out and floated down the river. The wealth that might have served his own economy went �50 Colonialism in Modern America instead to make someone else rich. Many fortunes were made in timber in Appalachia, and several large foundations now spread their beneficence back to the region in small amounts for its impoverished people. Granted, our economy runs on the basis of getting the best bargain you can. The Appalachian man wanted a bargain, too, as did those who bought the timber. The advantage lay with the outsider. He alone knew what the trees were worth and what money was all about, while the mountain man often did not. The same thing happened with the coal. Five to seven mineable seams of coal underlie much of Central Appalachia. The mountain people who owned the land and minerals did not use the coal. They did not know how much was there or how to get it out. They did not know what it was worth. When coal and land agents came to buy the coal, offering fifty cents to five dollars an acre for it, again the mountain man, who was probably poor and hurting for some ready cash, quickly sold it. Besides, he was a farmer using the surface of the land for his living, and when he was assured that he could keep the surface, that all he was selling was something underneath, he made the bargain. Again, that which might have made the people in the mountains rich now belonged to someone else. He sold for no more than five dollars an acre coal which was really worth a thousand dollars or more! What is more, he also lost the control of those surface rights. For years he paid taxes on that land surface only to find that mineral rights take precedence over surface rights, and strip mining 70 years after the deed was signed proved this fact. He found, too, that oil and gas prospectors could rip up his land, or that pipes could be laid over it. Thus, the mountaineer lost control of all his property. Out-Of-State Control I have some figures for Kentucky. The great majority of Kentucky's coal, over one million acres of it, is owned by out-ofstate companies. These are land companies, oil, steel, railroads, gas producers, utilities and other corporate giants with stockholders and commitments all over the world—Kennecott Copper, National Steel, Bethlehem Steel, Occidental Petroleum, Con- �Appalachia: A merica rs Mineral Colony 51 tinental Oil, Norfolk and Western Railroad. The director of the Area Development District where I live (Hazard, Kentucky) has often told me that no development is possible for our area until the coal industry is willing to relinquish some of its rights and powers in land ownership and control. The coal companies and the industry, by its very nature, discouraged education of its people at the very time when across America the drive for universal education came into its own. So, when mines shut down and those men tried to find work elsewhere, no one would have them. Educational attainment levels among adults in Appalachia are four years below the national average—another toll exacted from Appalachians people. Harry Caudill, author of Night Comes to the Cumberland, tells of the annual contributions of the Penn-Virginia Coal Company to a Philadelphia art museum. Philadelphians no doubt pride themselves on having such a fine beneficent citizen-company in their midst. But why doesn't this company do something for the communities and people and area from which their wealth came? It was this company which, according again to Mr. Caudill, returned some 60 percent profit to its stockholders a few years ago. Come visit the community in Kentucky sometime which bears the name and stamp of this company, and see if you would like to live there! Mine Unsafely Beyond these brief remarks is the long, brutal tale of mine unsafety: the playing with death by companies anxious for coal, and the playing of politics with the federal laws and regulations and inspectors. Even the United Mine Workers union has its history of betrayal and promises broken. Coal is an industry with a black past, and everything it touches seems to be blackened. The third factor to consider is the neglect of government in Appalachia. It is almost as if this were a forgotten area of the states involved, or as if these people and this land and this society were of some lower form of life different from the rest and not deserving of the same level of services which the rest of the states get. It was not until the year 1956 that the state of Kentucky assumed responsibility for the education of her children in the �52 Colonialism in Modern America mountains. Previous to that time, churches and other outside groups provided the education for them. When I moved to east Kentucky in 1965, for nearly 700,000 people living in those mountains there was not a single psychiatrist, psychologist, or psychiatric social worker. It didn't mean that our people had no mental illness—only that they toughed it out. Nor was there any work with retarded children, youth or adults, in spite of the fact that our retardation rate is over double the national rate. Hospital beds were less available than elsewhere. There is one doctor across the nation for every 630 people. In the area of Hazard seven years ago, there was one doctor for every 10,000 people, and the administrator of the Appalachian Hospital called it a "medical disaster area." In terms of roads, again neglect. In this year, 1973, there is not yet one major modern highway across Southern Appalachia, while across the Rockies, which are real mountains in comparison, there are many. Little Federal Help Even the federal government shows a picture of neglect. Fewer dollars per capita flow into Appalachia for education, welfare, construction of public facilities, and recreation than into other areas across the nation. Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), the federal agency whose mandate it is to bring to life the valley of the Tennessee River, has for years felt that in doing so it had the right to destroy other valleys in Appalachia in order to get coal for cheap power to its people and industries. The worst offenders in eastern Kentucky in terms of the wholesale destruction of the land and people and streams have been the companies supplying TVA power plants, companies supposedly hewing to the line of their reclamation policies. Just last May, Senator Fred Harris came to visit eastern Kentucky strip mines, to meet with people, and to hold a hearing. One of the environment control and reclamation men from �Appalachia: America's Mineral Colony 53 TVA was there. He read a fine statement of how TVA had such high standards for land reclamation. Senator Harris exploded. "No man has the right to do to another man what I have seen today. But what is worse, I find that an agency of our own government is doing it," he said. Perhaps it is not right to say that government at all levels has also exploited the mountains and their people. But, it is right to say that government has allowed this exploitation, encouraged it, and approved it. And no agency of government has lifted its voice to change it. The record of the Corps of Engineers in the mountains is not bright in their dealings with people needing to be relocated because of dams. People have been offered a low sum for their property by the Corps and then told if they think it is not enough to take the matter to court. Most mountain families, too poor and inexperienced to hire a lawyer and go into courts, take the route of accepting the low offer. The fourth factor is the worst for us: The church has exploited, too. In Appalachia, as elsewhere in the world, the church has pretty much put its stamp of approval on the "status quo" of exploitation. At one of our Orientation Seminars for new pastors, Harry Caudill said: "You church people put schools all through this area. Rich folk in Pittsburgh and New York reached down in their pockets to make schools for our children, yet daily these children looked out their windows and saw the wealth which was leaving here in those coal cars, but nobody ever asked why. And out of those schools came some of the most reactionary and socially insensitive leaders we have in the mountains today." Harry Caudill is caustic sometimes. Maybe he was judging yesterday by today's sensitivities. But there is much truth to what he says. The church and its leaders have seldom been among those who have stood up to be counted against exploitation. The people in the church have not been the seers and the prophets, in spite of the Gospel in their hearts. A leader in a southeast Kentucky housing group told a group of Orientation pastors that she no longer attended church. She said: "If I could ever find a people there who cared as much for the people around them as they did for the Kings of Israel I might go back." �54 Colonialism in Modern America I don't want to overdraw this. There are churchmen in the mountains, lay and clergy, who are at the forefront of the struggle for justice in the hills, but mostly we are a pretty quiet and peaceable group who do not ripple the waters much. Jim Branscome a Berea college graduate, former director of "SOK," an anti-strip mine group, and now at Highlander Center, says that he feels one of the worst things about the Appalachian institutional church and its colleges is that they remove what anger there is in the souls of those they capture. "Our colleges and churches," he says, "are in the business to contribute to the preservation of society without opposing it, without training their people to place a question mark alongside everything that society does, thus blaspheming both education and Christ. They have contributed to one of the most fundamental dilemmas of modern civilization: It is without the preserving aspects of opposition." As the church, we must hear what this young man is saying to us. The charge that can be laid most at the door of the church is cultural imperialism. We have come into Appalachia and have tried to make its people into patterns made by the rest of the country. For example, the Presbyterians have a series of churches across the region with a Madison Avenue architect's idea of what a mountain church should look like—log cathedrals with stained glass and organs that match the culture about as well as evening dresses and high-heeled shoes. Rather than affirm the mountain person for what he was, we looked down at him and tried to make him something else closer to our own expectations for ourselves. On occasion I receive letters from people across the nation, asking if it isn't about time now to quit these many government programs with high expenditures in Appalachia. After all, we've done them long enough. Since the region does not seem to respond, let's spread our American charity somewhere else. Let's make it clear, however, that these federal dollars spent in Appalachia are not charity! They are justice—belated justice at that—giving back to this region a tiny portion of the wealth it has produced for our country. And, lest we think it to be such munificence (that word means just a whole lot), remember that �Appalachia: America s Mineral Colony 55 the expenditures of the Appalachian Regional Commission in the 13-state area which contains over 18 million people in the first 7 years of its existence have totalled less than we spent in Viet Nam in one month at the height of the war. The church must keep our nation's "feet to the fire" about Appalachia. Somehow we must cry aloud for justice, and do justice, and teach justice in our midst. Somehow we must help each other kick off the paternalism that so easily besets the church. Somehow we must do all we can to empower Appalachian people themselves, so they can have a piece of the decisions about their own destiny. There must be a new burst of energy by the church for the health of the Region. Jack Weller, author of Yesterday's People: Life in Contemporary Appalachia, is minister at large for the Presbyterian Church, Transylvania Presbytery. He lives in Hazard, Kentucky. �This page intentionally left blank �THE IMPACT OF RECREATIONAL DEVELOPMENT ON PIONEER LIFE STYLES IN SOUTHERN APPALACHIA by the pioneer as of it for to of a the the is life on is of of & or we is of the At the of by the in the it is life life first or we to the is has to the we are by the in a to the to to to of life as a on in the a is is an is of the the in Iff iwtf we for tbff the 23 at �58 Colonialism in Modern America tion that effective preservation of the Appalachian pioneer life style must demand a human continuance, a cultural transfer from parent to child, automatically excluding those who would become mountaineers by purchasing second homes or retirement homes within the Appalachian region. And though we applaud the efforts of those who would preserve Appalachia by making records of the ballads and the folklore, by creating craft centers for the teaching of spinning, weaving, needlecraft, and woodwork, we must distinguish clearly between cultural repositories and living cultures. Who the original pioneers were in the Southern Appalachian realm is not absolutely known, for ancient peoples had been in the area long before the Cherokees came. But the Cherokees likely pioneered in introducing a different and more advanced existence. They were probably the first farmers, though they were still highly dependent on hunting and gathering. A new pioneer element came in the form of the European hunter and trapper, closely followed by the permanent home-building, subsistence-seeking English farmers (along with some Scotch, Irish, French, and Germans), who with their more extensive clearing and cultivation of the land came in conflict with the land-use practices of the natives who were still highly dependent on hunting for their subsistence. There was much in the Appalachians to appeal to the European pioneers. Some alluvial bottomland was to be found in almost every valley, and the soils there were deep and fertile. The slopes were covered with some of the world's best hardwood forests which sheltered a variety of game and provided, in addition to the needed timber, supplies of fruits, nuts, berries, and medicinal herbs. Sparkling clear streams fed by an abundance of permanent springs provided excellent fishing. Small pockets of iron ore were widespread, along with constantly available wood for charcoal, and the multiplicity of forges and furnaces is reflected in names of communities throughout the region. (Graham's Forge and Laurel Bloomery are two nearby southwest Virginia examples.) And the almost complete isolation from the main paths of movement in the Mountain South demanded a high degree of self-reliance, whether in meeting economic needs or in maintaining effective social and political control. The European life style established in the latter part of the �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 59 18th century, like that of the Cherokee whom the Europeans replaced, represented a remarkably good adaptation to the natural environment in which they both lived. Though there were excesses in pioneer land use, such as clearing slopes of timber which was not effectively usable for agriculture or removing trees for fuel which would now be worth small fortunes as cabinet woods (they were weeds to them,for there was no existing market), there was established an essential ecological balance between man and the land which was maintained fairly effectively up until the early part of the present century. And though the population growth was constant, the high birth rates were largely offset by a high death rate and by an outmigration which has increased greatly in this century. Life in the Southern Appalachians remained so unchanged and unchanging up to the present century that Cecil Sharp, an English folklorist visiting the region in 1917, suggested that a fence should be built around the whole province to keep outside influences from altering the culture. Mr. Sharp's concern was timely, for already other pioneers were at work, and this work would alter the landscape in profound ways, undermining in the process the economic framework by which the mountain people lived. These were the corporate-based coal mining and lumbering operations which brought the first easy means of access to the region, the branch railroad lines, designed to remove the rich extractive products found in abundance. And while the overall impact of these operations has left and is leaving this land in a deplorable state, much has already been written about these developments; consequently, we wish to focus our attention on what is a more present danger to mountain life and culture, a danger which has the possibility of becoming even more totally destructive. The new pioneer in the mountains is the developer of tourist and recreational facilities, and of the more modern invaders, he appears to have the most disturbing influence on the traditional way of life. Like the exploiter of coal and timber, this multifaced monster is also corporate in nature with controlling interests based largely ouside the mountain. And like the earlier invaders, he paints a glowing picture of the economic progress he will bring to the areas affected. The unrevealed story is the fact that the long-range economic benefits (which may still be substantial) go to local business interests associated more or less directly with him. For the majority of the people the �60 Colonialism in Modern America economic impacts are more negative than positive. During the major building period construction jobs become available; but after facilities are completed, more or less permanent jobs (often seasonal) are available as clerks, waiters and waitresses, cooks, and maintenance personnel.1 Total employment by recreational developments is never large and wages are low, lower generally than in other economic activities, and lower here than in other parts of the country. Locals not associated with the developments often seek to improve their income by selling farm produce to slightly expanded local markets; and others may start turning out local craft items such as quilts, bedspreads, and a variety of toys and trinkets. The primary direct economic impact is and has been to introduce a job orientation no longer directly associated with the land and to shift the local economy farther away from the self-sustaining pattern of the past. This effect in itself is not bad except that it serves to undermine the spirit of independence so long characteristic of the mountain people and places them in a position of almost perpetual subordination to the outside dominated financial manipulators, more firmly cementing the status of inferiority imposed upon mountain people by the rest of the nation. The imposition of a more complete money economy with mass produced products available has led to the abandonment of many crafts and traditions followed in the past.2 The water-turned grist mills have all but disappeared, and local farmers no longer try to meet basic food needs from the farm. The wooden churn, a standard household item a generation ago (for then all farm households supplied their own butter), is an item of value now only in the antique shops. Most home orchards have been allowed to deteriorate or disappear, and even the family garden is often limited to the more basic items. The introduction of improved communications and effective advertising has created a town-centered social focus to replace farm or hamlet oriented activities of the earlier period. In the past each rural community regularly held barn dances, quilting bees, corn huskings, molasses makings, and numerous other activiteis which served as strong human-based social outlets. Now, the lure of the town with its theaters, sports activities, and overabundance of tourist traps draws locals as well as visitors into the city limits. To suggest that all of this was caused by the recreational developer would obviously be to stretch a point, but the leisure-time activities which are development centered have helped shift the interests of natives away from the home, farm, and local community. Locals who got together to �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 61 pitch horeshoes now spend their weekends around the town. Far more profound than the creation of alternative economic outlets for mountain people or Appalachian life styles has been the alteration of the human mix caused by recreation complex developers. Tourism of the earlier period in Appalachia generally demanded little land, most of which was in the towns or on the town margins. Those of the more recent period demand vast acreages, incorporating second home developments into new major recreational complexes with ski slopes, golf courses, fishing streams, swimming pools, hiking and saddle trails, and even such unmountaineer-like attractions as racquet clubs. Some examples of new North Carolina developments were reported in January, 1973, by the Asheville Citizen* Included were the "un-city" development of Connestee Falls (Realtec Incorporated) encompassing 3,900 acres, with sales to date of over 13 million dollars; Wolf Laurel, a 6,000-acre resort featuring a central core of authentic rebuilt native log cabins and including in addition to homes and homesites, a rustic inn, a golf course, an excellent restaurant, and ski slopes; and Arrowhead Hideaways on Flattop Mountain, a 1,000-acre development just begun in 1972. Research into the control of major tourist and recreational complex developments tells something about where the profits go. In the writer's home country of Watauga and Avery counties in North Carolina, the massive Beech Mountain and Land Harbor developments are controlled by the Carolina-Caribbean Corporation with home offices in Miami. Peter Barnes and Larry Casalino in a book entitled Who Owns the Land have found among the major developers the names of DuPont, Continental Oil, General Electric, IT&T, Standard Oil, Gulf Oil, CBS, Eastman Kodak, and Firestone.4 And the number of land purchases seems to be growing geometrically with each year. One corporation, the General Development Corporation, is reported to control more than 200,000 acres of land (slightly less than an average-sized Virginia county). And most disturbing to a native Appalachian is the fact that the area of most rapid takeover is the relatively unspoiled and most culturally distinctive parts of the mountain South. Purchasing operations are economic blitzkriegs. Buyers from these large corporations move into rural mountain areas and suddenly offer prices for land which unsuspecting natives find difficult to refuse. The prices offered �62 Colonialism in Modern America are in truth inflated in comparison to the value of the land in its traditional subsistence or semi-subsistence farm use (which, for most, form the base of their understanding of land values). Many sell; then they find that land values overall have gone up radically, so they either must give up their former way and become menials for the developer or, as is often the case, they leave the community altogether. Even those who are determined to retain their land find that its value has become so inflated that it is no longer practical to use it for farming, so either they become developers themselves or they sell to the developer.5 The effect on the human population over recent years has been to replace the natives with "new" mountaineers—mountaineers without a real attachment to the land whose demands or expectations have tended to be in conflict with rather than in harmony with the mountain habitat. Their automobiles, motorcycles, and the service vehicles required to meet their more elaborate demands clog the mountain roads and disturb the rural quiet with the roar of their engines. Their ski slopes have cut huge slashes in the natural cover of the most attractive mountains, and the most appealing trails and associated vistas suddenly become off-limits to the people who have always lived here. In fairness to the private recreation-residential developers, they see their role as that of making more effective use of land that had little economic value before, not realizing that through their massive developments they are working to destroy most of the characteristics of appeal in the mountain setting. Their cluttering of the landscape with broad highways, ski slopes, parking lots, shopping centers, right-of-ways for the likes of Tweetsie, and buildings ranging from Swiss chalets to pink fairy-tale castles, is making the physical landscape no longer alluring. Those elements of the mountain culture which provided the human appeal are often retained only as museum pieces in settlement schools or as show-place remnants such as in Cades Cove, Tennessee. And once gone, Appalachian culture cannot be recreated even by the most gargantuan human efforts. It might be noted that the federal and state governments have paralleled the private developer and often have cooperated with him in the onslaught against the mountain man and his culture. Cooperation between the Appalachian Regional Commission and the state of West Virginia removed several thousand acres of the most beautiful part of West Virginia from private control and created the multi-million dollar Pipestem recreation complex. The result �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 63 is a lodge and combination of tourist cabins which the average West Virginian, certainly one native to the Pipestem area, could not possibly afford to use; and moreover, according to Don West, a native of Pipestem, the concession to operate the complex did not remain in the hands of West Virginians but was given to a Chicago firm. In 1931, Margaret Hitch ("Life in a Blue Ridge Hollow") noted that the development of the Shenandoah National Park had resulted in a displacement (against their will) of the local people, forcing them to move elsewhere! She commented that 4 'within another decade a new era will have begun and the day of the Blue Ridge mountaineer will have passed."6 We might note that more than a decade has passed since her prophecy was made and the mountaineer is still around, but the forces which are seemingly seeking the eradication of him and his culture push relentlessly forward. The development of the Mt. Rogers National Recreational Area represents another giant stride toward that end. In addition to the hundreds of thousands of acres involved in the original purchase, it was recently announced that the Forest Service intends to purchase an additional 23,000 or so acres. In physical and human terms it means the removal from private hands of parts of three of the most attractive mountain valleys in southwest Virginia, converting them into a complex which would greatly exceed that of the Pipestem development noted above. And as in the case of Pipestem, no preference will be given to local or even Virginia concerns in the granting of concessions to operate within the area. In this case the government goes the private developer one better in that the land desired can be condemned at prices representing only a fraction of its worth for recreational purposes and even less than fair value in terms of present use.7 It is inappropriate to suggest that the land-purchasing agents for government-owned recreational developments are intentionally being unethical or dishonest. What does appear to be the case is that they are attempting to purchase land at what might have been a fair price at the time the original land purchases were made for the National Recreation Area several years ago. Prices of all Appalachian land have increased tremendously since that time, and if the land must be claimed, the price should reflect the going rate at the time it is sold. Perhaps more appropriately, �64 Colonialism in Modern America the seller should be paid enough to assure his acquiring of living conditions equal to those he is forced to give up. Unless this is assured, the Forest Service or those representing it are not dealing ethically or honestly with the people. One of the more compelling arguments which could be used by those who would develop Appalachia as a major recreational center for the nation is the concept that land should be used in such a way as to provide the maximum benefit for the greatest number of people for the longest period of time. And certainly the displacement of a few hundred people by the recently proposed Mt. Rogers acquisition or even the displacement of the few thousands (or perhaps ten thousands) by recreation complexes throughout the mountain South is much overshadowed by the growing millions who use the region for rest and relaxation. However, there are other principles involved which have been dear to the hearts of Americans from the beginning of the nation: the principles encompassing the rights of the individual to own land and to the pursuit of happiness. These individual rights are on trial now more than at any time in American history, and in reality it is not the question of the greatest benefit to the greatest number of people. For the recreational complexes that are now being created are luxury complexes which only a privileged few (the 15 to 20 percent who own the bulk of the nation's wealth) can really afford to enjoy. And if the individual rights of the masses continue to be violated for the benefit of these privileged few, then the whole principle of individual freedom is in question. With regard more specifically to the culture impacts of the recreational developments in Appalachia, the more profound tragedy is that the last and most appealing islands of pioneer Elizabethan culture in the world have become the victims of that most infectious of American diseases, so-called "progress." There are still others who would suggest that the recreation developers are in reality doing more to preserve pioneer life in Southern Appalachia than the natives themselves by taking land which is subject to overcrowding and poor use by the natives and putting it to more productive use. They point out that pioneer styles are preserved in the rustic external structure of the second homes or vacation cabins, in the replica rail fences and water wheels, and in the much promoted mountain music festivals. But �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 65 when one goes beneath the surface, the life style of the secondhome or summer-home owner is not a life style resembling in any way that of the mountaineer he replaces (notwithstanding the frequent exhortations of roadside advertisers for those passing through to become "mountaineers" by buying lots on English Mountain). His "cabin" with the rustic exterior of the earlier mountain home will be equipped with every appliance, including electric heat. And though he may wear the battered hat and overalls of the much caricatured mountain man, he would be hard pressed to hand tool a baby crib or cut his grass with a scythe. Nor would his wife be likely to know how to card or spin or hand weave a piece of cloth from the homespun. And philosophically the gap becomes broader, for generally the newcomer (outlander) is material oriented and accustomed to manipulating man and the land for profit; on the other hand, the mountain life style, though not shiftless as many would suggest, focuses primarily on meeting the basic human needs of food, clothing, and shelter. The new mountaineer must constantly be doing something, from moving the rocks in his rock garden to replacing the natural foliage with that of his choosing (often clashing horribly with the natural landscape), much to the amusement of the native who without benefit of training in meditation can spend hours on end in contemplative observation of the wonders of nature around him. It is probably true that most mountain people are fatalistic, particularly with regard to the natural events which affect their lives, and death is and has been viewed simply as a natural occurrence, even the death that he sees occurring around him. The Appalachian mountaineer is a product of a cultural heritage which is Elizabethan in origin but which has been modified by the human and physical environment in which he has lived for so long. This is reflected in his speech, his folklore, his ballads, his attitudes toward man and the land, and the harmonious relationship that exists between him and the natural setting he occupies. To assume that he could remain an unchanged element in the mountain setting with communicative inroads penetrating the region on all fronts is not realistic, and no one native to the mountains would want it to be that way. However, it is of major concern and within the realm of possibility that certain desirable Appalachian traits be retained by keeping those born Appalachian as the dominant element within the mountain �66 Colonialism in Modern America region. Also, by developing and encouraging among them (or us—for I am one of them) a pride in their heritage, something of their rich past may be retained or even strengthened. Though many assume, perhaps correctly, that it is too late to protect Appalachian culture from the devastation wrought by massive recreational developments, there is still some hope that at least important remnants of Appalachian culture may be preserved. However, the very nature of the native's personality seems to work against it. It would appear that effective local and regional land planning would be the best avenue, but the highly independent mountain people see this as a socialistic invasion of their individual rights, not recognizing that the basic purpose of planning and zoning would be to protect them against those who have exploited them in the past and will likely continue to do so in the future. From the perspective of the native looking at his native land, the following are offered as possible approaches to the problems we have noted. (1) More extensive wilderness areas should be set aside with the absolute exclusion of developmental enterprises while at the same time assuring those peoples living within such areas the right of continued occupation. (2) Regional and local planning agencies, in establishing zoning ordinances, should seek to assure that conditional use permits be required for all major recreational, commercial, and industrial developments. Public hearings for any such proposed development should be required. (Exclusion might include family or individually operated shops, service stations, home businesses, etc.) (3) Zoning regulations should be established which would require all developments to be cleared by a responsible environmental protection agency. This is particularly needed in all areas of massive minerals exploitation, massive industrial development, massive housing developments, and in many types of recreation developments (such as in areas where ski slopes are planned). (4) Zoning regulations should be established which would �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 67 protect good farmland against the economic developer seeking to follow the path of lowest cost. (5) Lot size limitations should be established in all areas being developed. This action would work against the messy clustering of business establishments in narrow valleys and along roads which can handle only limited traffic. (6) Rigid controls over size and placement of billboards, glaring roadside lights, and other manifold roadside promotion devices should be established. (7) There should be a reappraisal of priorities for land use in the entire Appalachian region, with serious consideration given to development of legal devices which would provide protection of the native population against the multiple onslaughts of corporate interests. First in order would be the provision of a publicly supported legal aid system to counter that which corporations are able to employ. Such a provision is desperately needed now by those whose property is being condemned by the Forest Service in the Mt. Rogers National Recreation Area, for they do not have financial resources to fight the actions in the courts. (8) There should be legal provisions against the replacement of scenic mountain roads with "drive through" super highways directed toward benefitting the outside visitor. (9) Broadly, a more conscious effort should be made to protect and preserve the rights of the individual against the desires of big business and big government whose primary aim with regard to the Appalachians appears to have been the making of its natural beauty and resources more effectively exploitable by interests which come from outside, and who, by comparison with the natives, can afford to pay well for services provided. �68 Colonialism in Modern America NOTES *At a recent hearing relative to acquisition of additional land for park development by the Forest Service, people in the Helton Creek area adjacent to the Mt. Rogers National Recreational Area asked an official what economic benefits would come to the local people by an expansion of the area. After pondering the question a moment he replied, "Well, the campers coming in are going to want quite a bit of wood for their campfires." ^There have been a number of efforts to revive the traditional crafts, but craftsmanship gained earlier by a youngster at the foot of a craftsman father cannot be regained just because a market develops. Crafts schools have been established, but these are seen regionally as museums of the past rather than as vocational institutions where young men and women can develop economically valuable skills. There are a few true craftsmen operating in the tradition of the past, but these make up a very insignificant part of the total Southern Appalachian population. ^ Nancy Brower, "Recreational, Residential Developments Had a Big Year," Asheville Citizen, January 28, 1973. ^Peter Barnes and Larry Casalino, Who Owns the Land? Center for Rural Studies, Berkeley, California, 1972. ^There are numerous examples of tourist-recreational-residential impacts. The writer's sister bought 100 acres of land overlooking Boone, N.C. in the 1950's for $7,000.00 and sold 80 acres of it three years later for $10,000.00. The DuPont Corporation which now controls the 80 acres is selling homesites for $5,000.00 and up. The 20 acres still in the former owner's control is now valued at more than $80,000.00. Alfred McNeill, who lives well outside the Boone-Blowing Rock focus of development, reported in the summer of 1973 that his rough mountain land had gone up in sale value from less than $100 an acre in 1960 to a present value of more than $1,000 an acre. Like many others he would prefer to continue to farm but now is beginning to wonder how long he can continue in the face �The Impact of Recreational Development On Pioneer Life Styles 69 of increasing land values and associated increases in taxes. "Margaret Hitch, "Life in a Blue Ridge Hollow," Journal of Geography, Vol. XXX, November 1931, 308-322. 'The largest number of people to be displaced will be in the Helton Creek area of Smyth County. The writer recently visited the community and talked with a number of the local residents whose land is being sought. Some have already sold at what would appear to be less than fair market value, and far less than what they will have to pay for comparable living situations, and certainly only a fraction of the real value of the land in the light of the recreational development now planned. Charles Blevins owns 8l/2 acres, much of it good bottom land, and has a good frame house on it along with a number of other outbuildings. The small farm provides essentially all his food needs and a head or two of cattle for sale. The price offered by the Forest Service was $7,300, which would appear to be about one-third replacement value, discounting, of course, the esthetic worth of the mountain setting. There is a fish pond on the place for which Mr. Blevins had recently been offered $12,000. Mr. Blevins also reported that he had sold one acre of hill land within the last year for $1,000. In talking with others in the valley it would appear that the going rate offered by the Mt. Rogers land appraisers is around $200 an acre. There are few acres anywhere within the developing Appalachians with land values less than $1,000 an acre. �This page intentionally left blank �1973 Sir of 56 Sir O, it is To it is a to it a /or Act II, As a are no of the as the The In the of the of Ltd., a is the for of the are are "strip the and deof the are to fif us it of a in of the in May 16, 1) on �72 Colonialism in Modern America The American Association, Ltd. controls about 65,000 acres—over one hundred square miles—of coal-rich land in the Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky and Tennessee. This region is famous for a sad paradox: human misery and abject poverty atop and amidst some of the world's most abundant mineral deposits. The explanation is regrettably simple. Appalachia is a colony. The people there do not own the wealth. Large outside corporations like the American Association do. And the prime, almost exclusive, concern of these corporations has been to exploit the region at the lowest possible cost to themselves. Most of your company's holdings—about 50,000 acres—lie in the isolated "Clear Fork Valley" in Claiborne, Campbell, and Bell counties. Clear Fork is one of the most populated remaining valleys in the coal areas of Central Appalachia, with about 500700 households in the communities of Fonde, Pruden, Hamblintown, Clairfield, Buffalo, and Straight Creek. Your company owns perhaps 85 percent of the valley there. In this remote valley, the American Association has displayed corporate profitseeking at its worst. It has permitted wanton and destructive "strip mining''—mining by blasting and scraping away the surface instead of tunneling into a coal deposit. Once-beautiful mountains are now scarred and gouged; foliage is razed; streams are clogged and filled with acid and filth; the inhabitants are endangered by landslides, floods, and polluted water. The difference between what strip mining is doing to the land in Appalachia and what B-52 bombers have done to the land in Southeast Asia is one of degree, not of kind. And while carting away over 2.2 million tons of coal per year, leaving the region that much poorer, and in ruin, the American Association and the companies to which it leases have virtually ignored the needs of the residents there. They have avoided their fair share of the local tax burden. They have presided over the destruction of job opportunities. They have even blocked the efforts of the local citizens to better their own lot. Idealism and good intentions—spiced, albeit, with a goodly dose of empire and profits—propelled your firm into Appalachia in the early 1890's. Backed by capital from Britain's Baring Brothers, the American Association founded a town called Middlesboro (after a British counterpart) in the state of Ken- �Ralph Nader Letter 13 tucky and set out to make it the booming iron and coal capital of the southern United States. The venture was to strike a bold new phase in British enterprise and in Anglo-American relations. "This is but a transfer of British business to American soil/' proclaimed American Association founder Alexander Arthur on November 11, 1890, to visiting dignitaries in the newly-resplendent Middlesboro Hall. He went on: I would say that America needs this place and our Anglo-American money, experience and push. Our mines, ovens, furnaces and works you have seen; these comprise our plant. We have also the sinews of body and of money and stand ready, clean-cut, and vigorous, for a generation of progress and success in manufacture, arts, and sciences. Come and join hands with us in the great enterprise which is worthy of the noblest efforts of us all, native or foreign born though we may be. [emphasis supplied] But misfortune, greed, and highly questionable dealings soon shipwrecked the hoped-for "noblest efforts." The financial panic of 1893 dried up the venture's British backing; Middlesboro was sold at auction, and 80,000 acres of mountain and valley land were mortgaged to the Central Trust Co. of New York for $1,500,000. Then a strange thing happened. The Central Trust filed to recover on the mortgage in 1894, and one J. H. Bartlett was appointed Special Commissioner to conduct the sale. Mr. Bartlett let the property go for but $25,000—about thirty cents per acre. The buyer was, of all people, an agent of the American Association, Ltd., a newly-formed corporation with essentially the same membership as the American Association, Inc. Shortly thereafter, Mr. J. H. Bartlett became General Manager of American Association, Inc. The American Association, Inc. said later that the land had been worth well over one-half million dollars at the time of the sale. This strange transaction did not go unnoticed. Creditors of the American Association, Ltd. sued the new American Association, Inc. in Claiborne County for "fraud/ 1 claiming it had "paid nothing for said property." But the records of this suit went up in flames with the Claiborne County Courthouse. And researchers could find no trace of the suit at the Bell County Courthouse. �74 Colonialism in Modern America The Association had acquired its Appalachian Coal empire through means its founder Mr. Arthur and you might not wish to label a "transfer of British business to American soil." Most records of the era are either missing or else were burned with the county courthouse. But the region is alive with tales of how American Association agents tricked, threatened, or forced uneducated mountain people into giving up their valuable coal land for fifty cents to a dollar an acre. Said one mountaineer recently: The American Association said the land was worthless and that they would give my daddy a dollar an acre and we could live on the land and pay rent and they would pay the taxes. We didn't know it but we were standing barely 4' from a seam of coal when the American Association was talking to us. Local residents say that when the property records burned with the Courthouse, the American Association used the chance to claim property that wasn't theirs. At first, self-interest bound the American Association, and the coal operators to which it leases, to a sort of uneasy truce with the people of the region. The companies needed men to dig the coal out of the large deep mines. So they had to provide these men and their families with a pkce to live and at least a minimal level of human services. Usually this level was indeed minimal. The miners and their families lived often in indecent conditions and worked in hazard-trap mines. And they were virtual serfs to the companies that employed them and owned everything around them^their home, their credit at the company store, health care and recreation in the company town, even "justice" at the company-controlled courthouse. In the 1930's your company, along with others, tried to keep these miners from joining a union that could stand up for their rights. Yet, despite all this, the need for able, willing bodies to mine the coal made the American Association and its cohorts show some concern for the region and its people. But the cord that had kept this uneasy truce together has broken. Mining coal no longer requires people. In fact, people just get in the way. Your company has expressed the desire to rid the area of residents. It will no longer repair homes, and it �Ralph Nader Letter 75 plans to tear them down in the near future. Yet there is little other housing or even property on which to build housing. Depopulation has replaced paternalism as official corporate policy. "The people would be better off, and we would be better off, if they would be off our land," said Mr. Alvaredo E, Funk, the American Association's General Manager in Middlesboro, Kentucky. It began in the 1950's, when a coal market slump forced many coal operators to close down. Medium-sized independent operators, like those that lease much American Association land, were especially affected. Employment in the region dropped sharply. In 1952 there were 1,230 coal mining jobs in Claiborne County; but in 1958 there were but 282. Your company made no effort to provide other sources of employment for the men thrown out of work. Since the 1950's, the market for coal has revived. More than revived. It is positively bullish. But bullish for the American Association and other coal owners and operators, not for the people of the region where you get the coal. Automation and strip mining have cut drastically the need for miners. At the single large deep mine left on your property, that of Consolidation Coal, 350 men with modern machinery turn out about as much coal as 1,500 men produced at nine mines in 1948. And men are even more dispensable in strip mining. In Claiborne County alone, 200 men can now blast and bulldoze out almost as much coal as 1,500 deep-miners could dig in 1948. Today with the need for local labor gone, a sort of undeclared warfare has broken loose. The companies to whom you lease are making an unchecked assault upon the land, and in consequence, on its people. Is it hyperbole to compare your company's presence in Appalachia to a war zone? Consider the evidence. 1. Environmental Destruction Irresponsible strip mining on your lands in Tennessee �76 Colonialism in Modern America harkens dismally of the laying-waste-to-the-land strategies of bygone generals. As you know, a strip miner literally blasts away the sides or top of a mountain. He then bulldozes the debris over the side, and shovels out the coal. The process is fast, cheap, and destructive in the extreme. Landslides block roads and railways, destroy homes and farmlands, and imperil human beings. The blasting alone has cracked the frames and foundations of homes. Streams, choked with silt and debris, flood at the slightest rainfall, leaving harmful deposits on scarce fertile soils. Acid ancj mineral substances pollute the water and endanger the area's water supply. "We are afraid to go to sleep when it rains. We just stay up all night," says one Tennessee resident whose property these floods have ruined. In the Clear Fork Valley, some people must boil their water and add chlorine to it to make it safe to drink. And the Campbell County Highway Department has had to spend thousands of dollars clearing a single road after continual landslides. Is this the experience of people in peace or in war? Your company, the American Association, currently hosts more strip mining operations than does any other landowner in Tennessee. On your Claiborne County property alone, strippers laid waste to about 3,000 acres before the State passed a law in 1967 requiring that the land be restored. Since then, 1,400 more acres on your land have been stripped, and the reclamation is questionable at best, despite the new law. 2. Tax Evasion While their mineral wealth is literally carted out from under them, the people of this region pay, in measurable and immeasurable ways, for this destruction. State and local governments have to clear the roads after landslides and both roads and bridges after illegally overweight coal trucks have beaten them apart. The people pay for this through taxes and through their own efforts to undo the damage to their homes and property. Yet not only do they get little or nothing, not even jobs, in return, but your company also avoids its duty to pay taxes to meet the costs of local government. �Ralph Nader Letter 77 In the United States, local governments depend mainly on property taxes. Especially in Appalachia, where coal is the major form of property wealth, owners like the American Association are expected to pay their share. But it hasn't worked out that way in Claiborne County. Your 44,000 coal-laden acres there represent 17 percent of the county's land area and perhaps 90 percent of the county's coal reserves. Yet in 1970 your property taxes provided only 3 percent of the county's property tax revenue. That year your company claimed to the State Board of Equalization—the board of appeals—that 40,000 acres of its coal-rich land were worth but five dollars per acre. Yet in that one year alone you garnered more in royalty payments from the mining companies to which you lease. Complaints by local citizens led the Tennessee Board of Equalization to require that coal properties be assessed more accurately. But the figures your General Manager Mr. Funk then supplied the state were dubious at best. Local citizens charged that Mr. Funk's suspicious figures gave your company an almost one million dollar underassessment. The State Board seems to have borne out these claims when it tripled values Mr. Funk reported for properties now leased to Consolidation Coal. Still, the strip mines on your land are greatly underassessed and undertaxed. Two companies mining your land under lease appear to have escaped taxation altogether, while others seem to have kept all their mining equipment off the tax rolls. As late as 1972 your coal-rich Claiborne County lands that were not being mined were still assessed at only $25 an acre, less than the least expensive farm land in the county. 3. Housing As the major employer in the Clear Fork Valley, and as owner of most of the land, the American Association once provided most of the housing as well. But now that it no longer needs the people, it seeks to get rid of them. It is your company's declared policy to tear down its houses in the valley and not to build new ones. The houses your company still rents, it won't repair. Nor will it compensate tenants who make their own repairs. And the leases it grants are usually for only thirty days, if it grants a lease at all. And the tenant may be evicted �78 Colonialism in Modern America without cause or reason. "I've seen barns in better shape. . . .Why, I've worked farms where people wouldn't keep their animals in barns the shape of these houses," one tenant said recently. Meanwhile, strip mining destroys those homes and the land on which they rest. Residents count forty-two houses that have been stripped away in the small Rock Creek Hollow alone. And your company has turned its back on both the immediate distress and the long-run needs of people whose homes are thus destroyed. In 1955 on American Association property, water broke through an old "slag" pile, surged down and destroyed the community of Valley Creek. Two children were killed. Your company offered meager compensation. Just last year your company did not take preventive action when a landslide from a strip mine on your land threatened homes and lives in the community of Buffalo Hollow until local citizens hired an attorney and Granada Television filmed the slide for broadcast in Britain. Even the belated efforts you have taken—which have had little success—are of small comfort to people who have had to evacuate homes on your property before the invading army of bulldozing strip miners. Or to residents such as Lewis Lowe, who now faces perennial flooding along Clear Fork Creek. Or to the people endangered or blocked in by the landslides on such places as Duff Road. Your manager, Mr. Funk, stated in "The Stripping of Appalachia," a Granada television documentary: "We're ploughing back our share into the development of Appalachia." Ploughing, indeed, there is aplenty. But apparently the only "development" is on a minor part of your holdings in Cumberland Gap across the giant Cumberland Mountain from Clear Fork Valley. Here one finds a new Holiday Inn for tourists, and here a marina and golf course are planned, as your May 19, 1971, Statement to Shareholders puts it "to attract the wealthier citizens of Pineville and Middlesboro." What of the less wealthy residents of your 50,000 or more acres in the isolated Clear Fork Valley? They could move elsewhere, one might reply. After all, your Statement to Shareholders the following year applauds your contribution to the local housing supply. "We have continued," �Ralph Nader Letter 79 it says, "our policy of building houses on plots of land owned by us. . . ." But these too are across the Cumberland Mountains. In the isolated valley, housing is scarce because your company owns most of the land and is tearing down its houses. There are very few "ekewheres" for people who wish to remain on the land where they and their parents were raised. And jobs and living conditions in the distant cities are very uncertain. 4. Preventing Local Self-Help To keep the area under tight control, the American Association has blocked the efforts of local citizens to help themselves, to provide for their own jobs and housing. These people have formed a community development organization, the Model Valley Development Council, to better the lot of the valley and its residents. Several years ago, when the Council approached your company to buy land for a small factory, your company would consent to sell or lease only a single small tract. It was covered with slag and refuse from an old mine, and the Association would let it go only if the local people themselves cleaned up the shameful mess. In 1972 the American Association refused to sell or lease land for the people to build homes. Last autumn, American Association General Manager Funk would not consider making just one-half acre available for the community to build a health clinic. Since then (and after wide showing of the Granada T.V. documentary) Mr. Funk has suggested you might lease—but not sell—some land. But the people are still waiting. Meanwhile your company won't even let them cut trees for wood to repair their homes. The mere control of so much of this area's land and wealth sets your company athwart any growth or local self help there. The county government is reluctant to provide services like sewers and roads because the population is sparse—sparse largely because of American Association policy. Lack of these services in turn keeps new builders away. And potential industries shun the almost total dependence on your company that setting up in the region would involve. Your company won't help these people. And it won't let them help themselves. �80 Colonialism in Modern America The American Association's seventy-year occupation of this forgotten portion of Tennessee has resulted, then, in what? Surveys in the valley have shown unemployment at about 30 percent. About 20 percent of the households live on less than $1,000 per year; another 20 percent make less than $2,000. ($9,400 per year was the average family income in this country in 1969.) Homes are being destroyed and land and water are being ruined. Prospects for employment are grim. Prospects generally are grim, with your company looking ahead to 25-30 more years of strip mining and then timber cutting after that. Does this picture suggest the presence of a responsible citizen or of a greedy aggressor? And what will the picture be in twenty-five more years?—not in the small portion of your land north of Cumberland Mountain where you are building playspots for the rich, but in the depressed Clear Creek Valley where most of your holdings lie? The bloom indeed has faded from the hopes your countrymen held for the American Association venture in Kentucky and Tennessee. How different the response of two English people viewing the enterprise at the outset and now. Visiting the area of 1891, Sir James Kitson, then-President of the British Iron and Steel Institute, could boast: I think we all, as Englishmen, rejoiced to see a town which was being developed with so much sagacity, so much judgment and energy; that was being developed under English auspices and with British capital. Eighty years later your countrymen were holding their heads a bit lower. After watching the Granada television documentary on your holdings in Clear Fork Valley, a Middlesex, England, woman felt impelled to write a small local Tennessee newspaper: I write to tell you how ashamed I am that an English-owned company can so indiscriminately cause so much havoc to a small community. . . .My feelings after watching a recent television programme on the subject were ones of total horror. You must realize that I am an English woman of absolutely no importance, but nevertheless, would like �Ralph Nader Letter 81 to use the good offices of your newspaper to apologize for the desecration caused by an English company, on land in a country that has always had very close ties with my own. . . . It is true that the American Association is just one small part of your nearly L220m ($500,000,000) secrecy-enshrouded corporate empire, of which Investor's Chronicle magazine said: "What is quite unknown is how the empire is controlled, how the various companies relate to each other." This empire spans from Australia and Thailand to Canada and the West Indies and includes pursuits so diverse as racetracks, rubber plantations, and equipment for hairdressing salons. But the policies of the American Association spell the fate of the people and culture of the Clear Fork Valley. And they are now causing embarrassment to people of your own country. You have shown charitable instincts in many ways. You have served as officer or director of six hospitals. In 1953 you were on the Executive Council of the Lord Mayor's National Flood and Tempest Distress Fund. Until 1948 you were VicePresident of the League of Mercy. Now you can apply this same sense of responsibility to the corporate realm. What can you do? Such steps as the following, which you could set in motion at once, could begin to change your company from a hostile aggressor to a more responsible constructive citizen. 1. First, and most important, you should personally visit the region, for at least several days, to see firsthand what your company's policies have done. You should meet with local residents to hear their views and to discuss your company's past actions and plans for the future. 2. Your company should inventory and begin to correct the damage strip mining on its land has done. Especially urgent is the need to correct damage to homes, farms, roads, and water supplies. �82 Colonialism in Modern America 3. You should require all companies to whom the American Association leases to restore carefully and completely the property on which they mine and to repair any damage they do to the people or the region. 4. You should also require these companies to cooperate fully with tax officials and to provide them with the information necessary to set fair and equitable property tax assessments. Such information should include lease agreements, royalty rates, and survey and estimates of coal reserves. 5. As a symbol of your desire to compensate the people of the region for the valuable land your agents tricked or threatened their forebears into selling, you should donate some of your 50,000-odd acres for community development. 6. You should keep in good repair the housing you rent to local people. And you should extend to them fair and adequate lease protection. 7. You should stop refusing to sell land to local groups seeking to build industry or housing. 8. You should instruct your General Manager, Mr. Alverado E. Funk, to negotiate with local citizen groups a fair and equitable compensation for all the property taxes which the American Association has avoided in the past. 9. You should, in the future, consult with these citizen groups about changes in your company's policies in the area. Such steps will help get your company out of its social red ink in Appalachia. But what of the many other companies you control? Are they too laying waste forgotten corners of the world? There is a larger lesson to be learned from your destructive Appalachian venture. It is simply to apply to social problems on the corporate level the old adage "To foresee is to forestall." It would be a signal act of corporate foresight and responsibility for you to set up now a special committee to monitor the social impact of all the businesses you control. This committee should comprise both people from within your enterprises and repre- �Ralph Nader Letter 83 sentatives of outside groups who speak for important social concerns. It should have the full authority of your office and should report directly to you. "Come and join hands with us in the great enterprise which is worthy of the noblest efforts of us all" proclaimed the sanguine founder of the American Association, Alexander Arthur. While the standard since then has fallen miserably, it is not too late to hoist it up again. In fact, the decline, like adversity, could be sweet. It could occasion an ascent to a truly higher standard of corporate action and accountability. Will you exert your "noblest efforts" to that end? Or will your neglect be the occasion of a mobilized citizenry recovering their future through resurgent legal and political action? Sincerely, Ralph Nader �This page intentionally left blank �THE FOREST SERVICE AND APPALACHIA by SI has of has Is an by In the on the of oil, to and the a hut the the of of of the in (TV A) a In or of are the U.S. of the /I Georgia Kentucky North Carolina North Carolina 1,153 962 706 Nantahala 753 (c) % SI ff n» last in has «»rf the in �Colonialism in Modern America 86 State National Forest Acreage Square Miles Tennessee Virginia Virginia West Virginia Cherokee * 614,107 George Washington * * 1,003,874 J ef ferson * * * 621,473 Monongahela 831,329 960 1,615 971 1,299 TOTALS 8,419 5,388,598 This is an area larger than the states of Connecticut, Delaware, and Rhode Island combined! On the local level, the amount of national forest land in many counties in the Southern mountains is staggering. Within the Appalachian areas of West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, Kentucky, North Carolina, and Georgia, there are 37 counties in which the Forest Service owns over 20 percent of the land. In 14 of these counties, more than 40 percent of the land is in national forests: State County Acreage Georgia Georgia Georgia Georgia Kentucky North Carolina North Carolina North Carolina Tennessee Tennessee Virginia Virginia Virginia West Virginia Rabun Fannin Union Towns McCreary Macon Graham Clay Polk Unicoi Bath Craig Allegheny Pocahontas 235,520 262,160 197,760 106,240 267,520 330,880 184,960 136,320 278,400 118,400 345,600 215,040 285,440 603,520 NF Acreage 143,580 106,602 95,593 56,559 154,288 149,369 111,065 59,975 150,870 52,049 171,996 115,051 138,070 285,474 % NF 61% 42% 48% 54% 58% 45% 60% 44% 54% 44% 50% 54% 48% 47% From the point of view of the U.S. Forest Service, its concentration of land ownership in the Southern Appalachians is *Includes 327 acres in North Carolina. """Includes 100,386 acres in West Virginia. ** "Includes 961 acres in Kentucky and 18,245 in West Virginia. �The Forest Service and Appalachia 87 highly desirable; it is, in fact, something it has been working toward for a long time. Its basic strategy in the Southern mountains is set out in its official publication, Guide for Managing the National Forests in the Appalachians. The guide states in part: The concept of the Appalachian Greenbelt is possible because of the unique physiographic characteristics of the area. It is a mountainous green oasis in the Eastern United States from which flows a continuous supply of renewable resources and which provides the large surrounding population with a place to recreate in a natural setting. . . .Summer mountain temperatures are generally 10° lower than the adjacent plains. This factor makes the mountains a highly desirable retreat for city dwellers and other nearby residents. * As this statement makes clear, the national forests are seen by the Forest Service as a resource to be used primarily by the "large surrounding population" of "city dwellers and nearby residents." This includes, of course, the urban population of the Eastern Seaboard. No one can argue that residents of the Eastern cities probably need to "recreate in a natural setting" from time to time. But it is also necessary to remember that there are some 10 million people living in the so-called "Appalachian Greenbelt!" What about us? Well, we're pretty much out of luck, according to the Guide for Managing the National Forests in the Appalachians: Population losses within the Greenbelt can be attributed to the fact that this area can only sustain a limited number of people year-round. Many of the narrow mountain valleys are unsuitable for industrial complexes. Plans for economic development must recognize the limitations of the area so that over-emphasis on the wrong type of activities does not occur. The Forest Service is obviously not looking after anyone's interest except its own here. To write off industrial development for Appalachia because of its "narrow mountain valleys" is like saying that Pittsburgh can't support industry because of its many residential neighborhoods. In fact, Appalachia is for many reasons—raw material, electric power, access to population centers, �88 Colonialism in Modern America transportation, labor force—well suited for industrial growth. By ignoring the facts, the Forest Service is actively undermining the efforts of the ten million people who live in the mountains for economic, political and social self-development. But the Forest Service is not reacting to the needs of Appalachian people in its planning for Appalachia. As the Guide for Managing the National Forests in the Appalachians makes clear, it is motivated by a very different perspective: Pressures on the forest resources and environment within this mountain region come from many users. As long as population growth continues, pressure for products and services from the National Forest lands will grow. Unless definite limits are set for the protection of the environment and use of the resources within the Greenbelt, population pressure will bring about their impairment and eventual destruction. . . .This influence area for the Greenbelt stretches far outside National Forest boundaries. Total planning must consider the overall emphasis area. The problem with this comment is that the population pressure the Forest Service is talking about comes from outside the mountains. After all, population is not growing in Appalachia; the mountains have been losing folks steadily for years. This attitude makes as much sense (especially since the Forest Service is actively encouraging people to use the national forests) as saying that an Indian reservation is threatened by overcrowding because large numbers of tourists want to visit and camp there. The emphasis of the Forest Service on the needs of people outside the Southern mountains has, on occasion, been the root of conflict with local Appalachians. One incident is worth noting as an example of the extremes these conflicts sometimes reach. As reported by the Atlanta Constitution: Vernon McCall was "the weakest one in the community" of Balsam Grove, a village in the heart of Pisgah National Forest. Vernon, according to Mrs. Leonard Griffin, "is a sick boy. He has epilepsy and he's disabled." On February 22, men of the U.S. Forest Service broke �The Forest Service and Appalachia 89 into Vernon's trailer house, dragged out a bed and a few other belongings, and then dug a hole with a bulldozer, rammed his home, his lean-to, his pig pen and his little barn into it and buried the whole thing. Having erased every trace of his home, they planted pine seedlings over it. ... The Forest Service claimed the government owned the land, not Vernon, and they had been trying to get him off it since 1968. But the community lawyer said no legal action had been taken to evict Vernon, and local authorities proceeded to charge Forest Ranger Dan W. Hile with willful injury to personal property. . . . Meantime Vernon, who is 40, has rented a new trailer, and scratches out a living on welfare and what he can make picking and selling ivy. And the seedlings the Forest Service planted over his old trailer have died. What makes all of this so intolerable is that the people of Appalachia are the ones who actually pay for these national forests. Anyone who knows the area is familiar with the irony of high taxes on the one hand and low public services on the other—a situation common to many Southern mountain counties. It has often been noted that in the coal counties this is partly the result of the undertaxation of coal lands. What has not been recognized is that in counties with national forest lands the tax-exempt status of these lands has undermined the tax base and increased the tax burden on local property owners. The following report examines the effects which the national forests in Appalachia have had on the ability of mountain counties to govern and finance themselves. Federal Lands and County Finances One of the direct and measurable effects of national forest holdings in Appalachia is the loss of local property tax revenue. At the end of 1972, Forest Service holdings totaled 5,388,598 acres in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and West Virginia. Being Federal property, these lands are exempt from state, county, and city/town taxes. While it is difficult to estimate the exact extent of the tax loss, it is probable �90 Colonialism in Modern America that, based on average values for land and effective tax rates in the counties involved, the Appalachian national forests cost local governments nearly $10 million a year in lost tax revenuesrevenues that would go to support schools, roads, health programs, welfare, and other public services. This tax loss has not often been recognized—partly because the Forest Service in its intensive public relations campaigns emphasizes the financial gain to counties from national forest lands. This type of publicity never mentions the fact that these lands are tax exempt; or that they had previously been on county tax digests; or the amount of revenue lost to counties when the lands passed from private to Federal ownership. But the fact is that in 1972 the total Forest Service payments to Appalachian counties were only $734,641.08—less than 14 cents an acre and well under 10 percent of what the property taxes alone would have been if the land were still in private hands. The small sums that are paid by the Forest Service to local counties come from its so-called "25% Fund," authorized by the 1911 Weeks Act. This act, in effect, authorized the national forest system by providing for the Federal government to purchase lands necessary to protect the flow of navigable streams, including their watersheds. The 13th Section of the Weeks Act (36 Stat. 961-963) provides: Twenty-five per centum of all moneys received during any fiscal year from each national forest into which lands acquired under this Act may be divided shall be paid, at the end of such year, by the Secretary of the Treasury to the State in which such national forest is situated, to be expended as the State legislature may prescribe for the benefit of the public schools and public roads of the counties in which such national forest is situated.^ The income from national forests comes mostly from the sale of timber "on the stump," although a certain amount also comes from other fees and from special permits such as those for mining and recreational areas. Unlike the national forests of the Western United States, which produce valuable old-growth sawtimber, the Appalachian national forests have in the past produced trees suitable only for pulpwood. As any mountain landowner will tell you, selling pulpwood on the stump is no way to �The Forest Service and Appalachia 91 bring in money. If cut selectively, mountain land will make five to ten cords of pulpwood per acre; if clearcut, it will make ten to twenty cords. The going price for Forest Service pulpwood on the stump in Appalachia is about $2.00 a cord. Selectively cut land can be logged again in about ten years; clearcut land, in about thirty. Thus, on an average yearly basis, the "income" from an acre of national forest land in the Southern mountains is between 66 cents and $2.00. Aside from the low revenue which this gives to counties, the problem with this system is that it makes "25% Fund" payments—on which counties must depend to help finance roads and schools—completely dependent on an arbitrary factor: how much wood the forest service decides to cut that year. This produces a not-so-subtle pressure on local government to approve the high rates of timber-cutting the forest service would like to set and locally-hated practices such as clearcutting. For example, during the recent struggle over proposed Forest Service clearcutting in the Cohutta Mountains in Fannin County, Georgia —one of the proposed areas in the Eastern Omnibus Wilderness Bill—petitions were circulated which read: We cannot afford the loss of revenues that are presently being returned to our county governments by the Forest Service from timber sales. We do not wish to retire our forests from production when we know that the local people will have to pick up the additional tax load; neither do we want the added tax to discourage local population growth, because this is already a problem for our rural areas." In fact, since timber-cutting revenues in any national forest are lumped together each year before distributing to counties, Fannin County would have received 14.4 percent (its proportionate share of Chattahoochee national forest acreage) of 25 percent (the Weeks Act formula) of whatever income clearcutting the Cohuttas produced—3.6 cents of every dollar of timber cut! Because the "25% Fund" payments are based on revenue from timber cutting, payments per acre vary widely from state to state and even among national forests within the same state. In Georgia, the Chattahoochee National Forest, which is located within the Appalachian area of the state, made payments to �92 Colonialism in Modern America counties of 26.7 cents per acre in 1972. Counties in Georgia's Ocoee National Forest, however, which lies in the state's pulpwood belt, were paid $1.39 per acre—more than five times what the Appalachian counties received. Payments vary even more widely from state to state. In 1972, average payments were 41 cents in Georgia (this includes the high payment received for the Ocoee National Forest); 21 cents in North Carolina; 17 cents in Kentucky; 15 cents in Tennessee; 5 cents in Virginia; and 11 cents in West Virginia. By comparison, the average payment per acre was $1.03 in California; $2.16 in Louisiana; $1.40 in Mississippi, $2.12 in Oregon; $1.01 in South Carolina; $1.23 in Texas; and $0.95 in Washington. The average payment per acre for all national forests in all states was 58 cents. The average payment per acre for all Appalachian national forests was 13.5 cents, less than one fourth the national average! Two other ways of looking at this situation help make clear just how discriminatory it is: (1) If counties in Appalachia had received "25% Fund" payments at the national average rate of 58 cents/acre, they would have received $3,125,868 instead of $734,641. (2) If all the revenue produced by the National Forests was divided among counties on the basis of their proportionate share of National Forest acreage, the Appalachian counties would have received $12,503,472 in 1972—seventeen times what they actually got. Another way of trying to evaluate the fairness or unfairness as well of the constitutionality of the way in which national forest revenue is distributed is to look at it in terms of payment per person to affected counties. After all, "25% Fund" payments were earmarked by the Weeks Act for support of roads and schools, the two items which usually make up the bulk of a rural county's budget. Since the national forest funds are Federal payments, it stands to reason that they should be distributed on an equitable basis. In the 37 Appalachian counties which have 20 percent or �The Forest Service and Appalachia 93 more of their area in national forests, payments per person in 1972 ranged from a low of 9 cents per person (Smyth County, Virginia) to a high of $5.01 per person (Rabun County, Georgia). The average figure was 93 cents per person. Compare this with payments per person made in Western counties with similar populations. These figures ranged from a low of $101.14 per person (Curry County, Oregon) to a high of $437.53 per person (Skamonia County, Washington). It doesn't take much imagination to see what Federal subsidies of this size could mean to education in revenue-starved Appalachian counties. A further problem caused by the fact that national forest payments depend on timber-cutting revenue is that counties are not able to predict the amount of revenue they will receive in any year. For example, in 1969, during the period of greatest clear-cutting in the Monongahela National Forest, counties received 25.9 cents. In Pocahontas County, West Virginia, this meant that income from national forests in the county dropped from $73,050 in 1969 to $33,931 in 1972, a loss of $39,119. For a county with a population of 8,640, this is a tremendous revenue loss. As rates per acre dropped between 1969 and 1972, other counties experienced similar losses. Throughout the Appalachian region, despite the fact that national forest acreage increased 3 percent in the three years from 1969 to 1972, the amount received from the Forest Service decreased $159,070. Of all regions in the country, Appalachia is one of those which can least afford this type of revenue loss. The loss of this amount of revenue may not seem significant to some people who are used to urban budgets. But it is important to realize that—partly because of the lack of growth due to lack of land—the Appalachian counties in which the national forests are concentrated are among the smallest and poorest counties in the nation. According to 1970 census data, the average population of the fourteen Appalachian counties with over 40 percent national forest land is less than 9,000. Their average rate of poverty in 1970 was 29.2 percent—more than twice the average for the United States as a whole. Not one of these counties had a poverty rate less than the national average. In the thirty years prior to 1970, these counties combined lost 13.2 percent of their population, and only one of the fourteen gained population in this period. �94 Colonialism in Modern America These counties are affected not only by revenue loss, lack of public services, high poverty incidence and outmigration rates, but—to add insult to injury—by local property taxes that are significantly higher than those in counties without national forest lands. Looking again at the fourteen counties with over 40 percent of their land held by the Forest Service, the effective tax rate* for these counties is on the average 15 percent higher than the average effective tax rate for the state.** This situation is especially apparent in Tennessee and Georgia. Polk County, Tennessee, for example, with 54 percent of its land held by the Forest Service, has an effective tax rate of $1.38 per $100 compared to a state average rate of $0.90. Of 75 Tennessee counties with single tax rates, Polk County has the fifth highest rate. In Georgia, Fannin County, which is 42 percent national forest land, has the highest tax rate of all counties in the state—higher than the non-municipal rates of Fulton (Atlanta), Muscogee (Columbus), Bibb (Macon), Richmond (Augusta), or Chatham (Savannah) counties. This situation has not gone unnoticed politically. The Commissioner of Roads and Revenues of Fannin County has made a summary statement of local attitudes toward the problem: Fannin County does realize a good many benefits in ways that encourage people to live here, but must also tolerate some serious circumstances. . . .The U.S. Forest Service now owns some 106,000 acres of land within Fannin County and this deprives the county of approximately $150,000 per year in tax revenue. A large portion of this land has progressively been acquired from private land owners who had formerly been paying taxes. This process has resulted in a steady undermining of our tax base. This example, combined with the tax rate we pay in Fannin County, creates a constant hardship on a lot of * "Effective tax rate" figures combine millage rates with assessment rates to reach a figure which can be compared with others on a tax rate per $100 of true property value basis. **In fact, the actual tax rates for these counties exceed comparable rates for rural counties by more than 15 percent, since the state figures include urban and metropolitan counties. �The Forest Service and Appalachia 95 our people who still own a fair amount of taxable property. Every time a piece of property falls into the hands of the Forest Service, the tax revenue formerly received from it is gone for good, and the remaining property owners must share this loss in revenue. . . .They purchase private land as it becomes available with our Federal tax money, and use it, in fact, to undermine the local tax sources where our local revenue must come from to support our local government. . . . We can no longer ignore the seriousness of these problems. There must be some compatible adjustment when land is acquired and results in a revenue loss.^ Responding editorially to the above remarks, one of the local newspapers, The Blue Ridge Summit-Post, wrote: The increase in taxes will no doubt place a great deal of strain on the working man's pocketbook. . . .Our tax rate in the past has been in no way below average standards, yet we, as a county, have profited little from the revenue obtained from it. We see as one of the reasons for our county's tax problem that great land speculator and wild real estate dealer, The Forest Service. We feel that the state and Federal governments should find a means of returning some of the revenue on this untaxed land to the county, where it belongs. Federal preservation of forest land is a good thing; we believe in some land control; but taxes are taxes, and Fannin County is having to strain the wrong pay check. Our residents work hard for their living, and carrying the load for the Forest Service is not helping the situation. We suggest some type of revenue return to the county on the part of its greatest landholder, The Forest Service.8 The Politics of National Forests The U.S. Forest Service itself has at different times taken different positions on the effect its policies have on local counties. Its usual position is that the "25% Fund" payments are a tremendous benefit to local governments. Their public relations �96 Colonialism in Modern America campaign to convince local, state, and national political figures has been so effective that a preliminary draft of The Last Stand: The Nader Study Group Report on the Forest Service stated: They [local residents] also receive generous public service benefits from National Forest timber cutting. To compensate counties containing National Forest land for their small amount of taxable property, the federal government pays them 25 percent of the receipts from National Forest timber sales within their bounds to support construction of public schools and roads.^ To term the token payments which the Forest Service makes to local counties "generous public service benefits" is, to say the least, not particularly accurate (the statement has been deleted from the final report); but the example does show the tremendous extent to which Forest Service public relations has been effective. At other times, the Forest Service has downplayed the "25% Fund" and emphasized other benefits from National Forests. One Forest Service spokesperson has stated: Without any doubt, the many other contributions to the economic development of the Appalachian Region made by the National Forests far outweigh the 25% return to the counties. It is not practical to place a monetary value on many of these contributions. I refer to such things as: -Recreation use plus hunting and fishing. . . .In a National Survey of Fishing and Hunting by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in 1965, they placed an economic value on a fishing man-day of $5.60 and a hunting man-day of $6.03. It would be higher today. So, you can see that this item alone would exceed the value of the 25% fund which is used only on schools and roads in the counties having National Forest lands. --Watershed protection benefitting local areas as well as down stream flood protection. -Employment of people maintaining and administering National Forests plus those employed to harvest timber which we have grown, etc. -Construction and maintenance of roads and �The Forest Service and Appalachia 97 bridges which would otherwise have to be maintained by the counties or state. ® The inaccuracies in this statement are highly misleading. The "economic value" of fishing and hunting involves money spent at local stores which is useful, but not to be confused with county income from taxes which is spent on education, health, and welfare. Clear cutting on national forest lands has destroyed many watersheds and increased hazards of flooding. Forest service employees are paid out of money appropriated from the Federal budget, which comes from taxes paid by local residents. No one is "employed" by the Forest Service to harvest timber; the wood is sold on the stump to woodcutters and timber companies. Most of the timber on national forest lands was not "grown" by the Forest Service; it was there when the land was acquired from private landowners. Few of the clearcut areas in the Appalachians have even been reforested. Nationally, the Forest Service is 733,000 acres behind on reforesting clearcut lands.11 As for road maintenance, this year alone the Forest Service closed 60 miles of roads in the Chattahoochee National Forest out of a total of 1,392. And the damage done to county and state roads by overloaded trucks carrying timber from the national forests is a direct cost to local government and a hazard and inconvenience to local residents. The fact is that other benefits do not "outweigh the 25% return to the counties"; they do not begin to compensate for the loss of tax revenue. In fact, the Public Land Law Review Commission in its 1970 report to the President and Congress concluded: While benefits are national, the geographical distribution of the Federal lands makes their burdens regional and local, and, in general, Federal ownership of public lands provides no distinguishable benefits to state and local governments in lieu of the benefits they would receive if the lands were privately owned. The Forest Service has also argued on occasion that one third of the United States is owned by the Federal government and that it would be impossible to make payments for all these lands. But there is a difference between many of the western national forests which have always been public lands and the �98 Colonialism in Modern America national forests in Appalachia, which have been bought up since the passage of the Weeks Act in 1911. Before 1911, none of the land now in the Appalachian national forests was owned by the Federal government; all of it was owned privately and was subject to local property taxes. The acquisition over the past 62 years of so much Appalachian land by the Forest Service has meant an increasing destruction of local tax digests, especially in those 37 Appalachian counties where between 20 percent and 61 percent of the land has passed into Federal hands. It is clear that the national forests are not contributing nearly as much as the Forest Service claims to the economic growth of the counties where they are located. The evidence suggests that the opposite is true. The loss of tax revenue has produced a scarcity of public services, including education and health care. The control of so much land by the government has artificially driven prices up for mountain land. Because of the demands for summer homes, recreational development, and land speculation, farming is no longer economically possible in many places. These conditions have helped encourage many young people to leave the area and have prevented many who have left from coming back. Whatever benefits the Appalachian national forests provide to the nation as a whole, for the residents of mountain counties they mean higher taxes and decreased public services. In effect, the people of Appalachia are being taxed to provide recreation and relaxation for people from other wealthier areas. No one can deny that there is a national need for recreation; but that does not make it right that mountain people should have their taxes raised and their public services cut back so that well-to-do tourists can enjoy themselves at no cost. There are several Federal precedents which strongly suggest that the Forest Service's way of doing business in Appalachia is neither desirable nor necessary. A startling comparison comes when we contrast payments made to counties by the Forest Service with those made by the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA). In 1972, for example, TVA paid $252,766 to Polk County, Tennessee, in lieu of taxes on the 3,418 acres it owns in the county—$66.05 an acre. The Forest Service paid the county $22,612 for 150,870 acres-15 cents an acre. To put it a little differently, the Forest Service owns 44 times as much land in Polk County as TVA; but TVA paid the county 11 times as much! �The Forest Service and Appalachia 99 TVA's responsibility to counties where it has operations, however, is very different from the Forest Service. The Tennessee Valley Authority Act provides: TVA's payments to the respective states shall not be less than the higher of (1) the average of state, county, municipal and district property tax levied by them on purchased power property and on the portion of TVA land allocated for power use for the last two years such properly was in private ownership or (2) $10,000. TVA pays directly to counties amounts equivalent to the former county and district taxes derived from power properties purchased as such by TVA and from reservoir lands allocable to power. . . .These direct payments to counties fully replace tax losses which result from the transfer of such properties to public ownership [ed. emphasis] .1* The TVA Act is not the only Federal precedent for the principle of full income replacement to counties. Public Law 81-874, commonly known as the "impacted areas" program, provides under Section 2, "Reduction in Local Revenue by Reason of Acquisition of Real Property by the United States": A school district may be eligible if (1) the property was acquired by transfer and not by exchange since 1938; (2) the assessed valuation of such property represents 10% or more of the assessed valuation of all realty in the district at time or times of transfer; and (3) the acquisition has imposed on the school district a substantial and continuing financial burden. Maximum entitlement is the product of the applicant's current expense tax rate applied to the estimated assessed valuation of the Federal property (exclusive of improvements since transfer date).14 In fiscal 1969, a total of 106 school districts in the United States received Federal tax replacement payments under this provision. The total paid to these districts was over $3Vz million. It is obvious that it is way past time for the U.S. Government and the Forest Service to begin full compensation to Appalachian counties for tax losses caused by national forest holdings and perhaps to compensate these counties for their �100 Colonialism in Modern America losses in past years as well. This has been recognized by two recent studies. The Last Stand: The Nader Study Group Report on the U.S. Forest Service states as one of its final recommendations: To reduce local pressure on the Forest Service and members of Congress to increase National Forest timber cutting, Congress should abolish the practice of returning 25 percent of timber sales receipts to the counties in which the timber is cut. It should replace these payments with the more equitable and dependable federal aid to impacted areas (now granted to states containing nontaxable Defense Department property) to all counties embracing National Forest land, regardless of the amount of timber cutting.* ^ A much stronger statement has been made by the Public Land Law Review Commission. In its official report, One Third of the Nation's Land, the Commission states: The legislative history of the acts providing for the sharing of receipts from forest products and oil and gas, as well as other leasable minerals, clearly reflects that the payments to the states and local governments were intended as compensation for the fact that the lands in question would no longer be available for private ownership and property taxation. . . .Since the ad valorem tax system has been the foundation for the financing of programs providing municipal services, the Commission believes that all landowners must share in payment for these services. This should not exclude the Federal government as landowner, except where the federally owned land is being used for facilities, such as in the case of post offices, to furnish services to all the people throughout the country . . . .If the national interest dictates that lands should be retained in Federal ownership, it is the obligation of the United States to make certain that the burden of that policy is spread among all the people of the United States and is not borne only by those states and governments in whose area the land is located. Therefore, the Federal Government should make payments to compensate state and local governments for the tax immunity of Federal lands. . . .We find further that any attempt to tie �The Forest Service and Appalachia 101 payments to states and local governments to receipts generated from the sale or use of public lands or their resources causes an undue emphasis to be given in program planning to the receipts that may be generated. " There are a number of other Forest Service practices which often conflict with local needs. One is the charging of fees to use recreational areas in the national forests. These fees range from $1.00 to $3.00 a day, or $10.00 for a "Golden Eagle" passport which allows entry to certain areas for a year. These fees may seem reasonable to tourists, but they are out of reach for most poor families. As a result, local residents are often not able to afford recreational facilities built by the Forest Service in their own counties. One North Georgia mountaineer, commenting on the Forest Service's plan to build campsites in the Cohutta Wildlife Refuge, one of the few wilderness areas left in the Eastern United States, said: There's a lot of old mountain people beside me who aren't going to take kindly to the idea of getting a permit to go onto land they call home.*' Many Southern mountain residents are also concerned by the rate at which the Forest Service is still acquiring land. A recent example of this process occurred in 1971 in Bland County, Virginia, in the Jefferson National Forest. One Virginia resident and forestry student who has been in close touch with the situation wrote: Consolidation Coal Company owned 46,000 acres of land in the county, containing relatively small amounts of semi-anthracite coal. Consol sold the land (finding the coal too poor to be profitably mined), amounting to one fifth of the county, to the U.S. Forest Service, which has incorporated it into the Jefferson National Forest. Combined with the county land already controlled by the Forest Service, it will put nearly a quarter of the county's real estate under government ownership. Large opposition to the land sale was expressed by Bland County residents. By the government owning one-quarter of the county, local revenues will be severely hurt. When Consolidation Coal owned the land last year, the com- �102 Colonialism in Modern America pany, a subsidiary of Continental Oil, paid just 14 cents an acre in taxes, amounting to a total of $6,800. The Forest Service pays no taxes, but will pay a small compensation of $3,600—or just eight cents an acre. The $3,200 loss, opponents say, could destroy the Bland County budget, which has had severe fiscal problems for some time. Most of the biggest supporters of the land sale were nonresidents and outside agencies, including various sportsmen^ clubs. The Bland County Board of Supervisors voted against the land deal twice last year. But a new Board of Supervisors has now voted in favor of the sale, yielding to the heavy pressure by outside groups. So now the land is destined for tourist and recreational development by the Forest Service. Just how this will benefit the residencts of Bland County, only time will tell.18 Appalachian working people are also critical of the ways in which timber sales are conducted. These sales are carried out by sealed bid. However, the Forest Service requires the posting of a cash "bid bond" with each bid. On a recent sale in which the minimum bid permitted was $2,297, the required bid bond was $300, a hard amount for self-employed woodcutters to come by. "Performance bonds," sometimes in the total amount of the contract price, are also required. These rules have the effect of making it extremely difficult for the small independent woodcutter to bid successfully on Forest Service timber. The contracts thus go more often than not to the large timber corporations. Of the Forest Service practices, none is more deeply resented than their use of condemnation proceedings to acquire homes and farms for national forests. Because of past abuses of its condemnation powers, the Forest Service's power to condemn land for National Forests was removed by Congress in 1964. This power is retained, however, in the case of national recreation areas. The pending Eastern Omnibus Wilderness Act (S.316) would restore condemnation powers to the Forest Service in the proposed Eastern Wilderness areas. One develop- �The Forest Service and Appalachia 103 ing national recreation area is located in the Jefferson National Forest in Southwest Virginia. One organizer who has been working with local residents to save their homes and farms from condemnation has written: The Mt, Rogers National Recreation Area, as defined by Congress in 1966, covers 154,000 acres in five counties of southwest Virginia. These counties are: Washington, Smyth, Gray son, Carroll and Wythe. The National Recreation Area (the Forest Service's equivalent to a National Park) is to be developed to accommodate, by present plans, an estimated five million tourists a year by 1990. To do this, the Forest Service has begun acquiring lands for campgrounds, livery stables, lakes, ski slopes and other recreation facilities. Some of the land has been openly bought from residents who, according to the Forest Service, are "willing sellers.'* While the Forest Service claims that condemnation proceedings are necessary to acquire land efficiently, many residents resent this practice and point out abuses of it. The central issue, as many local residents see it, is not simply whether or not there should be a National Recreation Area, but rather the fact that the people are having no say in the plans and developments of their communities and homes. ^ This lack of local input into Forest Service planning is a complaint heard frequently in Appalachian counties where the national forests are found. Traditionally, the Forest Service has carried out its plans without consulting local government or citizens. Lately, in response to public pressure from many sources, it has taken to holding 'listening posts" at which local residents are asked to present their opinions. These ' 'listening posts," however, have generally been held after the Forest Service had already prepared written plans of action for the areas in question. There is also evidence that the hearings are not taken into serious consideration. At a recent hearing in North Georgia, over 90 percent of the witnesses spoke against Forest Service proposals. These proposals would have included clear-cutting vast areas of the Cohutta Wildlife Refuge, despite the fact that this �104 Colonialism in Modern America area has been proposed as a Wilderness Area in the Eastern Omnibus Wilderness Bill. Yet, when a transcript of the hearing was requested, the Forest Service replied that it did not plan to transcribe the tape they had made of the hearing. It is difficult to see how a hearing could be a legitimate part of a public planning process when the only record of it is a tape recording in a Forest Service office. This type of practice led one county official to react in a letter to the Forest Service: After attending your meeting at Etowah on the Hiwassee Unit, I came away with the feeling that the Forest Service has already drawn up a tentative plan. If this is the case, I think in the interest of saving time and effort, the Forest Service should present their plan and then have hearings before it is adopted. . . .The U.S. Forest Service [has] never attempted to work with local government on future plans for U.S. Forest Service lands within their political subdivision. Conclusions It is evident that Appalachian people are bearing an unfair share of the cost of maintaining a national forest system and are getting very few of the benefits. If the national forests in the Southern mountains are to benefit Appalachians as well as other Americans, some changes in Forest Service policy must be made. The following are recommendations which, based on the facts set out in this study, are necessary to achieve this goal. (1) The Forest Service should make payments in lieu of taxes to all counties in Appalachia (and elsewhere) where national forest lands are located. These payments should be equal to the amount of ad valorem tax these lands would produce if privately owned. (2) Until such a system is adopted, all income from the national forests should be redistributed to the counties in which these lands are located in proportion to the share which each county has of the national total. Such a system would provide each county in Appalachia with national forests approximately sixteen times its current payment. It would also remedy the gross inequalities in distribution of national forest revenues �The Forest Service and Appalachia 105 which now exist among different national forests and states. The present system is a gross violation of the equal protection provisions of the U.S. Constitution and should definitely be challenged in the courts. (3) To avoid destruction of county economic bases, a limit should be set on the amount of land the Forest Service is permitted to own in any given county. (4) Admission to Forest Service recreational areas should be free to residents of counties where these areas are located. (5) The Forest Service should be required to hold public hearings before closing any national forest roads and to show cause before taking action. Procedures should be established through which local citizens, without undue difficulty or expense, can stop such proposed Forest Service actions where they are definitely not in the interest of the local community. (6) Any Forest Service plans for land acquisition, recreational development, road construction, logging, subcontracting, mining, land swaps, special use permits, and other uses of the national forests should be subject to the prior approval of an elected county committee. (7) The Forest Service should be absolutely prohibited from using condemnation proceedings to acquire any owneroccupied farms or homes in national forests, wilderness areas or national recreation areas. Where such lands have been acquired by condemnation, they should be returned without cost to the previous owners. (8) Timber tracts should be bid off in small enough lots so that small independent woodcutters can compete. Bid bonds should be abolished and a different system established to guarantee performance that would not discriminate against individual woodcutters. It should be required that 50 percent of all national forest timber be sold to independent woodcutters, cooperatives, or small wood companies which are located in the county where the boundary of timber is located. This will help reduce abuse of the current bid system by the giant timber corporations. �106 Colonialism in Modern America (9) Where the process of removing national forest timber damages county or state roads, the Forest Service should be required to pay for their maintenance and repair. (10) Clearcutting, a process which destroys timber, land and water resources, should be totally prohibited on national forest lands. (11) County and town governments should have the right to acquire national forest lands through eminent domain proceedings to build public facilities such as schools and hospitals. The situation as it now exists in the Southern mountains violates the letter, and certainly the spirit, of equal protection laws. It is grossly unfair that the financial burden of providing recreation for the Eastern United States should fall so heavily on some of the poorest citizens in the country, yet this is exactly what is happening. It is ridiculous to spend millions for campsites in communities which lack funds for schools, hospitals, health care, transportation, water systems, sewage disposal, and housing; yet this is what is happening. A number of Appalachian writers have suggested that the Federal government sees Appalachia mainly as a support area for the Eastern Seaboard, providing coal, minerals, electricity, timber and recreation to people outside the mountains. It is possible that in the minds of some economic and political planners, such as the Forest Service officials who wrote the Guide for Managing the National Forests in the Appalachians, the Southern mountains exist in the future as one vast Federal holding to be harvested by the coal corporations, the energy conglomerates, the timber and tourist industries. Mountain people are living on top of some of the greatest natural resources in the United States. History teaches that when poor and working people stand in the way of harvesting such resources, they and their interests will usually be moved aside. On the other hand, the national forest lands in Appalachia could become a real resource to mountain people by providing jobs, land for public facilities, and the revenue for badly needed service programs. Even more, these lands, which have been taken from Appalachian people, could some day be returned to them to live and work on: lands which their grandparents �The Forest Service and Appalachia 107 settled and cleared and which their children are being forced to leave. �108 Colonialism in Modern America NOTES *Guide for Managing the National Forests in the Appalachians, pages 7, 33. 2 Guide, page 8. $ Guide, pages 7, 8. ^The Atlanta Constitution, May 12, 1971. *The Principal Laws Relating to the Establishment of the National Forests and to Other Forest Service Activities, page 45. "Undated petition beginning "We, the undersigned are against S.316, H.R. 1758, Wilderness Study Act H.R. 2420 and such Eastern Wilderness bills. . . .," author's possession. 7 Blue Ridge Summit-Post, Blue Ridge, Georgia, October 11, 1972. 8 Ibid. ^The Last Stand: Service, pages V-l 3. The Nader Study Group Report on the Forest * ^Letter from W. W. Huber, Chief, Division of Information and Education, Southeast Region, U.S. Forest Service, dated January 18, 1971. ll The Last Stand, pages III-9. Third of the Nation's Land: A Report to the President and to The Congress by the Public Land Law Review Commission, page 238. 13 "TVA Power: Payments in Lieu of Taxes," TVA Information Office, Knoxville, Tennessee, November, 1972. �The Forest Service and Appalachia 109 14 "Administration of Public Laws 81-874 and 81-815: Nineteenth Annual Report of the Commissioner of Education," Office of Education, U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, Washington, D.C., June 30, 1969. 15 The Last Stand, pages VI-37. 16 One Third of the Nation's Land, pages 4, 236, 238. l^U.S. Forest Service "Listening Post" on Cohutta Mountains Unit, Chatsworth, Georgia, August 1, 1972. 18 Letter from Dave Tice dated January 22, 1973. 1 ^Letter from Dave Tice dated February, 1973. 2®The McCaysville Citizen, McCaysville, Georgia, September 23, 1971. ����Ill 111: The five the the and set up son and the in the In the of Sue the life the and the and and it in the of to the velopers in by Theft" He the the the of and the the use of the of in "The at of be- the of in "The Big of the the of to in "Property, powerlessness. the cure to the of of control. in the by He to to to se- Rag" by de- by in to the of for the the life in in and to for the to the the to ��IN or AT BIG MY by or and has of or Dix is an in "the unIn reof it—"neo-colonialism," to the to nt tbe to at the A Asso is a of on Reis A at in an tbe is a in in tbe a of tbe at is fit St. �114 Colonialism in Modern America the two most resistant aspects of traditional mountain culture, the family structure and religion, to see in what ways they resisted or adapted to the process or how they were used as instruments of colonial domination. Central Appalachia—which is made up of eastern Kentucky, southern West Virginia, southwestern Virginia and northeast Tennessee—was the most isolated part of the Southern mountains. Except for a few outposts, the area was not settled until after the Revolutionary War. Mrs. John C. Campbell describes the area and its early settlement and characterizes the people living in the mountains as descendants of colonial English, Scotch-Irish, and German stock, "the advance guard of the great migration to the west who were seeking land, liberty, game." Many settled and remained in the area from the pure chance of a ''broken axle" but more stayed from choice. The population spread back up among creek and branch, wherever a little bottom land was to be found, fresh game or new springs of clear water. Traditions brought from lands across the sea blended with customs and prejudices bred by the frontier existence and were maintained during a relatively long period of isolation following the original settlement. (Campbell 1925, 9-13) Whether mountain culture should be properly described as a culture transmitted unchanged from the founders or an adaptive culture which developed in response to the isolated mountain conditions, descriptions do convince us that there was in the area at that time a society and culture different from the mainstream American way of life and certainly different from that of the outsiders who came into the mountains with industrialization. Since the outsider noted peculiarities, emphasized differences, and described the oddities, it is very hard to find reliable and clear descriptions of early family structure or religion in the mountains. Raines (1924,X) in his book The Land of Saddlebags states that uwhile the rest of the nation has grown far from our revolutionary ancestors, the Mountain People have been marooned on an island of mountains, and have remained very much the same as they were at that time." �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 115 A sociologist visiting the hills of Kentucky in 1898 (Vincent 1898) describes a society based upon hunting and subsistence agriculture and a social organization based upon kinship. There were isolated mountain families living up coves and hollows with strong ties of kinship built upon three or more generations of intermarriage. Brown (1952) describes the traditional mountain family structure as a ' 'family group/' conjugal families living in family kin groups which formed small neighborhoods. The kin relations were extensive and complex, and neighborhoods acted as mutual aid societies. The groups were isolated, stable, self-sustaining, localized groups. Although the family was described as strongly patriarchal with a highly differentiated division of labor between men and women, there were many family cooperative activities in work, recreation, and visiting. Men and women had to substitute for each other; and both needed to be strong, resourceful, and selfsufficient. Women's work was an integral part of the total operation, and although her work was hard, it was also hard for everyone in the family. There was an equalitarian simplicity in the terms used by husband and wife: "the woman" and "the man"; or "my woman" and "my man." It was a life which stressed both independence and cooperation. The family and also the individuals had to be self-sufficient and independent and must not depend on others for help; one must be prepared to manage somehow by himself, but when he could, he helped. To be a good neighbor on a friendly, equal basis, "accommodating," was very important. Visitors to the mountain home frequently remarked on the lavish hospitality, generosity, uncompetitiveness, openness, directness, and simplicity of the mountain people. They were described as free from self-consciousness, dignified, quiet, reticent, and courteous. The early church was characterized by writers as separatist, immersionist, hardshell, strongly Calvinistic, anti-missionary; the people were literal interpreters of the Bible, rejecting infant baptism and placing emphasis on experience. Vincent found theological discussions popular in the family,and he felt these satisfied the appetite for metaphysics and offered opportunity for intellectual exercise and discipline (1898, 18). The church or meeting house served as a gathering place; �116 Colonialism in Modern America the monthly or less frequent meetings were an opportunity for sociability and a time to hear a preacher and have funerals preached. It served more as an occasional gathering place than an ongoing organization, although in the ' 'settlements" the church served through monthly business meetings the function of a civil court, sanctioning the behavior of the members and disciplining those who fought with neighbors, abused their brothers, used rough language, or retailed ardent spirits (Henson 1972). There was little church machinery; and the mountain values of simplicity, equalitarianism, and democracy were reflected in the ceremonies of footwashing and laying on of hands. The insistence on untrained ministers who were given special authority only through the spirit also reflected an antielitest bias in mountain society. Services were informal, congregations could sing down the preacher, people could wander in and out of services, but every preacher was given a chance to preach. Rhythm and eloquence and emotional ecstasy were admired and encouraged in the preacher. This emotional extravagance has been thought by some to be contradictory to the portrait of the stolid, impassive, dignified mountain man; but perhaps this unselfconscious ability to display emotion was in keeping with an unsophisticated, straightforward approach to life. Mrs. Condon (1962, 88) reports that the Presbyterian church grew slowly in Harlan County because people thought the members were distant, cool, and unfriendly. Though the area experienced gradual alterations between its settlement and the turn of the century, the biggest changes for the area came about 1890 as a result of the railroad, lumbering and coal mining, and the missionaries. Mrs. Campbell writes that at the turn of the century "suddenly the retarded frontier was rediscovered by two classes: those who saw the natural resources and sought them regardless of the interests of the natural owners; and those who with missionary zeal rushed in to educate and reform" (1925, 9). Mrs. Campbell, herself one of the missionaries, points to the "natural" alliance of exploiters and missionaries who came together to the hills. John Fox, Jr., a writer of romantic novels and a member of a coal-developing family which came into the mountains at the turn of the century, supports this natural alliance: The railroad comes first as an element of civiliza- �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 117 tion, but unless the church and the school in the ratio of several schools to each church quickly follow, the railroad does the mountaineer little else than great harm. Even with the aid of these three, the standards of conduct of the outer world are reared slowly. A painful process of evolution has been the history of every little mountaintown that survived the remarkable mushroom growth which, within the year of 1889-90, ran from Pennsylvania to Alabama along both bases of the Cumberland. (1901, 209-10) The process of colonization as it occurred in the Central Appalachians generally followed these stages: 1. Gaining entry: invasion and securing of the area or resources 2. Establishment of control: removal of opposition and resistance to prevent expulsion of invaders 3. Education and conversion of the natives: change the values and social system of the colonized 4. Maintenance of control: tion political and social domina- THE FIRST STAGE: Gaining Entry The invasion was well planned and well executed almost before the natives knew what had happened. A well-trained force of lawyers, surveyors, geologists, and land buyers came into the mountains and millions of acres of mineral and virgin timber lands passed into the hands of development companies at from 30 cents to one dollar an acre. Even Franklin Delano Roosevelt, just out of Harvard, abstracted titles and surveys in Harlan County for his uncle, Warren Delano (Condon 1962). Vanderbilts, Fishes, and other big financiers from the Northeast visited the mountains to help secure mineral rights and building rights and make arrangements for the railroads. Thomas Nelson Page of Richmond, Virginia, in a speech to the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1910 urging them to give money for missionaries in the mountains, describes the coming of the �118 Colonialism in Modern America exploiters: When the outer world has reached them, it has mainly been to trade upon their ignorance and rob them of what should have been their wealth. There are lands which were bought of them for a few dollas an acre, which are bonded now as many thousands, and the justification for such legalized robbery at the hands of predatory wealth is that which is as old as Cyrus—that is was of more use to the taker than to the lawful holder. It is small wonder that they are suspicious as to the advances of civilization where the advance couriers are the land agent and the coal prospector—little wonder that, when evictors come under color of ancient patents to drive them from the lands which their fathers have held for generations, they should break out in feuds and violences. (66-67) In the early days there were few to criticize the methods. In 1924 Raines describes the situation as follows: The mountain people are suffering from the ruthless exploitation of large financial interests. These foreign juggernauts may have secured their coal and timber lands for a song, but taking money from those that have no special use for it is not a fatal damage. The deadly sin is the thrusting of a ferocious and devouring social system upon an unprepared and defenseless people. (236) Others interpreted the invasion as something akin to manifest destiny: "It is a region of vast resources that has been blocked out of the wild by a great people and held in trust, as it were, for the modern capitalist to develop and utilize. Its people are beginning to see the dawn of a new day" (MLW, 1-1-1925, 2-3). In the process of entry, both the missionaries and the industrialists were amazed by what they found. They sought to understand and to categorize the mountain people and culture. Letters were sent home, reports were sent to church boards, and newspaper articles were written about the development. Picturesque stories appeared in magazines. Some were horrified at the illiteracy, the lack of schools and medical facilities, and the �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 119 limited diet; they were appalled by the lack of roads, the isolation, the lack of conveniences, and the hard life of the women; they were intrigued by the songs, beautiful weaving, quaint language, marriage and funeral customs, and unorganized church meetings; they were admiring of their courage, honesty, directness, and lack of sophistication. But always the mountain people were compared with "back home": the educated and professional middle-class, the urban homes and situations from which they came. The biography of one of the early missionaries, Rev. Murdoch of Buckhorn, relates his first trip home after seeing the mountains (May 1946): His heart and mind bursting with things to tell his Brooklyn friends. They were jotted down on a folded piece of paper. A kind of vivid moving picture of the crowded months since he left them. There was the mother who watched over her son to keep him from using profanity while shoeing his horse; children chewing tobacco, other children going barefooted in the snow; the rich veins of coal laid bare along the creeks, destitute families in rickety cabins, burial without ministers, whole districts without schools, the silent forest at the head of Squabble Creek, the flowers and birds along the trails, the character sketches of some of the people he had met in his travels. Such terms as arrested development, retarded frontier, remnant, a distinct relic, a peculiar people, survivals, ancestors, backward, and limited outlook were commonly used. Mrs. Campbell writes that a conventional world was charmed with its picturesqueness and startled by its illiteracy and disregard for law. "It could not understand how people could at once be a feudist and man of integrity and responsibility in his neighborhood. How they could be illiterate, yet have a real and deep culture. Personal experiences led to undiscriminating generalizations on the 'finest of Anglo-Saxon blood' and the 'off-shoots of degenerate refugees and criminals/ No people have ever played more completely the mixed role of villain and neglected hero in the public eye" (1925). John Fox, Jr. played a large part in stereotyping the moun- �120 Colonialism in Modern America tain culture for the outside world and justifying the imposition of power and control over a native people. He, like most of the newcomers, was both admiring and denigrating. He describes the Southern mountaineer as truthful, honest, courageous, hospitable, peaceable, and a man of law—yet known for his moonshining, his land-thieving, and his feuds. But he goes on to blame the Civil War, the revenue service, and the "system of land laws that sometimes makes it necessary for the mountaineer of Kentucky and Virginia to practically steal his own home" for making the mountaineer a "criminal" (1901, 209). The invasion brought in the outsider and opened up the mountain culture to view, and the mountaineer became aware of himself as different. He began to compare himself with the newcomer and learned to judge himself as inferior. Jean Ritchie (1955) describes the development of the schools and its effect on her family: The settlement schools and the railroad began to bring the ways of the world to us in a kind of steady trickle. . . .The settlement schools [brought] in levelcountry people who settled among us and whose ways of doing things, whose very speech and actions, helped us to see that there was a different kind of life than the hard one we knew. (pp. 225ff.) An editorial in Mountain Life and Work (April 1925) criticizes "unauthorized characterization by professional writers and unscientific reformers which built up among the mountaineers what the psychologists call an inferiority complex. It has found expression in the humble submission to outside invasion and in the eager acceptance of small favors and paltry benevolences." ESTABLISHMENT OF CONTROL John Fox describes, either naively or arrogantly, the process whereby the newcomer gained control and subdued the native population. In an article entitled "Civilizing the Cumberland" (1901,209ff.), he describes how in Big Stone Gap, Virginia, the "sternest ideals of good order and law were set up and maintained with Winchester, pistol, policeman's billy, and whistle through a unique experiment in civilization." A volunteer police �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 121 guard, a private army, manned by the young newcomers, was organized. Fox describes it as a police force of gentlemen: "aristocrats and pultocrats," American and British, lawyers, bankers, real-estate brokers, newspaper men, civil and mining engineers, geologists, speculators and several men of leisure. All were college graduates (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, University of Virginia) "who had come into the mountains of Virginia to make their fortunes from iron, coal and law." They were first organized to put down a strike of mountain workers at a newly established brick plant in the Gap. Fox then relates that they became precision troops who guarded jails against mobs, cracked toughs over the head with billies, lugged them to the calaboose, and appeared as witnesses against them in court the next morning. They turned a mountain crossroads town where mountain boys frolicked and fought into a quiet, respectable outpost of high society. Since the developers wrote most of the history, there are few accounts of native opposition in the record. John Fox does mention that there was considerable hostility and dislike for the newcomers, and he mentions that fighting clans tried to make the "furriners" leave the county. He says that the strike of mountain workers became a confrontation between the newcomers and the mountaineers, and the opposition of the local people was readily discouraged by the newly formed guard. He relates how the newcomers were harassed, the guard mocked by the mountain "toughs," and the townspeople frightened and inconvenienced by the "wild jayhawkers from old Kanetuck" who were accustomed to coming to the Gap to sow wild oats and fight with the boys from Wise and Lee counties. He also reports that with the organization of the guard and the establishment of town ordinances which outlawed drinking, shooting, and yelling, all this was changed and mountain people were practically prevented from entering town (except as "meek sheep"). "It arrayed the town people against the country folk. . . but with each element of disorder there was a climax of incidents that established the recognized authority of the guard." The hanging of a local bad man, Talton Hall, became a ceremonial display of power, thereby showing the legal conquest of the mountains through a confrontation with and defeat of the family-clan system. "Never had a criminal met death at the hands of the law in that region." The badman was a Kentucky �122 Colonialism in Modern America feudsman and his clan was there to rescue him from the gallows. The guard won, and Fox points out that it showed "that a new power had come in the little band of 'furriners,' high-spirited, adventurous and well born, who had taken matters into their own hands, and subdued local lawlessness" (p. 25). The guard extended its "benign influence" throughout the area, and other boom towns formed similar organizations. After that, the natives, "the easy-going, tolerant good people, caught the fever for law and order." This early show of force and organization of political control made it possible in later years for the owneroperators to rely on the local authorities to protect their interests and maintain the needed law and order. After that, natives did most of the policing, and not until the unionization of the mines did the outsiders again have to take up guns to protect their interests. The establishment of control may not have been quite as rapid or efficient in other parts of the mountains, but the pattern was much the same. The technological superiority of the newcomers made conquest inevitable. The shrewd manipulation of the machinery of law made the newcomer the supporter of law and order while the native became an outlaw. Since the newcomer wrote the history, the colonizer is "adventuresome" while the native is "tough." Raines was to write later: "The Mountain Man that attempts to redress the injustice of the law by using the rifle is no more guilty in his lawlessness than is the millionaire corporation that uses shrewd lawyers instead of rifles" (1924, 144). EDUCATION AND CONVERSION OF THE NATIVES The role of the missionaries and educators was an important one: to make legitimate the exploitation, to eliminate some of the worst abuses, and to educate and change values so that the people would accept the new ways. John Fox recounts another incident of resistance to the newcomers and the use of religion to win over the natives. He reports that when the first printing press was taken to a certain mountain town in 1882, a deputation of citizens met it three miles from town and swore that it should go no farther. An old preacher mounted the wagon and drove it into town. �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 123 There are other reports of resistance to the missionaries, and some ministers were run out of communities and their churches burned. The preachers and church boards soon found that women were more welcome, especially if they had any skills such as teaching or nursing, for the mountain people were eager to acquire teachers and health workers who could most effectively reach the people. A former missionary reported that women were sent in to "pave the way" for the ministers. She rode horseback all over eastern Kentucky without fear of any harm, whereas the preachers would be run out. She started schools and clinics, but she knew that she was really there to pave the way for the preacher to save souls. In a report in 1915 of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers (an inquiry into their needs, and the qualifications desired in church, educational, and social service workers in the mountain country), one churchman writes: I place first [in needs] academic schools rather than Sunday schools for the reason that the former have the stronger appeal and are less liable to sectarian objections and denominational opposition. In this kind of school it is possible to successfully mold the character of the young and to prepare them for more efficient lifework. Through the young, it reaches out into the home and social environment of the parents. Next in importance, I place the Sunday school. It is a more plastic and adaptable agency for reaching the young and adult mountaineer than church services. Its approach is more immediate and acceptable. Well organized and tactfully conducted, the Sunday school's religious and social enterprises can come in closer touch with the homelife and social habits of children and parents, (p. 11) Jean Ritchie relates the story of the arrival of a strange woman into Hazard in 1895, driving a wagon and traveling ahead of the railroad: Folks couldn't rightly make out why she had come all that weary way up into Perry County; she had no people here that anyone could see. . .she was friendly, "nice-spoken," "a little bit nosey," "visited nearly every family," "stayed the night," "would pitch in and help," �124 Colonialism in Modern America and sometimes she'd come right out and rail at them over doing something a wrong way or a hard way and show them a better way. Miss Pettit had such a way about her that she got by with it. After several years of summer visiting, Miss Pettit returned with tents and other women and started teaching school. They held classes on how to cook, sew, mend, darn, and take care of sick folks. They read the Bible and talked about the evils of drink. The Women, as they were called, developed both Hindman and Pine Mountain Settlement schools. Jean Ritchie relates a story about her grandfather which was told by the Women and published in books describing the development of the settlement school. It is a story which has its counterpart in other parts of the mountains and takes on the nature of a legitimizing myth. It relates how a mountain man came to support the Women and their school and to claim them as saviours for his people. He walked long distances across the mountain; and he said: "I growed up ignorant and mean; my offspring was wuss; my grands is wusser, squandering their time drinking and shooting; and what my greats will be if something hain't done to stop the meanness of their maneuvers, God only knows. Women, I am persuaded you air the ones I have looked for all my lifetime. Come over on Troublesome, Women, and do for us what you air a-doin' here" (p. 227). Another missionary, Alice Lloyd, from Boston, came to a Presbyterian Mission, Hope Cottage, on Troublesome Creek. Another old mountain man, Abisha Johnson, went to Hope Cottage and begged Alice Lloyd to teach his children to live "not liken to the hog but unliken the hog" and gave her 150 acres for a school on Caney Creek. Many other women made similar treks. Deaconess Binns of the Episcopal Church came to Nora, Virginia, on the first train that ran on the line to teach in the schools and start Sunday schools. In 1905 an Englishwoman, Miss Toddy Collins, who became known as the Angel of Happy Hollow, walked across Big Black Mountain from Kentucky to Roda, Virginia, a mining camp, to begin a church and a school, preach funerals, make coffins, and mother the sick. The Women were usually welcomed by the coal operators who provided houses and buildings �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 125 for churches and schools. An Iowa minister came to Beverly, Kentucky, which he described as u the wildest part of the Cumberlands." Following the gleam "to this neglected place where lawlessness and ignorance reigned," he built schools and churches and became known as the Shepherd of Red Bird Mission (MLW, January 1929, 17). The missionaries were sincere and dedicated to educating mountain people, nursing the sick, caring for orphaned children, and assisting families in many ways. They also had a profound effect upon family life. Jean Ritchie reports that families moved closer to the settlements to be able to send their children to the schools. The Women made a great impression on the people with their stylish clothes, the pretty furniture, and the nice way they talked. Jean Ritchie and her sisters were impressed: "What if I could grow up to be like that. . . .It was like the whole world was opening up like a blossom" (pp. 230-231). One story is typical of how a community sought their help: "At the request of the community, who were asked in a public meeting to vote on it, a church famous for its high standards was induced to begin work there. It sent a well-trained, consecrated woman as full-time religious worker. A congregation was organized and a school with several teachers. Every year a fresh crop of young people go out from the community to the mission schools to train themselves for worthwhile service" (MLW, April 1929, 13). The missionary and settlement schools were successful in educating a whole generation of teachers and middle-class leaders for the mountains. In a brochure about Konnarock Training School in Virginia, Mr. Kenneth Killinger says: "These schools lead and train youth in Christian womanhood and manhood, developing Christian leaders who will ultimately raise the spiritual, social, educational, cultural, and economic standards of the mountain people." The training at some of the schools was so successful that an educated native, an extension worker for the University of Kentucky, could look back at his people and state that through Junior Club work he was finding that what was really wrong was "laziness or we may call it, lack of industry" (MLW, July 1925). �126 Colonialism in Modem America The missionaries worked on two levels, which insured their influence in the development of the education, health, and social service systems. First, they came as direct representatives of the church and started a denominational church school, or they started Christian schools of no particular denomination in order to avoid direct conflict with local preachers. Second, the missionaries would work in the already existing school system for no pay, as did Deaconess Binns of Nora, Virginia. Deaconess Binns worked for the school board for 35 years for a dollar a year. Thus, her efforts to start a Sunday school and various recreational programs for children met with community approval. It was through this method that an Episcopal church was started and maintained until her death in 1968. All the schools and missions offered various other services besides the rudiments of education. People in the communities quickly learned that they could go to these missions to receive health care and free used clothing and to leave orphaned children, etc. These and other services had been taken care of in the past by the family and community. Now, missionaries with much better facilities were able to "show-up" the meager efforts of the past. In their eagerness to be accepted by the community, many missionaries were overgiving, which placed people in dependency relationships, since missionary help was the only alternative to the hard life of the past. There was another side to the training. The mountaineer became overwhelmed and ashamed of his culture. Fox was to relate that as religious and educational agencies work on the mountaineer "he is cowed by the superior numbers, superior intelligence of the incomer and he seems to lose his sturdy selfrespect" (p. 50). Raines reports that more than 200 schools, orphanages, academies, and colleges brought in by church boards had been established by 1924 (pp. 176-77). He points out that most were boarding schools which provided greater opportunity to mold the habits and thoughts. The schools included household and garden chores, religious training, and constant supervision. He describes the curriculum in what he calls the "brought-on, nonindigenous schools." Most of the cultural people coming into the moun- �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 127 tains to teach unconsciously use the same methods and the same materials to which they were themselves accustomed. . .which are poorly adapted to the super-rural conditions in the mountain area. They either urge the mountain pupil away from the mountains or overwhelm him with hopeless discouragement. In either case, they unfit him to remain at home. (p. 181) It was these schools which developed a dual society where children had one relationship and identity at home and one at school. The schools, books, and teachers represented another world, another history, and another literature. Some of the teachers attempted to preserve certain aspects of mountain culture such as crafts and music. Jean Ritchie reports that "if it hadn't been for the settlement schools, many of the old mountain songs would have died out when the ways of the world came in on us. But the Women loved our music and plays so that they became a regular part of the life around the two schools" (Pine Mountain and Hindman, 231). Other teachers, however, found no singing and a complete lack of suitable good songs in the mountains (MLW, July 1925, 3). One teacher found children singing "I've Been Working on the Railroad/' an "obviously unchildish song," and only two out of 23 students knew "Annie Laurie." This teacher brought in a progressive music series and promoted such operettas as "The Windmill of Holland" and "The Quest of the Pink Parasol." Such denials of mountain culture made native children ashamed of their heritage. Churches and missionaries gave some support to certain harmless aspects of native culture. This fact served to soften the impact and ameliorate some of the abuses of the system, the denigration of mountain culture, and the development of feelings of inferiority by mountain people. The churches and schools, however, taught the values of organization, planning, hard work, and thrift. They made the industrial process legitimate by blaming the ills of the system on the mountaineer himself. He must learn to be more "cagey" (not so gullible and taken in by the land sharks); he must learn to be more thrifty and hard-working, more respectful and cooperative with the mine operators. Although some of the missionaries saw clearly the exploitation, they still had great faith in progress and the benefits �128 Colonialism in Modern America of industrialization. The superintendent of mountain work of the Presbyterian Church wrote in MLW, January 1929, of the tremendous multiplication of industries, some of them of gigantic scale and from alien sections and nations. He saw a need for the states to provide safeguards against the exploitation of their population, for "only as church and state move hand in hand will industrialization become an unqualified blessing." Some were more critical. Perry Davidson, writing in 1926 in MLW, says: Coal, the chief material wealth of the section, is now owned by outside capital. It is doubtful if any of the profits accruing from the exploitation of this natural wealth will be reinvested in the welfare of the mountain people. No great agricultural prosperity is to be hoped for. The timber is gone. This narrows prospects, but let's not despair. And this is his solution. Maybe there is oil below the coal, and if it is struck the native will not let the "furriner" outwit him next time. (January 1926, 10) In an industrial round table of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers in 1926, the group agreed that the industrializing of the mountain resources had been deadening to the constructive instincts and had inhibited the forming of habits of thrift and a feeling for conservation. This group hoped to obtain the cooperation of the heads of companies in working out remedial programs. The consensus was that the employers have hearts and that they vaguely realize the evils of their industrial system but do not know what to do about it. The feeling was that if they were approached in the right way they would welcome counteractive influence. Another Episcopal missionary, who earlier worked among the Indians of Canada before coming to his mountain post, worried about the fact that mining was not constructive and that recklessness took the place of thrift, the miner did not learn to save. "While the accumulation of money is neither the most desirable thing or the only desirable thing, it is a good indication �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 129 of a man's habits, and a man who tries to save a little can be depended upon to fight temptation against slackness of life and conduct7' (MLW, January 1926, 22). Some few missionaries thought the church should be more vigorous in warning the mountain people of the danger of large corporations and also in preserving parts of the native culture. One missionary who came as early as 1876 wrote with appreciation about the mountain people: They need the inspiration of the outside world without its greed and corruption. . . .they are closer to an original type of American manhood than any other section of our country. They should not be changed in their fundamental characteristics. . .they need to be warned of the danger of disposing of their large mountain holdings for a song. Corporations and trusts are a constant menace . . . .they threaten the mountaineers by transforming them into a servile class. (An Inquiry, 20) The missionaries saw the family and church as problems to be resolved (Tadlock, 3). The superintendent of mountain work of the Presbyterian church found the native church non-progressive and without any activities other than monthly preaching by uneducated ministers with an emphasis on doctrine unrelated to life. "But industrialism has brought its nucleus of Christian people, pastors, evangelists, church and independent schools which are centers of religious progress. . .with modern church programs, efficient pastoral leadership (MLW, January 1929, 20-23). Even those ministers who admired the primitive, simple, real worship found the lack of organization of the churches a drawback; services were not regular enough and preachers were ineffective and inefficient. Here again, the outsider judged the family and churches as needing to be better organized—or disrupted—if the native was to be fully integrated and assimilated into modern society. The missionaries formed themselves into an organization called the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers which began publication of a magazine Mountain Life and Work. In the first issue (April 1925, Vol. 1-1) a statement of philosophy, A �130 Colonialism in Modern America Program for the Mountains, was included. It summarizes well their attitudes and programs: First the program for the development of mountain resources by mountain people: . . . .Northern and Eastern artisans and capitalists are our friends and we invite them among us but we must not permit them to crowd us out and take away our heritage and birthright. There is no insinuation that this heritage and birthright are being dishonestly taken from us. They are simply slipping from our hands because of our inability to hold them. We can hold them only through education, skill and efficiency. These three acquirements must become our possession if we would develop the mountain resources. The program for "The perpetuation of Mountain Home Life Along the Lines of Our Own Best Traditions" emphasized the development of God-fearing homes where education is encouraged and love reigns; homes wisely planned. . . .the creation of beauty. . . .building upright character. . . .conveniences to relieve the drudgery of wife and mother. . .the precepts and examples of law abiding citizens are held in reverence and everything derogatory to peace and order and neighborly good will is discouraged. In the program for "A Religion that Functions Actively in the Life of the People" churches should work at a common task and jealousies and competitions should be forgotten. The churches should promote unselfish devotion to the welfare of neighbors and the cause of Christ. There was a need for a religion felt in politics and business and to motivate the civic life of people. . . .patriotic enforcement of law by ballot box and community backing of public officials. . . .election of God-fearing, country-loving officers who will do their duty. Training the youth that bravery and heroism are not expressed by intimidation, revenge and killing, (pp. 20-21) Throughout the program, the emphasis is on the need for education, skills, efficiency, planning, law and order, material conveniences, fear of God and a sense of duty, all very helpful values for the new society. �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 131 THE CHURCH AND FAMILY RESISTS Both the family and church became defensive and reverted inward in order to protect members from the sudden influence which came with the development of industrialization. Some of the characteristics and "problems" ascribed to children and families today by psychiatrists, educators, and social workers can possibly be traced to this process whereby the family tries to preserve traditional mountain culture and resist or adapt to the colonization process. In outline one can point to the following reactions and ways through which the family system has resisted colonization: 1. The family and kinship group became a refuge for its members. 2. The family became more resistant to certain changes and developed sabotage techniques. 3. Used as a refuge, the family resulted in overprotection of children. 4. The family and family groups in neighborhoods became defenseive, exclusive, and closed. 5. The family and family groups became the center for "underground" mountain culture. 6. The family and family groups encouraged biculturalism. Each of these reactions will be discussed briefly. Some of these conclusions can be documented from other reports and studies of family and children in the mountains, but many of these remarks are highly impressionistic observations based on our experience growing up, being educated, teaching, living, and working in the area. 1. The family becomes a refuge. In studying the families in the Southern Appalachians and Appalachians in the cities, researchers have continued to find the society familistic, kinship ties strong and viable, loyalties to kin taking precedence over �132 Colonialism in Modern America "civic" responsibilities, kin groups acting to ease migration problem and to provide a home base for the returning migrant (Brown 1971; Ford 1965; Pearsall 1959; Coles 1971). In the coalfields, where there are few alternatives for employment, the family offers the only alternative means of support. If one "can't take it" any longer, he will be accepted back home and cared for until he has the strength to go back into the mines, locate a new job, or migrate to (or reenter) the city. Rather than being destroyed by industrialization, the family and family ties remain or perhaps in some cases become stronger as the family requires more commitment on the part of members. The Appalachian is expected to be loyal and help members of his family whether he likes them or not. This family loyalty can also be used against the family. Industries soon learned to use family loyalties to minimize criticism of industrial operations. One will not endanger a relative's job or criticize a situation in which a kinsman is involved. Mine operators, for instance, have learned to hire through families to find loyal workers; they also hire from a number of families to cut down on criticism of strip mining within a community. 2. The family becomes resistant to change. Family members restrain their members from taking social action. There is little revolt or conflict since one is afraid to disrupt the only remaining refuge. A number of persons have commented on the permissive mountain mother, and some have suggested that she is afraid to discipline her children for fear of a disruptive conflict. Many school social workers and nurses have commented on mothers who say they can't make a six-year-old go to school, eat proper food, or go to the dentist. This has a contradictory aspect in that the child is taught to rebel against certain institutions such as health and school. The child seems to be trained by the mother to be "willful," and the mother seems to take pride in a child who cannot be controlled. This serves to cut down conflict within the family and also keeps the child at home as he rejects the institutions. 3. The mother frequently becomes overprotective. She holds the child close and makes him feel guilty about leaving home or developing new ideas. Memmi remarks that this is a problem in other colonial situations. "The soft warmth of clan �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalacbia 133 reunions is satisfying and one is afraid to leave it." Looff (1971) in his book Appalachians Children agrees with Memmi (p. 99) that the "young remain glued to family which offers warmth and tenderness and clutches and emasculates him." 4. The family and neighborhoods become more exclusive and closed. Early visitors—including industrialists, missionaries and tourists—found great hospitality, open goodwill, as well as the beginnings of cautious suspicion. The mountain people learned to distrust. Semple (p. 610) reports that people were beginning to resent the coming of "furriners" among them on the grounds that outsiders came to spy upon them and criticize and "tell-tale" as they put it. A cautiousness toward outsiders has been encouraged in the family. "Listen and don't talk" is widely used as a protection. One can also put down an outsider's idea, with, "You are not one of us. You don't understand." This is a form of defensive racism, and the burden of understanding is placed not upon the Appalachian but upon the good shepherd in wolf's clothing who desires to "help" mountain people. This can lead to the family's becoming oversensitive to criticism, more negative, more unchanging and traditional in approach to problems. 5. The family becomes the bulwark against the loss of native culture. Memmi points out that what is saved may be meagre or it may go underground since the colonial falsifies history, extinguishes memories, and devalues native culture. Since he stresses differences, he is always compared with something "better"; therefore, the native becomes ashamed of his heritage and draws less and less from his past, which results in a "present orientation" according to Pearsall, Weller and Ford. The Appalachian takes on the myth perpetuated by the industrialist that there was nothing here until coal came in to develop it. The main aspects of the culture which were fought for and were the hardest to change were mainly patterns of relationships which can be described as basically non-competitiveness. Family members and neighbors depend on each other, but it is a dependence which also encourages independence or "let the other fellow alone." People help each other in time of need; they share the load; but this help is not imposed nor organized and leaves room for independence and individuality. �134 Colonialism in Modern America The family also develops ways of holding down conflicts, "talking things over," and face-saving games. Disputes must be settled amicably; therefore, certain things are never mentioned and certain behaviors are ignored. Equality is maintained through treating all children the same and providing them with equal inheritances wherever possible (Brown 1952). The only consistent exception is "baby," and if land is passed on to only one child, it will more often be the youngest, who in exchange stays home to care for parents. To keep a sense of equality and non-competitiveness, a "local success" or ambitious hillbilly almost has to leave his family and neighborhood and live with the colonizers. In his small neighborhood he will be sabotaged and people won't help him. He will be put down as not neighborly and "out for himself." Perhaps this explains why the local success seems to become more exploitative than the outsider. He goes against his rearing, he is punished, and he retaliates and must find his support from the outsiders. Equality is still important. Mountain people resist experts, titles, and people who put on airs or get above their raising. 6. The family encourages biculturalism. The schools create a duality—a world different from the family environment. Branscome speaks of the "annihilation of the hillbilly" by the institutions. Many mountain youth remember the shaming process when they had to deny their "mother tongue," reject their music and their religion. Memmi (p. 108) says the colonized turns away from his music, the plastic arts, and, in effect, his entire traditional culture^the consequence of which is ambiguity. Smathers talks of two routes the educated mountaineer can take: cultural schizophrenia or cultural transvestitism (biculturalism). Mountain children are taught early to act properly in public and be hillbilly at home. Mountain people learn to deal with medical, welfare, educational, governmental institutions and speak their language and use their techniques. They learn to use institutions, outsiders, etc. selectively. But the strain is great. The mountain person is taught how to use the hillbilly stereotype for his own protection and to confound, aggravate, harass, and thwart the colonizer. (They leave the program planner wondering why that didn't work.) One example is the stereotype of �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 135 laziness, dependency, and irresponsibility which the Appalachian has learned to manipulate effectively in order to sabotage the colonizer's attempts to organize the mountaineer into pseudoparticipatory democracy rituals which further splinter Appalachian solidarity. The mountain church also went through similar reactions. Briefly, the church also became defensive: the native minister reacted against his characterization as ignorant and uneducated by making lack of training and education positive values. Local preachers attacked the incoming trained clergy for their "high laming" and accused them of being lacking in "spirit." The church resisted the social consciousness which was being promoted by outside religious institutions; therefore, the church became more fundamental and rigid in doctrine. It saw the establishment churches as supporting a system, political and economic, which was destroying a way of life. Its best defense was to become less worldly. Few outsiders felt comfortable in the primitive Baptist services; therefore, keeping their services expressive became a good protection. The church maintained equalitarian rituals and strict rules of behavior which set them apart. Mountain people still do not belong to Presbyterian, Episcopal, or town Methodist churches unless they have become middle class professionsals or successful businessmen. Other churches (which became more popular with younger Appalachians) developed in the area, including Free Will Baptist and Pentecostal churches. In these churches, foot-washing is still maintained as part of the ritual; the services are informal; there is still shouting and expression of religious fervor; and preachers still "preach." They now have Sunday schools, sing more popular gospel songs, and even train and pay their preachers; but the city churches are still shunned as coal operators' churches, too fancy and elegant for plain country folk. But while helping to preserve certain aspects of indigenous culture, the native church refused to become involved in politics or to be critical of the economic exploitation of the area; this fact has worked against change in the status quo. Memmi (pp. 99, 101) finds that in a colonized situation both religion and the �136 Colonialism in Modern America family serve as refugees and save the colonized from the despair of total defeat. He feels that the native society gets in a bind; in order to preserve or save the collective consciousness, it must shut itself off, live isolated. In so doing, it hardens, petrifies, and "degrades its own life in order to save it." This appears to be only partly true in Appalachia. The church and family still reflect and teach basic mountain values of equality, non-competitiveness, and family-neighborhood solidarity. These positive and viable aspects of the expressive church and the solidary family may be powerful allies in and the basis for a revitalization movement in Appalachia. Mike Smathers suggests that "resistance strategies" should be considered as positive strategies for the future saving of Appalachia. Those committed to the liberation of Appalachian people might well study the ways in which the mountain family and church have continued to resist the institutions in order to give help to controlling the new "developers": federal government, tourism, and T.V. The new missionaries, the new professional planners, educators, and community organizers might well look at their roles in the new development to see how they also may be aiding and legitimizing the further destruction of Appalachia. �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia" 137 REFERENCES CITED Blauner, Robert 1969 "Internal Colonialism and Ghetto Revolt/' Social Problems (spring) Vol. 16, No. 4, 393-408. Branscome, James 1971 Annihilating the Hillbilly, Huntington: ment Press. Appalachian Move- Brown, James 1952 "The Farm Family in a Kentucky Mountain Neighborhood," Kentucky Agricultural Experiment Station Bulletin 587, Lexington, Kentucky (August). Brown, James S. 1971 Mountain Families in Transition, Penn State. Burlage, Rob 1971 "Developers and Colonizers" in David Walls and John Stephenson, Appalachia in the Sixties, Lexington: University of Kentucky. Campbell, Mrs. John C. 1925 "Flame of a New Future for the Highlands," Mountain Life and Work (April, pp. 9-13). Caudill, Harry 1962 Night Comes to the Cumberland, Boston: Little and Brown. Coles, Robert 1971 Migrants, Sharecroppers, Mountaineers, Children of Crisis, Vol. 2, Boston: Little and Brown. Condon, Mabel Green 1962 A History ofHarlan County, Nashville: Parthenon. �138 Colonialism in Modern America Conference of Southern Mountain Workers 1915 The Southern Highlands: An Inquiry into their needs and qualifications, desired in church, educational and social service workers in the mountain country. Diehl, Richard 1970 "How International Energy Elite Rules," People's Appalachia (April, May). Dix, Keith 1970 "Third World Pillage," People s Appalachia (April, May). Egerton, John 1966 "Alice Lloyd: The College That Can't Be," Louisville Courier Journal, October 23, 1966, pp. 7-12, 26, 27. Ford, Thomas R. 1965 Value Orientations of a Culture of Poverty: The Southern Appalachian Case. Working with low income families, American home economics association, Washington, D.C., pp. 57-69. Fox, John, Jr. 1901 Blue-grass and Rhododendron, New York: Scribners. Henson, Edward L., Jr. 1972 Gladeville and the Mountain Stereotype 1856-1860, Virginia Cavalcade (spring, 21:4, 30-35). Lesser, Roger 1970 "Culture: Toward Tomorrow's People," People's Appalachia, No. 1, March. Lewis, Helen M. and Edward E. Knipe 1970 The Colonialism Model: The Appalachian Case, paper read at American Anthropological Association Annual Meeting, San Diego, California, November 22, 1970. Looff, David H. 1971 Appalachia's Children, Lexington: University of Kentucky. Mahy, Gordon G., Jr. 1946 Murdoch of Buckhorn, Nashville, Tenn.: Parthenon Press. �Family, Religion and Colonialism in Central Appalachia 139 Memmi, Albert 1965 The Colonizer and the Colonized, Boston: Beacon. Mountain Life and Work 1925-30 Files of back issues, Conference of Southern Mountain Workers. Page, Thomas Nelson 1910 The Mountaineer of the South, American Monthly, June 1910. Pearsall, Marion 1959 Little Smokey Ridge, University of Alabama. Raines, James Watt 1924 The Land of Saddle-bags, New York: Council of Women for Home Missions and Missionary Education Movement of the United States and Canada. Ritchie, Jean 1955 Singing Family of the Cumberlands, New York: Oak Publications. Semple, Ellen Churchill 1901 The Anglo-Saxons of the Kentucky Mountains: Anthropology, Harper, VI, 588-622. A Study in Simon, Rich 1972 "An Historical Sketch of Migration in Appalachia," People's Appalachia, Vol. 2, No. 3, July. Smathers, Mike 1972 Talk at rural sociology meeting on Appalachian Research, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, August 25. Tadlock, E. V. 1929 Coal Camps and Character, January, 1929. Vincent, George E. 1898 "A Retarded Frontier," American Journal of Sociology, IV, 1-20. Weller, Jack 196 5 Yesterday's People, Lexington: University of Kentucky. �This page intentionally left blank �PROPERTY, COAL, AND THEFT by If I had to I to (l the in t is si a very ? " a n d i f "murder" I 1 to the to dehis is to is to be prive a a to of his of Why, not to the "Wftdtf is property?" "theft" to be is I I am the of the first? a ... In is We can by the •'A ' ' of lit " of this at the "/» Is I, JVo, 2 in ts of of the o/ tit �142 Colonialism in Modern America berland Mountain and lying on the border of Kentucky and Tennessee. Here one finds the results of corporate exploitation at its worst. Once a booming mining area, automation and strip mining have left 30 percent of the population unemployed. Mountains are gouged by the relentless blade of the bulldozer and blasts of dynamite. Streams are filled with silt and flooding; timber and wildlife are destroyed. Not just land, but a way of life is eroding. Thousands have had to leave to find homes and jobs in the cities of the North and to make way for the strippers. For those who remain, houses are poor, and incomes for over 70 percent of the population are less than $4,000 annually. Within that same valley in Bell County, Kentucky, and Claiborne County, Tennessee, approximately 85 percent of the land—50,000 acres—is owned by a single company, the American Association, Ltd., of London, England. From its land, over 2.2 million tons of coal a year are carted away, mostly to Georgia Power and Duke Power. And from the royalties on that coal, thousands of dollars a year are exported to the company's London headquarters. Yet, there in the midst of England's "Wall Street" the wealth may scarcely be noticed. The chairman of the company's board of directors, Sir Denys Flowerdew Lowson, a former Lord Mayor of London, controls an estimated 88 such companies around the globe; and he personally is listed as chairman of 40. The American Association is one of the smallest of his concerns. To the people of Clear Fork Valley, however, the company represents tax evasion, destruction of land and jobs, and the denial of the future; to Sir Lowson, however, the company's listed value represents a piddling one half of one per cent of his estimated personal wealth. It is no misnomer that one of the American Association's parent companies should be named London Foreign and Colonial Securities. But its English nature should not detract from its similarities with the other absentee property owners of Appalachia. By looking at the historical development of this microcolony in Clear Fork Valley and the meaning of its colonial control in the modern day energy demanding world, we can learn something of a situation common to much of central Appalachia. And by understanding the micro-colonial relationship, we can learn something not only about Clear Fork but also about the �Property, Coal, and Theft 143 relationship of other regions to the energy conglomerates. The Making of a Micro-Colony It is an irony of history that many of the first settlers to come to the mountainous areas in and around Cumberland Gap were the rebels. In the Appalachians they found a place to escape the rapid industrialization of England and of Europe and to establish a new way of life, free from the exploitative social relations which they had known before. As Jack Weller describes in Yesterday s People, some of the settlers came from the Levellers movement in Britain, where they had challenged the power of their English landlords, and they came "in rebellion against a form of government that imposed its rule from the top."8 Yet their freedom in the frontier mountains was changed in the late 1800's when coal and iron ore were discovered and demanded to feed the new wave of westward industrialization. In the Cumberland Gap area it was a young Scottish-Canadian capitalist, Alexander Arthur, who foresaw the Gap as an iron, coal, and steel center to feed the rapidly growing South. Backed by capital from Britain's Baring Brothers, a company was formed, the American Association, Ltd., which in turn transformed the Yellow Creek Valley of Kentucky into the booming coal town of Middlesborough, named after its British counterpart. Rarely has there been such a colonial boom. Between 18881892 over 20 million dollars of British capital poured into the area. Railroads, furnaces, industry, hotels, streets, and lavish halls were built. Thousands of people—many from England, others from the east, some from the south—poured into the area. The town was quickly dubbed by its promoters and others as "The Magic City of the South," and in 1892 its magic was valued on the British stock exchange at over 40 million dollars. Founding Father Alexander Arthur, who came to be known as the "Duke of the Cumberlands," proclaimed to a group of investors on November 11, 1890, "This is but a transfer of British business to American soil."9 And, indeed, soil they had acquired—an estimated 80,000 acres in the Yellow Creek, Clear Fork, and other valleys, all rich �144 Colonialism in Modern America with coal and timber. The most famous historical account of the development of the area, Wilderness Road by Robert Kincary, simply states that the company acquired the land within a few months. In fact, modern day courthouse deeds show perfected titles. But there is more to the story. Residents describe, still with anger, how the agents tricked, threatened, or forced the uneducated mountaineers to give up their land. Some mountaineers, not knowing or even caring about the value to the industrial world of the wealth beneath them, "Voluntarily" sold the land for 50 cents or one dollar an acre. An entire mountain, from which Consolidation Coal now supplies the American Association almost $200,000 yearly and Georgia Power over 1,000,000 tons of coal yearly, was reportedly traded to an agent of the company for a hog rifle. Other mountaineers were victims of legal tricks. One method, oral history reveals, was to have someone jailed and then offer to post bond in return for his land. Where there was resistance, force was used. Residents tell stories of how the company men would burn their fathers out if they wouldn't sell. And though many of the courthouse records of this era have been burned or have disappeared, it is not uncommon for a local Appalachian to look out from the front porch of his companyowned house and remark, "See that mountain? They stole it from my daddy." "Property is theft," but to endure, theft has to be legitimized. In Middlesboro, as in the modern era, the tools of legitimacy were the concentration of power in the hands of a few and an ideology of boom and progress to attract the support of the many. Certainly, the American Association had the power in the boom town. It retained controlling interest in everything—banks, industry, railroads, even the Four Seasons Hotel in which were hosted the recreational shenanigans of the rich. One is reminded quickly of modern plans for development of Appalachian playgrounds. Anyone who had or who wanted any part of the economic benefit of the new society was dependent on the will of those few who controlled it. With the dependency on the economic controllers, though, also came a supporting ideology of progress, civilization, and re- �Property, Coal, and Theft 145 sponse to social need. Arthur proclaims it this way: I would say that America needs this place and our AngloAmerican money, experience and push. . . .We have also the sinews of body and of money and stand ready, cleancut, and vigorous, for a generation of progress and success in manufacture, arts, and sciences. Come and join hands with us in the great enterprise which is worthy of us all, native or foreign born though we may be. ^ The New York Times and other publications applauded the development. For Harper's magazine it represented "a summing up of the past and a prophecy of the future. . . .the last of the mountaineers passing away before the breath of civilization."11 Like other traditional colonialists, the virtues of this "civilization" were unquestionably better than the past, somehow less-than-human, ways of the "natives." The imagery from the same Harper's article demonstrates this equation by the colonizers of progress with economic boom, of human dignity with the material gain: As I stood one day in this valley, which has already begun to put on the air of civilization with its hotel and railway station and mills and pretty homesteads, I saw a sight which seemed to complete the epitome of the past and present tendencies there at work. . . . . . . .creeping slowly past the station—so slowly that one knows not what to compare it to unless it be the minute hand on the dial of the clock—creeping slowly along the Wilderness Road toward the ascent of the Cumberland Gap came a mountain wagon, faded and old, with its dirty, ragged canvas hanging motionless, and drawn by a yoke of mountain oxen which seemed to be moving in their sleep.. . . On the seat in front . . .sat a faded, pinched and meager mountain boy. . . .His stained white face was kindled into an expression of passionate hunger and mental excitement. For in one dirty claw-like hand he grasped a small paper bag, into the mouth of which he thrust the other hand, as a miser might thrust his into a bag of gold. He �146 Colonialism in Modern America had just bought with a few cents he had perhaps saved no one knows how long some sweetmeat of civilization which he was about for the first time to taste. . . . So it is easy to see how for the American Association the combination of monopoly and ideology fused tq portray it not as a colonizer or controller but as a conscientious and necessary contributor to the social good. A Scribner's Magazine article in 1890 reflects this social view. The American Association ''leases its mining and other properties but does not and will not sell them. This fact is evidence of the interests which it has and will always have in the prosperity of Middlesboro." The company controls the coal commerce from "the raw state of the earth's bed until the final and finished result is in the hands of the consumer. . . .To this parental character of the American Association " the article concludes, "and to the comprehensive protection with which it pursues the course of industry is largely due the prosperity of Middlesboro. "12 For those to whom the economic dependency brought rewards, the ideology of progress brought responses of loyalty appropriate to the "parental character." In 1891 local newspapers report that a three-hour mass meeting was held to express appreciation to the officers of the American Association. Held at the Opera Hall, it was the "largest and most enthusiastic meeting" ever witnessed and one at which quite a number of "the fair sex graced the scene."13 For those mountaineers who did not accept the new ideology, such progress meant the intrusion into and colonization of their culture. But their protests and situations were ignored, justified as a "social cost," or pitied by those who saw them as "left out of the mainstream." The literature of the city's development says little of its effect on the mountain people. But one 1905 account describes the colonization of the free life of the mountaineer in rationalities frighteningly similar to what one might hear today: The Association have between 200 and 300 tenants of mountain people and are on the best of terms with them. The Association has not always treated them fairly and justly, but has gone out of its way to assist and to encourage; they have responded by being true friends, �Property, Coal, and Theft 147 assisting the Association in protecting its property. It is much regretted that these people have not yet got the advantage of schools and churches to which they are entitled.14 The Yellow Creek and Clear Fork valleys had been colonized. Through the power of property the propertyless had been made the powerless. Not only is property "theft" but it is also the ability to legitimize itself: to make colonization acceptable. But the glory of the Magic City of the South didn't last long. Money from London dried up. The American financial panic of 1893 hit the hills of central Appalachia. A 1911 issue of the Middlesboro newspaper describes in retrospect: "It may be doubted if ever in the history of boom towns there had been so great a collapse." The properties in the town of Middlesboro were auctioned off and the 80,000 acres of land were mortgaged to the New York bank and a Mr. J. H. Bartlett was appointed auctioneer. At that point, the American Association changed its name from Limited to Incorporated yet retained essentially the same shareholders. In the auction, an agent for the "new" company bought back for $25,000 what had been mortgaged for $1,500,000 only a few months before. Shortly thereafter, J. H. Bartlett became general manager of the American Association, Inc. The strange transaction did not go unnoticed. Creditors of the American Association, Ltd. sued, claiming "fraud," rigging of federal courts, and perjury. The outcome of the suits is undetermined; the records went up in flames in one courthouse and seemed to have disappeared from the dockets in another county courthouse. Though the company had lost its property, it hadn't lost the power to steal it again. Middlesboro as a company town was gone, but the company had regained 80,000 acres of surrounding coal-rich mountain land, and on that property it could continue to control its colony. A Modern Day Colony It was last summer and Lewis Lowe looked out at his small �148 Colonialism in Modem America one-half acre of land located along the Clear Fork Creek, now covered with strip mine silt deposited on it from the latest flood. For the last few years, he hadn't been able to farm much on his land. "Strip mine mud. . . .nothing will grow on it," he said angrily. And today he was thinking of leaving, of moving out of the mountains where he had lived the close to seven decades of his life to an unknown town somewhere. "You'd think we were animals or something, the way they Ve treated us . . . .the strippers and the Association." His life represented much of what had happened in the eighty or so years since the Middlesboro bust. The coal mines and company towns had come to the Clear Fork Valley. For 46 of these years, along with hundreds of others like him, Lewis had worked "from sun up to sun down, worked in almost every mine around, I did." Then, though, it was other companies, those that leased from the Association, that were the "villains." They owned the stores, ran the mines, built the houses, extracted most of the profits, and supplied the Association handsome royalties. These companies needed the labor of the men like Lewis; and though exploitative in the many slave-like ways of the coal camp era, they provided jobs and camouflaged the controlling palm of the behind-the-scenes, landowning American Association. But in the 1950's came the coal slump. For a variety of reasons, the deep mines closed down as they did in much of central Appalachia. In its relentless, ugly way came reminders of who it was that still possessed the property upon which the companies had operated. In 1952 there were 1,230 coal-mining jobs in the county; by 1958 there were only 282. The American Association no longer had the need for men on its land, and, therefore, it no longer provided the employment that had subdued the recognition of the colonizer. Most of the men had to leave the valley to try to find work in the cities of the North; the American Association made no attempt to provide or even to allow alternatives. Lewis had wanted to stay and did until the company told him one day in the dead of winter that he, his wife, and six kids would have to leave in three days. The strip miners were coming in, and they used bulldozers. People got in the way. Twice Lewis was evicted, forced to leave the land that he had tilled with �Property, Coal, and Theft 149 his hands and labor. The home, the garden, the spring that through his work had come to be his now were to be shoved aside by the bulldozer. He didn't get any compensation; after all, they said, it was the company's land. Finally, in 1960 he had found and saved the money for the small place where he now was and had tried again to create a peaceful home that he could call his own. But now, the stripping had caught up with him again, and he was thinking of giving up, of leaving for good. Here in the life of a single miner comes a human example of what is meant by "property is theft," for Lewis Lowe was propertyless, and those who had the property had controlled, manipulated, and finally defeated his will, expression, and pride as a human being. Here also in Clear Fork Valley in a larger sense is an example of the insidious power of absentee corporate ownership that is the murder of Appalachia. We have already witnessed the fundamental form of theft. In the valley today over 2 million tons of coal a year leave to provide over 10 per cent of Georgia Power's fuel, all from the land of this single London based company. Much of the coal is deep mined from a single Consolidation Coal mine, owned in turn by Continental Oil. The rest comes from strip mining by only a few profitable firms, mines which were originally owned by a set of mountain elites but which have now been acquired by the energy conglomerates. Royalties on all the mining, from 20 cents to $1 a ton, are carted away to offices off Bank Street in the financial district of London. We have recognized this form of inequity, and most of America today has accepted the ideology that legitimizes it. But there are other forms of theft in the colonial relationship which grow from that inequity of property that inevitably means the inequity of power. Consider several examples. Property Tax Evasion. Traditionally (and theoretically) the normal social mechanism for sharing or redistributing wealth is taxation. For local governments, property taxation is the major source of revenue, and, supposedly, property is taxed at an equal rate so that those with large amounts of valuable property pay more than the owners of small amounts of less valuable property. But it hasn't worked that way in the Clear Fork Valley. �150 Colonialism in Modern America There the American Association owns 17 percent of the land surface of Claiborne County and perhaps 90 percent of the county's coal reserves. Yet in 1970 its 44,000 acres provided only 3 percent of the local revenue. Even after citizens' challenges demanded that the law be enforced, the situation remained similar. Vast areas of untouched coal reserves were being appraised at $25 an acre, less than the least expensive farmland in the county. And Claiborne County is no exception. In 1971, the nine land companies that controlled 35 percent of the land surface and approximately 85 percent of the coal reserves in Tennessee's five major coal-producing counties accounted for less than 4 percent of the local revenues. In West Virginia, Kentucky, and Virginia—despite laws to the contrary in every state—property taxation has failed to reap the benefits of the immense property wealth for local government.15 These are the counties that need local revenues the most yet get the least. Consequently, the amount of money they have available for education, health, welfare, housing, and for the means and services of human development is far less than the national average. The local small non-mineral holders pay an unfair share of taxes; they pay for loss of services; and they pay in innumerable other ways for the destruction caused to their roads, streams, and lives as the wealth is carted away. Property means not just poverty for the property less; it means the power of the colonizer to avoid traditional forms of sharing that property. Theft of revenue means more than a loss of money; it means in Appalachia the denial of the basic services and means for building independent local communities. Strip Mine Theft. The American Association hosts more strip mine operations than does any other landowner in Tennessee. Almost 5,000 acres of its land have been laid waste by the devastation of bulldozers and dynamite. In central Appalachia itself an estimated 600,000 acres of strip-mined land have been left unreclaimed.16 And as in the Clear Fork Valley, it is on the property of the absentee owners, who escape the consequences, where most of the stripping is done. To many outside of the mountains, stripping is viewed as an �Property, Coal, and Theft 151 environmental issue, and indeed it is. The strip miner literally blasts away the sides or top of a mountain; debris is bulldozed over the side, and the exposed coal is shoveled out. While the process is fast and highly profitable, it leaves the mountain a gaping sore; ecological cycles are upset; timber may take several hundred years to recover; streams are filled with silt and acid. Reclamation, though ostensibly possible, is expensive and rarely carried out in the mountains. It is, as some have put it, "like putting lipstick on a corpse." To many Appalachians, though, stripping is more than an environmental issue. It is an economic one. Folks look back to the days of the deep mines when there was work, and to that deep mining many would like to return. * We've been deprived of our livelihood," says J. W. Bradley, a former deep miner and now a leading figure in the anti-strip-mine effort. "The strippers came in under falsehoods and stole our jobs from us," he says. And, in fact, the Report of the President's Council on Environmental Quality in March, 1973, observes that if stripping in the mountains were stopped today, there would be jobs for three times as many men in Appalachia in deep-mining and probably at higher wages. But for mountain folks the destruction of stripping is the destruction of something even more basic. For people who have always lived close to the land, who have built their lives and their communities around the freedom and confines of the mountains and the streams, stripping is the symbol of destruction of a way of life, a culture. "Every time we see a bulldozer go into the mountain, it's like someone has stabbed a knife in our heart," explained one mountain woman to a group of city folks. Stripping, economically presided over by the absentee property owner, is theft of both a means and a way of life. Theft of Alternatives. As if the theft of wealth, of taxes and services, of a means and way of life were not enough, another most insidious theft is the denial of alternatives to the Appalachian. The carving up of the mountains by a few owners means that others have no choice in building their futures; they are subject to the will of the large landowners. In Clear Fork Valley it isn't enough to say that Lewis Lowe can go elsewhere; there aren't any elsewheres, at least in the �152 Colonialism in Modern America mountains. There in the valley, Alvarado E. Funk, the General Manager of the American Associaton, has announced a policy of depopulation: 'The people would be better off, and we would be better off, if they would be off of our lands," he said. And, because of a lack of jobs or homes, or because of the destruction wrought upon them by the land-use practices of the corporate owners, people are forced to leave. In the valley people are trying to hang on and to provide alternatives. A non-profit community development council has sought for five years to provide the alternative by building new industry and homes. Yet for five years they have been denied any land upon which to build. Just last year the American Association would not even consider freeing one-half acre of its 50,000 acres in the Clear Fork Valley for a clinic. Nor are many other industries interested in coming in. Also, large blocks of land kept unused deny smaller landowners services such as roads and sewers and the chance of their own development. The outmigration of thousands of people from the mountains over the last twenty years hasn't been a matter of choice for most. They've moved to make way for the bulldozer, and now there's talk of having more of them move again to make way for recreation, to allow folks to escape the now overcrowded mountains. Theft takes many forms. Here in the Clear Fork Valley it is not only what is done but what is not done, not allowed, that prevents possibilities of new industry, developments, futures by and for the Appalachian people. What then is the modern day colony? It is theft by the property owner of the resources, of taxes and a base for community services, of a means and way of life, of the possibilities of choice for the colonized propertyless. As was true in the 1890's it is either ignored or rationalized to the rest of the nation by an ideology, the need for energy, or the need for the South to grow, to "catch up." But hidden beneath the ideology is the dependency of the propertyless on the property of others and threat of destruction of a land and a people. In Appalachia, the corporate property holder, like the slave owner, holds the power to deprive "will and personality," a power of "life and death." In Appalachia, property is theft. �Property, Coal, and Theft 153 Energy and the Nation: The Making of a Macro-Colony? The colonization of people by the energy conglomerate extends to others in America, outside the Appalachians. One ought to be able to learn about the nature of social thievery and the process of colonization from history. In the development of the energy industrials and in the "boom" in the South today are signs of a macro-colony, parallel to the development and boom of Middlesboro, the micro-colony of the 1890's. The first similarity is that the energy conglomerates or their representatives, particularly the oil industrials, are buying up all the land and minerals they can get in Appalachia and the West. Jim Ridgeway's new book The Last Play gives a good account of the recent major transactions: Consolidation Coal by Continental Oil, Island Creek Coal by Occidental Petroleum, Peabody Coal by Kennecott Copper, etc. There have been countless others on a smaller scale. And in some instances the form of barter is similar to that of the 1890Js: One company offered an Indian tribe in Montana a health clinic in return for several million dollars worth of minerals. Not only are these few corporations gaining vertical control, but they are developing horizontal alliances—with the landowner, with the fuel company, with the energy producer. Like the American Association in the 1890's, control is being gained by a few from the product to the final good of electricity. Other industries in the South and the nation are becoming dependent upon the energy conglomerates for their own economic strengths and futures. A second similarity of the energy boom is that this dependency on the economic concentration in the hands of a few is supported, even concealed, by a prevailing ideology: the demand for energy for progress and growth and defense, the fuel crisis, etc. The United States has only 6 percent of the world's population yet already uses some 46 percent of the world's energy. Yet we have no suggestions for cutting back on the use of energy, only the need for more and more fuel. Not only can the fear of an "energy crisis" be invoked, but with the capacity to advertise, to create demand and to control supply in the same hands, the ideology can be self-sustaining—and profitably so to the sustainers. �154 Colonialism in Modern America Thirdly, like those riding the bandwagon of the Middlesboro boom, the combination of dependency and ideology have brought support of emotional loyalty from the general American consumer. The boom has been a quick one; the sequence of events in the last year alone has been dazzling. All the major weeklies—Time, Newsweek, Business Week—have declared a fuel crisis. Time magazine sponsored a conference to consider solutions to the crisis to which several dozen representatives of the energy conglomerates, Nixon's key energy advisors, and two environmentalists were invited. Shortly thereafter, Nixon's famed "energy speech" declared the need for more tax loopholes, for relaxation of environmental controls, for more social thievery to "solve" the "crisis." Generally not wanting to interrupt growth or in the belief that their lights would grow dim, the American public accepted the steps, or others like them, as necessary. And, like in the Middlesboro boom, little attention is given by the press or the public to the destruction of a land and people back in the mountains. In cases where the plight is noticed, the colonization and depopulation are justified as "necessary social costs." Attempts at correction aim only at "allowing4* the Appalachian to join the already overcrowded and mountaindirected mainstream. The analogy of the energy boom to the boom of the Magic City in the 1890's is not meant to say naively that energy sources and use are not major social problems. They are. But it is meant to show that the present ownership of energy resources and the supporting ideology of "energy crisis" can be used to disguise social thievery from the urban public as well as from the mountaineer. Consider the following three examples. Labor. Georgia Power's union and race policies brought to our attention by the "Georgia Power Project" or Shell's response to demands of its refinery workers for better working conditions show that in the name of "energy crisis," workers can be exploited. As in the coalfields, the demands of labor are discounted as minor compared to the national needs for energy supply. The Consumer. The growing monopoly within the energy industry means that prices can be increased for the consumer without bringing any benefit back to the coal fields. Usually, �Property, Coal, and Theft 155 for instance, it is the function of the Federal Power Commission to control price increases of electricity. But hidden within their code is a provision known as the ''fuel-release" clause. Essentially, this clause means that wherever the price of fuel (coal) increases, the consequent price of power (electricity) can be passed on to the consumer, no questions asked. The effect is obvious: if a large stripping operation on American Association land raises the price of coal to Georgia Power, then Georgia Power can raise the price of electricity to the public. The extra cost is born by the consumer, but the profits don't go back to the people of Clear Fork Valley or to reclaim their mountains. They go to increase the wealth of the already wealthy few who own, produce, and supply the coal and power. The "Energy Crisis." Energy companies justify strip-mining destruction by claiming the need for cheap fuel to supply the consumer. Yet, only approximately 10 percent of Appalachia's coal can be stripped; the rest must be deep mined if it is to be recovered. Moreover, stripping "for the cream" damages the mountain in ways that will make far more expensive and dangerous the deep mining required for "the rest of the milk/' While the Appalachians are being destroyed, the consumer is being duped. The lack of a rational fuel policy today means that he will have to pay extra costs tomorrow. Someday, as was the case in Middlesboro, the quick, cheap profits will be over. But while the companies will retain their control, the consumers who accept the credibility of their colonizers will have to pay for and suffer the losses. Yes, just as we could see in Middlesboro the founding of a micro-colony out of which have grown ever more insidious forms of thievery, we can see in the modern boom for coal, energy, and "progress," the building of a macro-colony whose similarities to its predecessor ought to sound a warning: property is theft and not just in Appalachia. In the current context, it becomes chief collaborator with other energy industrials in theft from labor, from the consumer, from the future, and from others throughout the nation as well. A Bit on De-colonization There is a difference today in the Clear Fork Valley as �156 Colonialism in Modern America there is in the rest of the mountains to the time of the 1890's, however. People are resisting and a movement is building. The movement takes many forms. In the Clear Fork Valley, citizens have begun to challenge for the first time the American Association and its London holders. Some gains have been won, including the acquisition of some of the company's property with which the local community development council can build a fresh future growing from within rather than controlled from without. In the five major coal-producing counties of Tennessee, Save Our Cumberland Mountains, a grass-roots organization of some 200 people, has in the past two years begun to challenge forcefully the tax evasion, strip mine destruction, and economic and political controls exercised by the large land companies in their areas. Led by J. W. Bradley, SOCM, like many other groups throughout the mountains, is an attempt by the people of Appalachia to regain control of their land and their lives. Whether expressed through working for union reform, fighting strip mining, developing community-controlled industry, or demanding welfare rights, people are angry. Organizations are building. There are those who have compared the mood in the mountains today to the pre-dawn of the civil rights movement—waiting for a spark, a leader, or the right combination of social events that make such movements happen. Those who learned from the failures of the 1960's, though, know that such movements must come from within, must be led and fought by Appalachians, and cannot be fought from the outside. Just as the 1960's provided for non-blacks in the South a brutal awakening of consciousness to the meaning of the statement "slavery is murder, 7 ' perhaps from the 70's the South can come to recognize that in Appalachia "property is theft." Just as the murderers of the slaves aren't necessarily in Mississippi, the colonizers of Appalachia aren't necessarily in Appalachia. Perhaps with this recognition we can see that whether we are mountaineers, workers, or consumers, urban folks or rural folks, we face in the energy conglomerate the same thieves. And if there can come that understanding, there can also come the hope that a movement for decolonization of Appalachia will spark a �Property, Coal, and Theft 157 struggle for radical change of structure and of ideology in the rest of the South and the nation. �158 Colonialism in Modern America NOTES ^Proudhon, Pierre-Joseph, First Memoir - Quoted in Selected Writings of Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, Stewart Edwards, ed., Elizabeth Frazer, Trans. London: Macmillan and Co., 1969, p. 124. 2 Schmidt-Bleek, F., "Towards a More Beneficial Use of Coal," Appalachian Resources Project, University of Tennessee, 1972. ^Gaventa, Ormond, Thompsen, "Coal, Taxation and Tennessee Royalists," unpublished study for the Vanderbilt Student Health Coalition, 1971. 4 Kirby, Richard, "Kentucky Coal: Owners, Taxes, Profits," a study in Representation Without Taxation," for the Appalachian Volunteers, March 11, 1969. ^McAteer, Davitt, "Profile of West Virginia as a Colony," unpublished study, 1971. ®Dun's Review and Modern Industry, April, 1965, p. 40. 'Capital Resources in Central Appalacbia, prepared for the Appalachian Regional Commission by Checchi and Co., Washington, 1969. ^Weller, Jack, Yesterday's People, University of Kentucky Press with the collaboration of the Council of the Southern Mountains, Inc., Lexington, 1966, p. 11. ^Speech by Arthur, November 11, 1890, published as a pamphlet by the American Association. The other historical material comes from cited works or from my own research in local newspapers, courthouses, library records, and interviews. �Property, Coal, and Theft 159 11 Allen, James, "Mountain Passes of the Cumberland," Harper's Magazine, copyright by Harper and Brothers, 1890, p. 8. ^"Southern Lands: November, 1890. Middlesborough, Ky.," Scribner's Magazine, 13Recounted in The Middlesboro Daily News, August 19, 1965, pp. C-22. 14 Tipton, J. C., The Cumberland Coal Field and Its Creators, Pinnacle Printery, 1905. 15por f ur ther information, see "Property Taxation of Coal in Central Appalachia," A report for the Senate Subcommittee on Intergovernmental Relations from Save Our Cumberland Mountains, Inc., prepared by John Gaventa. ^Schmidt-Bleek, Appalachian Resources Project. References are provided only for direct quotes from other printed works. �This page intentionally left blank �THE BIG STEAL by as the the to Jr. the lies the of the the has the "frontier." I as a to it, of a of the of to of his of ffo In the are the at the of the in of It is of the to for the Of (if a a it in the mediate the as on the a for the be of to in the in the in the no imto the in of tiff i « in of iff Iff fi �162 Colonialism in Modern America to stock-raising, and later to the precious mineral rushes. The riches of the timbered hills were by-passed, the coal strata and other minerals were at first unknown, and few, then as now, appreciated the aesthetic qualities of the Cumberland atmosphere. We can therefore say, with a degree of assurance, that southeast Kentucky was settled, very thinly and for an abnormally long period, by a rather distinct social type. We may not here take time for much observation or comment or proof, but it is the significant and apparent fact that the Daniel Boone "type" was of necessity the earliest settler. (Isolation carried forward the character process; organized industrial rapacity preyed on what it found and completed the process of southeastern Kentucky society.) It is noticeable that not even Boone tarried in the mountains when he came leading groups in from North Carolina, but he pressed on toward central Kentucky. The few who came and stayed generally followed Boone's trail from North Carolina, coming in through southwestern Virginia; lesser numbers came from Pennsylvania and western Virginia. A few came in directly from Europe; one of my great-grandfathers came directly from Ireland, and a great grandmother came from Holland. I would but make the point in regard to all these: The mountains typed them all to a degree which it may well be doubted is known in its singularity anywhere else in the States. When I credit this result to the mountains, I mean to signify the national isolation, the personal loneliness, and—if a metaphysical idea may be permitted in a sociological thesis—the natural atmosphere of the Cumberlands. In 1964, after a period of about four years of research in local history, in the state judicial system, and in the region's sociological aspects, I mapped a section of Pike and Letcher counties, a section perhaps five miles in length and comparably much narrower. This mapping was aimed at coal-title research and at a history of the development of the coal empire. It was quite interesting for me to find the first land patent ever granted in the mountain hollow where I was born and had grown up, interesting to attempt to fit these records of 1832 to the easier work of the following decades. I mapped many of the patents of the 1840's, and each decade's history grew more discernible as I found and located the natural objects (for authenticity), both on paper and on the ground. �The Big Steal 163 I discovered that shortly after the Civil War a little flurry of interest in the awareness of the mineral wealth was manifested, unbelievably, by a trio of local people. These men established leases or options of record on hundreds of acres near Jenkins. These leases, of necessity, could but expire and cease to be of legal import; railroads and capital were still far in the future. Twenty-five years of subsequent isolation brought the history to 1890 when, for the Elkhorn Valley of Pike and Letcher Counties and the Shelby Valley of Pike County, the speculators came in a rush.1 R. M. Broas from New York organized the first mass-buying venture. Whether he was buying for himself or as a direct agent for those to whom his "titles" were transferred eleven years later, I have not discovered. He was fairly well furnished with money by the standards of the day. From records of Pike Circuit Court and from material in the Appellate records (Northern Coal and Coke Co. v. C. S. Nield, et al.) it appears that he had "about 20 corps of engineers (surveyers). . . .besides abstractors and attorneys examining titles." His daily payroll was asserted to be four hundred dollars, which perhaps reveals why he chose to deal in leases rather than fee purchases or outright mineral severance deeds. One dollar per acre was paid to consummate the transactions by consideration, and provisions for paying two more dollars per acre "when and as mined" were written into the documents. Not only did this dollar per acre permit Broas to reach twice or thrice as far in acreage grasped, the question of taxation, either on the surface or on the dormant mineral reserve, was left to the lessor. Although any unbiased arbiter could easily perceive that such a lease, granted for a period of 999 years, was an open contravention of Kentucky statutes on "perpetuities," the leases were upheld then in the subverted court system and were more definitely upheld as late as the 1950Js when Pike Circuit Judge Jean Auxier ruled that in all effect the leases were "deeds." This occurred in the face of the mountain court record books wherein the documents had been listed as "leases" for sixty years. At once the Court of Appeals upheld Auxier, and since the substance of the perpetuity statutes had already been voided, there was a sophistry truth in the reasoning. The law against "perpetuities" had ruled that no instrument, in general, was valid that did not provide consideration that could be utilized by �164 Colonialism in Modern America the grantor in a reasonable time, presumably his lifetime. Here was a lease consideration wherein the lessor's grandchildren to the point of economic infinity could not obtain consideration, and then only as the coal was mined (i.e. perhaps ten dollars one year for the mining of five acres and ten dollars in the next century for five more). Nor was the injustice to such grantors the only reason for denial of such transactions; public policy was very much at stake. A wealthy corporation could thus, at a minimal expenditure, tie up and obviate hundreds of thousands of acres or other resources in opposition to the state's or the nation's need. In reference, however, to the removal of public resources and public necessities from the normal availability to the public, the perfect illustration is supplied in the thousands of unsightly shacks and broken men with broken families visible to those who merely pass through southeast Kentucky while the denuded hills, though despoiled, still hold plentiful means of subsistence and self-respect for men who are trained for no other work. But the Broas leases still stand, 16,500 acres of them in Pike and Letcher counties. By my computations, Broas' agents obtained leases for prospecting and mining, generally on the standard form partially described heretofore, 5,167 acres in the head of Shelby Valley between May and August, 1890. These leases comprised part of the area mapped, where the titles were fully or partially abstracted in my research project. Condensing all the material upon which this report is based to the smallest amount of space, I believe it worthwhile to indicate the outstanding facts of just two days of the Broas activity: May 12 and May 15. The following instruments were executed in Shelby Valley (all but one) and show on May 12: Jacob Sanders and Mahulda (leased) 471 acres—coal only—her signature by mark; William Vanover and Sarah—313 acres—coal—signed by marks of both lessors; Wm. Vanover, Jr. and Dicy—182 acres—coal—her mark; James and Mary Elkins—147 acres—coal—her mark. On the 15th: Isaac and Elizabeth Belcher—177 acres—coal—both lessors' marks; James and Sarah Estep—272 acres—coal—her mark; �The Big Steal 165 Reuben and Bethena Johnson—207 acres—coal—both signatures by marks; Richard and Elizabeth Branham—191 acres—coal—her mark; G. H. and Dove Belcher—70 acres—coal—her mark. It will be noted that not one of these wives was able to affix a handwritten signature to the Broas leases; it must not be assumed that the five husbands who apparently did were able to either read or write. It is a pathetic fact that men then were proud of being able to sign their names, and any facsimile was of course a legal signature. From further research related to valid titles, I was able to establish as fact that but three of the men were able to read and write from among the eighteen lessors above, but three were legally competent. And that is, I would suggest, a fairly representative figure for the mountain society of that date. The instruments above were duly acknowledged by a local notary, but the witness required for all instruments signed by illiterate grantors was the agent of Broas, certainly not a disinterested party. Incidental to the lease executions, the agent drew and the notary took acknowledgment of two quitclaim deeds between certain of the parties designated, and with one most interesting citizen whose activities are yet furnishing spice to the odors of Pike Circuit Court. A quitclaim deed from William and Sarah Vanover to James Estep was witnessed by Morse, the Broas agent, and signed by the marks of both grantors. This deed gave Estep "color" upon which to base the lease he was executing; Morse was accepting a dubious lease and helping to bolster it up by a quitclaim brazenly drawn on the same day. The other quitclaim was drawn to the enterprising mountaineer I mentioned above; this instrument quitclaimed a property of description too vague to be located to the benefit of one Denny Vanover, who as his numerous remaining nephews assured me, would "make you a deed to anything; just point out what you wanted." I understood, and my future research indicated that I properly understood, that had Denny lived in New York City he would have sold the Brooklyn Bridge perhaps fifty times. Morse did not take Denny's lease that day; I doubt that the survey, which was to enclose 3 52 acres acquired through him, was yet completed. It was a more delicious fact, still apparent �166 Colonialism in Modern America after eighty years, that Denny owned but 100 acres in the center of Three Mile Creek, and that under a "cloud" when he happily leased Broas the entire left fork of Three Mile Creek, 352 acres. I had the honor and pleasure of placing these facts in Pike Circuit Court for the benefit of the present owner of the so-called surface, who, should he be able to find an attorney of integrity in the noble old Common-wealth, may be recognized as the owner in fee, able to purchase a quarter million dollars worth of chewing tobacco. (I would not wager highly on his chances; the case has lain dormant for four years, stalemated by his inability to find counsel and the court's uneasiness about dismissing the material I inserted in his counter claim.) (Bethlehem Minerals Company vs. John Johnson, Civil Action 7288, Pike Circuit Court.) The color (i.e., color of title, which I mention above in regard to the Broas leases) is an important element in the policies and operations of the coal companies. "Color" means no more than suggestions of title; it may be the flimsiest of title ground upon which to take a stand—such as a quitclaim, as above, from a person who obviously has no right or even a claim to transfer. If the receiver of such an instrument can make any showing of accepting it in good faith and as having some element of value for him, he can use it as "color of title." And there is no criminality ordinarily in giving a quitclaim deed, certainly when rendered to a person of average intelligence and competency; the grantor merely passes whatever right he has in any subject matter to a grantee, without professing any right or giving any warranty. Such a deed could give title to a fortune or might not be worth the ink in its writing. Under Kentucky law, I can quitclaim my interest in this college for a thousand dollars, if to a competent grantee, and no criminal charge will lie to the instrument. And what is the interest of the mining companies in such deeds and others insufficient as to valid title? This: The illegal mining of a tract of coal under color of title means that at worst the operating company will be forced to pay but standard royalty, usually around twenty-five cents per ton, which would have been but good business for it in the beginning; it may never be called to account, which is better yet. But without color of title, a company would be responsible for all coal extracted and liable at the then present market price at the pitmoutb. One of the many interesting angles of the Bethlehem-John Johnson Case is that the company must now mine the coal on the merits of its �The Big Steal 167 case; its title has been challenged and color cannot avail if the landowner successfully maintains his title in court. Let us consider for a moment the relation of the Big Steal (in eastern Kentucky) to lawful execution of deeds and leases. In Corpus Juris Secundum the commentary reads: More inadequacy of consideration is not a ground for the cancellation of a conveyance of minerals or mineral rights, but where a gross inadequacy of consideration is shown, and also weakness of mind, illiteracy, and inexperience of the grantor, and where misrepresentations have been made by the grantee, courts of equity may grant relief by way of cancellation. A mineral conveyance may be cancelled where the minds of the parties failed to meet on the amount of the purchase price. (Sec. 163, P. 350, Vol. 58) The pertinent citation reads: In case of fraud, overreaching or other circumstances justifying equitable relief, court will readily cancel transactions by which speculators procure from indigent and illiterate grantors for nominal considerations, conveyance of ... mineral rights in farm land which has been made subject of oil and gas leases to reputable oil companies. (Durbinv. Bennett, D.D. 111., 31 F. Supp. 24) Though I am somewhat doubtful of the existence of any "reputable oil company/7 it is clear that this federal principle would tear the Big Steal all to Hades, even at this late date. I have demonstrated the degree of illiteracy in the Broas lessors. How indigent were they? It is very likely that some of them lived on dirt floors. What about the considerations? Much has been made of the position that the rediculously low prices were then reasonable, that a dollar then was worth ten, even twenty, today. The essential element in the case is inadvertently given by Appellate Judge E. C. O'Rear, serving the mineral interests on the Frankfort appellate bench as he had served them in the very buying of that subject matter on which he sat Not seeing the application of all he wrote in a lengthy opinion sustaining a Pike County Judas (who had ordered that the validity of the Broas leases should not be SPOKEN AGAINST), O'Rear said: �168 Colonialism in Modern America These conditions have attracted and will doubtless for some time continue to attract investors and speculators. Another natural consequence is that prices for such properties will be advanced under present improved conditions, very considerably over what was even a high price for the same properties a few years ago [Emphasis mine]. (NCC v Nield, Pike Circuit Court) Contrary to his own words in an earlier portion wherein he opined that Broas had purchased with mere hope in the "future," the eminent jurist is recognizing that the speculators already know the value of a southeastern Kentucky dollar, that it is but waiting on the completion of the rail line to climb like a rocket, and this is what justice must compute the consideration on. This factor alone takes us back to the Corpus Juris commentary: "A mineral conveyance may be cancelled where the minds of the parties failed to meet on the amount of the purchase price." (Of course, none of this law nor those facts matter, but they furnish us with a sociological study.) One other factor remained in the list of possibilities toward cancellation; it was the question of misrepresentation. An earlier but near relative of that same Auxier who ruled against Pike County in the Broas situation of the 50's prepared sworn evidence in an early move against the Broas transactions to the effect that part of the consideration of the leases had been Broas' assurances that the railroad would arrive in five years and then mining, hence payment, would forthwith begin. Misrepresentation of another type, a humorous and pathetic type, was the lessee's solemn covenant that all gold found in the leaseholds would remain under title of the grantors. In spite of all these factors which alone or cumulatively warrant cancellation, we would do the mountain people an injustice to assume that they supinely submitted to the Broas steal once it became a matter of public knowledge. Efforts were made to break the leases in court, attempts were made to return the dollar-per-acre payments, and some lessors openly resold to willing grantees over the Broas documents of record. (The leases were truly void for a half-dozen legal considerations which are offered in the above, but the corporations had conspired with state government as an initial move; in the entire history of the Big Steal only one significant ruling has been awarded the landowners: i.e., lateral and subjacent support which I hope to discuss briefly. In that �The Big Steal 169 time, only Governor Breathitt of the 1960's has established a record among his predeeessers of openly standing with and for the people and that only in the latter half of his term.) Let us consider the prospects of a newly-arrived speculator or buying agent, one who is in the first wave into the mountains and is "in on the ground floor." If he is from the North or East, as I imagine all were, he has never seen such a country, such potential, for even the steep hillsides may be propitious. (Coal would be dumped directly into rail cars.) Only on the West Coast could the value of the timber stands be surpassed, though the lumber men had arrived earlier, seeking only the very best of the best types. The black walnut and yellow poplar had been cut heavily, and the best of the white oak is gone, but the eye could not from any distance perceive the difference. There are no roads worthy of the name; wagons can be used, or sleds, but the creeks are forded, not bridged. Through the decades of isolation only the creek bottoms are cleared and some of the "cove" fields. The timber grows down to the creeks, hanging over the paths and wagon trails. The tentative earlier prospecting had quickly established an important truth; no great care need be exercised in buying. The coal was there, everywhere; the only difference would be in grade, and none of it was worthless. So one could buy freely as to site. Buy from site to adjoining site future mining fields by accretion. But buy anywhere as opportunity offered to make the capital reach as many fools as possible. Here was a people who had known but six-month or sevenmonth schools as the annual custom. But this means less than we might expect. The severe winters could cut that time to four or five months, and distance was very much a factor in attendance. Many families did not even choose to send their children, though others were more than willing. Short-term "writing schools" sometimes supplemented the regular term; these might last as little as ten days. Eighth grade students could teach, and I suspect that in earlier days anyone who could read and write was eligible. The mental capacity of the people thus ranged from an understandable illiteracy to a vicious stupidity in some cases. �170 Colonialism in Modern America (There were the exceptions; I have learned of men who could plot land surveys and there were men who left the mountains and returned as doctors and lawyers. These exceptions were probably rare indeed earlier than 1890.) But the buyers found a general atmosphere of geniality; they were expert in breaking down the innate suspicion. They addressed the victims by their first names; they placed themselves inside the obligations of hospitality, for many, even among the violent types, considered themselves responsible for the safety and feelings of a guesteven if he was sleeping on a cornshuck mattress and being fed cornbread and salt bacon. For these mountain people to see a hundred dollars in cash at one time was a life experience; and in addition to the lack of education, they were and are yet exceptionally naive. As much as they may distrust outsiders in general, they have the strangest veneration for education (even if hidden under hostility). At that time, it is to be doubted that a single one knew the implications for the future in the mass selling; many thought the coal existed in only one seam; some thought it existed only in certain places. I have written all this in regard to the buyer and his advantages to illustrate his one great disadvantage, that which has been a burden on the back of the industry up to this date, and that which would have changed the regional social system had not the industry prepared for its potential troubles by aligning with state government and maintaining either an alliance or a rapport unto this very day. The industry's problem was this: There were no legal means of obtaining titles to the great coal strata. There was comparatively little population; this was good in a way for the region was uopen." But relative to population, there were but few settlers per lineal mile on the creek systems; there were even fewer claimants of property, for incredible as it may sound, this region has always had a "renter" class, even when land warrants and patents could be obtained for a pittance; sympathetic county surveyors would come to the farm, survey one line and geometrically calculate the other three, back to the starting point, to lighten the cost of the patentee. But there were those who had never obtained land. I have concluded that it was seldom indeed that this class stayed on one location long enough to perfect a title by residence. These who were later called "renters" did not then necessarily have to rent; they were often squatters, moving from one creek to another as the whim or necessity moved them. �The Big Steal 111 Furthermore, many of those who considered themselves to be landowners were definitely not. The mountaineers honored each others' deeds (in general), but these were often based on original squatting or arbitrary claims, and the continuity that would have perfected preemption or adverse possession had often been broken to spoil the possible or pending title. Even when absolutely valid patent titles had been obtained, men would sometimes abandon them and others might obfuscate the record by patenting over the same lines, unwittingly or knowingly breaking the patent laws. But titles, as far as corporations are concerned, must be obtained through individuals, through title holders. So the industry knew its problem in advance, knew that only in a region so deprived and isolated could it hope to grasp and maintain such a tremendous chunk of the national wealth. The entire governmental system was subverted to maintaining this national swindle, and on the local level the two parties took on the aspects of two bloated swine fighting in the swill trough, careful never to turn it over—for who knows but what we might win next election. From the Court of Appeals down to the average police court, the judiciary became a class of parasites whose only necessity for a show of legal knowledge lay in the cases wherein two non-political people had suits of private nature, and both were evenly matched as to influence and access to money. Returning directly to the Broas leases and other sources of title, I sought to make the point that titles may only be obtained where they exist, and for the massive purposes of the industry there were no massive title sources. It was realized from the first that continual title improvement must be a goal and remain an integral part of operations for years. Many of the Broas lessors were again contacted and induced to sign outright mineral conveyances by mere payment of the two-dollar-per-acre contingent consideration. These new conveyances were the notorious forms known synonymously as the Northern Coal and Coke form, the Mayo form, the broad form, or the long form; and the mineral grantees at this phase also picked up all minerals on the properties in addition to the coal and obtained the rights which the cooperating Court of Appeals said were tantamount to outright control of the surface. (In all honesty, no other factors of law being considered, this was essentially true.) But none of these acquisitions affected the basic title situation which was �172 Colonialism in Modern America based on the ability of the original or the new grantors to give sound titles. However, in the next two decades, many of the instruments became valid as some of the grantors perfected their suface titles by fifteen years of various forms of possession, validating the mineral conveyance by the same token. Various means were used by the industry to aid and encourage specific landowners to improve their titles, though the companies had to work here in privacy for fear of exciting a public or an individual interest in the possibility that the landowner had a better mineral title than the operators themselves did. THIS IS STILL THE BASIC FACT OF TITLE RESEARCH IN THIS REGIONREGARDLESS OF ALL THE PURPORTED SEVERANCE OF MINERALS FROM THE SURFACE, NO SEVERANCE IS VALID UNLESS EXECUTED BY ONE WHO HAD A VALID TITLE IN FEE. An invalid or false severance can be made valid if the grantor in question later develops or obtains for himself a good title to the property in question. IN THE AREAS I HAVE MAPPED AND ABSTRACTED, I WOULD ESTIMATE THAT THE MINERAL INDUSTRY HAS A FIRM TITLE TO ABOUT SIXTY PERCENT OF THE TERRITORY IT HAS MINED OR IS MINING. And this figure would be less had there not been a continual program of shoring up weak spots, obtaining various statute concessions, and an increasing percentage of buying in fee. I could cite incredible instances, however, if space permitted, where large tracts are awaiting exploitation on title grounds which can reflect nothing but that desperation in the thirty years after 1890 to get some sort of a document from any sort of a person to cover the accretive surveys of Broas and his successors. In the head of Shelby Valley I found a mineral deed to a large acreage, granted by an uncle of mine to Consolidation Coal Company; the amazement of the present "surface owners" equalled my own, for as I had suspected and as they knew, his uncle, deceased for several years, had never in life had the slightest claim on the property in question. And not only was he a good respected citizen, he was certainly too sensible to have executed such a deed in the face of his immediate neighbors. I can cite a variety of similar instances in a radius of five miles, but I am trying to deal with trends rather than examples. Incidentally, this acreage had already been obtained as a Broas lease; the new or later document showed clearly that Consolidation was foreseeing possible difficulty with the leases. �The Big Steal 173 So, while the Land and Property Departments at Jenkins, under the long chain of operating names of Consolidation Coal Company and Bethlehem Mines Corporation, schemed and drew and redrew its maps and watched over possible future sore spots, the industry maintained or tightened its grip on the state judiciary and the political systems. In the history of Kentucky mining, only one circuit judge has proven his integrity and openly fought for justice.2 This is Courtney C. Wells of Hazard, Perry County, now in private practice. In BLUE DIAMOND COAL COMPANY v. NEACE, Perry Circuit Court, Judge Wells, having been already overruled by the Court of Appeals in a strip-mining case reversed for the operator, had to instruct a jury in a second one. Facing the fact that our honored appellate statesmen had ruled that only such stripping as was "arbitrary, wanton, or malicious" was forbidden or compensable, Wells gravely stayed inside their logic and told the jury: The Court instructs the jury that the plaintiff, Blue Diamond Coal Company, had the right to the use of the surface in the prosecution of its business of mining, for any purpose of necessity or convenience, unless this power was exercised oppressively, arbitrarily, wantonly, or maliciously, and if you believe from the evidence in the case that the plaintiff in the prosecution of its business of mining, exercised this right of power in an oppressive, arbitrary, wanton or malicious manner, and the defendant's property was damaged thereby, then the law is for the defendant and you should so find. It was a foregone conclusion as to how a mountain jury would react to these instructions, and Wells, knowing that the Frankfort rogues would overrule him again, added a judicial opinion to the appeal record, flatly asking the Court to reverse its ruling and overturn the Buchanan v. Waton precedent upon which Kentucky stripping was based. Of course, all he established was his integrity, while that eminent jurist who was once promoted here for governor, the Right Honorable Judge Palmore, really put the appellate position in the proper perspective: "The mere exercise of a right to mine in a particular fashion cannot of itself be classified as arbitrary, wanton, or malicious. It is the manner of the mining operation, as distinguished from the fact of its being carried on, that determines liability for damages."3 �174 Colonialism in Modern America And to show that he was capable of more than sophistry and that Kentucky law is what "this Court says it is—this week" (a direct quote from one of the seven Judases), he wrote some of the most astounding words seen in American jurisprudence: . . . .we are obliged to point out that Buchanan v. Watson does not upset any existing law, but applies the old principles to a new fact situation, AND RIGHT OR WRONG, it would be a grave matter indeed for this court by overrulling it now to upset property interests which have since been invested in reliance upon it. (Emphasis mine) It would be hard to find plainer English to say that Kentucky's Court of Appeals would not overrule the mineral industry's prize precedent for any reason, and a franker confession that the Court is a base for the interests "relying upon it" could not be stated. �The Big Steal 175 NOTES *A few notable severances had been executed earlier than 1890 by Virginia Mining and Improvement Company, (Probably less than a halfdozen, in the late 1889's.) ^It would be well for me to note that two other judges have voiced opposition to the mineral-political-judicial combine. John Chris Cornett of Knott Circuit Court has twice denied the right of the operators to destroy the surface without compensation to the surface owner. Judge Edward Hill, formerly of Floyd County, now a Judge of the Court of Appeals, dissented in the latest appellate case which reversed Cornett in Martin et ux V, Kentucky Oak Mining Company et al. In the dozen or so mining counties with circuit judges having a four (six?) year term of office, these three legalists form a tiny and significant minority during a period spanning eighty years. ^Lateral and Subjacent support is required for the surface owners under Kentucky law. From the early days it has been illegal to remove all the coal under any area without leaving pillars (blocks) of coal to support the surface; the coal companies must expressly buy the right of total removal, i.e., breaking the surface. This is from a state judiciary that later permitted the entire destruction of the surface. �This page intentionally left blank �THE LAND DEVELOPMENT RAG by This the by in North by in to It on the velopers' shovels. The the of the people in the and of for to conAver}7 to fall under the deof this is to docuto be the the up en™ of Is centers." to by iy the is a a in (c) and for to om �178 Colonialism in Modern America ed by gently sloped mountains to a cacaphony of strip-development/fast-food chains. The land grab has boosted land prices so that farmers can't afford farmland and has intruded a culture of affluence on farmers who are left to work as greens-keepers and domestics, to commute to industry towns, or to sell and move out. Developers say North Carolina farmers are simply following a national pattern of leaving the farms since World War II. But the national decrease in farm acreage harvested was 10 percent during the past decade, while the decrease in Avery County was nearly 40 percent. In more developed Watauga, it was a whopping 50 percent. Farmers admit that it's been getting more difficult to stay on the farm every year because of rising prices, but the financial blow caused by tourist resorts makes farm life almost impossible. The seasonal beauty of the Blue Ridge and Appalachian chains attracted corporate developers, many of whom had already splattered the Florida coast with beachfront resorts. They saw a quick profit to be made in an area with four tourist seasons, low tax rates, accessibility to the Appalachian Development Highways, and a 60-year history of exclusive, small resort communities. They came, they saw, they bought. While the turnover of land to outsiders has been sizeable, the boom was initiated locally, in the early Sixties, by Hugh Morton and the Robbins brothers, who recognized the profit to be made in major land development. Morton, called a "conservationist before the word was invented" by one of his salesmen, subdivided a portion of the 7,000 acres of his family's land to create expensive resort subdivisions. Morton's and the Robbins' developments would have 6,000 people living on delicate mountain land. The Robbins' Hound Ears development charges $20,000 for a half-acre lot with covenants to build $50,000 homes; and the Morton family's Invershiel, a Scottishdeco community, charges $50,000 for two-acre lots with architectural covenants to build Scottish manor houses. The most exclusive and expensive development is Grandfather Mountain Golf and County Club. Morton and Oklahoma Oilman John Williams carved a suburban vacation complex into Grandfather Mountain and demand $20-30,000 per acre, $6,500 for country club membership, $600 annual dues, and $80,000 to $250,000 �The Land Development Rag 179 homes. Corporate developers like Carolina Caribbean and Sugar Mountain, as well as a flock of smaller subdividers, have capitalized on Morton's cue and created a land grab to build moderately priced resorts modeled after his exclusive mountain retreats. The developers scalped the mountains from Avery County to Watauga's Boone to make room for a string of resort complexes, then pocked the roadsides with billboards which advertise "kicks in the sticks" images for urban tourists. The choice of a second home depends upon the size of your pocketbook. The most exclusive, like Hound Ears and Grandfather, are self-contained units which offer everything from golf, tennis, and skiing to restaurants and the requisite country store. Further down the road, Beech, Sugar, and Seven Devils hawk cheaper versions, and trapped in between are hurriedly-built places like Adam's Apple and Mill Ridge, with poorly built houses, some below the water flooding, and a single ski slope which runs virtually down onto the highway. The secluded and exclusive resort complexes appear to taunt the neighboring communities where some residents live in substandard housing with outdoor plumbing, no running water, and a per capita income of $1,500 for farming families. Developers claim that their construction primed Watauga's and Avery's economic pump. But the facts speak differently. True, some people have profited from the spectacular land grab, but most people are hurt by the apparent and hidden costs of land speculation. And the buying was spectacular. Realtors turned land over three and four times in as many months, inflating the prices according to what other speculators or vacationers would pay. One realtor bought 300 acres at the base of Grandfather Mountain for $30,000 and sold less than of a third of the land the following month for $156,000. Land that once cost $250 an acre sold for $2,500 and up. Farmers couldn't resist the money and sold their land. Those who held out demanded prices they didn't dream possible and got them. "I asked $80,000 for my back 40 acres, and some fellow from Florida paid it," said one man who saved his farm by selling his mountain land. Other farmers were pressured to sell or swap their land, leaving the developers with huge tracts for subdivision. Beech Mountain quarter-acre lots cost 820 times the original buying price, and land prices in the rest of Avery County were boosted �180 Colonialism in Modern America 401 percent in five years. (During the same period, farmland prices in the nation as a whole increased on the average from $115 to $194 per acre, or 60 percent.) According to a North Carolina Public Interest Research Group study, by 1975 outside speculators owned 164 percent more land in Watauga County and 47 percent more in Avery County than they did in 1970. Land boom threaded everybody's conversation, and realtors thought they'd never see the bottom of the money barrel. Hard Times But the recession hit the developers hard, and salesmen aren't showing anybody house lots anymore. "When the economy is strong people buy luxury items like second homes—in a recession we're the first item to go," said a developer. Most of the less exclusive resorts face bankruptcy, and several larger developers like Beech Mountain have gone under. The history of bankrupt Beech Mountain challenges the assumption that the only reason for the failure of resort developments is that they've fallen victim to national recession. Beech's and Sugar's near bankruptcy demands an examination of the assumption that the development of recreation communities is a positive means for farming communities to sustain themselves. In her master's thesis, Robin Gottfried judged that "unless more and more homes are constructed in subdivisions, scattered lots or new recreation communities—the [economic] flow of benefits stemming from new construction will cease. If nothing else fills this gap, [the community]. . .could face a serious crisis."1 Beech owes $10 million more than its $25 million assets to a string of banks which includes North Carolina National Bank, Northwestern Bank, and Tri-South Mortgage Investors Trust of Atlanta. Former Beech President Roger Hard said Beech could have stayed afloat if the government had granted $8 million in tax-payer money to correct water and sewage violations and if bankers lent an extra $500,000 to prepare its ski slopes. But federal dollars cannot be used to build sewage plants for private industry, and the lenders said no. Beech's collapse is also due to more than the recession. �The Land Development Rag 181 According to court-appointed trustee Ralph O. Hutchinson, an investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) into Beech Mountain activities showed a 'Very relaxed attitude toward cost control, poor management and a complete lack of development and operational planning/' He also said that the investigation uncovered some ''irregularities in the use of corporate funds." Because of its financial and management shenanigans, Carolina Caribbean, Beech's corporate father, was suspended from the exchange. Beech, like other resorts, "ran the financial numbers game to stay afloat," says President Hard, who was brought in by Carolina Caribbean to bail out Beech and is now attempting the same at neighboring Sugar Mountain. Hard says the resort developers put up tremendous amounts of front money to build ski slopes, lodges, and restaurants to attract people to the mountains in the first place. Then overhead costs for water, sewage, and operating expenses were borrowed on short term notes while the lots and houses were sold long term. "It's a cash flow problem," he said. "A purchaser buys a $10,000 lot but makes only a $1,000 down payment while it costs us $7,000 to prepare it." "The $7,000 didn't include soft costs which added to our immediate obligations," said Hard. Nearly 75 percent of Beech's operating expenses were for salesmen, advertising, enormous salaries, and hefty expense accounts. "The original corporate owners should have put land sales money into escrow to build equity for land development; but they borrowed loans upon loans based on nothing but paper until the business operated only on financial device," said Hard. Banks and Real Estate Investment Trusts couldn't wait to press money into the developers' hands. They loaned 100 percent money at five and six points above prime for paper collateral. "It just didn't work," said Hard, who couldn't issue a 1975 annual report because of Beech's faulty bookkeeping. Hard says he's a little more successful with his Sugar Mountain rescue, but he pays himself a month's salary in advance "just in case." Sugar is delinquent in all of its normal trade accounts. What Hard did was arrange with Sugar's lenders to defer payment on loans of $10 million which are currently secured by corporate real estate. The bank couldn't refuse to wink at Sugar's debts. Hard showed the lenders that they would lose $500,000 more by �182 Colonialism in Modern America foreclosing than by placing a moratorium on his old debts with no principal or interest. He says if he stabilizes his credits, pays current bills C.O.D., and borrows $2 million more, he'll make money in five years. "This time," says Hard, "we're going to change Sugar Mountain from a semi-private to a public resort." Hard plans to halt land sales, push the ski lodge and convention business, and create a weight-loss camp. Opening the doors to the public invites criticism that local people who can afford to use the ski slopes are caught in an economic ping-pong game. When times are bad for the resorts, local residents are welcome. When times are good, they're excluded. "We want to generate traffic through the resort to sell houses," says Hard. "When the second home business gets built out again, the slopes won't be able to handle local people—there won't be room. So we'll have to close the local people out." Hard Sell Developers say the resorts meet urban dwellers' recreational demands. "Mountain retreats are what the people want," said a realtor. But carnival marketing techniques of large resorts like Beech and Sugar indicate that this particular form of recreational demand is produced by the developers. "The whole thing is created," admitted a former salesman for the Beech sales team. "Developers create the value, the impression, the atmosphere— and then sell it with emotional appeal." Professional sales teams are trained to invent what people think owning mountain land is: country living with suburban familiarity. Beech's well-rehearsed dog-and-pony show tactics begin with a deluge of telephone calls made to randomly-chosen people in "prime target areas." When enough people agree to participate in a free tour, chartered planes whisk the targeted clients to a mind-boggling weekend of loose money and fast talk which intimates that the last quarter-acre of Appalachia might be sold before they got off the plane. The sequence of well-controlled events leaves little room for thought. "If they think twice about buying—they'll change their minds," said a salesman who admitted that most people hadn't thought of buying land before the sales team called. Free meals, free lodg- �The Land Development Rag 183 ings, and the developers' idea of mountain culture are part of the package. "At Beech," said the salesman, "pretty little girls dressed up in Indian costumes drive buyers around the golf course and deposit them in briefing rooms where the benefits of purchasing a lot are described." Then they're released to the salesmen. The salesman's job is to generate enthusiasm to sell land. "Salesmen drive people to the top of the mountain and literally cry about its beauty," said a man who did it. The procession to the mountain resembled an army convoy. Jeeps carried the buyers to pre-selected lots, the man in front and the woman in the rear. Two-way radios connected salesmen with each other and with general headquarters. Several jeeps would converge on a lot at a prearranged time. Sales were flashed onto the jeep radios. If a tourist wavered, the salesman radioed his indecision in code to headquarters who radioed the lot number of other jeeps. Bidders for the unclaimed lot would crowd the frequency. "What's important is to create a sense of urgency," said the salesman. After paying $8,000 to $10,000, what does the client get? "Not much," according to a salesman. "The clients lose, too. Resort facilities aren't built to last. They're simply paste-up jobs to sell as much land as quickly as possible." Developers often build the minimum to sell lots and then leave the property owners to worry about maintenance and other problems like fire protection. Purchasers find themselves having to maintain security, water and sewage systems, golf courses, ski slopes, and roads not built to anyone's standards except the developers. "Nothing was built to last," repeated the salesman; "it was built to show that it had been done. We've butchered some of the prettiest mountains you've ever seen." Fancy Doctors and Salty Roads Resort developers say they're good for the county because they spend money locally and pay taxes. But laid off resortconstruction workers are trying to revitalize their neglected farms, and female-oriented domestic jobs are seasonal and lowpaying. "We've increased the tax base immeasurably," said the vice-president of Grandfather Mountain Company. If this were �184 Colonialism in Modern America the ease, then tax rates should have decreased or county services increased. In fact, not only have land values skyrocketed with each tax assessment, but Watauga's property rate increased by 46 percent last year. Also, high density resort communities overload a town's services and facilities. As for county-provided services for those increased tax dollars, local citizens say they get little and are second priority for the services that the county does provide. County services have not increased since the resort boom. Road maintenance typifies an unequal provision of services. North Carolina's roads are state maintained. Snow removal is a primary maintenance function. Both Avery and Watauga counties are included in a "bare pavements program" which salts 165 of the 400 miles of paved roads at the first snowflake. Highway officials salt the most trafficked roads: All ski roads get first priority. Farm roads, often impassable in winter months, are not priority. Several Valle Crucis farmers said the school bus couldn't take their children to school during last winter's weeklong storm because of the bad roads. But skiers could reach the slopes. Local maintenance workers, who once looked favorably on ski resorts, said they use one-third of the state's entire snow removal equipment to clear Avery and Watauga counties, but their own roads remain blocked. Road salting is rotting cars and polluting people. The highway department dumps 6,000 tons of sodium and calcium chloride on the winter roads. Truck farmers say that since the salting began they've had to buy a new pick-up every two years because of corrosion. When the snow melts, salt percolates into the soil and drains into water systems. A district highway engineer said, "I daresay there's people who've got salt in their water systems right now." The reason the highway department uses salt instead of neutral sand is that "salt clears the roads cleaner and faster to the ski areas. We have to use so much of it anymore, it's cheaper." The district engineer said he wished the state would put more money into road maintenance instead of expanding the highways to draw tourists, but he plans to build a $9 million expansion of the 5.3 mile tourist-used road from Boone to Blowing Rock, Watauga's only wet city. A coverall-clad realtor wondered why they "just don't move the liquor to Boone instead of �The Land Development Rag 185 building a $9 million four-lane." Seasonally overcrowded hospitals force local people to bear the costs of new hospital-expansion bonds. The hospital at Banner Elk serves the resorts at Beech and Sugar Mountains, Seven Devils, and Grandfather Mountain, as well as Avery County residents. Hospital Administrator Juanita Shoemaker says, "It's simple to understand. We've had to expand the hospitals along with the developments." Mayor Charles Cannon agreed. "During ski season and hang-glider days, the emergency room is full." Shoemaker says the emergency room was a nightmare during Beech's first ski season. "Evetyone worked weekends and nights to set broken legs and bones." A record 11,000 people used the emergency services that year while local residents complained that their children's illnesses often went unattended. Hospital administrators are unsure of the number of out-of-county patients because second home dwellers use local addresses for hospital admittance. Even so, nearly 30 percent of the patients at Cannon are not from Watauga or Avery Counties. When Beech Mountain collapsed, the total number of local patients at Cannon increased by 17 percent. Boone's hospital is a highly specialized and expensive medical complex—a magnet which has tripled the number of its specialists in the past five years. Last year, the hospital board voted to purchase additional equipment and build a new wing to house the specialists. Local people judge they would be better served by community clinics engaged in preventive medicine and primary medical services instead of the highly specialized and expensive medicine available at the hospital. "We need regular doctors, not fancy medicine," said a woman who can't easily commute to the centralized hospital because she doesn't have a car and there's no public transportation. Deeds and foreclosures descended like a paperwork avalanche on the county sheriff's office. The sheriff blames the rise in drug arrests and breaking and entering on second homes. "Robbers thrive on second home developments and tourists bring in drugs," he said. Some of the resorts maintain their own security, but the deputies routinely patrol the resorts and if there's an arrest to be made, "It's our baby." During the past 10 years, the sheriff has tripled his force and he says with the extra seasonal work, "It's not enough." �186 Colonialism in Modern America Volunteer fire departments suffer more than the police. With old and minimal equipment, the volunteers must douse fires in developments whose roads are sometimes so narrow that the truck can't squeeze through to the burning house. Rev. Campbell, who heads the Foscoe Fire Department, says the problem is more than firefighting, since the "closest thing we have to community action are the volunteers. Helping developers out cuts into our efforts to stop them from destroying our land." Some resorts, like Grandfather and Hound Ears, contributed money to local fire departments for extra equipment. "They've bought allegiance, round-the-clock protection, and lower insurance rates," said Campbell. County officials agree that they spend proportionately more time meeting tourist demands than attending to local residents. "Tourists are a different class of people. They expect more service," said one official. The problem of service is both attitudinal and financial. Summer people pay taxes but aren't interested in specifically local issues like education. Therefore, their tax dollars become proxy votes to ensure that their interests are honored. Also, Watauga's government has invoked a spate of regulations to prevent future land abuse, which means more tax dollars must be spent on enforcement. Cutting Up the Mountains Developers have destroyed much of the ecologically fragile farm and mountain land. One of the worst problems is erosion caused by steeply graded subdivision roads. At Hound Ears the grades run as high as 20 percent—8 percent higher than the law allows. A county planner has said that some of the Hound Ears land as well as that of Seven Devils should never have been touched by a bulldozer. Not one lot has been sold in some smaller subdivisions, but hundreds of roads scrape through the mountains. The planner estimates that 11,000 recently subdivided lots sit on Watauga's roadripped mountains. At Beech Creek, a developer graded a zig-zag through the mountain's steep north face. Because the winter sun doesn't hit the north slope, the slick wet roads washed away after the first winter, leaving the developer with a several thousand dollar loss and the mountain with an eroded skin. The planner estimates that hundreds of road miles like Beech Creek were abandoned without the first �The Land Development Rag 187 house ever being built. "There's no way to stop that road building—all we can do is require permits to keep the stone stabilized." Road erosion scrapes the mountain clean of its protective vegetation, causing floods and runoff. When the slope is scalped, rain water runs off without being absorbed by the streams and lakes. In a monograph for the Economic Development Agency, Ray Derrick estimates that after a one-inch rainfall, 28,000 gallons run off a one-acre dirt slope. This causes sedimentation, flooding, and the lowering of the water table. Robin Gottfried, in her master's thesis, says that sedimentation is a major effect of resort construction which bares the mountains of their natural vegetation for ski slopes, access roads and second homes. And at developments like Hound Ears, more trees than necessary are cleared so each lot owner can have a mountain view. Bacterial pollution in the rivers and streams has increased dramatically because the developments do not adequately provide for disposal of refuse and human wastes. Small developers can't afford the expensive treatment plants, while larger resorts like Beech were placed under a federal building moratorium because their sewage facilities are not adequate. Community Planner Tom Foxx says that even if the waste is treated properly, the effluents—treated chemical wastes—kill fish. "What we're going to have around here is pure dead water." At Sugar, septic tanks are on one-half acre lots. A local joke is that when Sugar Mountain people flush their commodes, the water table rises in the valley. But the people living at the base of Sugar in the Norwood Community aren't laughing. They resent the developers who caused them to lose their farms and peaceful valley. Most of the 30 farming families left in the hollow depended upon prized farmland for their food and clear streams for their water. All that has changed now. Sugar Mountain Corporation built its golf course adjacent to their land. Access roads to the resort traverse the natural water flow and eliminated some streams. While the remaining streams must absorb all of the water, Norwood people are flooded each spring. The farmers say they can no longer harvest a garden since the water floods their crops and destroys everything in its path. One farmer tried to sell his land, but nobody wants to buy property that is flooded each spring. �188 Colonialism in Modern America Another farmer said the streams won't hold a lizard now because they're polluted from Sugar's wastes. Every fish in the creek died, and the water became undrinkable even for the cows. Not only is sewage running down the stream beds, but the mountains themselves are crumbling into a mud and rock mixture which dams the streams. Sugar contractors laid tiling on the access roads to keep them from washing away. The tiling reroutes storm water directly onto Norwood gardens. "Before Sugar Mountain came here," said one woman, "we didn't have a drop of floodwater. Now it runs into my living room, kills the vegetables, and rises as high as the top of the pick-up's wheel base." But Sugar executives refuse to respond to the Norwood people. The woman whose garden was flooded called Sugar's executives to explain what was happening to her community as a result of Sugar's development. The executives did not assist Norwood, but Sugar's maintenance people did throw old wood, junk tires, and metal scraps against her fence which sits about 20 feet from the resort's golf course. "Early on," said the woman, "they tried to buy us out—now I reckon they're going to try and run us out." Noise from the snowmaking machines crashes into the valley late at night. "When they're making the snow you can't sleep. I never heard such a racket in all my life," said one woman. The ski-doos and trail bikes add to the racket and scare the animals. "It's not so peaceful any more." she said. Invading the Culture Like the problems at Norwood, the effects of tourism and resort development cannot all be measured by cost-efficiency analyses. Mountain living is packaged and huckstered so that business-filtered remnants of mountain culture can be purchased at tourist shops which capitalize on Al Capp myths of corn pone, white lightnin', and geehaw whimmeydiddles. "The new shops make you think hillbillies are old-withered-up people who just sit and make those whimmeydiddles all day long," said a young man who returned home to Watauga after completing college. "We aren't someone's vacation fantasy. What the Florida people �The Land Development Rag 189 and developers don't understand or care about is that their actions keep us from living the way we want/' Shopkeepers who long served their communities with food, farming equipment, and such have learned they can make more money by catering to free-spending tourists and second home dwellers. Richard Mast, county precinct captain and son of the former owner of Mast's General Store, described the changes in his family's recently sold store. "The new owners raised the prices so that local people can't afford to shop there any more and now what was once a community supply store and meeting place is a curio shop which sells pottery made from organic dirt and three-dollar baloney sandwiches which you have to make yourself." The new owners of Mast's store, also the oldest Exxon station in the United States, plan to build an 85-seat delicatessen, with funds provided by Exxon, to commemorate the Bicentennial. One burley tobacco grower wondered what use a high-priced restaurant would be to working farmers. Local community associations have been taken over by second-home dwellers. In Mast's Valle Crucis community, monthly get-togethers and pot luck dinners once provided a forum for community discussions. Second-home people flooded the summer meetings, elected one of their own as chairman, and cancelled winter meetings because they wouldn't be able to attend. Angry farmers labeled them the "Valle Crucis Cut-up," boycotted the meetings, and are forming a new community group. Mast says Valle Crucis is being torn apart. Local landmarks are also being torn apart. Dutch Creek Falls has been a Valle Crucis playground for as long as anyone can remember. Two years ago, the falls were bought by an attorney who is building a house on a platform he erected directly over the water. To make room for the house and equipment, the attorney scraped the area clean of its trees and brush. He also hung a no trespassing sign on the land. "The first thing those outsiders do is hang up a no trespassing sign," said a woman whose grandmother's name is carved on the Dutch Creek Elm. "Land that was used for hunting and shortcuts isn't ours to use anymore, and there are so many signs you need a plat to tell where you can go," she said. "I used to love this land, but now I'm ready to move out." �190 Colonialism in Modern America Politics As Usual Despite any evidence to the contrary, development agencies like the Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC), which are supposed to assist communities like Valle Crucis, actually pave the way for the current brand of tourism and recreation development. During the past nine years, the ARC has sunk a half million dollars in studies to evaluate the economic and social benefits of tourism and resort trade in Appalachia. Most of the studies warned the Commission to stay away from investments in tourism. ARC's preliminary study on the impact of tourism in Appalachia warned the ARC that the resort industry is one of "low pay and seasonal in nature." Later, a Spindletop Research Project confirmed the earlier conclusions and added that the tourist business creates a "service class of an entire body of people." The single study which supported tourism was sponsored by the Department of the Interior, whose primary concern was to alleviate urban congestion. The conclusions of ARC's own studies describe resort investment as a "poor financial risk and deterrent to mountain life." In 1974, the ARC released a film documenting bulldozed mountains sprayed with resort developments and quick-snack shops. Its public relations director said the film was made to "sensitize the region's people to abuses of tourism and resort development." But the bankrupt developers found the way to their governor's ear, and ARC's sensitizer was filed with the rest of their mountain of tourism studies. A new $100,000 study was called a "significant document making the case for public assistance to the troubled resort industry" by North Carolina's Secretary of Natural and Economic Resources, James Harrington, a former Sugar Mountain executive. The Twin Sentinel flatly disagreed with Harrington in an editorial which called "the ARC attempt to reinflate the resort balloon at public expense, the height of folly." Some critics call the problem of resort development more a matter of structure than of judgment. One observer said, "The ARC serves the narrow interests of specific industrialists under the guise of community development." The ARC implements its development programs through its development district, called �The Land Development Rag 191 Lead Regional Organizations (LRO). The LRO Board consists of mayors and county commissioners—no directly elected members. In the overall economic development program for Watauga and Avery counties, LRO Director Carl Tuttle wrote that the "tourism industry should be the single sector of the economy to make the largest gain." To make sure the prophecy is fulfilled, the LRO does not court small factories which would employ farmers during off-season because such development might interfere with the "scenic quality" required by resort developers. Even though Watauga's factories are generally cut-and-sew, low wage, labor-intensive, predominantly employing women, farming families agree that they provide a steady income which allows them to keep their land. Tuttle's new development plans support tourism and resort interests at farmers' expense. In his 34 recommendations for community development, Tuttle directly supported resorts while making not a single recommendation to assist the 950 farmers who live in Watauga. H. C. Moretz, director of the five-county community action program (WAMY), suggests that the reason the LRO pays no attention to farmers is that there are no farmers represented on the multi-county planning body. "Oh, they'll tell you that elected officials who sit on the LRO board represent all the people but the fact is that farmers and poor people have no direct access to it. Elected officials who sit on the Board are either small businessmen who financially gain by tourist trade or they're politically tied to realtors and developers." Farming is pretty well written off by the chamber of commerce and county commissioners. When asked about the demise of farming in Watauga County, the chamber of commerce director—who works for Tweetsie Railroad—said, "Don't get hung up on agriculture." But farmers and some planners are hung up on agriculture. Tom Foxx, chief planner with the North Carolina Department of Natural Resources & Community Development, says, "We must scrutinize whether public taxpayer dollars should be further used to subsidize the resort business." Foxx, paid by the state to provide local planning and management services, is at odds with LRO planners who ignore farmers. "The initial impact of resorts on tax revenues was positive," said Foxx. "Now the services required to sustain the developments, higher taxes, and land prices �192 Colonialism in Modern America are not worth the additional dollars collected." Foxx says resorts will increase their demand for services. "What we're doing is providing an inordinate amount of services to attract skiers and don't have money left for people who've lived here all their lives." Foxx has his first opportunity to stop taxpayer assistance to resort developments in a current thrust by Sugar and Beech Mountains to win federal-state-ARC financing of a water and sewage treatment plant. Sugar's President Hard figures that a government bailout is the only thing that will save the resorts from certain bankruptcy. Hard wants an area-wide $10 million waste treatment plant to serve Sugar, Beech, and the town of Banner Elk. Without Banner Elk's participation, the resorts are not eligible for federal largesse. Banner Elk's mayor says, "We need a sanitary district to relieve developers from having to operate their own sewer and water facilities." But the mayor privately fears that a sanitary district consolidation might be the first step toward resort rule. He's right. To obtain the necessary federal money, 51 percent of the property owners must sign a petition. Two categories of property owners live in the farming-resort communities: one is a freeholder—property owner, and the other is a resident freeholder—resident property owner. Since Beech and Sugar's resort owners greatly outnumber permanent Banner Elk citizens, freeholder voting status would plunge long-time residents into an automatic minority. The developers are looking down the road and want to incorporate the sanitary district into a township. Then they would be eligible for federal funds, revenue sharing, and state aid. "What we're planning is incorporation but it's not good to publicize the fact; it's too political," admits Sugar's publicity director. Since the developers want legalized liquor in dry Banner Elk, the first confrontation is likely to force a difficult change on the community. Hard says he doesn't want to lose control of sewage facilities or a power base. "If we create a city and give up control, we'd be creating a monster in Banner Elk that could kill us." Farmers near Banner Elk say their farms are more likely to be killed than the resort business. Valle Crucis and Matney �The Land Development Rag 193 residents, who live in the shadow of the resorts, approached Foxx and his planning board to stop developers from encroaching on their communities. They asked the zoning board to prohibit resort-type developments in their townships. But Foxx couldn't do much. "We could zone them residential—that allows golf courses and subdivisions—or industrial." North Carolina state law makes no provision for agricultural zoning. Foxx says alternatives for agricultural developments do exist, but the state never passed enabling legislation and officials aren't interested in lobbying for farm legislation. "The destruction of farming is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Officials read statistics of declining farm land and decide that farmers don't want to work the land any more. Then they assist developers which increases the farmers' problems, and go back and read the statistics," said Foxx. The county could provide incentives to maintain farmland as farmland and commit non-farm land to nonurban types of development. "If a 100 acre tract of land was not used for 20 years, it doesn't have to be taxed. Five-acre conservancy zones could be designated to prevent large developers from tearing up farmland and ecologically fragile wood-land. Nearly 50 percent of the county would fit into this type of zone," explained Foxx. But developers and county officials aren't interested in land preservation because high growth development brings in money. After the tourism boom, said Foxx, "Farmers lost the right to decide how they will use their land." Land Use Planning and the Small Farm Foxx believes the county can stop unchecked growth with the tools of land-use planning and regulatory ordinances. The Watauga County Planning Board recently imposed regulations to stop the developers' worst abuses: excessive subdivisions, building violations, erosion, and flooding. But regulations must be enforced to be effective, and even then they don't halt development—at best they slow it down. Government-controlled land-use planning has its own set of problems. Who will control land-use decisions? Will land planning create more uncontrolled growth or will it be structured to encourage cooperative development? Resort developers are against government intervention and call the free enterprise �194 Colonialism in Modern America system "its own plan." 'The value and use of land will be determined, rightfully, by the open market," said realtor Randy Phillips, who tripled his land investments in one year. Phillips says government control and planning raise the costs of development. County planners say strict government control will inhibit destructive growth and direct future land development so that it will benefit all county residents. Farmers generally want nothing to do with government control because, as one farmer said, "The right to private property is inviolate." But the developers' easy money gives them a higher right than the farmers. Whether government control or laissez-faire, farmers are locked out of the decision-making process and excluded from growth plans. "Maybe we ought to build land and market cooperatives which would benefit our kind of people instead of those scalawags who cross state lines to destroy our land," said a Watauga County farmer. "Maybe," he said, "we ought to ask ourselves if this growth thing is good for us." "Whither growth?" is a question never asked by developers or government planners. Developers think of land as a commodity and not as a resource. The government says the land resource should be developed for its optimum use. While the private developers and government planners appear to be at odds over what generally amounts to environmental issues, both eliminate farmers with their growth plans. The only real question is "how fast the elimination." The contradiction of specialized growth is implicit in the system of development. While the federal government does not have an overall land use and growth policy, grants for highway construction, sewer lines, water systems, and the like define land use. Government-paid definition is encouraged by some developers who, like Hard at Sugar, define land's highest use by its highest profit. Since growth agencies like the Appalachian Regional Commission only invest in projects with the greatest dollar return, private developers and government policy complement each other. Senator Morris Udall agrees when he says the politics of land use has given special interests "the upper hand." State planning is little better than federal planning. Special interests are acutely evident in North Carolina's defeated Mountain Area Management Act which was introduced in the 1974 N. C. Legislature. The act called for a 15-member mountain commission to oversee a comprehensive state-local plan which �The Land Development Rag 195 would designate specific areas of environmental concern and enforce orderly development through a system of permits. The political nature of the bill is evident; timber and utilities are exempted from regulation. The opposition, according to an article by Joy Lamm in Southern Exposure, called the bill "politically tied." "The state government is mistrusted by past action, condemnation powers would destroy an already weak tax base, lack of local input ensures that development would be tied to a small group of individuals and there is no provision for class action suits." County-controlled zoning fares no better in the test of planning by special interests. Zoning defines land use by the dollar. Foxx says the LRO planners predicted that "between 1970 and 2020 agriculture will drop from the present level of approximately 6,000 people to about 3,000 and then will stabilize at this reduced level." uWhat planners don't understand is that implementing policies like zoning for special interests will cause their statistics to come true/ 7 said Foxx. But many farmers don't intend to bow to statistics. "The land is our frontier," said a farmer, "and we're planning to get up a posse." The posse is forming slowly and deliberately. "To survive we need a cheaper way to buy supplies, and markets to sell our produce," explained a farmer whose wife took a cut-and-sew job and whose children help cut their burley tobacco. "What we've done is organize a Farmer's Market to sell some of our extra crops." The market was created as an economic alternative for farmers who don't have outlets for their vegetables. Most of the 80 farmers who sell their produce through the market own small farms worked primarily for family consumption. Now the market allows them to sell their excess and plant additional crops in anticipation of a cash market. "Last year," said one market regular, "I made $3,000 during the selling season. It certainly helped out." The market costs $2 to join and a flat 50 cents fee per selling day. Food stamps are accepted by sellers who undercut supermarket prices by ten cents per item. Quality control is sometimes a problem since the group doesn't set standards, but most of the vegetables are graded by the growers. "We can't let bad quality vegetables slip in because we'll lose our customers. We're still in the organizing stages about things like that," said one of the planners of the market. �196 Colonialism in Modern America One farmer thought organizational problems stemmed from the fact that the market was conceived and implemented by nonfarmers and picked up by the New River Resources Conservation Development Committee. "It may never have gotten started without outside help, but we must make decisions about the market's future." The consensus is that farmers must have an outlet for their crops and access to equipment. Market members say they should be more tightly organized and focus on one issue at a time. "The first thing we need is a permanent facility so the vegetables won't wilt in the sun and we can sell refrigerated cheese and meat," commented one market organizer. "Then we should buy a truck to deliver produce regularly to shops." Cutting production costs is high on the issue list. Common purchases of grading or spraying machines would reduce expenses and create greater purchasing power for the entire community. "After that we can think about farmingsupport industry like canneries, mills, and supply stores," said a farmer who has been nearly wiped out by the tax increases and the rapidly increasing prices of equipment. "We've got the problems of all small farmers in the country and the added affection of resort developers," he said. Agricultural extension agents could be helpful, with the organizational experience they've gained from the 20-year-old cooperatives which sell specific items like sheep and cattle to large eastern markets. Their wool and cattle cooperatives generally involve larger farms, but the county agent said, "If a man has one cow and it meets our standards, he can sell it through us for a better market price than on the open market." The cooperatives, like the Farmer's Market, return more money per pound to the farmers than the open market while saving customers money. Looking down the road, market organizers see several phases of action which must occur simultaneously. The first is a transition to high yield, not so labor-intensive specialty crops. "The problem is that we're not competitive with mid-western farms. Our mountain land is not suitable for mechanized farming, so we have to go with things like cabbage or burley tobacco." Second, a combination of crops would prevent farmers from being wiped out if one crop didn't make it. Third, a more tightly organized Farmer's Market, with capital and equip- �The Land Development Rag 197 merit shared by the participants, would free money for other things. Fourth, outlets must be found for the produce. "Community Development Corporations like Chicago's Fedco and the Cooperative League in Washington, D.C. would be direct connections for our produce." Fifth, farming-support industries like cooperative canneries, supply stores, and mills would increase the markets, return money to the community, and allow farmers to grow more. "If we get this underway, we wouldn't have to work for the resorts or cut-and-sew places/' said a woman who works as a maid for Sugar. And finally, the resort developers must be forced through community organization and county government to halt their farmland gobbling and ensure a more equitable use of tax dollars. "The Farmer's Market is a way to get a handle on all these problems, but we've a long way to go," said a market member. Some tax and land plans could be implemented through the, Farmer's Market. The "circuit breaker" system rebates taxes to farmers if property taxes exceed a fixed percentage of income. If no taxes are paid, a rebate is paid by the state treasury. In Michigan, the circuit breaker is tied to state and local planning. The Internal Revenue Code, in occasional cases, is used to preserve farmland. Section 501(a)(3) governs the rights and responsibilities of certain non-profit corporations. Groups have incorporated themselves, gained non-profit status from the Internal Revenue Service, and donated land or money to an incorporated land trust. The trust is committed to maintaining the land as farmland and leases the land back to farmers. Because of the non-profit aspects of the trust, the land is not taxed and the donor receives tax advantages from the transaction. The problem, of course, is giving up the land to the corporation. In California, the Northern California Land Trust intends to use its land base as a vehicle to help migrant farmers live and produce on their own land—land owned by the trust but theirs to work and pass on to their children. Land banks are another land planning device. In British Columbia and on Prince Edward Island, the land bank system allows the state to purchase farm land. Instead of a retiring farmer selling his land to a corporation, the state buys his land and leases (or sells) it to another farmer. �198 Colonialism in Modern America The problems caused by corporate developers are not new to the mountains. Company towns used to mean coal towns which served the interests of the coal operators. Now a new set of corporate strip miners are disturbing the land and organizing labor around their resort-oriented needs. Mountain people are again going to be forced to fight for the right to decide how to use theor own land. County officials say that planned land-use regulations will block future over-development. They have hired professional planners to carry out what they perceive the public will to be. Who decides what that will is, and how conflicting demands on land-use will be accommodated in a rational land-use policy are decisions which cannot remain in the hands of the owners of the company towns if farming is to survive. NOTE ^Yolande DeB. McCurdy (Robin Gottfried), "An Ecosystematic Analysis of the Vegetation of Hanging Rock State Park, Danbury, North Carolina," MA in Ecology, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 1976. �by "You an to the local businesses, set up schools and other institutions which to do the job and and You an to in their 'place,' It's On the I a all of us. As to for are I for me old 1 can get the are on in to in of you is to by as I to On the the it's a to its or in of in I are I of my to at i» in fit is A a He is the of �200 Colonialism in Modern America heard, and felt, over the past four years. Tremendous changes are coming to the mountains—whether we want those changes or not. I hope some of you are already aware of these changes and I hope you are determined to participate in these events so we can all begin to influence the people who rule this country; for I came here today to talk about taking political and economic control of our country. Before I talk about how people might begin to take power, I want to say a few words about Berea College and about the changes which I feel sure all of you are experiencing as you spend time at this place. For those who are from Appalachia, who love it, and who want to remain, I'm sure each trip back home is a hard one; for the more formal education we get the more we tend to be isolated from the old ways and from our own people. Perhaps we need to examine why this isolation takes place, for I don't believe it is an accidental thing. If I understand Berea's aims today, you students before me are the cream of this year's crop. You are the best-read, most likely to succeed in the Berea Way, of those thousands who applied to come to this lonely and sometimes barren ridge. Those of you who stay here for four years and obtain a degree can be expected to go out and become teachers, doctors, scientists, engineers—the people who help to keep this country prosperous. Those of you who have successful careers and stay in the mountains can be expected to become leaders of Appalachia. I hope not, for I believe we have too many leaders in Appalachia already. There are too many now who believe they know what is best for the area and for the people. Most of these so-called leaders or experts are trained as I am trained, and as you will be trained, to think only as middle class people with middle class values and middle class ways. Because of this, I would say that many of Appalachia's problems result from the fact that its leaders are middle class and formally educated. Let me explain further. Back home, wherever that is, and probably within sight of this building, an older culture is dying before our eyes. The physical changes are the most obvious; the old cabins, nestled in a quiet cove with surrounding chicken coop and barn, are almost �Education and Exploitation 201 gone. For the expanding middle class their way of life differs little from that of middle America. The differences which still exist are mental ones: nostalgic memories stirred by church hymns or traditional music, the old friendships built before mills and roads brought a new way of dealing with one's neighbors. But for the working class, the unemployed, the subsistence farmer, the people who barely get by, the old ways and values are still a living thing; and the relationships based on an agrarian society are not so easily discarded despite the invasion of roads and schools and TV sets. Our real problem in Appalachia is not whether the old culture will die—only time will decide that now—but whether mountain people can begin to find ways to deal directly with the political and economic forces which are at work in Appalachia and in the rest of the country. If Appalachians problems are to be solved, it will be done because we understand our past and because we begin to find out who really controls this country. We need to know who really has economic and political power in Appalachia. America began to move away from Appalachia with the utilization of the steam engine, the building of the railroad, the opening of the West, and the coming of the automobile. Because the terrain was rugged and difficult to penetrate by modern means of transportation, it was easier for businessmen and speculators to go west, to gain their tremendous profits in the drive toward western seashores. But Appalachia was not forgotten for long. It was too rich, too valuable, and too close to the existing centers of industry in the Northeast. By the late 1890's the robber barons who made their fortunes in rails, steel, textiles, and coal began to turn their attention to new areas in their search for raw materials and cheap labor. Appalachia, in all its unspoiled splendor, was close at hand, for the area had huge attractive reserves of coal, timber, and water. Rail lines, which had paralleled the major ranges and opened up the broad river valleys years before, began to penetrate the deeper regions of the mountains. In these rugged hills, the oldest in the world, the robber barons found tremendous riches. In eastern Kentucky alone, thirty-three billion tons of coal would eventually be surveyed. Over the steep slopes from New York to southern Georgia were stands of magnificent virgin �202 Colonialism in Modern America timber, perhaps the most luxuriant growth of hardwood timber on the American continent. It was a land of great beauty, a wilderness island in the midst of America's industrial push west. And just as the early pioneers and land speculators devised ways to steal this land from the Indians, the northern industrialists began to devise ways to steal it from our ancestors. The opening up of Appalachia in the quest for raw materials and cheap labor was not unique. Across the Atlantic in their corporate offices European businessmen began to look for more markets for their wares. The targets they chose were Asia, Africa, and Indochina. The race was on across the world. For as industrial production rose to new heights, new markets were needed to supply raw materials, cheap labor, and more profits. The first industrial incursions into this region were tenuous ones, but over a period of time they were successful. My family, and yours, helped to make them that way. In the coal mines, lumber camps, paper mills, and textile sweat shops of the Southern mountains, our ancestors helped to develop this region with their labor and their lives. My folks worked for the paper mills and textile plants. Your families may have worked in the mines or mills. No matter. The results are the same. They worked for it, but we don't own it. Today, if we look across the region, we can see the process still going on. The names may differ from the past—U.S. Steel, Ford Motor Company, Standard Oil, Mead Corporation, American Enka, Eastman Kodak; the names may differ, but the process remains the same. The people who labored to build this country do not own it. Neither do their descendants. We are a people with some material benefits, but we are still at the beck and call of the rich 10 percent of our population who still control 90 percent of the capital wealth. And one percent of that 10 percent actually controls how all the wealth is spent. Impossible in a democracy? Yes, it would be impossible if we lived in a democracy. But we don't. Much of this is probably not new to you. I didn't come here to bore you with facts but to ask some questions which I think you will all face very soon. My questions have to do with what we can do to change these facts, if you think they need to be changed. Historically, people who wanted change in this country have �Education and Exploitation 203 worked with the people who are most obviously oppressed: with the union movement, with Black people, and with other oppressed minorities around the country. But so far all of these attempts to build a national movement have failed because people have been bought off, leaders have been killed, or the present system has found a way to meet the immediate needs raised by the protestors. Let's look briefly at some of these attempts. In the late 1800's the labor movement in this country developed along two radically different lines. The first branch was the traditionally-oriented trade unions or guilds, established along authoritarian lines and interested in obtaining immediate material benefits for their members. They wanted a larger piece of the pie, and they were willing to live alongside the bosses if they could get some pie. Out of this group came the American Federation of Labor and the Congress of Industrial Organizations. The other branch was quite different. The best known was the Industrial Workers of the World, popularly known as the "Wobblies." It was the most militant union industrial America had ever seen. It called for one big union of working people and for the workers to control and own all phases of production. It wanted no bosses. "This land is ours," the union said. "We built it, we should control it, lock, stock and barrel." Its tactics were the boycott, the strike, the lock-out, and, if necessary, industrial sabotage. "If we can't have it, it won't exist," was the cry. And as the union chapters spread across the land, they became a threat which could not be ignored. Eventually the strikes were defeated, the leaders jailed or killed, and the members blacklisted from any jobs. By the early 1920's the Wobblies were finished as an industrial power. Yet today many of their ideas are echoed in the demands for community control of police and schools and industry. The Wobblies failed and they were destroyed, but their ideas live on. In the 1930's with the Great Depression, a militant mood began to build again in the country. Big business and the federal government were forced to take action to overhaul a collapsing system. With the reorganization of the federal government and the reforms pushed through by Roosevelt, the last militant drive of the labor unions ended in defeat. The reforms were just �204 Colonialism in Modern America enough to satisfy people and to keep them from tearing the whole thing down. With the National Labor Relations Act and the right to collective bargaining given to the unions, the last attempt to build militant unions ended. FDR's recognition of labor's right to organize was a short-term boom for the unions; but in the long run it meant that the unions could be controlled, channeled, and directed by big business through the courts and through arbitration and contracts. FDR's ploy to save the system by changing a little part of it succeeded. The American trade unions, already rigid and authoritarian, bought a larger piece of the pie and none of the action. Mountain people—in Detroit, Cabin Creek, Blair Mountain, Gastonia, Elizabethton—fought for their unions during this time. Yet today these unions have sold them out. In the 1950's and 1960's Black people began to build a movement which had potential for a national coalition of poor people. Instead of just calling for more material benefits, Black people called for liberation from psychological oppression and then for economic equality. Organizations such as the NAACP, CORE, and SCLC began the fight. It was brought to a new level by the demands of SNCC and later the Black Panthers and other Black groups. And just as the Wobblies were attacked, so were Black leaders. Over the past few years we have seen Black leaders killed, jailed, or driven into political exile because of their beliefs and because they were willing to stand up for their beliefs. In the mountains things were no different. In the early 1960's a group of poor mountain people was formed in eastern Kentucky known as the Appalachian Committee for Full Employment. It was composed of unemployed miners who were trying to force their union and the coal operators to pay them full union wages. During the same time that Black people were demanding social and economic equality, poor mountain whites were making many of these same demands of the federal government. The methods chosen by the government to deal with both groups were the same—the War on Poverty. For in the same way the government bought off militant people in the 1930's, the War on Poverty was established to keep this country's poor quiet. The results can be seen around the country where federallyfunded projects have attempted to check, channel, and thwart �Education and Exploitation 205 the drive of America's poor for political and economic rights. Where the government has been unwilling or unable to step in, the large private foundations have provided financial backing, knowledge, and, most importantly, guidance. But while these programs have often diverted people's attention from some basic needs to the more easily controlled tasks of grants, paperwork, red tape, surveys, etc., the basic alienation of the American poor remains—along with their desire for drastic change. The reasons the poverty programs failed could be held to faulty reasoning: It's not really possible to save this system by reforming it. It might have failed because of a lack of will power on the part of most Americans. But I would say the program failed because of lack of trust. No government in history has paid its own people to overthrow it. Many poor people, either instinctively or consciously, realized this and never trusted the motives and designs of the federal bureaucrats and politicians who run the program. This has been especially true in the mountains where people are traditionally distrustful of any government. Part of this distrust is based on years of being on the bottom and seeing all kinds of promises but very little action. Poor people, because of their economic experiences, look for action—not talk. In order to survive they must become experts in judging people's motives and designs. They may not always make the best decision for themselves in the long run; but they are usually accurate in judging who has the power and who will use the axe, if and when it falls. What does all this mean to you people as students at Berea College? I think it has a lot to do with you, for many of you will probably end up being the people who will attempt to control the lives of Appalachia's poor folks. Earlier I talked of how the northern industrialists came into Appalachia and began to exploit its natural wealth and cheap labor. That trend continues, and it will continue for the foreseeable future unless there is an abrupt shift in how people act in the mountains. It's not enough to simply own a region if you cannot control it and then exploit it. In order to do this, you need people �206 Colonialism in Modern America in the middle who will do the dirty work. You need an educated class willing to run the local businesses, set up schools and other institutions which train people to do the job and keep their minds and mouths shut. You need an educated class to keep poor people in their "place." Around the world wherever empires are built, you can see the same process at work. An educated class is built from the native people—a class whose loyalties are not to their own people but to the people who own the region. These educated people, the middle men, are paid well with material benefits, money, status, and power. And they rule with an iron fist. Once such a system is established, it's not necessary for the rich folks to pass down orders to their stooges. The stooges already know what their self interests are and they will protect them at all costs. But where do you recruit an educated class and how do you train them? It's my belief that Berea College and other colleges in Appalachia have fulfilled this function since they were established. Berea College was founded by missionaries who believed they had a divine purpose to bring enlightenment and education to this rugged land. But education in our society means control, not freedom. It means a way of transferring values from one group to another so that the first group can keep the second under control. The missionaries, or their supporters, ended up by controlling the people they were trying to save from eternal damnation. This was true in India with the British, in Latin America with the Spanish, and in Appalachia with our own missionaries. By setting up an educated class of native people who are trained to be doctors, lawyers, teachers, and social workers, a larger society can control a smaller one or one without political power. How does Berea help in all of this? I think it's fairly evident. By training the people who have functioned best in mountain schools, Berea helps to insure a steady supply of people who will take over the reins of power when the existing local leadership dies. By teaching students a new set of values, values based on the dominant middle-class American society, this college insures that people can be co-opted and bought off like most other people in this society who are formally educated and �Education and Exploitation 207 middle class. This system will always allow a few people to fight their way to the top, for those few are needed to control those who are on the bottom. Remember this fact, and remember it well, fellow Bereans: We got where we are by climbing over the backs and bodies of our brothers and sisters who now work in the mills, mines, and factories, who fight in Vietnam, or who sit jobless at home and wonder what tomorrow will bring. I don't know what your reaction is to these thoughts. I don't mind anger. I hope you do have some kind of reaction. I also hope you don't feel guilty if you find some truth in what I say. Guilt is the traditional means of escape for the American liberal who rushes out into the cold world to help poor folks, whether poor folks want help or not. The problem is not with poor folks. The problem is with the rich folks in this country who control the wealth and then control us. And part of the problem is with the middle class who help to perpetuate this evil, racist system which we now have. We have the potential as a people to build a democratic society in this country. If we want to build a democratic society we must begin to figure out how the present system works. Then we must begin to build a new society which will serve people, not exploit them. ��lOtflNOD JO 3DNVN31NIVW 3H1 �nI• �IV: of a In the and trol of and Is the the of in and the act to of the and and and the the the the and In the In of and as the Jim of art. the to the is to the to is or re- pressed. Jr., A In of and the the and and the the ity" the of and of the the In and the and . .". a and his the the In 'The at to and and In and the "Coal the to of in the of of a of a of re™ �210 as a Phil to the the in in the TV A it has in the the an the the to of and of and to • . * • ''' ; r f~ "" Y ' �It* ��by James G. Branscome on of to the and has to be the Its a on the the a all a to the a on TV. All of on If the on the to his be an TV In the Jy a his of of taste." of the fe) a to he the or on This by a in of Fit is a �212 Colonialism in Modern America boycotts and perhaps even throw dog dung at Eva Gabor as she emerged from her studio. They might even go a step further and deal with that hillbilly maligning patriot, Al Capp. But with this, as all things Appalachian, silence. America is allowed to continue laughing at this minority group, because on this America agrees: Hillbilly ain't beautiful. The treatment given by the media to Appalachia is only one example of the massive failure of America's institutions for over a century to meet the needs of the people of the region. From government at all levels to churches, private welfare agencies, schools, colleges, labor unions, foundations, newspapers, corporations, ad infinitum, the region has received an unequal share of exploitation, neglect, unfulfilled promises, and misguided assistance. This is not to deny that America is interested in Appalachia. It has been interested for some time, in the peculiar American way, in Appalachia's worth to industry, of course; only erratically has it been interested in the plight of the people. General Howard of the Freedman's Bureau is said to have convinced Lincoln that he ought to try to do something for the poor mountaineers after the Civil War. The New Deal brought the then rather progressive Tennessee Valley Authority to one part of the region, but TVA's recently developed capacity to burn lower-grade strip-mine coal brought the hellish human and material waste of that process to Central Appalachia. John Kennedy and his brother Robert both professed an interest in the hillbilly and his vote; and eventually, under Lyndon Johnson, their interest was translated into the Appalachian Regional Commission, a unique political and economic development agency. But, as Harry Caudill remarked, its assignment was "one of the most awesome tasks since Hercules cleaned the Augean stables." It is especially Herculean when one applies some good American economic analysis: The agency was given about onetwentieth of the amount of money it takes to fight the Vietnam war for one year and told to use the amount over a six-year period to correct almost two hundred years of abuse to areas of a thirteen-state region! Now, for the riddle: If 80 percent of that money was spent on highway construction, how interested is America in the nineteen million people who occupy the territory the Commission described in 1964 as "an island of poverty in a sea of affluence"? This is not to deny that the Commission has �Annihilating the Hillbilly 213 had a positive influence on the region. Given the parameters in which it had to work, it has made many investments in public facilities and increased the accountability of state governments to their Appalachian sections. If Congress extends the program and significantly increases its funding for human resource programs, the Commission may be able to bring to the Appalachian poor some of the services even ghetto residents have come to accept as normal. There are some big ifs in this, not the least of which is the critical question today about the relationship between institutions and people: // an institution today had unlimited funding and unlimited maneuverability, could it bring to people the services they need without destroying the kind of life they want to live? If the ability of institutions to respond to people's needs is judged on the basis of the Federal government's enforcement of the Mine Health and Safety Act of 1969, then the answer to this question is NO! Loud and Clear. The death of 78 coal miners in Farmington, West Virginia, in November, 1968, led to the passage of that act, which is the strictest mine safety legislation ever to get through Congress and be signed by a President. The public outrage over Farmington gave government one of its few opportunities to wrestle successfully with the powerful American coal-oil conglomerates. But something did not work: Either there is no will or there is no desire by the bureaucracies (the institutions) of the Federal government to go to the mat with the conglomerates. Perhaps their interests are so inseparable that no contest is ever possible. In any case, since the disaster more than 700 miners have been killed in the mines, and more than 10,000 have been crippled or injured. There has been no public outcry to avenge the deaths of these men. Moreover, the Social Security Administrations's own Bureau of Disability Insurance provides some statistics to indicate how the bureaucracy of one fundamental institution—governmentdeals with one crisis that the 1969 Act sought to meet: compensation for miners disabled by "black lung" contracted after long years and long hours inside the mines. The national average of claims under the black lung provisions of the act processed by the Bureau of Disability Insurance is 43 percent. However, only 22 percent of the claims from eastern Kentucky and 24 percent of those from West Virginia had been processed by early November, 1970. And 52 percent of the processed claims of West �214 Colonialism in Modern America Virginia miners have been denied; 71 percent of Kentucky miners have been denied. The figure for claims denied for the rest of the nation is only 20 percent. If one reflects on the fact that in the past seventy years there have been 101,000 mine deaths, a number larger than the total of miners now working in Appalachia, and double the number of Vietnam deaths, then an inability of the government to enforce regulations, which are mild by international comparison, strikes one as not speaking well for the capacity of political institutions to use the very arena of action which is theirs by democracy's mandate, or for the American public's capacity to care for anything more than the dramatic, never the substantial. And with the death of thirty-eight men in the Finley mines near Hyden, Kentucky, on December 30, 1970, the nation was once again reminded about the plight of miners in Appalachian coal pits. The President of the United States himself announced that he would have visited the scene of the disaster—if it had not been for "the bad weather." (Yet no airports in the region were closed.) The more important visits (those of inspectors from the Bureau of Mines) had not been made on schedule some few days before the disaster in order to check correction of violations of the 1969 act cited on earlier visits. It was the same old refrain: New priority guidelines for violations under the new act had just come down from Washington to the bureau's regional office in eastern Kentucky, necessitating a new schedule of visits; the office itself was short-handed because some of the inspectors had taken "Christmas leave"; the mine operators complained that some provisions of the act were a peril to the safety of miners and mines; no one, not even the inspectors, understood all of the provisions of the act, etc., etc. In any event, the Finley mines were permitted to operate up to the disaster on December 30. They did so in large part because an inspection required under the 1969 act was subjected to the administration of a bureaucracy which, perhaps unwittingly but in fact, vetoed the will and intention of the Congress and the President and—if representative government is still taken seriously—the will of the people. Thirtyeight men were dead. And the litany of charges: Families of the dead miners were exploited by funeral operators, insurance claim men, and government officials; cover-ups and doubledealings and politics were involved in the "hearings" to inquire into the disaster; illegal "prime-cord" and "dynamite" had (had �Annihilating the Hillbilly 215 not) been used in the mines; an inspector "who didn't want his name used" said a simultaneous explosion ten times the legal limit was set off when the men were killed. The complete failure of the American corporate structure to accept even a charitable responsibility for the region that it has raped so successfully is hardly arguable. Since men like General Imboden in the late nineteenth century went before the state legislatures to argue that "within the imperial domain of Virginia, lie, almost unknown to the outside world and not fully appreciated by their owners, vaster fields of coal and iron than in all England, maybe, than all Europe," the American corporate community has wrenched resources estimated at a worth of nearly one trillion dollars from the mountains. While these companies pay some of the highest dividends of any company in the world to their already wealthy shareholders, the communities in Appalachia where those resources originated survive on a subsistence economy, if "survive" is the proper verb here. Often more than half of the money in circulation comes from state and federal welfare coffers. This fact alone tells us something about the American Way, if not the American Dream. Three months after the June 30, 1970, deadline for reducing the amount of hazardous dust in the mines as required by the 1969 legislation, 2800 of the 3000 underground mine operators had not complied. These same companies have continually opposed severance taxes on coal and medical benefits for the more than 100,000 disabled miners who suffer permanent lung damage from poorly maintained mines. Apparently when these corporate institutions of American free enterprise become incredibly wealthy, they cannot be expected to have the conscience even to allow government to pay for the damage they have caused. Somewhere that "pursuit of selfish interest accruing benefits to all" went astray in Appalachia. It has always been asserted with pride that America takes great interest in its children. "Dr. Spock" has been a best-seller for over a decade. But his "child-dominated" society has interest only in certain children. Of the more than 925,000 poor children under six in Appalachia, as estimated by the office of Economic Opportunity, only about 100,000 receive cash benefits in their homes from Aid to Dependent Children or other similar welfare programs. The national participation rate of children in Head Start programs decreased three percent between 1967 and �216 Colonialism in Modern America 1969; the Appalachian participation decreased 15 percent. The greatest decrease in Appalachia, significantly, was in full-year programs, those regarded as most beneficial to poor children. What other group in the country received the benefits from the cutbacks in Appalachia is unimportant here; that "hillbillies" were not on the priority list is obvious. In the area of prenatal and infant care, the situation in Appalachia is even more alarming. Examinations of children in several areas of the region have shown that as many as 70 percent have "parasitic infestation" (the euphemism for "worms"), one of the causes contributing to Appalachians unusually large number of retarded and "slow" children. "Worms" abound in the miserable shacks and grassless yards American free enterprise has put aside for the hillbillies. If the Appalachian infant mortality rate were reduced at the same rate as East Germany's in a fiveyear period (as reported by the World Health Organization), the lives of more than 1,000 children a year could be preserved. In certain areas of the region, as a matter of fact, the situation worsened over a decade. In Lamar County, Alabama, for example, the infant mortality rate rose from 32.5 percent to 40.9 percent in ten years. The rate in Hancock County, Tennessee, rose from 21.4 percent to 42.2 percent in the same time period. While increased attention to child development at the national and regional level promises to better the situation, for many the help comes too late. Perhaps if it were possible to estimate the number of mountain children who would be alive and healthy if Appalachia had received and retained a more equitable share of the nation's wealth, certain institutions could be persuaded more easily to invest in saving children. Until the case is made, however, we all labor under the curse of the prophets and the admonitions of the poets (increasingly, it seems, the only sane people) that the final judgement on civilizations and their institutions rests on how well they treat their children, who are—in appeal at least—the "least of these." The Appalachian child who makes it to school does not find the institution America has charged with equipping youth with basic "survival" skills any better prepared to meet his needs. The inability and unwillingness of local government to tax the property and extractive resources of large corporations have resulted in an educational system in Appalachia that can only be compared with that in the so-called "underdeveloped" nations. Add to �Annihilating the Hillbilly 217 this the fundamental resistance of middle-class teachers to acknowledge the unique cultural heritage of the Appalachian youth, and you have a laboratory for studying one of the classic historical struggles between a nation intent on erasing a minority from its midst and a people intent on preserving their identity and lifestyle at any cost to themselves. In an Appalachian school, the middle-class aspiring teacher is just as insistent that the student be aggressive, obedient, and joyless—in short, everything that his culture tells him he is not—as is the teacher in the Bureau of Indian Affairs school on a reservation. No wonder, then, that as many as 65 percent of the students drop out of school before graduation, a figure 25 percent higher than the national average. Responding to the fiscal needs of the Appalachian educational system alone is overwhelmingly beyond the capacity of government agencies as they are presently funded. In 1967, for example, the Office of Education estimated that the construction needs of the thirteen Appalachian states represented over 42 percent of the total school construction needs of the entire country. It would require the additional expenditure of $363 million annually just to raise the per pupil expenditures of Appalachian schools to the national average. Title I of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, designed to increase the amount of funds available for the teaching of disadvantaged students, will spend more money on an equal number of students in the schools of Westchester, New York, where the number of poor students is about three percent of the student body, than it will in a county in Appalachia where more than half of the student body is poor. Talent Search, a special college recruitment and placement program funded by Congress for high-risk students, spends only 3.8 percent of its money in Appalachia as compared to the 10 percent the region deserves. Simply to make the Appalachian educational system equal in educational resources to the nation would require a political miracle at a time when no miracle workers are to be found. While Appalachia is heavily populated with institutions of higher learning supported by various religious denominations and state governments, the region's students are no better served than in the secondary institutions. Neither is the region's need for professional and para-professional manpower. No institution of American society, in fact, is more divorced from Appalachia than the higher educational system residing within it. �218 Colonialism in Modern America Forced by accrediting agencies, visiting boards, and hundreds of other pressures to maintain a facade of "academic excellence" and "a sound liberal arts education," usually with Christ thrown in somewhere, the church-supported schools spend little time thinking about the community below their own mountainside. Their emphasis on admitting Appalachian students is so small, their tuition so high, and pressure so intense from church supporters outside the region to admit their sons and daughters, that most of these colleges have an inordinately high percentage of students from states like New Jersey. Certainly to these colleges, "Christian" education has nothing to do with serving the victims of Caesar's educational system. The "open door" policies of state universities are often, in actuality, "revolving doors" for the Appalachian student. Once the student is admitted and the fees collected (either from him or the state), the more aggressive and well-trained student from another section of the state or nation, and the freshman composition teacher, can be expected to send the Appalachian student scurrying home. In January, 1968, the National Association of State Universities and Land Grant Colleges summed up the record of their members in the region as follows: "To maintain quality they raised student charges substantially, turned away qualified students, limited enrollments, and refused urgently needed public services." The regional universities and colleges place little emphasis on promoting a regional consciousness on the part of their students. In fact, there is not at present a single Appalachian studies program in the region which could begin to rival the offerings in Far Eastern studies or astronomy. One, Eastern Kentucky University in Richmond (which in reality is in "Blue Grass," not "eastern," Kentucky), prides itself on its training and research in law enforcement and police work. All this continues and intensifies a channeling process begun by the elementary teacher to send the Appalachian student—ashamed of his background and ill-equipped to meet the needs of his region—into middle-class society outside the region. The sixteen-year prpcess of credentializing that the student has been subjected to, becomes finally a ticket to the world of Dick and Jane, Support-Your Local-Police, and the affluence of America built at Appalachian expense. So a region that needs more than 200,000 college graduates—a minimum of 5,000 physicians, many thousands of �Annihilating the Hillbilly 219 nurses, teachers, businessmen, government leaders, ad infinitum— finds no help in another of America's institutions. The young Appalachian left behind by the higher educational system is destined to be the object of a number of complicated channeling devices. The male youth, if he can pass the examinations, is eligible for one of the more obvious youth channeling programs in the country, the Army. Selective Service does not maintain records on Appalachians as a group, but the number in the service is estimated to be higher than their percentage in the population because the armed forces represent the only opportunity available to many young mountain men to be assimilated into mainline America. Recent Department of Defense figures report that West Virginia led the nation in per capita Vietnam deaths. Twenty-five West Virginians per 100,000 population had been killed, compared to seventeen per 100,000 nationally. For the youth who seeks opportunity and training in some special opportunity program, such as the Job Corps, the fate may not be a great deal more encouraging. Because of the Job Corps' resistance to establishing a center especially for Appalachian youth, the mountain youth are sent to camps, both within and outside the region, where the population may be largely urban and black. Combining his unfamiliarity with urban life and blacks with his affinity for home and family, one can easily understand why the Appalachian youth drops out of the program in equal frequency with his Indian counterpart. Even if he lasts the program out, according to Joint Action in Community Service (the agency that contracts with the Job Corps to place and counsel graduates), it is very difficult to find him a job or to locate a person or agency willing to assist him in the mountains. For the youth who has not dropped out of school by the ninth grade and who has no prospect of attending college, vocational training represents the only channel open to him. Many find it a wicked channel indeed. Three years ago the Education Advisory Committee of the Appalachian Regional Commission reported that half of all vocational training programs in the region consisted of agriculture and home economics—areas in �220 Colonialism in Modern America which there were almost no job openings. Since that report the Commission and the states have required all 235 vocational programs which they have funded to teach job-relevant skills. While only half of the schools are now open and no thorough evaluation has been reported, it is expected that the schools will be better than their predecessors. As late as 1968, however, the West Virginia Commission on Higher Education reported that only about 18 percent of the students in that state had access to vocational training. Given the fact that post-high school vocational training is still not available to the majority of Appalachian youth, this major channel of supposed opportunity still has a long way to go to overcome the serious handicaps it has represented in the past. And with improvement, vocational education's role may be to channel all the so-called disadvantaged students into neat slots, thereby diminishing not only the student but vocational education as well. Additionally, so long as vocational school graduates must leave the mountains to find jobs, the region will remain a loser. It is already estimated that 900,000 high school graduates will have to leave the region to find jobs in the 1970's. They will thus become the people the cities do not want and the people the region cannot afford to lose. The fact that a mountain youth takes advantage of the opportunity to finish high school and apply to college does not guarantee that the tentacles of the system will let him go. For instance, one of the high-risk students I taught in the Upward Bound program at Berea College applied and was accepted in the fall at that college. During the preceding spring he was approached by a recruiter for the FBI who gave him a hard sell on the benefits of working for the Bureau in Washington. He dropped the idea of college and is now a low-paid clerk at FBI headquarters. Since this incident I have checked with school personnel in other areas of the region and found that intensive recruitment of high school graduates in rural areas is now carried out by the FBI and other government agencies which are not finding recruits for their clerk and typist posts in urban high schools. The law, it seems, has a long arm and no qualms about modern forms of impressment. Most high school dropouts (except those who marry and somehow find work or welfare payments) and unemployed high �Annihilating the Hillbilly 221 school graduates eventually end up being forced to migrate to find work. In West Virginia, for instance, 70 percent of the young people leave before they reach the age of 24. Usually referred to as "migrants" instead of more accurately as economic refugees, these youth join the more than 3,000,000 other mountaineers who have preceded them to northern cities such as Cincinnati, Chicago, Indianapolis, and Detroit since World War II. If they have a skill and happen to move during a period of relative economic prosperity or are willing to accept a job run by the stopwatch and a minimum-wage employer, as many do, their chances for survival are good. If, on the other hand, they have to move in with kin in the "back home" ghetto, the situation is different. The unemployed and unassimilated mountain youth finds himself in a bewildering ghetto that defies description and usually comparison with the ghetto life of other minorities. He also finds that in the city there is one thing more unacceptable than a black man—a hillbilly, a ridgerunner, a briarhopper. For the first time in its history America has recognized him as a cultural minority. If he ends up in juvenile court for stealing hubcaps, he is offered leniency with his promise to go "back home." Judges make this offer to youth whose families may have been in the city for three generations and can only consider themselves Cincinnatians or Chicagoans. If the mountain youth enters school, studies show that its foreign nature drives him out faster both psychologically and physically than it does his black migrant counterpart. For the mountain youth who is unable or unwilling to assimilate into the life of the city, there is little help from the social service agencies which understand much more about blacks than they do about him. He is thus not only without help, but, perhaps more appallingly, he is without an advocate in a city that he does not understand and that does not understand him. One group of Appalachians who are consistently overlooked and underserved by the institutions of the region is the blacks. As a matter of fact, both government and the so-called "private" welfare agencies refuse to acknowledge the existence of blacks in Appalachia. While the percentage of blacks in the region as a whole is low, about eight percent, they make up the entire population of many small isolated hollows and ghost coal towns abandoned by the corporations and welfare and poverty �222 Colonialism in Modern America agencies. Because the backbreaking jobs that brought black imports into the region are gone and because of the discrimination and competition with the majority of poor white people for jobs and welfare funds, their existence is a poor one indeed. As yet no agency report or journalist has documented the presence and needs of these people, let alone described the culture of a minority group in the midst of another cultural minority. America's unwillingness to deal with the Appalachian as he asks to be dealt with is probably no more baffling than America's seeming obsession with studying and understanding his unusual life-style and values. Even before the Russell Sage Foundation published John Campbell's The Southern Highlander and His Homeland in 1921, writers and sociologists were making forays into the mountains alternately to praise, condemn, and collect the mountain culture. The studies are still being made today in the midst of the technological revolution that is, for all practical purposes, making "Middle Americans" all alike. The conclusions of modern studies do not differ from those made in the last century. The Appalachian is different: He is existence oriented and independent, has close family ties, is fatalistic, cares for his elderly, ad nauseam. If, as Robert Coles and others have written of late, the Appalachian has a life-style and a culture that America would do well to listen to, if not opt for, why has America failed so miserably at times to meet his needs? Part of the answer is obviously that Appalachia has been in the main a colonial territory for America within her own boundaries. The life-style of the region served well the need of the mining and lumbering corporations for a subjugated people willing to be peasants in their own land. Even after the bloody struggles to unionize the mines, the capacity of America's institutions (including its labor unions) to contain the people's struggle remained intact. What on the surface appear to be quaint people whose character can be explained away by their isolation and independence may, in fact, be more accurately described as the historical reaction of the people to colonialism. What on the surface may strike Jack Weller, author of Yesterday's People (published jointly by the University of Kentucky and the Council of the Southern Mountains), as ignorance, �Annihilating the Hillbilly 223 that keeps people from taking polio shots even when they are offered free transportation, may, in fact, be better explained by Frantz Fanon, a physician himself, who argues (in The Wretched of the Earth) that the Algerians resisted "modern medical techniques" as long as the French were in control of them but adopted the new practices immediately when they felt themselves to be in control I have seen parents who had refused to have their children vaccinated at the public health clinic willingly have them vaccinated when it was "our" medical students who were giving the shots. One has to understand how the medical profession in Appalachia operates to appreciate fully this phenomenon. He has to sit with a young father in the mountains and hear the story of how his pregnant (now deceased) wife was turned away from the hospital because he did not have the hundred dollars that the doctors demand as a down payment for those who do not have medical insurance. It is these same compassionate physicians who, rather than reform their own practices to meet the needs of people, have turned the Medicaid program into a thriving business. The potential earnings from the health support programs is so great that a recent government report on physician manpower in Appalachia suggests that it is one of the most lucrative enticements to get doctors into the region—another colonial characteristic. A largely overlooked article in the Louisville Courier-Journal in the spring of 1970 describes how doctors and pharmacists have turned Medicaid recipients in eastern Kentucky into addicts and junkies. It repeats reports from law officers and nurses who had seen "whole families lying around in a stupor" and "glassy-eyed teenagers and small children wobbling or passed out along the roadside" because they took narcotics prescribed by their physicians. One eastern Kentucky pharmacist admitted that 65 percent of his business came from Medicaid dues. "The poor people are substituting pills for faith," he explained. He went on to describe why the abuses are allowed to continue: "It would cost the pharmacist a great deal in time away from work to keep a check on abuses. They are just too busy." By and large, American institutions can be said then to have held no respect for the mountaineer other than for his use as an object. Richard Davis notes in his recent book, The Man Who Moved a Mountain (Fortress Press), that large metropolitan �224 Colonialism in Modern America newspapers used the notorious Allen feud of the second decade of this century in Hillsville, Virginia, to interpret the Appalachian to their urban readers. Said one: The majority of mountain people are unprincipled ruffians. They make moonshine, 500 horsepower, and swill it down; they carry on generous and gentle feuds in which little children are not spared, and deliberately plan a wholesale assassination, and when captured either assert they shot in self-defense, or with true coward streak deny the crime. There are two remedies onlyeducation or extermination. Mountaineers, like the red Indian, must learn this lesson. Another editorial in a northern newspaper on the same event went on to conclude: The Scotch-Irish mountaineers are more ignorant than vicious, victims of heredity and alcohol, and now that their isolated region has been invaded, must change or perish. One of the often overlooked aspects of the outsiders' fetish for Appalachia has been the premises that underlie their own prescriptions for the people's future. One finds in Jack Weller's influential writing, for instance, comments such as these: There is little in the mountain child's training that would help him develop self-control, discipline, resolution, or steadfastness. Thus the way is prepared for future difficulties in the army or at work. Since the culture inadequately prepares its members to relate to "outsiders," there is a great need for "bridge" persons, who can help the suspicious and fearful to respond more positively to persons and institutions which will increasingly be of help and resource—doctors, psychiatrists, clinics, hospitals, government in the form of agency officials, policemen, public health nurses, welfare workers, and recreation leaders. The mountaineer's suspicion of these persons limits his use of them in crisis occasions, when, in fact, their purpose is to be of assistance in many ways at other times. He needs help in �Annihilating the Hillbilly 225 understanding that government and other institutions cannot be run in person-oriented ways but must be conducted in great measure on an impersonal objective basis. He needs help in seeing that a certain amount of bureaucratic organization is a necessary thing, and that a government does not exist for an individual person's benefit (Yesterday's People, pp. 157-158). Responding to the Appalachian culture, outsiders are sometimes incapable of interpreting the evidence because of their own training in research procedures. One (while, of course, repeatedly enjoining his readers that he is passing no judgment on the culture) describes mountain music and literature as "regressive looking/1 "nostalgic and melancholy," over all, "repressive." Thomas Merton, on the other hand, after hearing some mountain music for the first time at the Abbey of Gethsemani, gave the correct interpretation and exclaimed, "It's apocalyptic!" Perhaps the only fair hearing the culture of the people of Appalachia will receive is from persons like mystics and contemplatives who do not assign ultimate importance to the things that the modern state and today's seminarians have blessed as divine. The churchmen, educators, welfare agents, independent dogooders, journalists, and novelists, and the institutions which pay their salaries—that is, those who have made an extraordinarily good living trying to "understand" the mountain man—have studied the Appalachian not to learn from him but rather to "teach" him, to "school" him, to "doctor" and "save" him by making him into what they already are: Middle America, assimilated into the America of the television and Holiday Inn—the America which Tocqueville and Faulkner warned was founded by those who sought not to escape from tyranny but to establish one in their own image and likeness. Only in Appalachia, for example, have the mainline churches come upon a "Christian" religious expression which stands four-square against what they expect religion in America to "do." The rejection of the Christian Century by Appalachia has baffled and annoyed the mainline churches, their agencies, theologians, and sociologists. And because the church in mainline America is unable to understand the church in Appalachia, it has so far been unable to assimilate it. It has failed, in other words, to make it over into another of the agencies of social �226 Colonialism in Modern America welfare alongside HEW, Social Security, the Council of the Southern Mountains, the Commission of Religion in Appalachia, the Home Mission Board, etc. The mainline churches have tried to obliterate the Appalachian churches with demands for expressions which are "progressive," "rational," "contemporary," and "relevant." What more haunting and, in many instances, disgusting examples of the philosopher's ambiguity of "reason" or the theologian's "original sin" could be asked for? The liberal churchmen, Catholic and Protestant, insist that the snake handling of the mountain man must come to an end (as must the "emotionalism" and "irrelevance" of the black church). And all the while the mainline, liberal church ignores the more dangerous "snake handling" which defines their efforts to "save" "yesterday's people"—a phenomenon described precisely by Thomas Merton in "Events and Pseudo-Events: Letter to a Southern Churchman." The answer to the question of why mountain culture must be destroyed is to be found in the fundamental truth about the technological society: The techniques which undergird all our institutions are assimilating all of us into, as Jacques Ellul puts it, "a society of objects, run by objects." Institutions in the technological society—and this means not only those of the state and its welfare bureaus, but the do-good agencies which include churches, schools, and colleges—can respond only by and with the techniques of the impersonalized, bureaucratic means, procedures, and formulas. Technique cannot discriminate between right and wrong, justice and injustice. That is why the same technique that gives (and takes away) the health card to an ailing miner assimilates the pious mountaineer into the fivepoint grading system and the Uniform Sunday School Lesson. The meaning is clear. Institutions working in Appalachia today can work for only one end: the extinction of the Appalachian people. The extent to which these institutions have so far failed in the venture is the extent to which this people and culture have successfully resisted the formidable pressures of the institutions of contemporary technological society. Why institutions—political and private, church and business, industrial and charitable—have responded and can respond to the Appalachian the way they have tells us something very important about power and powerlessness in the technological society. �Annihilating the Hillbilly 227 For those of us who believe that the struggle is for the soul of man in the technological society, the resistance of Appalachian culture against assimilation into middle America demands earnest, indeed prayerful, attention. The struggle of the mountain man against the institutions of the technological society is the struggle to deny his right to define any man by his relationship to Middle America. The struggle—whether one believes that it comes out of resistance informed by left-wing Protestantism or opposition to colonialism and genocide—has implications for all who question not only the possibility but the quality and character of any resistance to the totalitarianism of the technological society. �This page intentionally left blank �by In an in for he in the I his has he a the old the and he a as is an for our is the In in a for the as 0/ £/.?£ us of in as [in by The of has as to of to a as it art of to , . .In an in his as a capacity, to his in the he his be it is the be to of the the de^ of in j€ ins iff oW m o» �230 Colonialism in Modern America And it was precisely this ideal state of things that I found existing in the mountain communities. So closely indeed is the practice of this particular art interwoven with the avocations of everyday life that the singers, unable to remember a song I had asked for, would often make some such remarks as "Oh, if only I were driving the cows home I could sing it at once."* Sharp's book contains hundreds of beautiful tunes and poetic texts, but there was more. He looked only for English material and so passed over the vast amount of fiddle music brought from Scotland and Ireland, the banjo learned from Negro slaves, and the powerful Regular Baptist church singing, which apparently originated in the mountains and may have come from the Cherokee. The people who made this music were, like their music, individualistic, democratic, and self-sufficient. We don't need to be romantics to see in the mountains of 1916 a free and independent people to whom this stable culture gave the strength and vitality to stay that way. Today, living in the ruins of that culture with that independence only a memory, it would be good to try to analyze what happened to it. People's culture comes from the way they live and in turn feeds back into that way of life. If you change one, the other must change with it. So as Appalachia was turned into a colony—as people stopped being independent farmers and started working for wages—the old music was cut loose from its place and quickly began to decay. Cecil Sharp's co-worker Maud Karpeles observed: It is surprising and sad to find how quickly the instinctive culture of the people will seem to disappear once they have been brought into touch with modern civilization . . .and the singing of traditional songs is relegated almost immediately to that past life which has not only been outgrown, but which has no apparent bearing on the present existence. What is not as obvious, though, is that our mountain culture was exploited in its own right, picked apart and ruined just as surely as our forests and coal seams. Old time music was �Our Own Music 231 removed from its roots and nearly destroyed. It had been freemade by many and shared by all. Now it was put in packages and sold. It is striking how this process went hand in hand with the opening of the coalfields. Coal brought cash and jobs to a region that had seen little of them before, and it also brought goods that the cash could be spent on. Why is it that the new drives out the old? Why did people move off the farms to the coal camps? Why did they begin to buy clothes rather than make them? or buy phonographs instead of fiddles? I can't answer that—but these things happen. The modern era of folk music recording began shortly after World War I when Ralph Peer of Okeh Records went to Atlanta with portable equipment. A record dealer there offered to buy 1000 copies if Peer would record the singing circus barker "Fiddling John" Carson. "The Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane" and "The Old Hen Cackled and the Rooster's Going to Crow" were cut. According to Peer, "It was so bad we didn't even put a serial number on the record, thinking that when the local dealer got his records that would be the end of it. We sent him 1000 records. That night he called New York on the phone and ordered 5000 more sent by express and 10,000 by freight. When the national sale got to 500,000 we were so ashamed we had Fiddling John come up to New York and do a re-recording of the numbers." (From folklorist Harry Smith in an introduction to a collection of early recordings)^ Soon many mountain musicians began to make records. Commercial music was not so exclusive then as now. A company might record and press 1000 records and sell them in the singer's home area. Much rare and beautiful music of varied style and good quality was recorded in this way.3 One variety in particular, the string band style, for instance, of Gid Tanner and the Skillet Lickers,4 gained quite a following; and instrumental music began to crowd out quiet unaccompanied singing. As time went on, musicians began to tailor their songs to records, and in some ways this music seemed more fitting than that transplanted from barns and living rooms. The Carter �232 Colonialism in Modern America Family from Scott County, Virginia, became the first recording "stars" in the area. Their "Wildwood Flower" is today the most widely known instrumental piece in the Southern mountains. Other stars followed: Mainer's Mountaineers, Charlie Poole, eventually Jimmie Rodgers, "the Singing Brakeman." In 1925 the Grand Ole Opry went on the air, certainly the best-loved radio show in history.5 Week after week superb entertainers like Uncle Dave Macon and Arthur Smith came into thousands of homes, entertaining families that ten years earlier might have been at barn dances or telling ghost stories around the fireplace. And aspiring musicians now had an opportunity. Ten years earlier they had looked no further than the barn dance for an audience. The lives of the listeners were changing profoundly too. As many people moved into the coal camps, country traditions like square dances and husking bees began to wither. Working in the mines left little leisure for fiddling. Musicians by the hundreds quit playing and fell out of practice. A few became professionals and worked at radio stations (still today the first step up for professional musicians). Food was bought, not made, and so was music, and gradually the record came to define where music was and what it was. For the first time young musicians imitated new styles while older ones began to feel awkward and old-fashioned. Then came the Depression with desperate poverty and brutal oppression that smothered most of the mountain music. Traditional culture—the wholeness of mountain life—was gone. The old music had no context, little meaning or social place. Traditional songs died by the thousands; record companies and promoters controlled popular taste, and hungry musicians tried desperately to please them. Mountain people's music, like their labor, was bought and sold in the market. II. By the 1920's the mountains had, for better or worse, become part of the American economic system. In 1929 the system went abruptly from better to worse, and in the mountains worse was only the beginning. FDR saw "a third of a nation �233 Our Own Music ill-fed, ill-housed, ill-clad"; in the mountains it was a third of a third of a third that was not so destitute. Social and cultural life, like economic life, went to pieces in this crisis. In some places miners, their families, and neighbors turned to militant labor organizations; and outside organizers who arrived in these communities found people singing about their situation. Topical singing is not new in the Southern mountains. Indeed, almost all mountain folk music was "topical" in that it related directly to everyday life. When economic or political forces were felt, they too were reflected in songs. An early 19th century song describes unemployment: They've got a brand new machine Prettiest thing you Ve ever seen Hand me down my peg, my peg, my peg and awl Peg a hundred shoes to my one My shoe pegging days is done Put up my peg, my peg, my peg and awP The Civil War, which deeply split the mountains, produced a large number of songs. Here is a white abolitionist song from east Kentucky that I learned from my grandmother: We 're Stolen Souls From Africa7 Freely Were sto-len mer in droves, souls from - Af - n - ca, i Like hogs and sheep, - ca. suf - fer from the heat, en trans - por - ted - dure to we're— marched_ the cold. �Colonialism in Modern America 234 Similarly when coal mining arrived, singers responded with a large body of music. One of the most widespread was the following: Dream of the Miner's Child® A min - er was leav - ing his home for his work, When he heard D J J] G scream; He went to D "Dad-dy, C I've had the side such to - day,_ of the Dad-dy, please don't lit-tie girl's bed, a dream. Oh, Dad - dy don't work A7 a-way, For I in the D dreams have so of - ten come true, go She said, Chorus _ for child_ G G G mines C his lit-tie Oh, Dad-dy, dear nev - er could live with-out you." And one of many songs to come from Claiborne County, Tennessee, in the 1890's was this one: Way back yon-der in Put them work - ing Ten-nes-see, in the mine_ they leased the con-victs a - gainst free la - bor out, stout. Free �235 Our Own Music Buddy Won't You Roll Down the Line9 la - bor re-belled while the lease was roll down dar - lin' the line, a - gainst in it, to ef - feet they made 'em bud dy won't you com-ing down the win it took some rise and roll down the line. time, But shine. Bud-dy won't you Yon-der comes my line. Bud-dy won't you come down the line, bud-dy won't you j j> i J roll down the line, Yon-der comes my dar - lin' com-ing down the line. My opinion is that just as coal mining subtly forced people off their land, commercial recordings and radio forced them away from their music. But for two generations or so, mountain musicians commented extensively on the changing society around them, leaving us with a lot of good music and a good example.10 Two songs, both composed by Kentucky miners' families in the depth of the Depression are the following: �Colonialism in Modern America 236 Which Side Are You On Come all Cm . Cm Villl dwell. you good Fm tell, j. of Of how the good Chorus VJl \j/JVII43 Which side work — are you - ers, good Cm old news to you un - ion has come in Gm on, I'll Gm here to Cm which side are you on? The Allan Song morn-ing, hear the whis - tie blow, Grab my po - ta - to can and a-way I go. Which Side Are You On was written by Florence Reese, a miner's wife in Harlan County, while her husband, an organizer for the National Miner's Union, was hiding from the gun thugs who would have killed him if they could. The Allah Song was written by my cousin Bill Maloney who worked in the Allais Brothers' mines near Hazard. Mrs. Reese's song was learned by NMU organizers who taught it to people in New York and elsewhere. The song took on a life of its own and popped up in the deep South in the 1960's as a freedom song. It is sung widely by people who have no idea it originated in Kentucky.11 My cousin's song was posted at the Allais mines (Allais would have fired the author had he known who it was), but it has not gone much beyond the family. I happened onto it at a family gathering near Jackson. �237 Our Own Music This brings up an interesting question: What was the function of topical music in this period? Were such songs sung only in living rooms? At rallies? By men at work or on strike? On marches and picket lines? The question needs to be studied some more, to say the least. My own idea is that if the miners did not sing as much as the civil rights fighters of the 60's, they still had a musical time of it. A lot of their movement was in small isolated fights in remote areas not visited by outsiders, and most of the musicians were not professionals. But I think that if research were done, a large number of mining songs would be found, many in the nature of protest. Two more examples include The Coal Black Mining Blues, which was written in 1932 by Nimrod Workman of Chattaroy, West Virginia, and was more or less unknown until Nimrod issued a record in 1972. How Can A Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live was recorded in 1931 by Blind Alfred Reed of Pipestem, West Virginia, and has become somewhat widespread through recordings by the New Lost City Ramblers. The last two stanzas were added quite recently by Hazel Dickens and Alice Foster. Coal Black Mining Blues Intro ® 3 got the I went blues, I blues to my place, I got the blues,-Lord. Lord, coal black I peeked in, slate and the wat-er got the blues, I got the blues,_Lord, Lord, min - ing blues. up to my chin, I coal black _ min got the ing blues. �238 Colonialism in Modern America How Can A Poor Man Stand Such Times And Live There once was a time when ev-ery-thing was cheap, puts a man to - sleep; f eel _ like ma -king our will, When we But now pay_ our gro»cer-y Tell me how can a pri - ces near - ly bill, we just poor, man stand such times and live? How did it happen that one song was recorded and the other not? How many more like these have been lost? It is worth stopping at this point to look at the ways songs are learned and spread around. Most of the well-known songs from the coalfield struggle of the 1930*s come from one east Kentucky family^Sarah Ogan Gunning, her sister Aunt Molly Jackson, and their brother Jim Garland. All three were active in the NMU and worked closely with outside organizers for that body. And it was through these organizers that the songs were spread to people who felt they were important. In 1937 and 1938, researchers from the Library of Congress "collected" the family's music and from then on it has been part of our heritage. So getting a song around is a risky business if the song happens to advocate union organizing or the abolition of strip mining, or some other controversial matter. In the 1930's the distribution network for such songs consisted of a few organizers and folklorists—no music publishers, no records, no radio, magazines, or newspapers. None of these things had existed in 1890 either; but then every song stood on its own, and a piece could travel if it was its nature to do so. But when radio came along and excluded industrial music, a powerful form of censorship was established.12 And it's still with us, to be broken only by already famous singers of exceptional ability like Merle Travis (Sixteen Tons) or Loretta Lynn (Coal Miner's Daughter). �Our Own Music 239 I think that situation can and should be challenged. Music is too important to be left to the businessmen. III. Most music heard in the Southern mountains today comes via radio, records, and TV from commercial musicians in Nashville. It's good music. It ought to be: The best musicians in the South have left home and gone to Music City to make it. And it really is the people's music now, widely known and loved. Alone among major forms of entertainment, country music is made by working people of the mountains and the South, the same people who listen to the music. Alone among entertainment forms, it talks directly about people's lives, often about the singer's own background. Dolly Parton must have been speaking for a lot of people when she wrote: No amount of money could buy back from me The memories I have of then No amount of money could pay me To go back and live through it again The good old days when times were But after saying this, I want to bring up some criticisms I have of the music industry, since they bear on the question of people making music. Mostly, I resent its turning music into a commodity, made in Nashville much as cars are made in Detroit. In other words, production and distribution are controlled by a relatively small group of people who try to make money from it. This has bad results: 1. One style (the "Nashville sound") is made dominant over all others, like fiddle music, old ballads, or children's game songs. People should choose their favorite style, true, and should have a choice. The extreme diversity of musical styles heard in the mountains fifty years ago was a very good thing, and I wish it hadn't been lost. 2. Only professional musicians are heard. Nashville's musical standards are so high (and its equipment so expensive) that most people feel like musical idiots next to them; so they shut up and listen. �240 Colonialism in Modern America 3. The flood of material overwhelms most institutions that provide for face-to-face music-making. Square dances are all but gone; only the churches have been able to shelter a large amount of handmade music. Records and radio are where it's at. Amateurs almost always imitate professionals; original songs are rarely heard. 4. A few (a very few) people decide what music is going to sound like. The producer, not the singer, decides whether to put trombones in a love song or when to change keys. I think some producers are tone-deaf. Only a real superstar will have artistic control over what his/her records will sound like. It depends, in most cases, on what the producer thinks will sell. So while the music talks about average people, it is many steps removed from belonging to them. 5. It perpetuates a form of control over people. There is a kind of sameness to most C & W music, especially in subject matter. It says that love, marriage, divorce, religion, and beer are important; it says by implication that strip mining, black lung, boring or dangerous work, cruddy schools and health care are not so important. There are exceptions (see below), but when it comes to politics, C & W is mostly pretty conservative: endorsing the flag, the war, and women who know their place. People's history and their past and present struggles are mostly ignored.15 Since C & W largely dominates what people hear, it helps define how they look at themselves and their lives. I think it encourages them to be placid, which I think is bad. IV. Country music was always a stepchild of the music industry; its writers and artists, often underpaid, were not in the trade association (ASCAP) which controlled most material. So when ASCAP went on strike in 1941, industry executives latched onto country music as programming. It immediately went nationwide and, to everyone's surprise, proved quite popular. A war story relates that Japanese soldiers, trying to insult Americans during battle, shouted "To hell with Roosevelt, to hell with Babe Ruth, to hell with Roy Acuff." In the boom years following 1945, commercial country music got to be truly bigtime.16 �Our Own Music 241 Homemade music continued to decay. It carries on among old singers, particularly in the Blue Ridge and in eastern West Virginia. But most often people sing material that has already been recorded and standardized (if not written) by an established musician. Some songs of Jimmie Rodgers or Roy Acuff, in fact, are so widespread they are practically "folk music." For a while, anyway, it looked as though old-time music was headed for the museum. As late as 1964, a group called Friends of Old-Time Music was arranging New York concerts for musicians unknown in their own communities. Why this decay? I wish we could figure it out. Maybe with some study, we could. Part of the answer, I think, is in a conversation I had with two old fiddlers in Pike County who haven't played in twenty years. The reason, they said, was "all this fighting"—the well-known fact that you can't have a social event in east Kentucky without twelve fights, three arrests, and considerable property damage. The mountain have always been a rough place (my grandfather died minus two fingers afid plus several bullets and uncounted scars), but it seems that what we experience now is different—so disruptive and self-destructive that a lot of social life is simply impossible. This may have something to do with our political and economic history. Frantz Fannon, writing of black communities, detailed how oppressed people can turn their violence on each other; it seems to me that the mountains have experienced this. Where our own music has survived, it has been in very private settings (living rooms) or in very structured ones (churches, bluegrass festivals). And the form that has most flourished, bluegrass, is very structured and set in a strict audience-performer pattern. In the last ten years, however, something has happened that has led large numbers of young people into old-time music. Today you can hear thirty or forty at a time playing Old Joe Clark or Flint Hill Special, 50,000 people come to the Old Time Fiddler's Convention in Union Grove, N.C., and even more go to Galax in August. Bluegrass festivals (like Ralph Stanley's annual at McClure, Va., on Memorial Day) are crowded. Magazines like Sing Out! and Bluegrass Unlimited carry music and articles to thousands of enthusiasts. County, Rounder, Folkways and other record companies offer old-time music from old recordings and present-day pickers. Guitars and banjo sales are at an all-time high as picking and singing spreads like wildfire. �242 Colonialism in Modern America Just one thing. A good many of the folks now enjoying mountain music have never even seen a cow, let alone a mountain. The "folk revival" of the 60's, plus the general frustration of life in America, has made the music of the mountain past seem extremely inviting to people (mostly young) from both the flatlands and hills who haven't seen much of it before. What does this mean? A fair number of kids have decided (not unreasonably) that the Appalachian Region is Paradise Lost; this fact has given West Virginia a fair number of communes and short-lived organic restaurants.17 The "revival" has meant some income for good musicians, including former recording artists like Clarence Ashley and Dock Boggs. And it has meant some truly wonderful music made by people ("authentic" hillbillies as well as outsiders) who have bothered to seek out old-timers and learn from them. The Fuzzy Mountain String Band, for example, started playing hoedown music in college in North Carolina, and now they make what I call some of the best music anywhere. There is a good and a bad side to all this. The kind of exploitation of "quaint" mountain people that gives us Gatlinburg can also destroy old-time music. Fiddlers' conventions aren't meant to hold 50,000 people. It brings hero-worship and "stardom" to music that wasn't designed for it. The majority (colonialist) culture has largely absorbed and nearly destroyed our subculture ("L'il Abner" and "Beverly Hillbillies"18), and even their dropouts can be a tidal wave. They have no culture of their own and don't adopt mountain culture (even if they could); therefore, they offer mountain music no context or place. So they too may be mining the mountains, taking what they want, and leaving wreckage behind; or they may be here just in time to keep the old music alive and growing. Or both. So mountain people deserve to ask: Which side are you on? How deep does (or can, or will) this revival go in the mountains? It is hard to say. But we can see that musicians face the same questions of insiders-outsiders or us-them, that organizers, politicians, and everyone else has to deal with. Like earlier adventurers I guess we will see some musicians who go one way, some another, and some who try to stay in the middle. Despite the music industry's takeover, there is one small but �243 Our Own Music important area where mountain people keep control of their own music: topical music made by people who feel the need for songs to comment on some immediate aspect of their lives. A lot of it has been written in the last ten years or so; it goes along with the many movements that have stirred the mountains recently. Much has been "hidden" by being known only to a few people near the singer. Gradually, however, an increasing number of songs are getting passed around, some even recorded. A superb collection of them is to be published soon, edited by Guy and Candie Carawan. Music like this seems to do two things: comment on social forces, struggles, and so on; and to be in some way part of the struggle. Songs that describe or comment on things are the easiest and most common. Composed and sung by individuals (though they may express the feelings of thousands), they can be extremely powerful in poetry and music. Here is Hazel Dickens' black lung song: Black Lung He's had more 1 hard I The mines He's luck was his lived a than most first hard love but life_ men ne - ver and hard could stand,. his friend. - he'll die, m Black lung's done got him, his time is nigh._ �244 Colonialism in Modern America Songs that are directly part of a struggle are not as common in the mountains as in, say, the civil rights movement. This is partly because there is not much tradition of large groups singing together except in church. Union struggles and picket lines, however, have inspked some good singing. A popular union song inspked by an old spkitual, with some new verses from the Pikeville, Kentucky, hospital strike of 1972-74 is the following: We Shall Not Be Moved fr*r We E r shall not »n r be, we shall not be moved, We C moved, Just like a shall not be, G tree that's pknt-ed by the wa - ter, we shall not be D ' I We G shall not be moved. And a song by Michael Kline that has been sung at many antistripping rallies is this one: Strip Away, Big D-9 Dozer Strip a - way D 7 home— I'm J> j- D - 9 G j. Do - zer, C a - get-tin' mad - der as you're get - tin' G bu-ry my big G home. Well, I looked up -r co-min' for to D bu- 'ry my G clos - er, Corn-in' for to C a spoil bank and what did D I see?_ �245 Our Own Music Com-in' for to bu-ry C my home— D push-in* down my The Is - land Creek Coal_ Corn-pan - y G trees,— Com-in' D^ for to b u - r y my G home. We are all so used to judging music by commercial standards that it is worth looking briefly at what this kind of music can do that Nashville doesn't. It can spread and popularize ideas and information and counter propaganda. If well grounded in people's culture (new words to an old tune, for example), it can break through the censorship of the media and travel everywhere. In the South the "freedom songs" became a part of many people's lives, an important source of strength for their hard fights. I hope we can manage to call on some of the same forces. In the past, "topical" songs contained practical instructions for resistance, as in songs that told slaves how to escape or miners to "keep your eye upon the scale." And finally is the simple fact that people singing is a very moving experience, a powerful force that needs to be turned loose again. A song that tries to do some of these things must be really well based in people's lives. The singers of the IWW made it a point to use only familiar tunes (since they couldn't make records and most folks can't read music). Some modern writers (like Hazel Dickens) are making new tunes that sound old and familiar. A song won't travel unless it says what folks want it to and in their own language. I think it should also remind people of the surroundings that they associate with music, like churches or beer joints. A song that sounds like an old gospel tune is easier to listen to than one that sounds like an art song. One more song, one that covers a lot of territory, including a practical lesson in songwriting is this one: Fountain Filled With Blood **€P There_ T*1 J is J J | a foun-tain r j' J j~?l i j n nn r*i filled with blood, The blood of our moun-tain men so brave, Men who worked to-geth-er in the black coal pits. Men who dug each oth-er's �246 Colonialism in Modern America graves. Men who dug each oth-er's graves, Oh, God, men who dug each oth - er's_ graves. Men who worked to-geth -er in the black coal pits, men who dug each oth-er's grave. Anyone interested in this kind of music should also consider a little about ways of spreading it. Long-play records can cost as little as a dollar each (at least before the energy crisis); songbooks are cheaper still. Music festivals have become established in some communities, and smaller local gatherings are happening also. Books are appearing and a magazine is being talked about. Local radio stations are occasionally open to local musicians if approached personally. Cable TV is a largely unexplored area, with local programming already being made in some areas. Who knows? If enough pressure is brought, maybe even Nashville would open up a little. The old traditional way of life in the mountains is gone. What is important now is not to try to bring back an old-time culture with old music and the old ways of doing things but to build on the old to make new ways of doing things, ways that we control. We need to preserve what old-time music is left so people can go on enjoying it. We need to have our own music which we make and control ourselves, instead of taking everything Nashville sends us. We need to encourage each other to make music, to sing, write, and play songs. We need our own ways of distributing music—including record companies, radio and TV stations that respond to all kinds of local music instead of trying to discover stars. Old-time mountain music belongs to everyone. So should new-time music. �Our Own Music 247 NOTES IA beautiful and moving picture of this sort of thing is Jean Ritchie's autobiography, Singing Family of the Cumberland* (1955). ^Anthology of American Folk Music, a six-record set issued by Folkways. It consists of an astonishing variety of traditional music originally recorded on 78 rpm records from 1925-30, with such legendary musicians as Dock Boggs, Mississippi John Hurt, Uncle Dave Macon, Blind Lemon Jefferson, the Carter Family, and dozens of "unknowns." One session with this set is worth several thousand pages of description of our musical heritage. ^Without trying to be scholarly, I can distinguish seven distinct styles of traditional mountain music, most of them now going if not gone: 1. Fiddle tunes. Hundreds of tunes came from Scotland and Ireland; hundreds more were made here. The fiddle was the first and the most widespread country instrument, its music with endless regional and personal variations. Dozens of "fiddlers' conventions" are held each year in the mountains, primarily outside the coalfield. Most of the best fiddlers, however, are old now. 2. Banjo music, which deserves an article to itself, as do banjo players like Dock Boggs and Roscoe Holcomb (who Bob Dylan says influenced him greatly). 3. Shape-note hymn singing, now almost extinct except in northern Alabama and western Kentucky. 4. Gospel music, both the quartet style and the "holiness" style of congregational singing like "I'll Fly Away." 5. Regular Baptist singing in the "lining-out" manner, a powerful, stirring music that seems to be absolutely unique to the South- �248 Colonialism in Modern America ern mountains. 6. Ballad singing, both accompanied and unaccompanied. Many ballads were preserved in the mountains long after disappearing from England and Scotland. Many more were made here. 7. "Social music"— songs and lyrics for parties, dances or whatever ("Old Joe Clark"). Not to mention stories, dances, and games, and children's songs. ^"Other string bands included such as Dr. Smith's Champion Horsehair Pullers, the Henpecked Husbands, the Moatsville String Ticklers, and the Fruit Jar Drinkers (who still play on the Grand Ole Opry). first performer on the Grand Ole Opry was Uncle Jimmy Thompson, 80, who fiddled while his niece played piano. After an hour George D. Hay (the Opry's founder) asked if Uncle Jimmy was tired. "Why shucks," he said, "a man don't get warmed up in an hour. I just won an eight-day fiddling contest down in Dallas, Texas, and here's my blue ribbon to prove it." See George D. Hay, A Story of the Grand Ole Opry (1953). "From Hobart Smith of Saltville, Virginia, who has been called "America's greatest folk instrumentalist." ^From Mrs. A. R. Graham of Cynthiana, Kentucky, who learned it as a girl in Magoffin County, Kentucky. 8 Treated at length in Archie Green's book Only A Miner (1972). 9 Also discussed in Green's book. The story of the Coal Creek Rebellion is worth at least a footnote. In the 1880's Tennessee miners tried to organize in the Knights of Labor. To block this, Tennessee allowed coal operators to lease the labor of convicts as scabs. The miners organized, and in 1891 fought a series of battles in which they burned stockades and helped the prisoners (mostly black) to freedom. Tennessee sent militia and quelled the "disturbance" but the convict labor system was soon abolished and the miners organized the mines under the UMW. Other songs from Coal Creek (now called Lake City) are on Hedy West's record Old Times and Hard Times. l^Besides Green's book, coal mining music (up to 1945) is the subject �Our Own Music 249 of two excellent books by George Korson, Coal Dust on the Fiddle (covering the bituminous industry) and Minstrels of the Mine Patch (covering the anthracite field). Both books were commissioned by the UMW. 1 *Mrs. Reece has lately been singing this song at the UMW strike of Duke Power Company's mine at Brookside in Harlan County. The miners there think it is still quite relevant. l^In the 30's record companies did issue some records of protest music. In those hard times no one ignored anything that would sell. The New Lost City Ramblers have issued on LP of recorded industrial music, called Mo dern Times. the reason so many stars sing of being poor but happy is a nostalgia for their own past. It takes a strong person to become a star and stay common— not many can. l^A country -we stern song is indeed lucky to last ten years; some old tunes and ballads have already made it past 400. I think a lot of young mountain musicians, feeling oppressed by the closed, competitive aspect of C&W, turned to the relative freedom of rock— at some cost, I suspect, of cutting away from their own roots. "Country rock," at any rate, is popular now, and Goose Creek Symphony is the favorite band of many people I know. 15 There is only one black star in Nashville, Charley Pride, though "country music" is shot through with things derived from black music. DeFord Bailey, a harmonica player who may have been the first musician ever recorded in Nashville, was the only black star of the earlier days. 16 See Bill C. Malone, Country Music USA (1968), 186-88, 206, 208- 38. A note on terminology. When record companies started producing music for rural audiences they didn't know what to call it. In 1925 Ralph Peer recorded a nameless string band from the Blue Ridge who called themselves "hillbillies." He named them the "Original Hillbillies" and the music became "hillbilly music." (Similarly, black singers were marketed on "race records.") Later, after World War II, as commercial hillbilly became popular and respectable, the industry looked for a more dignified name and settled on "country music"— a little odd, since by then it was all made in the city. The term "country and western" and the cowboy suits Porter Waggoner et al. wear onstage stem from the work of "western" singers like Tex Ritter and Gene Autry, who sang popular "cowboy" songs in the 30's and �250 Colonialism in Modern America 40's. When traditional music was discovered by city musicians of the 60's, the "hillbilly" music of the twenties received still another name and became "folk music." same feeling among their elders leads to long-lived developments and National Forest land grabs. original Beverly Hillbillies were a group of "cowboy" singers who broadcast from Hollywood from 1928-32 and were quite popular. �A Donald He tain in it has had. he he) mC a the "cultural" to he in and he has his a his of the in the his list of in he in to his of the The an is the at in his in of of fit ffe ft a on of in at for Gap, in the of to The Vir™ his as an a a of o/ t/Ji? M o o re Jr. still to as is the mounthe �252 Colonialism in Modern America Fox's national popularity (his books are readily available in paperback editions while those of James Still are out of print) and the general consensus that would agree with William Cabell Moore call for a reappraisal of his depiction of the mountain people to whom he is supposed to have been such a good friend. Undoubtedly, Fox's novels and stories have influenced the nation's view of its Appalachian minority, so we turn to his fiction to evaluate the cast of that view. Fox's first bestselling novel, The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come, is structured on a set of contrasts that characterize his work: the Mountains vs. the Bluegrass, Melissa Turner (mountain girl) vs. Margaret Dean (bluegrass relative), Chad in the mountains vs. Chad in the bluegrass, and so on ad infinitum. Without exception, the thrust of these contrasts is denigratory in relation to mountaineers and laudatory in relation to the bluegrass aristocracy. In The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come Fox characterizes mountain society as pyramidal in structure and divided into three classes. At the top he locates "the valley-aristocrat"—those farmers of the rich river bottoms who occasionally own slaves and are "perhaps of gentle blood" (italics mine). In the middle are the free-settlers, "usually of Scotch-Irish descent, often English, but sometimes German or sometimes even Huguenot," who dwell in "rude" log cabins along tributary creeks. At the bottom are the poor white trash, "worthless descendants of the servile and sometimes criminal class who might have traced their origin back to the slums of London"; these last exist in "wretched cabins at the head of the creek or on the washed spur of the mountain above" and function as "hand-to-mouth tenants of the valley-aristocrats." Although the typography of the region conceivably could have resulted in some such economic stratification as Fox indicates, one must demur at his essentially racial classifications. Surely there were some Scotch-Irish and Germans among those "valley-aristocrats," and perhaps now and then one could have traced his ancestry back to the London slums. In Fox's social theorizing, however, man is a product of the interaction of "blood" and environment-, hence, in order to account for the "semi-barbarous" condition of life he discovers in the mountains, Fox posits an inferiority of blood-line which is compounded by the rigors of the environment. Even those �John Fox, Jr., A Re-Appraisal 253 "valley-aristocrats" like Joel Turner or Judd Tolliver, who had perhaps the initial advantage of "gentle blood," are little more than genial barbarians, notable primarily for their physical prowess and characterized mentally and culturally as possessed of an ignorance and child-like simplicity that reduces them to the level of clowns. The less fortunate, in terms of blood-line, may be either well-meaning or villainous, but they invariably lack the mental capacity to rise above their environmental limitations. The physical destitution in which they exist mirrors a corresponding mental, spiritual, and cultural destitution. The children of such people, "thin, undersized, underfed, and with weak, dispirited eyes and yellow tousled hair" or "round-faced, round-eyed, dark, and sturdy" grow "large-waisted and round shouldered. . .from work in the fields." They sit uninterested and restless through the "blab schools" and quit, their minds untouched and unenlightened, to take their place in the generations of degeneration. Rare indeed is the mountain child who shows himself "erect, agile, spirited, intelligent." Chad, one of these rarities who eventually takes his rightful place among the bluegrass aristocracy, derives his superior qualities apparently from the twin advantages of his mother's having been "a lawful wife" and his grandfather's having worn a "wig and peruke." Melissa, the true mountain waif of unknown parentage, must perish because her mother was so uncircumspect as to get herself bedded before she was wedded. Fox's bias against mountain people is underscored when he comes to speak of the Bluegrass as it is with his curious blend of romantic mysticism and naturalistic determinism. Chad is introduced to the Bluegrass by an itinerant cattle dealer and the schoolmaster, who tell him of a "faraway, curious country" where the land was level and there were no mountains at all; where on one farm might be more sheep, cattle, and slaves than Chad had seen in all his life; where the people lived in big houses of stone and brick—what brick was Chad could not imagine—and rode along hard, white roads in shiny covered wagons, with two "niggers" on a high seat in front and one little "nigger" behind to open gates, and were proud and very high-heeled indeed; where there were towns that had more people than a whole county in the mountains, with rock roads running through �254 Colonialism in Modern America them in every direction and narrow rock paths along these roads—like rows of hearthstones—for the people to walk on—the land of the bluegrass—the "settlements of old Kaintuck." And there were churches everywhere as tall as trees and schoolhouses a-plenty; and big schools, called colleges, to which the boys went when they were through with the little schools. The contrast here, although couched in language comprehensible to a child's mind, suggests the materialistic and racist value-base on which Fox's attitudes and judgments are founded, attitudes which preclude any sympathetic understanding of the mountain culture he found in Jellico and Big Stone Gap. This bias is much more explicitly stated in a chapter of The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come entitled "The Bluegrass.*' Fox begins the description with the epithet "God's Country!" and continues to characterize Bluegrass Kentucky as the land that seems "to have been the pet shrine of the Great Mother herself." She fashioned it with loving hands. She shut it in with a mighty barrier of mighty mountains to keep the mob out. She gave it the loving clasp of a mighty river, and spread broad, level prairies beyond that the mob might glide by or be tempted to the other side. . . . In the beginning, such was her clear purpose to the Kentuckian's eye, she filled it with flowers and grass and trees, and fish and bird and wild beast, just as she made Eden for Adam and Eve.. .And when the chosen peoplesuch, too served her purpose—the Mother went to the race that obstacle but strengthens, that thrives best under an alien effort to kill, that has ever conquered its conquerors, and that seems bent on the task of carrying the best ideas any age has ever known back to the Old World from which it sprang. The Great Mother knows!. . .And how she has followed close when this Saxon race—her youngest born—seemed likely to stray too far—gathering its sons to her arms in virgin lands that they might suckle again and keep the old blood fresh and strong. (My italics throughout) �John Fox, Jr., A Re-Appraisal 255 The aristocratic and racist elitism manifested in this passage explains easily enough Fox's lack of sympathy for the mountaineers he wrote of. The mountaineer, it is implied here, is one of that inferior breed which has succumbed to the mighty barrier Mother Nature erected "to keep the mob out"; hence, he is hardly worthy of serious consideration, for the true bearers of the living heritage are "the chosen/' whose manifest destiny it is to "plant their kind across a continent from sea to sea" and move on "through the opening eastern gates of the earth." When Fox descends from the heights of such mystic racism to describe the state of civilization in the Bluegrass, his idealization of circumstances contrasts markedly with his comments on mountain society: The land was a great series of wooded parks such as one might have found in Merry England, except that worm fence and stone wall took the place of hedge along the highways. It was a land of peace and of a plenty that was close to easy luxury—for all. Poor whites were few, the beggar was unknown, and throughout the region there was no man, woman, or child, perhaps, who did not have enough to eat and to wear and a roof to cover his head, whether it was his own roof or not. If slavery had to bethen the fetters were forged light and hung loosely. This Edenic vision reveals clearly where Fox's sympathies lie, if not his understanding. One can understand why Fox, imbued with such romantic illusions about his birthplace, consistently depicted mountain people as incapable of developing to a state of civilization. When civilization comes to the moutains, it is imposed forcibly upon the native populace, as was the case of the Big Stone Gap Guard, a group of Harvard and Yale graduates self-appointed to bring "law and order" to the rude savages in their mountain fastness; or it is achieved by the exceptionally gifted native who leaves the region for one of the national cultural centers, as June Tolliver does in The Trail of the Lonesome Pine. In either instance, an outside influence provides the catalyst which the mountaineer is unable to initiate for himself or his society. �256 Colonialism in Modern America The mountaineer's debility, in Fox's critical view, is attributable in part to inferior ancestral stock, and in part to the malign effects of the mountain environment. Fox holds firmly to the degeneration theory of mountain societal development, as is evidenced in the history of Chad Buford. The original Buford was a "fine old gentleman in a wig and peruke"; after three generations of mountain isolation, the Buford line has eventuated in Chad, a supposed "woods-colt," orphaned and at the mercy of the viciousness or generosity of whomever he meets. Although the potential inherent in his blood-line raises him head and shoulders above his peers, the disadvantages of his environment prevent the full realization of that potential. In comparison with his counterparts in the Bluegrass, his achievements are inferior indeed. However, when Chad is exposed to the cultural and material advantages of the Bluegrass, his progress is amazingly rapid, soon equalling or surpassing his counterparts in level of attainment. The same theme is more explicitly developed in The Trail of the Lonesome Pine through the characters Jack Hale and June Tolliver. Through years of exposure to the mountain environment, Hale, who comes to the mountains as the representative and harbinger of approaching civilization, gradually loses his civilized refinements and takes on many of the brutish qualities of Fox's mountain inhabitants. June, the little mountain lass who loves him, in the meantime undergoes the opposite process of development as a result of her exposure to the civilizing influence of New York society. In Fox's view, environment is the ultimate determinant of character, and the status quo of mountain society as he describes it precludes any progress toward what he recognizes as civilization, i.e., the cultured societies of New York and the Bluegrass. In spite of much that has been written to the contrary, John Fox, Jr., who achieved a degree of fame and fortune through the literary exploitation of the Appalachian mountaineer, reveals in his fiction little love for either the mountain people or the mountain milieu. His view was always that of an outsider who was examining a quaintly curious but inferior breed with whom he could scarcely sympathize, much less empathize. The potential viciousness of such a view has since become concretely demonstrable in the sacrifice of the people and the area he so befriended to the rapacious progression of �John Fox, Jr., A Re-Appraisal "Saxon" civilization. 257 �This page intentionally left blank �ON by N. and in of the the is is on at its of to of of the ion§? for at for for to the River, The are of the exist. As no an in the in the to be of: 20 of are c May of He is the of fit on fof of a to and is the on " of the He is a of ami a �260 Colonialism in Modern America old, most of them built before World War I. They are in varying stages of decline. Some of them are not much more than postoffice addresses. The old frame two-family houses are settling unevenly. Some have collapsed altogether. Others, considering their age and the haste with which they had been built, are in surprisingly good shape. As a general rule, if a house is freshly painted you can assume that a working miner lives there. The population of Buffalo Creek has fluctuated with the times, declining when the industry declined, recovering when the industry recovered. In 1970, coal had its best year since 1947, and a rosy glow of optimism suffused National Coal Association predictions for the future. Big companies opened new mines along Buffalo Creek and stepped up production in their old ones. When coal comes up out of the ground, the impurities that come with it are separated out in preparation plants^tipples, as they are more commonly called. The coal rolls away in long, black trains; the impurities stay behind, and something has to be done with them. They have a way of accumulating with staggering speed: A ton of raw coal generally contains up to 25 per cent of extraneous material, and a good-sized tipple, handling the production of several mines at once, will separate out thousands of tons of waste every day. Miners have different names for it—"gob" or "slag" or "culm"; but whatever you call it, it still has to be piled somewhere. In the crowded hollows of West Virginia, finding places to pile slag is a problem of major proportions. As a general rule, no engineer is ever called in to consult on the best and safest locations. Instead, the company superintendent simply hunts around for some vacant space convenient to his tipple, and the slag is dumped there, either by trucks climbing up a mountainside and dumping down the slope, or by an aerial tramway strung between peaks and dumping in the middle. Whatever system is used, the slag is piled up until it is higher than the dumping spot, and then a new pile is started. FACING THE GOB Since 1946 a tipple has been in operation at the head of Buffalo Creek. The plant was built by the Lorado Coal Mining Company, a mostly local outfit that sold out to the Buffalo Mining Company in 1964. Buffalo Mining, in turn, sold out in �The Pittston Mentality 261 1970 to the Pittston Company, which is headquartered in New York and is the largest independent producer of coal in the United States. All this time the tipple continued in operation. And all this time it grew. Originally designed to process coal from a single mine, it was expanded periodically as new mines were opened nearby. By 1972 Pittston was operating a total of eight mines in the Buffalo Creek vicinity—five of them underground, three of them stripping jobs. The coal from all eight was processed in the single tipple. On an average, the tipple operated six days a week, two shifts a day; it handled about 5,200 tons of raw coal daily, and shipped out about 4,200 tons of cleaned coal on the long Chesapeake and Ohio trains. That meant that every day a thousand tons of gob, more or less, had to be dumped. Three tributaries run into Buffalo Creek near the Pittston tipple. From 1947 until about 1955, the refuse was dumped along the hillside a few hundred yards upstream from the tipple, but by 1955 the available space was mostly exhausted and the tipple began dumping a little farther away, across the mouth of a small hollow where the Middle Fork tributary meets the creek. At first the gob pile grew slowly. It had to, because most of the hollow behind it was occupied by miners living in company houses. But when production at the tipple increased, the growing gob pile began to menace the houses, and the miners were forced out. The houses were abandoned (some of them were knocked down for the lumber), and the gob was dumped where they had stood. The families moved away, some of them out of West Virginia entirely, some of them only a few hundred yards to vacant houses in the small community of Saunders, which stood facing the gob pile at the intersection of Middle Fork and Buffalo Creek. SAUNDERS WAS GONE The gob pile grew, and grew, and grew more swiftly as the tipple kept expanding production. At first this grotesque black mountain was only an eyesore. Later, it became a source of air pollution and a fire hazard. Gob piles may be nothing but waste; but much of that waste is flammable, and a combination of compaction and oxidation can result in spontaneous combustion. Once a fire gets going deep within a gob pile, extinguishing it is nearly impossible. The fire smoulders, sometimes bursts �262 Colonialism in Modern America into open flame, fouls the sky with acrid smoke, and occasionally produces an explosion. The Federal Bureau of Mines has spent millions of dollars in research on the problem, but the end result is that hundreds of gob piles are smouldering in the Appalachian coalfields right now, and nothing is being done about them. The gob pile at Middle Fork began burning years ago and kept on smouldering. As the dumping continued, another problem arose. Tipples require vast quantities of water in the cleaning-separating process, but water can be a scarce commodity at times in West Virginia. Partly to provide itself with a reliable year-round supply of water, and partly to comply with new state regulations governing stream pollution, Buffalo Mining began to build a series of settling ponds in 1964. Previously the contaminated wash water had simply been sluiced directly into Buffalo Creek, despite the objections of people who liked to fish there. The ponds were created by building retaining dams in the most immediately convenient location: on top of the huge Middle Fork gob pile. By that time the pile had reached stupefying proportions: as high as a 10-story office building, 600 feet across, stretching back into the hollow more than a quarter of a mile. Sweeping down through the pile and wandering across the top, the waters of Middle Fork ran sluggishly to join the main stream of Buffalo Creek. Damming the water was a relatively easy task, using the material closest at hand: mine waste. No civil engineer in his right mind would permit the construction of a dam from such materials (as many a civil engineer would later confirm), but no engineer, it now appears, was consulted. In operation, the settling ponds not only contained runoff water from the hills but refuse-filled water piped from the tipple. The solid refuse would settle out and clear water could be piped back to the tipple. The first of the ponds impounded a relatively small volume of water, however, and it silted up within a couple of years. A second dam was built in 1967 slightly farther upstream. When the tipple was operating full blast, it required 500,000 gallons of water a day, pumping back between 400 and 500 gallons of waste-filled water every minute. Some of the water would seep out through the porous dam, but the waste settling to the bottom—500 tons every day—rapidly filled the pond, and a third dam was built in 1970. Again, no engineering was involved—just truckloads of mine waste, a bulldozer to push �The Pittston Mentality 263 them around, and prestol A dam grew across the hollow, built of nothing but junk and standing on a foundation of slime and silt and dead trees. The trees were there because nobody had bothered to cut them down. It was simpler and faster just to dump on top of them. In West Virginia, February means snow and rain. February meant it this year, as always. In Logan County, there were heavy snows and flash floods; but they were, as the state meteorologist would later point out, "nothing uncommon/' At the head of Buffalo Creek, the waters rose behind Pittston 's makeshift dam. Early on the morning of February 26, Pittston's local mine boss, Steve Dasovich, sent a bulldozer operator up the access road to the dam with instructions to cut a drainage ditch to relieve the pressure from the swollen lake. The access road winds around a mountainside with the dam out of sight much of the way. When the bulldozer operator finally came around the last bend and looked through the rain at the dam, he saw with a sudden, terrible shock that it wasn't there. The dam was gone, and 21 million cubic feet of water and an immeasurable mass of mud and rock and coal wastes were charging through the narrow valley of Buffalo Creek. From where he sat on his suddenly useless machine, the bulldozer operator could look down toward the little town of Saunders^a town consisting of nothing more than a church and some two dozen houses. Now it consisted of nothing at all. Saunders was gone, eradicated completely. Beyond Saunders, the valley curved away out of sight, but the air was filled with the terrifying sound of the flood bearing down on the 15 communities in its path. FATHER OF STRIP-MINING There are no slag heaps on Park Avenue, and no floods will ever wash through the offices of Joseph P. Routh unless the island of Manhattan sinks into the sea. Thirty-five floors up in the Pan American building, the chairman of the Pittston Company has a commanding view. When he looks down to the street below, he can see Brinks armored trucks moving the wealth of America from place to place. The trucks belong to Joe Routh. A good deal of the money does, too. �264 Colonialism in Modern America Routh is 79 now, and he has been making money longer than most men have been alive. He was already a power to be reckoned with when the Pittston Company, which then operated a dozen anthracite mines in Pennsylvania, stumbled into bankruptcy during the Depression. A friend at Manufacturers Trust suggested to Routh that he take over the company and lead it out of the wilderness. The bank sweetened the offer with a $10-million loan—essentially unsecured, since there would be no way to recoup the loss if Pittston went under—and Routh moved in. Anthracite, he concluded, was a dying industry. The future lay in the vast bituminous fields of Virginia and West Virginia. He unloaded most of Pittston's properties in Pennsylvania and began buying up tracts of coal in central Appalachia. At a time when coal prices fluctuated wildly, he had discovered that the best way to tear loose a chunk of coal in time to take advantage of favorable trends was to strip it from the mountainsides rather than go through the difficult, two-year-ormore process of engineering and constructing a deep mine. By 1950, when strip-mining was still an infant industry in Appalachia and conservationists hadn't the foggiest notion of the plague to come, one of RouthJs companies, Compass Coal, was profitably tearing the hills of Harrison County, West Virginia, to shreds. Since there were no state or federal reclamation requirements, no money had to be spent on binding up the wounds. It must have been the best of all possible worlds, unless you lived near one of Routh*s mines. He, of course, didn't. Routh kept himself busy with other conquests, picking up coal companies in Kentucky, West Virginia, and Virginia, buying up trucking companies and warehouses in New York, enlarging his oil-distributing operations, hatching long-range plans for a giant refinery on the Maine coast. Money flowed from Routh's various holdings into his Manhattan office in a never-ending stream, and Routh bought Brinks, Inc., to carry the cash in his own armored cars. AN ACT OF GOD Despite abundant evidence that he was in no danger of going soft, Routh decided in 1969 to bring in a new president. He looked around for a man to match his own toughness and �The Pittston Mentality 265 found one—a 53-year-old native of West Virginia named Nicholas T. Camicia who had already made a mark in the industry as a notable scrambler. "The coal industry is run by men who got where they are by not being nice," says one former federal official in a position to know, "and when Camicia smiles, you can hear his jaws making a special effort." Routh liked him fine. But Camicia already had a good job when Routh approached him about taking over Pittston. Routh reportedly told him to write his own ticket, possibly remembering his own reluctance to sign on until Manufacturers Trust gave him the $10 million to play with. Camicia did, in fact, write his own ticket, putting his signature to a contract that has never been publicized but makes fascinating reading in the archives of the Securities and Exchange Commission. The contract runs until 1976 and guarantees Camicia not only a minimum salary of $100,000 (increased now to $134,000), but it stipulates that a deferred salary of $25,000 will be set aside each year, compounded, and paid out to him in 120 monthly installments whenever he quits or gets fired; if he reaches retirement age before that happens, he also qualifies for a hefty pension. The contract also appears to have included some highly attractive stock options; SEC records show, for example, that Camicia picked up 7,200 shares, worth approximately $270,000, for a price of $78,000—less than a third of their market value. That wasn't all. Camicia was living comfortably in an exclusive Chicago suburb when Routh signed him up; in return for agreeing to move to New York, Camicia got Pittston to buy his house for $90,000 and furnish him, cost free, an equivalent home within commuting distance of Manhatten. He went to work for Joe Routh, reportedly satisfied with the terms of his employment. If ever there was any doubt that Routh and Camicia were a pair of industry touchdown-twins, it was dispelled early in 1970 when Pittston signed a contract with the Japanese steel industry. The Japanese wanted a long-term contract and were willing to make concessions to get a reliable supply of American coking coal. By 1970 Pittston had gained control of a third of all the available commercial metallurgical coal in the United States, and no one could offer more reliability than Routh and Camicia. They would not offer it without certain stipulations, however. The contract they signed with the Japanese called for Pittston to �266 Colonialism in Modern America deliver 140 million tons of coal over the next 10 years at a reported average of $15 per ton, which is about twice the going rate elsewhere. Pittston's directors were so happy last year that they boosted dividends twice and voted themselves a three-for-one stock split to boot. The company now has more than 50 mines working with nine more under development, and there is no end to the good times in sight. Is everybody happy? No. Federal mine inspectors in Appalachia are not pleased with Pittston's safety record; they never have been particularly pleased with it, but the past couple of years have been especially bad. Nine miners lost their lives in 1971 in Pittston mines (two of them in the newly acquired Buffalo Mining division), another 743 were seriously hurt, and the company's accident frequency rate was one of the highest in the coal industry. The record in 1970 was even worse: 18 dead. Investigators found that in a solid majority of the fatal accidents bad management practices (rather than personal carelessness) were to blame. "The company appears to be sincere in its desire for health and safety throughout its mines," one inspector wrote. "This desire/* he added drily, "is not always fulfilled." Not always. All told, some 98 men have been killed in Pittston's mines in the past decade, and a 1963 explosion in which 22 men died still ranks as one of the worst of recent disasters. Three or four thousand men have been seriously injured or maimed in the company's mines since 1962, and the U.S. Public Health Service estimates that as many as 5,000 Pittston miners may have developed pneumoconiosis during that time. The profit margin of the new Japanese contract is a reported 24 per cent, almost three times the normal profit margin in the coal industry; you can't help marveling at how much of that money will be going back to the disabled derelicts living out their lives in Appalachia after destroying themselves to help make Joe Routh a millionaire for the third or fourth time. Pittston's stockholders don't have to concern themselves with such things, because they don't hear about them. The company's handsome four-color annual reports talk about money, not about people. There are pictures of freshly painted oil storage tanks, spotless armored trucks, gleaming computer banks—and aerial pictures of the long, black coal trains winding �The Pittston Mentality 267 their way through seemingly virgin Appalachian valleys. The pictures are taken with care: On the inside back cover of the 1971 report there is a color shot of lovely hills and hollows with a sturdy complex of mine buildings prominent in the foreground. "Aerial view of the Lorado Mine of newly acquired Buffalo Mining Company," the caption reads. Beyond the mine, railroad tracks stretch away, disappearing behind a hill. If you could see beyond that hill, you would see the massive, smouldering gob pile that stood at the head of Buffalo Creek and on top of it the jerry-built dams that Pittston used with its preparation plant. But those things are not part of the picture, not part of the annual report. As far as Pittston's stockholders are concerned, they never existed—not until the morning of February 26, when suddenly the dams collapsed and the burning gob pile erupted and all hell broke loose. Helicopters were still thrashing back and forth between Buffalo Creek and the nearest hospitals when reporters began calling Pittston's New York headquarters to find out what the company had been doing to cause such a monstrous disaster. Camicia and Routh weren't available, wouldn't answer the telephones, wouldn't return calls. Finally, Mary Walton of the Charleston Gazette flushed out a Pittston lawyer who insisted on remaining anonymous but was willing to give the company's point of view. "It was an act of God," he said. DASOVICH'S YARDSTICK " 'Act of God' is a legal term," Robert Weedfall remarked when he heard about Pittston's explanation of the flood. *'There are other legal terms—terms like 'involuntary manslaughter because of stupidity' and 'criminal negligence.' " Weedfall is the West Virginia state climatologist, the man who keeps track of basic acts of God such as rain and snow. He was in a better position than anyone else to know whether there could be any possibility that Pittston's dam had collapsed from natural causes, and he was convinced that it had not—could not have—not by any stretch of the imagination. There had been heavy rainfall in Logan County during the week of February 26 and considerable flooding. But it was nothing uncommon for February, Weedfall said, and he had the statistics to prove it. When reporters called him they were impressed with his conviction. Pittston officials �268 Colonialism in Modern America had called, too, looking for ways to document their private theory of divine intervention. Weedfall wasn't much help. Nor were the technical specialists of the Department of the Interior who arrived from Washington and, in the aftermath of the disaster, poked and probed among the ruins in search of clues. The U.S. Geological Survey sent a crew, as did the Bureau of Mines; the Bureau of Reclamation summoned a former chief of its Earth Dams Section from retirement. The investigators examined the remains of the dam in microscopic detail, interviewed Pittston workers and company officials (who would not talk to reporters), and pieced together a convincing account of what had happened and why. None of the investigators showed any doubt that the dams had been badly engineered. Fred Walker, the retired Bureau of Reclamation expert, went further and refused to use the word "dam" to describe the structures. "Locally these barriers are called dams, but to me this is unacceptable nomenclature," he wrote. "These structures were created by persons completely unfamiliar with dam design, construction, and materials, and by construction methods they are completely unacceptable to engineers specializing in dam design." West Virginia law, Walker noted, "requires permits, approval of plans, and inspection during construction for impoundments more than 10 feet deep. I was unable to find that such requirements had ever been complied with/' Suggesting that similar potentially disastrous situations could be found elsewhere in the coalfields, Walker commented scathingly that "fortunately most of these barriers are built in valleys that have small watersheds above them, as apparently little if any consideration is given to the flood hazard involved." Pittston's consideration of the flood hazard at Buffalo Creek seems to have begun at 4 p.m. on Feburary 24—exactly 40 hours before the so-called dam collapsed—when Jack Kent and Steve Dasovich drove up to survey the situation. Kent was superintendent of Pittston Js stripping operations in its Buffalo Mining division; Dasovich was superintendent of the tipple. The water was rising behind the newest of the three dams. A federal mine inspector had driven past on the previous day and recalled later that the water seemed to be about 15 feet below the top; now it was within five or six feet. According to the Bureau of �The Pittston Mentality 269 Mines report, Kent and Dasovich "agreed that neither the dam nor the rising water presented danger of collapse or flooding at that time." The report makes clear that they were concerned only with the possibility of water overflowing the dam; they seem to have been untroubled by the possibility that the dam might simply give way, even though it was settling visibly in places—and even though part of it had given way almost exactly a year earlier during the rains of February, 1971. (It had been under construction then, with not much water backed up behind it, and there was little damage.) Kent stuck a measuring stick into the sludgy surface of the dam, with the top of the stick about a foot below the top of the dam. It was raining; Dasovich and Kent decided to keep an eye on things. Kent was back at the dam 24 hours later to check his measuring stick. The water was up about a foot and a half. Rain was still falling. Kent, who lives in an imposing home a few miles below the dam, decided to start checking the water level every two hours. He found that it was rising about an inch an hour. At 3:30 a.m. on February 26, peering at the stick with the aid of a flashlight, Kent saw to his alarm that the water was rising faster—two inches an hour, maybe more. An hour later the level was up three inches more and the measuring stick was almost covered. Kent telephoned Dasovich and asked him to come take a look. By the time Dasovich arrived the stick had disappeared entirely and the water was only about a foot below the top of the dam. According to the Bureau of Mines investigators, Dasovich decided to cut a ditch across the dam; he had some drainage pipe on hand and intended to use it to relieve the pressure. He called some of Jack Kent's strip-mine bulldozer operators at home and told them to go to the stripping operation—some three or four miles away—and bring their machines to the dam. Kent, meanwhile, made some calls, too: "He telephoned several families in the Lorado and Saunders area after his 4:30 a.m. examination/1 Bureau investigators reported, "and advised them of the rising water and the possibility of the dam overflowing." Three hours before the dam broke, in other words, the disaster had been foreseen by someone in a position to do something about it. A telephone call to the state police—who could have traveled the entire length of Buffalo Creek by 7 a.m. ordering a general evacuation—might have saved more than a hundred lives. But the �270 Colonialism in Modern America call was never made. And the drainage ditch was never dug, because the dam had given way before the bulldozers arrived. WALKING IN SOUP You can find Jack Kent at home—his house is on high ground and survived the flood untouched—but he doesn't like to talk to reporters. His eyes tell everything; there is no need for words. Dasovich seems to have disappeared entirely. He was in a nearby hospital after the flood, being treated for shock, and nurses said later that he was hysterical and blamed himself for the tragedy. Still later he was reported to have been admitted to a private psychiatric clinic—still later, released. The Federal investigators have not yet talked to him and some of them, knowing now what they do about the dam, see no need. "He knows what was up there," one of them said. "He'll always know what was up there." Other men knew, too. In the community of Saunders there was general concern about the safety of the dam; and on the night of February 25, most of the families who lived nearby decided, on their own, to take refuge in a schoolhouse five miles down the creek at Lorado. The decision saved their lives; the schoolhouse survived the flood, but when the families returned to Saunders to look for their homes, there was nothing to be found. No homes, not even the foundations; everything was gone, everything except an appalling sea of slowly settling, black, foul-smelling sludge. Off and on during the night, in the last few hours before the dam broke, miners went up to have a look at it. There were rumors spreading that it was going to go, but no one really seemed to know. Dasovich reportedly was telling people that things were under control. About 6:30 a.m., according to the federal reports, a miner saw ominous signs of what was coming. "The dam was moving like a bridge moves under heavy traffic," he remembered later. "Water was coming through the dam. . . not much, but it was causing the lower lake to fill up fast." By 7:30, according to another eyewitness account, "The top of the dam was moving back and forth. . . .the dam was settling down and shoving forward." Trying to walk anywhere in the vicinity of the dam was "like walking in soup—it had gotten real, real �The Pittston Mentality 271 juicy, buddy, all the way down. I got in the car and got the hell out of there." The top of the dam was lower on one side than on the other, apparently from foundation settling, and now the top was slumping still further with a momentum that could not have been stopped by an army of bulldozers. One of the several federal reports theorizes that the water level rose quickly during the night, not just because rain was falling, but because the dam had been collapsing slowly into the lake for several hours. But even while the rain continued, the tipple went on pumping its 500 gallons a minute into the sludgy lake behind the dam. 30-FOOT FLOOD Whatever happened in the night, it was morning now, and there was enough light to see what was happening. Apparently no one saw the actual moment when the dam finally gave way. It seems to have happened very fast—the dam settling until water was running across the top, the water cutting a cleft into the dam, more water hurrying through, and then complete and total collapse, and millions of gallons of water and hundreds of thousands of tons of sludge streaming across the top of the slag pile at the beginning of catastrophe. The water cascaded into the burning section of the slag heap and erupted in a volcanic explosion. Men were coming off shift at the tipple and saw what was happening; they saw a mushroom cloud burst into the air from the explosion, saw mud and rock thrown 300 feet into the sky, saw the windshields of their pickup trucks covered with steaming mud. They raced back up the road and tried to use the telephone at the tipple to send out a warning, but the line was already dead. The tipple was safe—it was upstream, up another fork of the creek, out of the path of the destruction—but the men were cut off from the main stream of Buffalo Creek and there was no way they could help anyone. They could only watch as the water and sludge crested over the top of the exploding gob pile and burst into the valley, "boiling up like dry flour when you pour water on it." The flood traveled at first at a speed of at least 30 miles an hour—in a solid wall 20 or 30 feet high. People who saw it �272 Colonialism in Modern America coming as they headed up the Buffalo Creek road barely had time to throw their cars into reverse, turn around wherever there was room, and head back downstream, leaning on their horns, flashing their lights, trying to warn other people who had heard the explosions but still did not know what was happening. There was very little time to do anything. It takes a few seconds to collect your wits when you see a wall of water bearing down on you, especially when you live in a valley where there are only a few exits—hollows running at right angles to the main valley. For most of the people who died, it was like being in the barrel of a gun and seeing the bullet coming. There was nowhere to go. That so many people did escape is something of a miracle. Nearly 5,000 people lived in the path of the flood. Probably a thousand were caught up in it, battered, left shaken, and sometimes badly hurt, but alive. From the wreckage of 16 communities, the bodies of 118 people have been found. There are others still missing; the final toll may be close to 150. THE ONLY LIFE THEY KNEW What happens after a disaster of such magnitude? There are inquiries, of course, and inquiries are under way in West Virginia. But in Appalachian affairs, the official response tends to have a common theme. After the Farmington mine disaster killed 78 miners, it was an Interior Department assistant secretary who said brightly: "We don't know why these things happen, but they do." After the 1970 mine explosion that killed 38 men in Kentucky, it was a newly installed director of the Bureau of Mines who said: "We can almost expect one of these every year." While the search for bodies was still continuing in Logan County, West Virginia's Governor Arch Moore was already defending the Pittston Company: The sludge-built dam had served a "logical and constructive" use by filtering mine wastes that would otherwise have gone unfiltered into Buffalo Creek. It didn't seem to matter much how the thing was built. The state legislature chose not to investigate, instead leaving to the governor the selection of an official commission which would be told to report back by the end of summer. "It's easy to say that the dam shouldn't have been there," Moore said at one point. "But it had been there for 25 years." He was technically wrong, of course, but the inference seemed to be that if a hazard simply �The Pittston Mentality 273 exists long enough, it has a right to be left alone. And by the same token, the Governor made it painfully clear that he would ask the same treatment for the problems of West Virginia. The real tragedy, he said, a tragedy greater even than what had befallen the people of Buffalo Creek, was the unflattering coverage of West Virginia in the national press. In fact there had been precious little of that. The flood had been on page one for two or three days, but it was eclipsed by the President's tour through China (from Shanghai, where he learned of the flood, Nixon sent an expression of regret, concluding from a distance of many thousands of miles that it was a terrible "natural disaster" and promising speedy federal aid); and within a week it would be forgotten, dismissed as one of those things. Time, for example, observed that the people of Buffalo Creek would have been well advised to live elsewhere, but they had stayed on in the shadow of the smouldering gob pile presumably because "that was the only life they knew." PASSING THE BUCK TO GOD The Interior Department, meanwhile, explained through Assistant Secretary Hollis Dole that there was, in its opinion, no federal responsibility in the matter, despite the fact that regulations within the 1969 Federal Coal Mine Health and Safety Act specifically cover the construction and use of gob piles and retaining dams. There were no indications that the government would move to take action against Pittston unless it was prodded by an outraged Congress; on Capital Hill there was no outraged Congress to be found. There would be room for doubt, in any event, about the kind of action that the Department of the Interior would take even if it were forced to do something. The department is reluctant to think of itself as a regulatory agency, or as a federal cop, and among all of the subordinate agencies within the department, the Bureau of Mines is a standout example of one that has refused to grasp the idea of representing the public interest. The problem might not be serious if a system of countervailing power were in operation—if, for example, the people of Buffalo Creek could have counted on the United Mine Workers to represent them against the overwhelming resources and �274 Colonialism in Modern America indifference of the Pittston Company. There had been scattered efforts along Buffalo Creek to protest the slag heaps and the sludge dams—petitions had been circulated, attention had been demanded. But the effort never went anywhere, and it never went anywhere partly because no powerful organization, like the union, chose to push it. The union hasn't pushed much of anything in some time except perhaps the fringe benefits available to its ranking officers. The result is that on one side of the equation there is a powerful industry deeply dedicated to its own interests; on the other side there is, most of the time, nothing at all. And in the middle, where there should be an evenhanded government agency, there is instead the Bureau of Mines, an organization so encrusted with age and bureaucracy that it will not even support its own inspectors when they try to do their jobs. They had, for example, been trying to do their jobs at Pittston's mines, trying to cut down the number of men killed in needless accidents. Over the past year they had slapped thousands of violation notices on the company. The idea is that the notices will cost money; get fined often enough and hard enough, the theory goes, and you will become safety-conscious in the extreme. It hasn't worked that way. Thanks to a highly complex assessment system set up in Washington by a former lobbyist who is now in charge of the Bureau's fines-collection operation, Pittston has been able to defer, seemingly indefinitely, any payment for its sins. Specifically, over the past year inspectors had fined Pittston a total of $1,303,315 for safety violations. As of April 1, the company had appealed every one of the notices it had received and had paid a grand total of $275 to the government. Meanwhile, on Buffalo Creek, the investigations continue, the reports are compiled, the survivors try to plan a future; the mines, only briefly disrupted by the raging flood, are back at work, and the long trains roll. One month after the disaster, Pittston set up an office to process claims—without, however, accepting liability. The company's official view is still that God did it—and if, by any chance, God should pass the buck back down: "We believe that the investigations of the tragedy have not progressed to the point where it is possible to assess responsibility." It's possible that such a point will never be reached. Who was responsible, for example, for deciding to spend $90,000 �The Pittston Mentality 275 to buy Nicholas Camicia's house, but not to spend the $50,000 that it might have cost—according to one of the federal reports— to build a safe dam at the head of Buffalo Creek? There are sticky questions like that rising in the aftermath of the disaster, questions that will be hard to answer. "There is never peace in West Virginia because there is never justice," said Mother Jones, the fiery hell-raiser of West Virginia's early labor wars. On Buffalo Creek these days there is a strange kind of quiet, a peacefulness of sorts, but it is not the kind that comes with justice. This article was published by The Washington Monthly, May 1972. Reprinted by permission. �This page intentionally left blank �OF By A For 1116-B Charleston, E. Virginia . .. to his as a as as an he to His of to his his in as of the he of a Inc., of the lie his he but he of Trans- in of of to in He as a as by fit of n»ii • *y a in lt i lt i . �278 Colonialism in Modern America Island Creek Coal Co., Director of Civic Affairs for Monsanto, Director of West Virginia Life Insurance Company, director of Huntington Federal Savings and Loan Associates, and President of Cecil H. Underwood Associates, in which venture he was joined by David Francis, president of Princess Coal Company. By contrast, William Marland forgot whom the governor commonly serves. During his term he made the error of recommending a severance tax on coal; he finished life as an alcoholic cab driver in Chicago. . . . CASE STUDY: THE BUILDING OF STATE ROUTE 99 Route 99 cuts a swath through the tops of the beautiful high mountains which mark the southern edge of the Coal River Watershed. The road is only 10.016 miles in length and runs from a junction with State Route 85 in Boone County, slightly north of Kopperston (an Eastern Gas and Fuel Company town in Wyoming Co.), and east to Bolt in Raleigh County. At some unspecified future date there is supposed to be an extension of the road which will turn Route 99 into a major east-west artery connecting Logan and Beckley. The road is made of six inches of asphalt poured over 12 inches of crushed rock—extremely sturdy construction, even for a mountain road. Both firms which built the road obtain more of their money from strip mining than they do from construction. They gouged a tremendous cut for the road with explosives and heavy equipment. This left towering high walls, often on both sides, of bleak rock. Driving over the road, one is not surprised that it cost over $5,200,000 to build initially. However, it is surprising to find that there is almost no traffic on the road, since the State Department of Highways insists that the first criterion used in the building of a road is whether the road will pay for itself in terms of the gas tax taken in by vehicles using the road. A quick check of the state road map shows no sizable town on or around the road and almost no one who will be served by the road as a through route. Why then was this particular road built? The highway department and other officials have offered various reasons. Former Governor Smith suggested that the entire area was going to be a scenic recreation area, but both sides of the road are lined with some of the most devastated countryside imaginable, scarred by �Coal Government ofAppalachia 279 the stark slashes of the 40 strip mines in the area. The central office of the Department of Highways offered a different and far more plausible explanation. Although unsure who it was that made the decision, one high ranking official did point out that the road has * "opened that area up." Acknowledging that almost no one lived in an area to use the road as a through highway connecting any urban centers, he nonetheless allowed as how it was important to open areas up to people to live in and industries to develop. Just which people and which industries the area has been opened up for becomes obvious when the history of the road and the surrounding area is examined. Kopperston is a model company town built near the mouths of many large underground mines by the Koppers Company; it is now operated by Eastern Gas and Fuel Associates, one of the giants of the coal industry. Building such towns is expensive, however, and no such plans were made in connection with the development of the Harris mine, another giant underground operation which opened near the current junction of Route 99 and Route 85 about the same time the road was built. Eastern's new mine employs over three hundred miners, a quarter of whom live in the eastern part of Boone County and Raleigh County. Before Route 99 was built, the only way for these miners to get to work was to drive far north of their homes to Seth and then across or far south along Route 1 through Glenfork and Oceana, then north again. The more than eighty miners who lived east of Bolt live on a road pattern designed for access to Beckley, the seat of Raleigh County. Near Beckley, Eastern was in the process of closing down several worked-out deep mines. In order to keep its miners, it had to find some way to get them to the new mining site. Route 99 provides a perfect connection for people in eastern Boone County and the Beckley region to get to the Harris Mine and back. It serves almost nothing else, or nothing else which existed before it opened that part of Boone County up. Now it serves more than 40 strip mines which are in operation along its length and at one end of the road. At the same time the plans were finalized for building the road, Eastern Coal and Appalachian Power Company jointly indicated an interest in building, with Federal assistance, a rural New Town at what is now the eastern end of Route 99 near �280 Colonialism in Modern America Bolt. As work on the plans for the new city at Fairdale advanced, it became clear that the type town Eastern had in mind was not the type that would obtain federal approval. Initial inquiries were discouraging enough to prevent formal application from ever being made, and the idea of the city was put silently to rest. The major problem was Eastern's nervousness whenever mention was made of attracting other industries into the town. Eastern wanted the town to be housing for its workers. Eastern had been seeking a company town which would not cost Eastern anything, one for which the state and the federal governments would pay. Officials then serving in the highway department were delighted when they first heard that a new city was under consideration for Fairdale. Their joy stemmed from the fact that the plan to build that city (of which they had known nothing when Route 99 was laid out) would serve as an excellent justification for a previously unjustifiable project. They were no doubt even more disappointed than Eastern when the plans never advanced beyond the talking stage. Since the owners of the land over which Route 99 was built are large land companies which hold the land until it can be profitably mined, it is not surprising that they were quite willing to grant the state permission to enter their land and construct the road—even before the price of the land was negotiated and the land bought. As of late 1970, the land (upon which the road lay) had still not been purchased, and the case was slated for adjudication. Their willingness to allow the state on the land becomes understandable when maps of the area are examined. State road maps of the region before the route was completed show no mines along Route 99. The area, now stripped so completely, was almost inaccessible before it could be reached by 99. The highway department personnel who reported on the use of the road always mentioned the semi-trailers carrying explosives and equipment to the strip mines' cutting face in addition to the miners going to and from those sites and the large underground sites further to the west. Most of the land being stripped and most of road right-of-way were owned initially by Eastern Gas and Fuel Associates. It is now owned by Pennva, a giant land-holding subsidiary of another giant coal producer, Pittston Corp. �Coal Government ofAppalachia 281 Another major beneficiary of Route 99 was stripper and road builder Leo Vecillio of Beckley. Vecillio and Grogan, Inc. is the construction firm which built most of Route 99. Ranger Fuel (Leo Vecillio, President) operated 21 strip mines along the road and also 20 mines in Pond Fork now made accessible to them by Route 99. Ranger Fuel marketed its coal through Eastern Gas and Fuel Associates. In 1970, Ranger was also sold to the Pittston Corporation. Nor have expenditures stopped after 1966-1967, when the road was cut and graded through the mountains. In 1970, another contract was awarded to Black Rock Contracting, Inc. of Charleston to pave the road, which theretofore had not received a permanent blacktopping. That added an additional 1.4 million dollars to the figure of 5 million previously spent. The original 5,000,000 dollars used to build this impressive stretch of two-lane road came from a bond issue passed initially to be used on the federal interstate system. If the money had been used for that purpose, it would have been matched by $45,000,000 in federal dollars and could have built over 30 miles of four-lane interstate. The use of the funds on a project which could not qualify for any federal matching money (the Appalachian Regional Commission's money at the time would not go to roads serving only mines) was not illegal. The legislature had provided that the money could also be used for the public roads of the state (a provision intended for any excess of funds after spending on interstates), but it was at least improvident to spend it on a solely state-financed road which in reality cost the state not 5 but 50 million dollars in lost road-building ability. Shortly after the road was contracted for, the federal government, stung by the cost of its military adventures in Southeast Asia, ordered a freeze on interstate building. This freeze was based on the amount of money which the states had previously spent on the program. Thus the Route 99 fiasco continued to hurt the state over the next few years. A delegate from Wyoming County bemoaning the costly construction of Route 99 for special interests pointed out that the policy still continues. In his county one road was being built from Pineville to a new Bethlehem Steel Mine five miles away. �282 Colonialism in Modern America Another road from Pineville to Baileysville was being widened to better serve the Keppler mines. "It's certainly sad that the only way we can get any roads in southern West Virginia is when it benefits the coal operators," the delegate observed. "The people can cry for roads, but the only time they ever seem to be built is when the coal companies need them." ("Roads for Coal Firms Only Pattern Ripped by McGraw" Sunday Gazette-Mail, 28 June 1970.) �THE IN TVA by INTRODUCTION On in his he he 18, 1933, and an in D. the pen Act. of the TVA this act of a and in by in the of of the to the by the In his of of a he TVA the the bill he be a the his the of the as the of be a of TVA to be It to be in the is a he to the a of /or �284 Colonialism in Modern America less federal agencies. It was, the president said, to be a near contradiction as a federal agency: "a return to the spirit and vision of the pioneer/' based in the region it was to serve, concerned with the complexities of national development, but also an agency that "touches and gives life to all forms of human concern." It was, in short, a mere first step in a national experiment where—if it succeeded—"we can march on, step by step, in the like development of other great national territorial units within our borders." Even though it was favored several times by the Supreme Court, and beat government-inspired conspiracies like DixonYates of the early 50's, even though it successfully defeated one of the toughest onslaughts ever organized by private power trusts, and even though it made a remarkable record of achievement imitated world-wide, the TV A idea never sprouted successfully in any other area of the country. A. The Early Record of TVA Few people who have had a course in modern American history need a recitation of the good deeds by the agency in the early days. It tamed the nation's fifth largest river, turning the once flood-prone 650 mile giant into the world's most controlled river. It planted eroded land and invented fertilizers and gave them away. It turned poor farmers into skilled workers, employing at the height of World War II 40,000 people, most of them trained by the agency. Unique even today among federal agencies, it allowed its employees to join unions. When the companies defeated the United Mine Workers* first large organizing drive in the southern coalfields in Fentress County, Tennessee, and then blacklisted the miners, the agency hired more than 200 en masse in 1934. It sold its power only to cooperatives organized and controlled by the people. It did other things, and, importantly, it won the confidence of the people. When the private power companies built "spite lines" into TVA territory, the farmers chopped down the poles. In 20 years the agency built 20 dams. In 1953 the total dam system had cost $24.5 million and averted potential flood damage estimated at more than $51 million. In 1952 alone the navigation system had saved barge shippers probably $10 million, �The Federal Government in Appalachia*. TVA 285 at an expense of $3.5 million. Since 1933 it had reforested 212,000 acres of land and produced 295 million seedlings in its nursery. Over the same period 68,000 farmers had allowed their farms to be TVA test demonstration areas to educate them and their neighbors about new farming techniques. Per capita income had risen from 44% of the national average in 1929 to 60% in 1952. Manufacturing employment opportunities had increased 20% faster in the valley than in the nation. As impressive as the statistics are, they fail to convey the sheer magnitude of the project in a seven state area of 201 counties, the size of New England. The concrete, rock, and earth laid in the path of the river and its tributaries were 12 times the bulk of the Great Pyramids. The volume of water behind its dams would cover the entire state of Illinois to a depth of eight inches. But more important, and surprising, an agency that had a vague mandate to "sell the surplus power not used in its operations" had by its twentieth year become the nation's largest utility, selling power at the lowest prices to a people who in 1933 had almost no knowledge of the electric age. By 1953 the agency's customers—one in 28 farms in the valley had power in 1933—were consuming twice as much power as their national counterparts. TVA's wonders were not accomplished without sacrifices, however, and there were many less than admirable aspects to the agency even in the early days. To build its dams the agency forced the removal of 125,480 people. It has bought or condemned two million acres of land, creating in the place of occasional flooding a giant permanent flood. In the early days, board member Harcourt Morgan, a former president of the University of Tennessee, turned the agency's farm program into little more than mimicry of the policies of the land grant colleges and the extension services. The agency made its peace with the Farm Bureau, even though that organization had advocated that instead of a TVA, the government should sell its $90 million investment in the Wilson Dam at Muscle Shoals to Henry Ford for $5 million. Ignoring its reputed commitment to civil rights, the agency built separate facilities at its dam sites for blacks and whites. (Even today, among the top 37 staffers who meet regularly with the board, only one is a black and one a woman. In the memory of re- �286 Colonialism in Modern America porters who have attended the meetings since they were forced open in 1975 in response to press pressure, the black has never spoken at a meeting and the woman has spoken up only once, when the agency was moving to abolish the home economics division of which she is a part.) But despite the scars, most people agreed with Henry Steele Commager in 1950 that the agency was "the greatest peacetime achievement of twentieth century America." B. The Turning Point From almost the first meeting of the three board members in 1933, the agency was torn over its direction. Arthur Morgan's "human engineering/' his seeming willingness to compromise with Wendell Willkie (then head of the southern power trusts), and his undocumented charges of "evasion, intrigue, and sharp strategy" against Lilienthal and H. A. Morgan, led to his dismissal by Roosevelt in 1938. With Morgan gone, Lilienthal, who believed the agency would live or die by the power program, was victor. His successor as chairman, Gordon Clapp, launched the agency in 1949-53 into building seven coal fired plants—the largest in the world—to meet the power demands on the system. Had it not been for the cold war and the Atomic Energy Commission, which by 1955 was consuming a full half of TVA's output at its Oak Ridge and Paducah uranium enrichment plants, the agency would have had the largest surplus capacity of any utility in the world. To stave off the Eisenhower administration's Dixon-Yates conspiracy and other efforts to reduce its effectiveness, the agency began saluting its contribution to defense above all its other efforts. In that climate, a new generation of leadership—far more cautious, technically oriented, and politically conservative—moved in to make policy at TVA. This new generation saw cheap power as the means to trump all opposition. By the middle 1950's TVA had set a pattern for its future coal purchases, concentrating them in western Kentucky where low grade, high sulfur coal fields were being developed by independent coal firms. Armed with long term contract offers, technical equipment at its plants that would allow the burning of low quality coal, and no hesitancy in purchasing non-union �The Federal Government in Appalachia: TVA 287 coal, TVA's coal buyers, with direction from then General Manager Aubrey J. Wagner and Board Chairman Herbert D. Vogel, set out to guarantee that fuel prices would remain low. Operating against a slumped coal market and a rapidly declining United Mine Workers (UMW) union, the TVA revolutionized the steam coal market. As the nation's largest buyer and with skillful use and re-use of competitive bidding to lower the price of coal proffered to the agency, TVA helped to bankrupt operators in the southern Tennessee, east Kentucky, and other central Appalachian coal fields. Union-organized deep mines, especially those with strong locals that deprived operators of sweetheart contracts from the increasingly corrupt UMW, found themselves unable to remain in business. Not so Appalachian and western Kentucky strip mines. Small strip mine companies like Kentucky Oak Mining of Hazard, Kentucky, found TVA a willing accomplice in granting long term contracts and providing technical assistance in machinery design and mining procedures. In the early 1960's when the "Roving Pickets" movement was shutting down the eastern Kentucky coal fields and violence was causing concern even at the White House, few coal miners realized that the reason for the sweetheart contracts, the withdrawal of the UMW hospital cards, and the starvation economy was in part the steam coal policies that TVA was pursuing quietly in Knoxville. With Kentucky Oak Mining bringing strip mining, a process little practiced until then, to eastern Kentucky on a vast scale, no deep mine could possibly compete with its prices, which were frequently as low as $3 a ton. Meanwhile, in western Kentucky and eastern Tennessee, TVA was building mine mouth steam plants on or near strip mines and signing long term contracts for millions of tons of coal. The prices for the western Kentucky coal, albeit of lower quality, were far below what it cost Appalachian producers to mine coal. With the long term contracts, which amounted to loan guarantees at most financial institutions, the western Kentucky producers opened mines in thick seams, mined with shovels that dwarfed anything ever seen before on the American landscape, and sealed the doom of the independent Appalachian deep mine companies. In the name of cheap fuel, the agency was laying the groundwork for the horrors that now haunt it and its region. �288 Colonialism in Modern America C. A Bitter Harvest When President Kennedy called together his advisers in the early days of his administration to determine how to deal with the disturbing reports that were coming from Appalachia, especially eastern Kentucky, he found them ill-prepared to come up with solutions or, in fact, able to comprehend that what was happening was related in more than a small way to policies being made by a government agency in Knoxville. At one point he sent an aide from his office with an order to find 100 doctors before winter to go to eastern Kentucky; the aide found none. As the administration made other decisions related to the mountains, it ignored the role that TVA had played in the havoc and could play in the solution. In 1961, Kennedy named Aubrey Wagner to the TVA board and appointed him chairman in 1962; in 1963, he named Wagner to the President's Appalachian Regional Commission that was to study how to solve poverty in the mountains. There is no evidence that Wagner or anyone else was ever questioned about, or did themselves question, TVA's role in creating the coal market slump that had brought on the unemployment and the union busting in the mountain coalfields. The UMW leadership, having failed even under Lewis's leadership to get TVA to change its policies, had already turned to Cyrus Eaton to get him to buy up TVA suppliers with union money. By the early 1960's the union was as interested as the Chamber of Commerce in trying to discredit media reports of poverty in eastern Kentucky. TVA's bitter harvest would come home in other ways. By 1974 TVA was buying 37 million tons of coal a year to fuel its 12 steam plants which were producing 80% of its power. A full 72% of the coal was coming from Kentucky, one-half of it strip mined. Disturbingly also, for an agency that once saw itself as "democracy on the march," a full 83% of the coal was now being supplied by a dozen firms, all of them owned by oil or metal conglomerates. In that year, the giants turned on their friendly benefactor. Prices more than doubled. Suddenly TVA's cheap power was no longer so cheap. Giant TVA suppliers like Island Creek, chaired by the once friendly Senator Albert Gore and owned by Occidental Petroleum, demanded a $3 a ton profit guarantee, with a 50-50 split of profit over $6 a ton. TVA signed. Mapco (Mid-America Pipeline Co.), owner of Webster County Coal Corp., raised its price from $8.50 per ton to over $30. TVA �The Federal Government in Appalachia: TV A 289 signed. Mr. Wagner condemned the price increases and damned publicly the increasing energy concentration. This was taken seriously in some quarters, but knowledgeable observers saw a clear connection between past agency policy and the prices. The Mountain Eagle, of Whitesburg, Kentucky, revealed that two coal companies owned in part by Ashland Oil had defaulted on a $25 million TVA loan guarantee made in secret by the TVA board in 1970. In rapid fire fashion, other puzzling coal deals by TVA came to light: (1) it had selected Peabody Coal Co., the world's largest, to open a new deep mine on TVA property in western Kentucky and had agreed to equip the mine and pay Peabody a guaranteed fee per ton, despite the fact that in 1971 Peabody had the worst deep mine safety record in the industry; (2) in 1974 it had signed contracts worth $58 million with a company it was alleging in federal court had defrauded it on past contracts; (3) it was accepting truck loads of rock, mud, and slate disguised as coal at its Kingston Steam Plant, taking action to stop only after repeated exposures of the practice in the media; (4) it had made a secret bid of $1 billion to purchase Peabody. These actions were only a part of a disturbing pattern that began to emerge publicly in the early 1970s. In a June 17, 1974, speech, Wagner told the National Coal Association that portions of the Mine Health and Safety Act "should be eliminated" in the interest of production. But TVA's coal purchasing practices were bothering in other ways too. Because of its policy of buying low heat (approximately 11,000 BTUs per pound as opposed to national utility average of over 12,000 BTUs.) and high sulfur coal, a combination TVA claimed was cheap, the agency was in trouble with the nation's air cleanup program. The Environmental Protection Agency told the agency either to find low sulfur supplies (at least lower than the 4.5% sulfur coal it buys from some suppliers) or install �290 Colonialism in Modern America scrubbers. TVA refused to do either. Wagner called scrubbers "a billion dollar pig in a poke," and launched TVA on a program of building tall stacks at its steam plants to disperse, rather than clean up, its sulfur dioxide emissions. EPA officials, mindful that TVA emits 14% of all utility sulfur dioxide nationally and 52% of the poison in eight states of the South, refused in 1974 to compromise further its stand on constant controls. Aware that failure to clean up TVA would mean a license for private utilities also to defy the law, EPA took its stand in federal courts, where in 1976 it got final word from the Supreme Court that TVA's compliance program violated the clean air laws. The end result of TVA's reliance on its traditional suppliers and low quality coal is that it now finds itself unable to buy enough low sulfur coal to comply with the law. In an October 1976 bid opening, the agency received no significant bid from old suppliers for low sulfur coal and got few worthy offers from other suppliers. Chairman Wagner now claims the reason is that suppliers are holding coal off the market for higher prices. State Representative Lewis McManus, the former speaker of the West Virginia House of Representatives, and a critic of TVA for failing to buy low sulfur coal in his state, says the reason is that the agency will not negotiate with that state's small producers. TVA general manager Lynn Seeber rejoins that the agency has to buy by competitive bidding. McManus points out that the TVA board declared an "emergency" in 1973-74 and re-negotiated most of its long term contracts at higher prices with the conglomerate suppliers. Alone of utilities, it is now negotiating on an "emergency basis" for low sulfur coal. TVA's new trump is nuclear power. It has more nuclear capacity planned than any utility in the country. In March 1975 its Brown's Ferry plant was knocked out for over a year by a worker using a candle to check for air leaks in a cable room. In December 1976 a fire caused by an electric heater destroyed the building that would have been used for start-up operation in 1978 of the Sequoyah nuclear plant. Mr. Wagner says nuclear power is safer than highway driving, cheaper than coal, and that the agency has no intention of backing away from its present nuclear emphasis unless coal power becomes cheaper. And while it pursues the nuclear commitment, the agency is now testing low sulfur coal from Montana as a possible source of supply for its Shawnee steam plant; it is doing so despite the fact that the �The Federal Government in Appalachia: TV A 291 coal is non-union, low BTU, and higher priced than quality low sulfur deep mine coal being purchased by private utilities in Appalachia. D. Economic Status in the TV A Region The Tennessee Valley watershed covers 40,910 square miles of land in seven states and 125 counties. About half the counties overlap with ARC territory in Tennessee, Alabama, North Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, Kentucky, and Mississippi. The TVA power service territory covers the same states but includes 170 counties, making the total counties covered by TVA 201, with a population over 6.7 million. The combined TVA territory covers 80,000 square miles. When TVA was founded in 1933, personal income in these 201 counties was 45% of the national average, or about $168 per capita. In 1974, the figure was $4,262, or 78% of the national level of $5,448. That compares with the southeastern U.S. level (excluding Florida) of 84% of the U.S. level, or $4,602.! In 1933, 62% of the region's jobs were in agriculture; in 1973, 6%. Manufacturing jobs in 1933 accounted for 12% of the work force; in 1973, 33%. Total manufacturing jobs in the valley increased 73% from 1960 to 1973, or 18% faster than the national average. Much of the industrial growth occurred in resource development areas related to TVA's activities, but the direct correlation is not possible to measure. While federal appropriations to TVA have averaged $65 million a year since TVA was founded, the Valley's receipt of federal expenditure ($10,822 per person) is still far below the national average ($16,759 per person) over the period of 19341970; and only one-tenth or less of the Valley's receipts of federal monies were for TVA. The TVA power program is financed from current revenues and from a bond ceiling set by Congress at $15 billion, approximately 3% of the national debt. Since the self-financing reforms of 1959, TVA has paid back to the Treasury all but about one-fourth of the total federal investment in the power system. TVA's only demand on the U.S. Treasury is the approxi- �292 Colonialism in Modern America mately $135 million a year current budget which supports nonpower projects like the National Fertilizer Development Center at Muscle Shoals, Alabama (the Center holds patents on threefourths of the world's fertilizer formulas), a tributary area development program, flood control, and industrial development. The TVA region lags far behind the nation in earnings per worker when compared with the national average on an industrygroup basis. In the region 36% of the workers earn less than $8,000 per year; nationally 16% do. The number of TVA region workers earning between $10-$12,000 per year is 29%, compared with a national percentage of 44. Part of the explanation is that the region has a larger share than the nation of lowwage paying industries. For example, 27% of the valley workers are employed in apparel and textile industries compared with 3% nationally. A 1974 TVA economic outlook report concluded: "The new manufacturing job holders in the TVA region have not yet become the average consumers or owners of wealth of either the Southeast or the nation." One area in which the TVA region clearly outstrips the nation is in the growth of energy-intensive industry. Industries in the first quartile of electric energy use per employee grew at a rate of 4% in the period 1959-64 in the region compared with a decline of 0.3% in the nation. From 1964-74, the same industries grew at a rate of 4% in the region compared with a 0.8% rise in the nation. The growth is unquestionably tied to the fact that TVA rates are at an average 40% below the national average. In the growth of wood-using industries over the past decade the TVA region leads both the nation and the Southeast, the nation by nearly 3 to 1. TVA estimates that 44,000 jobs have been created in manufacturing plants located at major terminal points on the Tennessee River. The agency itself currently employs over 25,000 people, most of them in construction trades. E. Conclusion TVA brought many benefits to its 201 counties. Its cheap power brought havoc to some of those counties and hell to other �The Federal Government in Appalachia: TV A 293 parts of Appalachia. While pursuing this policy the agency has raised the incomes in the TV A region to around 75% of the national average, about the same figure as for all of Appalachia. The agency now is its own chief argument against spreading TV As across the land, and its reform is a necessary first step in making sense of national energy problems and economic problems of the Appalachian South. NOTE figures used in this section were supplied by the TVA Department of Information, Regional Research Department, and the Power Division. �This page intentionally left blank �OF by a a is, the for of the for of of the be to It no be to of the in the a at the fo) to the for for of by but the of the ' Tie the if can for the as as is the in the of or its air can by of has the of has 24, the pp. an Hf Jwi In �296 Colonialism in Modern America ingredient has been missing, good intentions have often failed to produce effective regional action. In many places, certainly in Appalachia, regional mechanisms have tried to operate in a vacuum of citizen awareness and support. The questions raised by the spread of regionalism are as important for the local populations involved as they are for the ultimate success of regionalism itself. Who determines where and how a regional body shall have authority? What is the role for citizens in such determinations? To whom are regional board members accountable, and how are they chosen? How are the agency's criteria and funding priorities set? To give such questions anything less than full attention is in itself poor planning. Appalachia has long been a programmer's guinea pig, the testing ground for a wide array of federal and state efforts. It is significant, therefore, that alarms are ringing in Appalachia, where a small but apparently growing number of people perceive regionalism as a threat to their ability to control local affairs of daily importance. They say that power over such basics as schools and garbage disposal has passed from their own hands into the murky authority of something called a regional agency or district. Appalachia became a testing ground for regionalism in the early 1960's when conditions there had become economically so critical that President Kennedy realized something had to be done about a situation which local and state governments appeared unwilling or unable to correct. The result was a commission charged with producing effective ideas and designing a mechanism by which to implement them. The Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC) was formally and fiscally delivered by President Johnson in 1965. From the beginning ARC billed itself as a "unique federalstate partnership," relying upon gubernatorial support and strategy. Also from the beginning, residents of the area predicted long-range ineffectiveness for the new creature, because it chose to ignore what many felt to be the keys to any lasting economic and social independence for Appalachia: local control and use of the region's vast natural resources, the rape of which had been responsible for much of the area's plight in the first place. The governors and such key Congressional figures as Sen. �Hidden Traps of Regionalism 297 Jennings Randolph wanted no part of that kind of activity, accordingly, the ARC has specialized in the political safety^ of bricks and mortar. At the same time, no broader example of regionalism has been operating in the country these past eight years. Appalachian regionalism has been on both the multi-state and substate level. As for the former, policy and spending decisions are supposed to be based on regional criteria. That is, the governors of the thirteen Appalachian states supposedly view needs on a multi-state, regional level first and consider their own immediate economic or political needs second. The theory is fine, but it hasn't worked out. "All you have is thirteen guys, some of whom see their governors maybe twice a year, sitting around the table trying to bring home their own slab of bacon," says one former high ARC official who feels the experiment is lost. At the substate level, ARC has leaned heavily on its "coordinated investment strategy" of concentrating investments in those areas showing "the greatest potential for future growth," as opposed to the Economic Development Administration's criterion of greatest need. Programs are to be assessed on the prospect that expenditures of money and effort in a given area will spread the results beyond the immediate application. This has meant lumping towns and counties into "growth centers." And growth areas have been translated into political action by creation of the "local development district" (LDD). These bodies are formed so that each will contain at least one "growth center." Often that is their only unifying factor, with some notable cases of bad grouping (foothills with mountain counties, coal with non-coal, high population with low). In any case, it is through the LDDs that ARC follows its coordinated investment strategy. Some planners see that strategy, and the LDDs which go with it, as a national model. But as a model it has received scant scrutiny. For one thing, while some ARC officials sincerely believe that the investment strategy has worked to alleviate Appalachian poverty, statistics from that part of the region which prompted the Appalachian Act in the first place—the mountainous central area—belie any claims of marked improvement. And many observers of the eight-year operation say that investments have �298 Colonialism in Modern America not been placed in areas of real potential growth but in those of real potential votes for the governor and Congressmen who announce each ARC grant. Recent moves by ARC's new executive director to reassert the role of the states in all ARC operations will, some disgruntled ARC staffers feel, further stifle whatever creativity and innovation there may have been by making the motive for funding political advantage rather than real need. Critics make the same basic assessment of the LDD approach. It is through the LDDs that most nonhighway ARC dollars flow; it is from the LDDs that ARC professes to hear the voice of the local people. There's the rub. People in the mountains have become sharply attuned of late to possible threats to their way of life, and many see the LDDs as a major curb to their influence on governmental decisions at the local level. They object to the LDDs as an intermediate layer of government standing between them and the control levels for state and federal moneys. They know who sits on LDD boards—and who doesn't. The contradiction is blatant: ARC views the LDD as the indicator of local will because it includes all the major elected officials in a development district; but some local citizens call the LDD an impediment to local will precisely because of that makeup. They contend that it's hard enough to deal with their own "courthouse gang"; merge six or eight or ten of them together in a single LDD and "you simply just don't have a chance," as one LDD observer put it recently. If this, then, is to become a national model, some basic problems need to be solved. Who represents whom and how and according to what guidelines? No one has thought much about such questions, it having been assumed that, since the need for multi-jurisdictional cooperation was critical, getting something started came first. Therefore the tough questions have yet to be answered. How much constituted authority should the new regional mechanisms be given? And from what source should such power proceed? What matters will best be dealt with regionally, and what is more wisely left in local hands? In short, are these new bodies in any way more or less accountable to the wills of the resident population than the original governments whose function they are complementing or in some cases* replacing outright? �Hidde n Traps of R egio nalism 299 In parts of Appalachia the matter has moved past theory. In western North Carolina, for example, a community observer sees the LDDs as little more than power-structure collectives, with vested interests parading as "elected officials" and "civic group representatives." They equate progress with profit, he says, and the effect of it well may be far afield from what wellintentioned backers of regionalization have in mind: "If the planners keep going, the effect will be to practically disinherit the small farmer who might have moved here generations ago to live out his time or escape service in the Civil War or whatever. And that citizen will be the last person to sit on the development district board." The composition of board members tends to support the fear that LDDs in Appalachia are, at best, staffed from the top down. Even where representatives of the poor or of minority groups do sit on the board, they are generally so outnumbered that they fall silent. Besides, matters handled by LDD boards are often more within the scope of the banker than of the dirt farmer or auto worker. It is thus no surprise that the long-range planning or other actions of such boards often reflect a bias toward a corporate, "free enterprise" model of developmenteven where such a model is sadly inadequate or worse. That's the most basic concern. Even though the majority on a board may be elected officials, they were not elected to serve on that board by that board's jurisdictional area as a whole. A new kind of political chemistry begins to operate when officials elected from different areas come together to make collective decisions for which they cannot be held individually accountable. People in Hill County did not elect their fiscal court judge to vote on matters involving eight other counties; and they surely did not authorize those nine other county officers to vote on affairs which affect Hill County. Perhaps even worse, regional board decisions have often become legislation by the lowest common denominator of what everyone can agree upon. Because of the establishment-affiliated membership of most regional agencies, the criteria thus become what is politically and economically palatable to all vested interests involved. Proponents of regionalism argue that such has often been the case with local government, and they are right. A key difference remains: At the local level, aroused citizens had �300 Colonialism in Modern America the ultimate level of the ballot box; on the regional level they don't. Aside from basic questions of accountability, the lack of direct citizen involvement is not in the interests of regionalism itself. A regional board can make unnecessary mistakes simply because no one was there to spot an obvious blunder in the early stages. Citizens do show up at city council or fiscal court meetings when an important matter is at hand. But regional bodies are remote and little understood, so the interest isn't generated. Decisions of potentially major effect may thus be developed in a vacuum—a situation that is bad for the regional agency charged with problem solving, and far worse for the citizens living with the problem. Once again, the premise that some regional cooperation can establish or improve needed facilities was and is sound. It is shortsighted to talk about a one-county garbage landfill when a larger and better one could be built to serve several counties at far less cost to the individual units. But it has proved to be equally shortsighted and wasteful to attempt any such regional effort without the real participation and consent of the several constituencies involved. Indeed, results can be downright disastrous. In one eastern Kentucky LDD, the board unanimously and enthusiastically backed a plan for a regional sanitary landfill. The state had ordered the closing of all open burning dumps, so something had to be done. But bureaucratic bungling and shortsightedness in assessing local situations resulted in only one landfill being opened to serve all eight counties, and that one isolated, expensive to use, and known to turn into a quagmire entrapping even the most hardy of mountain pickups. When the failure became obvious, local residents wanted to know whom to get mad at. And they heard their county judge— himself the chairman of the landfill board at the time—saying it wasn't his jurisdiction; it was the problem of the regional garbage authority. And who was that? That was established under the auspices of the development district. The what? The development district. Well, could the judge get something done? Folks are just dumping their garbage into the creeks because there's no other place to put it. Sure, the judge promised, I'll raise the �Hidden Traps of Regionalism 301 problem at the next district meeting; we're all concerned about the problem, but we have to work it out together. The garbage mess, as it became known, proved to be the tip of the iceberg of anger. The same development district had endorsed land-use studies for each of its counties. In one of them, residents rebelled at the suggestion in the plan that they move out of their precious hollows and off their hillsides to areas where such "blessings" as sewer and water could be provided. They made it clear that they liked their hollows, had no desire to move away from them unless it was their choice, and in short wanted no part of any regional land-use plan. Mass-meeting pressure forced the county fiscal court not only to drop the land-use plan but to abolish the county planning commission for good measure. Nonetheless, the LDD itself soon came out with its own district wide land-use plan. People again expressed concern, but this time they really didn't know where to focus it. Planners argue that no one unit of government is forced to accept a regionally drafted plan or program. That may be true in theory, but federal and state trends deny it in fact. There is, for example, something called the A-95 procedure of the federal Office of Management and Budget. The stated purpose of the A-95 Memorandum is to foster multi-jurisdictional cooperation in order to assure maximum benefits from an array of federal programs included under A-95's coverage. A-95, says OMB, simply seeks to encourage consistency based on solid planning. Under A-95, each state which so chooses establishes "clearing houses" to review and comment upon all applications for assistance from federal agencies included under A-95. LDDs, for example, have become the A-95 bodies in most Appalachian states. The application goes to the clearing house, which then invites parties it feels appropriate to comment upon the application, and within thirty days the clearing house itself comments. Only then is the application, with comment, passed to the federal agency. Technically, that agency can ignore an unfavorable A-95 review, though under a new revision of A-95 it must now tell the clearing house why it chose to do so. Under the same revision, A-95 still remains noncompulsory; that is, states don't have to adopt the procedure. In fact, however, the increasing trend is to �302 Colonialism in Modern America require the kind of regional review called for in A-95 whether or not it has been formally adopted. A-95 decisions are supposed to be based on grounds of consistency and soundness of planning. But again, good intentions can be offset by realities. Many of the same questions heard in Appalachia about LDDs are being raised there and elsewhere about the A-95 bodies of review. Just who sits on the A-95 board, and who should? If the clearing house doesn't possess the overall plan upon which it is supposed to peg its decisions, on what is the review based? Vested interests of the board members? Personalities or politics of the applicants? If there is a plan, who developed it, and with whose active advice and concurrence? Were all segments of the population included in the planning effort? The questions comprise the list of what makes political units responsive to needs. A-95 raises other basic questions of civil rights. For example, a city with 600,000 people has the same voting power on that A-95 board as a suburban member with 20,000. Aside from one-man, one-vote, the same problems of board composition that arise with LDDs apply here. They are perhaps even more critical with A-95 boards, since both civil rights review and environmental impact determination are left to the auspices of the A-95 body in key areas. Jim Draper, formerly of the Georgia Council on Human Relations, has argued with OMB that A-95 boards "have neither staff nor philosophic inclination" to give minority or low-income people a fair shake. "Moreover," he said, "in many cases there is no representation of these interests on A-95 bodies' boards of directors. Thus, inclusion of such considerations [as civil rights or environment] as criteria for review becomes utterly meaningless—the painting over of rotting wood." Is this, then, a hopeless quagmire, with the potential value and real need for regionalism clouded by equally real inadequacies of accountability and responsiveness? ARC, for example, might well have become a viable and creative institution if it had followed the advice of many of its initial Appalachian backers and dealt with the real problems of basic economic inequity in Appalachia. Instead, it chose to go with the governors, with the entrenched political systems of thirteen states. Some good has resulted, such as ARC health programs, but had the key seg- �Hidden Traps of Regionalism 303 ments of the Appalachian population been sought out and included both at the federal-state and the substate levels, a more lasting and accountable mechanism might have made more than a dent in the problems. ARCs survival might then rest on real accomplishment rather than political muscle. It is certainly not too late to learn lessons from the experience of ARC, its LDDs and such other manifestations of regionalism as A-95. And the need to learn is pressing, since regional plans are likely to spread in ways and to places which will directly affect many more people. Maybe it is necessary to separate regionalism at the urban level from efforts in rural areas where, particularly in the South, the word is that regional government is the government in a growing number of places. Maybe the geographical closeness and heavy populations of urban areas make regional efforts there more viable. Or maybe rural areas with their much more limited financing and resources are the places for real regional concentration. It's going on, in any case, in both parts of America. Some obvious steps could be taken to insure at leas; the possibility of accountability. For a start, districts should be developed according to common realities, according to economic and social factors which might produce a certain jurisdictional cohesiveness. To combine units sheerly on the basis of geography (the north fork of the river) or politics (that's a Congressional district there) is shortsighted if the real goal is to use common facilities for the common solution of common problems. Representatives to a development district should be elected on a one-man, one-vote basis specifically to that post by the people of each constituent unit. At present, elected officials are automatically placed on the boards on the assumption that they represent the will of the people. If special elections were held to fill slots in the regional creation, not only would the special abilities needed by said office be brought out but public attention to and interest in the process might be developed. Such concern does not now exist, except in the negative sense when a district has overstepped its bounds. If regional cooperation is to become a reality, it must begin with the most basic kind of involvement for the population^and that is the vote. Other specific steps can be taken to assure that these new �304 Colonialism in Modern America bodies of government bear at least a resemblance to our traditional concept of democratic institutions. These include hearings and public notification of review matters; A-95 does not require such notice. Out-reach offices staffed by local residents to serve as centers for complaints or suggestions is another obvious step. Without such action, and others like it, any future efforts to broaden the power and scope of multi-jurisdictional authorities will obscure even further the role of the American citizen in the affairs of his government. Hearings may be held this year on a bill by Sen. Joseph Montoya (D., N.M) uto establish a national development program through public works in investment" (S.232). In introducing it last year, Senator Montoya noted that "the inspiration for the approach taken in this bill" is the ARC. He added that the bill "builds on one of the most successful features of the Appalachian program, the strengthening of state and local governments and making them an integral part of the decision-making process on public works investments." The bill would do that by fostering the establishment of "area development districts" nationwide. Public works investments would be made only in those areas which have demonstrated a regional outlook based on sound planning in seeking the money. Significantly, a main witness at last year's Montoya bill hearings (the bill died then for lack of action) was ARC States' Regional Representative, John Whisman. Whisman's credentials as an ardent backer of national regional development go back well over a decade. Concepts developed by him to deal with eastern Kentucky's late 1950s tragedies—multi-county efforts, relying on local elected officials to reflect the people's will— eventually translated into ARC and, Whisman has said "hopefully will go national as well." The Montoya bill may well be the vehicle. Testifying last year, Whisman acknowledged that ARC has perhaps not accomplished what it was supposed to do—provide economic opportunity for Appalachians. Indeed, he said, the problems may well have gotten worse in the 1970's. So what should we do? "To meet these new characteristics of our problems, we need to establish new institutional arrangements in society." He added: "The purpose of the regional development approach" is not primarily "to solve the problems of economic �Hidden Traps of Regionalism 305 lag or unemployment or poverty. Rather, the basic purpose is to solve problems of all kinds, mobilizing our know-how and our funds at all levels of government in a partnership that can forge new and effective solutions." If that is the purpose, what Whisman is effectively talking about is a basic reconfiguration of government. In acknowledging that problems of poverty remain rampant in ARC's Appalachia, he contends that what we really need are new "institutional arrangements/' which, of course, is what ARC was supposed to be in the first place. That reconfiguration is now coming upon us, and we simply have not thought through carefully enough its ramifications upon all strata of society, particularly upon the low-income groups and minorities who themselves are already saying they see it all as a new threat. They may be right. The burden of proof is on the backers of regionalism to prove them wrong. ��RETHINKING THE MODEL ��307 V: A the but A be a to the of an can be a of In a by He points as a of a or ery?" In all the is a and in an of of the In the the the to the of of life of or of us are He the to to the to the if the of of re™ �lf^.:^« f^'.x �A A N, has as a the the to in as the for do of the in the is the is a is is P on the in- be an be a the It of u the as in to has of to be the At the to is the the the in his up to his air to dards. no ii» is aff 24, at �310 Colonialism in Modern America The Japanese have been after the coal, some million and a half tons a year, enough to load 30,000 50-ton railroad cars, or 80 such cars per day. In school we learned that long ago when there were colonies, they shipped raw materials to their mother country and in return provided a market for the mother country's manufactured goods, an arrangement that worked mostly to the advantage of the mother country. The mother country's superior technology and resultant lower costs soon destroyed the colony's traditional native industries. So we ship coal to Japan and in return buy her finished products: steel, cameras, radios, tape recorders, machinery, ships, cars, and motorcycles—a classic colonial relationship. Of course, we can produce some of those finished products ourselves, but they are not competitive in quality or cost. The developing relationship between the U.S. and Japan, I'm postulating (perhaps prematurely), is much like the old relationship between India and Britain, with the Japanese playing their role with far more subtlety than the British. The British ran India with a system of indirect rule, whereby native political institutions were brought into the British structure and under its control. Natives were used to keep other natives in line, and the natives themselves paid for their own policing. In Africa and Asia, the British were successful at this, and in a number of cases were able to keep control after the nominal independence of the countries involved. This is what is often called neo-colonialism. It should also be pointed out that generally in India, Britain did not loot the country directly, but let the wealthy natives keep their wealth and prestige, and did not directly interfere with the country's social structure. Japan's dominance of the United States began at the end of World War II. She got the U.S. to finance the rebuilding of her industrial plant, and, perhaps more importantly, she got the U.S. to forbid her to rearm. This amounted to an agreement by the U.S. to assume the role of defending Japanese interests. Not only do the natives pay for and provide the manpower for their �Appalachia; A Colony Within A Colony? 311 own policing, they also provide both the funds and the manpower to police the mother country's developing neo-empire. We have a mutual security treaty with Japan. We provide the security and they provide the mutual. Jacques Ellul in The Technological Society is of great help in understanding why Japan has been able to neo-colonize the U.S. Technique is more than tools and machinery to Ellul. It encompasses everything which is done for the sake of greater efficiency. Since there is only one best or most efficient way of doing something, technique is totalitarian. Since maximum efficiency is the goal, an aristocracy of technicians arises to determine the one best way. "Planning in modern society," Ellul says, "is the technical method."1 The Japanese have developed an integration of government and the corporate economy, through joint planning and coordination, which most nearly approaches ElluPs model of an advanced technological society (either corporate or socialist): (a) take a firm hold on the economy, (b) manage it on the basis of exact mathematical methods, (c) integrate it into a Promethean society which excludes all chance, (d) centralize it in the frameworks of nation and state (the corporate economy today has no chance of success except as a state system), (e) cause it to assume an aspect of formal democracy to the total exclusion of real democracy, and (f) exploit all possible techniques for controlling men. Insofar as American leaders (corporate and government) realize the gap between Japanese technique and their own, they will move to centralize control and institute planning to a far greater degree than we have yet experienced. Again, all planning is totalitarian. To be carried out, a plan requires at least the threat of coercion. If a person or family is allowed freedom of decision, there is no plan. There are still some significant obstacles in the U.S. to technical progress. The governmental system of checks and balances between Congress, the President, and the courts is inefficient. So is the partial freedom of state and local government from federal control. Corrupt politicians are inefficient, as are a �312 Colonialism in Modern America free press, anti-trust laws, and the ability of citizens to sue government and corporations to block "progress." Thus a small, efficient, tightly controlled, formally democratic island country can effectively exploit a larger, looser, less efficient, more really democratic, continental country. It's the British in India all over again, on a more sophisticated level. Appalachia as a colony within a colony stands in relation to the "advanced," urban areas of the U.S. as the country as a whole stands to Japan. Government and business in the region are less efficient. Non-economic considerations like family and friendship often get in the way here. Short-term profit has yet to give way to efficiency as the basic goal of the economy (or even life), reflecting a rudimentary stage of technology. Some human activities remain valued which are not economic (reducible to a money value), and man, in this "backward" area, remains something more than producing, consuming, economic man. Most strategies for change in Appalachia have been technological strategies, designed in one way or another to "develop" or "modernize" the region. All involve planning by experts. Opposition to these plans, be they for resort development, clear-cutting, dam or road building, for education, health, welfare, or economic development, is seen by the planners as irrational meddling. The plan is rational, be it the plan of the government agency or the plan of radical intellectuals. The complete identity, rather than the resemblance, between corporatism and planning ought to be noted. Corporatism is adapted to a traditional, cultivated, bourgeois mentality; planning to an innovating, proletarian, pseudoscientific mentality. But the attitude of the two is fundamentally the same. And, speaking objectively, the result, insofar as the real structure of human society is concerned, will be identical.^ People are to be manipulated into supporting the plan. Councils, boards, legislatures and the Congress ideally should function as a democratic veneer, which is necessary to give people the illusion that they have some control. �Appalachia: A Colony Within A Colony? 313 True technique will know how to maintain the illusion of liberty, choice, and individuality; but these will have been carefully calculated so that they will be integrated into the mathematical reality merely as appearances. "Development," however, may no longer be possible in Appalachia. The standard of living of middle-class America is now beginning to decline. This is due in part to the new colonial relationship with Japan (i.e., inflation resulting from our having to pay for having fought Japan's war in Vietnam, intense pressures on raw materials markets leading to higher prices, etc.). More fundamental is the fact that the industrial nations of the world are beginning to realize that the natural resources of the world are limited. Donella and Dennis Meadows in The Limits to Growth describe a dynamic model of the world, considering population, industrial output per capita, food per capita, natural resources, and pollution as basic factors. The model is programmed into a computer using historical data from 1900 to 1970 and then projected until the year 2100, assuming "no major change in the physical, economic, or social relationships that have historically governed the development of the world system."5 The result is what the Meadows call overshoot and collapse: Resources are used up; food production rises until all the land is worn out; industrial output rises rapidly and then declines because of starvation. By 2050 industrial output per capita and food per capita are both less than half of what they were in 1900. After numerous other model runs simulating all of the popular remedies to the pollution-population-energy-etc. crisis, the Meadows conclude that the only way to prevent the disaster of overshoot and collapse is to immediately stabilize the world by stabilizing population, setting capital investment equal to capital depreciation, introducing extensive recycling of resources and improved pollution control devices, and increasing the lifetime of all forms of capital. This equilibrium state is sustainable far into the future with an average which is half the present average U.S. income.6 It is thus impossible, considering population growth, arable land, and the finite limits of the earth's resources, to extend the levels of consumption of energy and material goods of the �314 Colonialism in Modern America American suburban middle class to the "poorer" sections of this country, let alone to the majority of the world's people who live in "under-developed" countries. The suburban middle classes are precisely those who have been most reduced to producingconsuming, economic men, valuing themselves through money and not likely to give it up. The Meadows maintain that only through long-term planning can the equilibrium model be attained and disastrous collapse avoided. The sooner this planning begins (and the mandatory implementation of it), the less overtly authoritarian it can be. Since the model shows overshoot before the collapse, it is too late to do anything once the crisis is widely perceived. That is, you don't realize that the river is badly polluted until the fish are dead. Then it's too late to do much about those fish. As long as major decisions in the world are made by those whose primary concern is that their industrial enterprises and national economies shall continue to grow, nothing will be done to move toward equilibrium. To return again to Ellul: "Anything and everything which technique is able to produce is produced and accepted by consumers"7; and "everything which is technique is necessarily used as soon as it is available, without distinction of good and evil."8 Most books about Appalachia tell us that the white settlers of the region were drawn largely from the prisons of England and Scotland and were rough bitter victims of the enclosure movement that was destroying medieval society in Britain. Some were debtors, some thieves, and some may have been Luddites. Trampled on at home and then again in the coastal plains of America, these outcasts went west to the mountains and stayed there to escape civilized society. They wanted no part of the civilized free market, wage labor, law, or class system. They valued most their freedom and independence. They were more than economic men and did not have to prove themselves through wealth. But they survived. There are only two economic systems, according to Ellul. The first exploits technique (efficiency, the one best way, economic man, etc.), while the second "ascribes the chief place to nature."9 This second orientation resembles what some middle-class writers about Appalachia (with technologized �Appalachia: A Colony Within A Colony? 315 minds) have called fatalism. This understanding of the limits of man and the nature of the world, whether religious or not, is more in touch with the reality of the world as reflected in the Meadows' model than is "non-fatalistic" technological understanding which presumes that man can and should control nature. Since the Industrial Revolution, westernized man has had to choose between freedom and wealth. Most have not understood the choice and have thought both were possible. Many have not perceived their loss of freedom. The first settlers knew from bitter experience and chose a real independence. There are many families in the mountains today who remember the old ways of surviving and are relatively free of technological values. They are people for whom economic activity is still a means and ihe end of life. A strategy for survival in the Appalachia region in the face of the interrelated energyfood-population-pollution crisis would seek to support these families and help them protect themselves from "development." The consequence of all "development" programs is to diminish the independence (hence the ability to survive) of the mountain family. All, no matter how well meaning and whether in health, education, economic development, or whatever, leave the family more dependent on outside institutions and more at the mercy of experts. Many of the social programs of the '60's (welfare rights, Head Start, medicare, etc.) had the unintended effect of luring people into an increasingly manipulative, totalitarian system and robbing them of their dignity and values. "No matter how liberal the state, it is obliged by the mere fact of technical advance to extend its powers in every way."10 Appalachia is a colony of technological society, first American and now also Japanese. Within the next 50-70 years, technological society will become increasingly totalitarian and manipulative. It quite possibly will collapse. Self-sufficient families and communities, knowing that nature (God) is greater than man, can survive and retain their independence. Suburbanites, thinking that man can conquer nature (God), being expert in one or two fields and unknowing and dependent in most areas of life, unable to buy gasoline, electricity or food with their money, may perish in great numbers. �316 Colonialism in Modern America Colonialism is an attack upon the land, the culture, and the soul of a people. The three are tightly bound. Losses in one affect the others. Families and communities can resist (passively or actively) or give in (gradually or quickly), disintegrating into a collection of individual consumers of mass-produced identities. Seeing Appalachia as a colony is much more than seeing who controls the profits from the coal mined in the region. It is rather seeing a process of robbing people of their family, community, land, independence, and soul^robbery by people who mean well, and who know that they do it for your own good. �Appalachia: A Colony Within A Colony? 317 NOTES 1 Jacques Ellul, The Technological Society (New York, 1964), p. 184. 2 Ibid.t p. 186. 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid.,p. 139. 5 Ibid., p. 124. 6 Ibid.t p. 165. 7 Ibid., p. 93. s lbid., p. 99. 9 Ibid.,p. 186. w lbid., p. 235. �This page intentionally left blank �A OF AN OR by S. a to In the of the the In of of can be In policy to the was of and the of an as as the for the In In the the and of and the of as an to be My as a of the of by Is in the of is to the a an in the I to J S, is 011 the of « of the of He the �320 Colonialism in Modern America sible grounds for a synthesis, and argue for the alternative formulation suggested above. The Subculture of Poverty Model The subculture of poverty model identifies the internal deficiencies of the lower-class subculture as the cause of the problem. Oscar Lewis is the social scientist most closely identified with this model, and the most widely read exposition of the model applied to Appalachia is JackWeller's Yesterday's People, which borrows an analytic framework from Herbert Cans.1 The subculture of poverty model suggests remedial programs of education, social casework, and clinical psychology. Studies of Appalachian culture in these terms include works by psychiatrist David Looff, social worker Norman Polansky, and sociologist Richard Ball.2 The work on Appalachia in the subculture of poverty tradition has a very limited validity at best because of three problems that the authors fail to confront: deficient research methodology, a blurring of community and social class diversity in the region, and a lack of historical perspective and specification. The methodological approach in the works of Weller, Looff, and Polansky, for example, imports sociological or psychiatric categories and focuses on the pathological. They overgeneralize from problem families to the culture of one or more social classes. They fail to distinguish between the traditional Southern Appalachian subculture and a contemporary subculture of poverty. The limitations of these scientific, clinical classification systems are particularly evident in comparison to the work of such writers as Robert Coles, John Fetterman, Tony Dunbar, and Kathy Kahn, whose humanistic method uses their subjects' own words to characterize Appalachian life-worlds.^ Their descriptions of individuals and families manage to capture the strengths as well as the shortcomings of mountaineers and the diversity of personality types within some common subcultural themes. These accounts of the contradictions in the lives and outlooks of mountain people bear out Helen Lewis' suggestion that many Appalachians are in fact bi-cultural; they take part in the traditional subculture in family and neighborhood life, and in the mainstream culture through employment, formal education, media entertainment, and contact with public agencies. �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 321 The subculture of poverty model in general has been subjected to devastating criticism.4 In the Appalachian case, sociologist Dwight Billings has shown the model to be of little value in explaining the lack of economic development in the mountain section of North Carolina and the contrasting industrialization of the piedmont, for example. Ironically, it was just when the distinctiveness of the Southern Appalachian traditional subculture was fading that the subculture of poverty model was popularized and applied to the region.5 For all the controversy generated in the debate over the subculture of poverty, this model had less policy impact on Appalachia than one might expect. The model did help to rationalize such national programs as Project Head Start, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, and the great expansion of social services that took place in the 1960's. But the subculture of poverty model was not a major influence on the state and federal planners who devised the Appalachian Regional Development Act of 1965. The Regional Development Model Although the literature on development includes disciplines from social psychology to social ecology, the most influential stream derives from neoclassical economics as amended by central place theory.6 The resulting regional development model is concerned with providing economic and social overhead capital, training people for skills for new industrial and service jobs, facilitating migration, and promoting the establishment or relocation of privately-owned industries through a growth center strategy. A modernizing elite is seen as the agent of the developmental process. The major attempt to apply the model within the United States is the work of the Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC) and its associated programs. Niles Hansen is probably the best-known academic proponent of this approach.7 The Appalachian regional development advocates have an academic base in the Departments of Sociology, Economics and Agricultural Economics at West Virginia University, the University of Kentucky, and the University of Tennessee, and such related applied research institutes as the Appalachian Center at WVU, the Center for Developmental Change at UK, and the Appalachian Resources Project at UT. More significantly, this model has a political base in the multi-county Local Develop- �322 Colonialism in Modern America ment Districts established under the ARC program. The LDDs serve primarily as a mechanism for arriving at consensus among regional elites. Through the dual federal-state structure of the ARC, the interests of regional and national elites are reconciled. With its emphasis on mainstream economic theory and the technical aspects of development, the regional development model lays claim to being a scientific, value-free, and non-controversial approach. As such, it is an effective means of providing additional resources to the region without affecting the existing structure of resource control. Actions taken by regional and national planners are defended as technical decisions, rather than political choices among alternative courses of development. The most important decisions are the "non-decisions": the questions that are never raised and the subjects that never make the public agenda.8 Examples include public ownership of the region's natural resources and worker or community-owned and controlled industry.^ The Internal Colonialism Model The issues of power and privilege in Appalachia are never faced squarely by the subculture of poverty and regional development advocates. In reaction to this obvious shortcoming, radical academics and activists looked for a model that emphasized inequality and exploitation. They hit upon the internal colonialism model for reasons that had more to do with the focus of the New Left in the late 1960's—imperialism abroad and oppression of racial minorities at home—than the appropriateness of the model to the Appalachian situation. As the Appalachian radicals apply the internal colonialism model, it has been used to examine the process by which dominant outside industrial interests established control and continue to prevent autonomous development of the subordinate internal colony. The model suggests the need for an anti-colonial movement and a radical restructuring of society with a redistribution of resources to the poor and powerless. Dependency and Neocolonialism The internal colonialism model has emerged from a back- �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 323 ground of the history and theories of colonialism and imperialism and is most directly related to the theories of neocolonialism and dependency that have been developed in the post-World War II period. Dependency theory has been developed primarily by radical economists and sociologists concerned with Latin America, while the theories of neocolonialism and imperialism have been more concerned with Asia and Africa, or the Third World as a whole.10 A vital contribution of the dependency model is the notion of the "Infrastructure of dependency," the structures internal to the dependent country including industrial organization, patterns of urbanization, and social classes. In the exposition by Suzanne Bodenheimer, two examples of the infrastructure of dependency are the patterns of dependent industrialization and the formation of clientele social classes. Characteristics of dependent industrialization include foreign domination of the most dynamic sectors of industry, increasing competitive advantage for foreign monopolistic enterprises over local firms, and the introduction of advanced, capital-intensive technology without regard to resulting unemployment. Clientele classes have a "dual position as partners of metropolitan interests, yet dominant elites within their own societies." They may include not only the industrial bourgeoisie but also the state bureaucracy and other sectors of the middle class when their positions are tied to foreign interests. The infrastructure of dependency is thus "the functional equivalent of a formal colonial apparatus," but insofar as it is internalized and institutionalized "much more difficult to overcome."11 Internal Colonialism The success of the anticolonial movements in the Third World following World War II has undoubtedly contributed to the popularity of referring to a variety of exploitative situations within both developing and advanced industrial countries as internal or domestic colonialism. Through conceptual confusion or carelessness, internal colonialism has been used to designate situations of stratification by class, race, ethnicity, or geography, alone or in various combinations. It is also used to describe absentee industrial ownership, although this is a characteristic feature of uneven and polarized capitalist development.12 In- �324 Colonialism in Modern America eluded among such internal colonies have been the U.S. South, northern New England, the northern Great Lakes region, the Southwest, the "Celtic periphery" of England, southern Italy, and so on. 1 ^ One explanation may be that the vocabulary of colonization is more comfortable than that of class conflict, and regional or ethnic chauvinism is more acceptable than talk of socialism. Internal colonialism is a useful concept if defined in a rigorous sense rather than used as an all-inclusive catchword. Two precise definitions with varying degrees of restrictiveness are advanced by Pablo Gonzalez-Casanova and Pierre van den Berghe. Gonzalez-Casanova seeks to distinguish internal colonialism from a class structure with a geographic or racial aspect: Internal colonialism corresponds to a structure of social relations based on domination and exploitation among culturally heterogeneous, distinct groups. . . .It is the result of an encounter between two races, cultures, or civilizations, whose genesis and evolution occurred without any mutual contact up to one specific moment. . . . The colonial structure and internal colonialism are distinguished from the class structure since colonialism is not only a relation of exploitation of the workers by the owners of raw materials or of production and their collaborators, but also a relation of domination and exploitation of a total population (with its distinct classes, proprietors, workers) by another population which also has distinct classes (proprietors and workers).^ In short, the Gonzllez-Casanova definition requires a dual class structure: two class systems, one dominant and the other subordinate, each of which may be differentiated to a greater or lesser degree. This appears to be a useful minimal definition of internal colonialism, although it is broad enough to include a variety of dominant-subordinate group relationships. The most restrictive definition of internal colonialism is developed by van den Berghe in a recent work. His view, in part a reaction to the overly broad use of the term, is worth quoting at length: In my opinion, the concept of internal colonialism, when �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 325 so diluted, loses all of its use for purposes of social science analysis. I shall therefore propose to treat internal colonialism as an ideal type with the following characteristics: 1) Rule of one ethnic group (or coalition of such groups) over other such groups living within the continuous boundaries of a single state. 2) Territorial separation of the subordinate ethnic groups into "homelands," "native reserves," and the like, with land tenure rights distinct from those applicable to members of the dominant group. 3) Presence of an internal government within a government especially created to rule the subject peoples, with a special legal status ascribed to the subordinate groups. . . 4) Relations of economic inequality in which subject peoples are relegated to positions of dependency and inferiority in the division of labor and the relations of production. Such a definition of internal colonialism excludes mere regional differences in economic development, mere class differences in the system of production, and, a fortiori, differences based on age, sex, slave status, caste, sexual behavior (e.g., homosexuality), physical handicaps, and countless others. The usefulness of the concept to understand the situation of a group is a function of that group's approximation to the characteristics of the ideal type. For instance, in the United States, internal colonialism describes the position of Amerindians quite well, of Chicanos somewhat, of blacks poorly, of Appalachian whites hardly at all, and of women, old people, homosexuals and convicts only by the most fanciful stretch of the academic imagination. This is not to say that some of the groups excluded from my definition of internal colonialism may not be as badly or worse off than the denizens of the internal colonies. Their position is fundamentally different, however, and, hence, the internal colonial model is a poor one to understand their predicament. Internal colonialism is but one of many ways of getting the short end of the stick.-^ Gonzalez-Casanova's criterion of a dual class structure appears to include points one and four of van den Berghe's ideal type. �326 Colonialism in Modern America The latter would also require territorial separation and a special governing unit for full correspondence to the internal colonialism model. I find it most useful to adopt a definition between Gonzalez-Casanova and van den Berghe, thus requiring economic exploitation, a dual class structure based on ethnic differences, within one or more distinct geographic regions. In other words, I would place internal colonialism as a special case within the theory of dependent capitalist development. Internal Colonialism Applied to Appalachia I can find no use of the colonialism analogy to the Appalachians prior to the early 1960's. During the unionization battles of the 1930's, the Left press emphasized themes of exploitation and class conflict along classic Marxian lines in their articles about the Appalachian coalfields.16 Only after the internal colonial model had been applied to blacks did writers on Appalachia begin to speak in terms of colonialism. In his best selling 1962 study Night Comes to the Cumberlands, Harry Caudill makes only a passing reference to colonialism; by 1965 he begins to use the internal colonial designation.17 The theme was quickly picked up by activists and radical intellectuals in the Central Appalachian area, particularly the group associated with the Peoples' Appalachian Research Collective and its journal, Peoples' Appalachia. Helen Lewis and her associates have attempted a detailed application to Appalachia of Blauner's model of the process of internal colonization of black Americans. I find the application of Blauner's model of internal colonialism, broad as it is, to Appalachia to be strained at some key points. The parallel to "forced, involuntary entry" by the colonizers is nowhere near as strong as the case of enslaved blacks from Africa or the conquered Native American tribes or the Mexican people of the Southwest. In the elaborated version of his argument, Blauner distinguishes between "colonized and immigrant minorities" and suggests that the circumstances of entry of white European ethnic immigrant groups is different in character from that of blacks and possibly other people of color in the United States. The situation of Appalachian people is clearly a third variant if they are to be treated as a minority at all; the mountaineers were an early settler group established for �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 327 sixty to a hundred years before the expansion of industrial capitalism into the region. Blacks and immigrant ethnic groups have played an important role in the development of the Southern Appalachian coal industry, particularly in West Virginia, but the focus of the Appalachian internal colonialism theorists has not been on such groups.18 The deception and fraud used in Appalachia by the vanguard of land, timber, and mineral agents do not appear to differ in kind from those techniques used generally by capitalists and their agents throughout the country in the period of industrial expansion. On the question of "administration by representatives of the dominant power/' the application of Blauner's internal colonialism model to Appalachia suffers from his emphasis on "police colonialism/' the direct application of force by members of the dominant group. Blauner has not put enough emphasis on the neocolonial mechanism of an indigenous stratum of officials ruling in the interests of the dominant group. Helen Lewis suggests that the study of such local elite groups in the mountains is of great importance,1^ but this conclusion and suggestions of what mechanisms to look for flow more readily from the more general dependency model than from the narrower internal colonialism model. The parallel to "racism as a principle of social domination" really breaks down in the Appalachian case. There may be prejudice against "hillbillies," but it is essentially based on bias against the lower classes, not all the people of the region.20 There is no parallel to the dual class structures required by Gonzales-Casanova's definition of internal colonialism. Mountaineers are able to "pass" into mainstream America both through migration and, for some, through integration into the business elite in the mountains. 21 White Appalachians generally have a potential for social mobility not matched by racial minorities. The traditional Appalachian subculture may be becoming a museum piece, but this is a situation far from white Appalachians as a group being accorded the near-caste position of some racial minorities in the United States. Applying an additional characteristic of internal colonialism from van den Berghe's definition, I can find no evidence of "an internal government within a government especially created to rule the subject peoples." The Appalachian Regional Commis- �328 Colonialism in Modern America sion is not a functional counterpart of the Bureau of Indian Affairs. The people of Appalachia have no distinct legal status distinguishing them from other residents of the United States, as Native Americans do in some instances. Appalachia appears to provide a very poor fit to any strict definition of internal colonialism. Cultural Hegemony and Capitalist Domination Much of the attraction of the internal colonialism model, including its application to Appalachia, derives from its powerful analysis of the destruction of indigenous culture in the process of establishing and maintaining domination over the colonized group. Religion and education can play a major role in the destruction of traditional culture. The missionary movement in Appalachia can be seen as aiding, often inadvertently, the process of domination, as Lewis, Kobak and Johnson have described. James Branscome and Mike Clark have brought this analysis up to date by examining the effect of schooling on Appalachian culture in the current period. These arguments hit the mark, but is cultural domination a distinctive feature of internal colonialism rather than class exploitation? A common and understandable misconception, derived in part from the stress on economic determinism in vulgar Marxist analysis, is that culture plays an insignificant part in the structure of class domination under capitalism. The colonial model is seen as distinctive by Blauner for its emphasis on this ignored area: ". . .the colonial attack on culture is more than a matter of economic factors such as labor recruitment and special exploitation. The colonial situation differs from the class situation of capitalism precisely in the importance of culture as an instrument of domination."22 Orthodox Marxism has been particularly weak in its analysis of culture, and Blauner misses the importance of ideological hegemony in the establishment and maintenance of capitalist domination. For the beginnings of an adequate theory of the role of culture in capitalist societies we must turn to the Western Marxist tradition and such writers as Georg Lukacs, Antonio Gramsci, and the Frankfurt School theorists. The concept of cultural hegemony derives from Gramsci and emphasizes the obtaining of consent rather than the �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 329 use of force in the perpetuation of class structures. Gwynn Williams provides a useful summary of Gramsci's notion of hegemony: "an order in which a certain way of life and thought is dominant, in which one concept of reality is diffused throughout society in all its institutional and private manifestations, informing with its spirit all taste, morality, customs, religious and political principles, and all social relations, particularly in their intellectual and moral connotation."2^ xhe destruction of indigenous culture may be more conspicuous in the colonial situation, but a comparable process works to erode all ethnic and working-class cultures in advanced capitalist countries, a process which has perhaps advanced furthest in the United States.24 A few radical economists have attempted to avoid the problems of the colonialism analogy by returning to a traditional Marxian analysis of Appalachia in the context of capitalist exploitation and have suggested the fruitfulness of a longitudinal study of the removal of surplus value from the region over time. But this focus on economic relationships loses the valuable emphasis of the internal colonialism model on the role of cultural domination and the contribution of the dependency formulation on the * Infrastructures of dependency." Perhaps the best formulation of a research project from the perspective of radical economics has been made by Richard Simon, who reviews the historical development of the West Virginia economy in the context of dependency theory, suggesting relationships with the social and political structures of that state and with the introduction of federal government programs in the 1960's.25 It is time to synthesize the best of the models so far put forward and develop a more accurate and comprehensive theory of poverty and underdevelopment in Central Appalachia. Appalachia within an Advanced Capitalist Society It is tempting to characterize the subculture of poverty, regional development, and internal colonialism models as, respectively, conservative, liberal, and radical models of barriers to social change. While this would contain a substantial amount of truth, the description would be misleading in one respect. From a perspective that I will develop briefly here, the three models are not, strictly speaking, mutually exclusive alternatives. �330 Colonialism in Modern America Interpreted in terms of a framework developed by Jurgen Habermas, they represent different dimensions of social existence. A Framework for Synthesis For Habermas, there are three fundamental conditions or media through which social systems are maintained: interaction, work, and power or domination. All human societies use these means to resolve the problems of preserving life and culture. Corresponding to each of these media are the human "interests" in mutual understanding, technical control, and "emancipation from seemingly 'natural' constraint."2^ A solution to the problems of Appalachian poverty and underdevelopment would have to be concerned with each of the three modes of culture, technique, and domination. Habermas' distinction provides a basis for viewing cultural adaptation, technical development, and redistribution of power as potentially complementary aspects of social development. Our models, therefore, are not merely three selected from a long list of possible models of poverty and underdevelopment. They represent fundamental dimensions of social life and may well be exhaustive of the possible alternatives if stated in a sufficiently general form (which none of the three current models are). The subculture of poverty model can thus be seen as only one part of a broader framework of explanations rooted in the tradition of cultural idealism. Affirmative cultural approaches toward Southern Appalachia, exemplified by William G. Frost and John C. and Olive D. Campbell, are the obverse side of the coin from the pejorative tradition. Although they come to opposite conclusions about the virtue of the traditional mountain subculture, they are contending on the same turf. The regional development model, from this synthetic perspective, is seen as resting within the contemporary technocratic image and ideology of science. As John Friedmann points out, the regionalism movement of the 1930's, as personified by Howard Odum and others, was rooted in cultural idealism. The new regionalism of the 1960's, embodied in the ARC, discarded this grounding in favor of the technical reason of neoclassical economic theory.27 The internal colonialism model is, similarly, one component of a broad range of theories that contribute to a critique of power and domination. �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 331 This synthetic view helps explain why writers widely considered to be champions of a certain model of Appalachian underdevelopment also draw on other models. Caudill, for example, is best known for his description of the Cumberland Plateau as an example of colonialism, but in Night Comes to the Cumberland^ he also paints a pejorative picture of the subculture of the eastern Kentucky poor. In one essay Caudill appears to embrace many aspects of the developmental model, while in his most recent work he has re-emphasized a genetic explanation. From the other side, Weller is best known for his subculture of poverty characterization in Yesterday's People, yet he has recently described Appalachia as "America's mineral colony."28 Such examples can be viewed as cases of inconsistency, confusion, or conversion. They can also be seen, at least in part, as attempts to grapple with the complexity of analyzing the problem of Appalachian development. To suggest that a dialectic of mutual interaction takes place among the modes of culture, technique, and power is, of course, not to argue that each of our three models of Appalachian underdevelopment is to be taken with equal seriousness. I have suggested that the history of the Appalachian region is best understood in the context of industrial capitalist development. The internal colonialism model raises important questions about wealth, power, and domination without offering a satisfactory characterization of the situation of Central Appalachia. My synthesis of the three models leads to the conclusion that Appalachian poverty and underdevelopment need to be placed within a broader critique of domination. From this perspective, Central Appalachia must be analyzed in the context of advanced capitalism in the United States. In some instances (analyzing the role of the Japanese steel industry in providing capital for opening new coal mines in the region, for example), we may have to expand our horizon to the framework of the world capitalist system. In a recent work Habermas formulates a model of advanced capitalism, which he characterizes by two features: the "process of economic concentration"—the growth of national and multinational corporations—and the "supplementation and partial replacement of the market mechanism by state intervention."2^ Habermas goes on to analyze advanced capitalist societies in terms of their economic, administrative (state), and legitimation �332 Colonialism in Modern America systems and the resulting class structures. Applying a similar analysis will contribute to a deeper understanding of the position of Central Appalachia. The Economy There is growing agreement among economists critical of neoclassical theory that a three-sector model is necessary to characterize the advanced capitalist economy in the United States. John Kenneth Galbraith delineates the market system, the planning system, and the state. As a rough demarcation, Galbraith's planning system consists of the largest "one thousand manufacturing, merchandising, transportation, power and financial corporations producing approximately half of all the goods and services not provided by the state/' Making up the market system are the remaining twelve million firms which produce the other half of the non-state output of goods and services.30 The market system includes farmers, small retail and service establishments, construction and small manufacturing firms, and the arts. Whereas the workings of the market system bear some resemblance to the model of competition embodied in classical economics, the planning system is oligopolistic and its stability depends on the intervention of the state. James O'Connor has developed a similar model with a much deeper analysis of governmental activity. O'Connor also divides private capital into two sectors: a competitive sector (roughly parallel to Galbraith's market system) and a monopoly sector (somewhat smaller than Galbraith's planning system). O'Connor's state sector includes two categories: "production of goods and services organized by the state itself and production organized by industries under contract with the state."31 Approximately one-third of the labor force in the United States is employed in each of these three sectors. The monopoly and state-contract sectors tend to be capital-intensive industries, while the competitive and state service sectors tend to be labor intensive. As a consequence, wages tend to be high in the monopoly and state sectors and low in the competitive sector. Unions tend to be strong in the monopoly and state sectors and weak in the competitive sector. Both product and labor markets tend to be unstable and irregular in the competitive sector, a circumstance which has fostered the development of segmented labor mar- �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 333 kets.32 State sector expenditures, in O'Connor's model, are divided into two categories, social capital and social expenses, with social capital being of two kinds, social investment and social consumption. This distinction between social investment and social consumption roughly parallels Niles Hansen's distinction between economic and social overhead capital. Social investment, in O'Connor's terms, "consists of projects and services that increase the productivity of a given amount of labor-power and, other factors being equal, increase the rate of profit." Examples include government-subsidized roads, railroads, and industrial parks. Social consumption "consists of projects and services that lower the reproduction costs of labor and, other factors being equal, increase the rate of profit." Social consumption expenditures fall into two categories: goods and services consumed collectively and social insurance. Examples of the first include school, recreation and medical facilities, and the second, Social Security, workman's compensation, unemployment insurance, and health insurance. Most of the programs developed through the Appalachian Regional Commission are thus in the areas of social investment and the first, or collective, category of social consumption. Finally, social expenditures "consist of projects and services which are required to maintain social harmony—to fulfill the state's legitimization' function. They are not even indirectly productive." O'Connor includes welfare and military programs in this category.3 3 This model of the advanced capitalist economy in the United States has some obvious implications for an analysis of the Central Appalachian region, particularly in regard to the coal industry. The coal industry is unusual, though not unique, in having both substantial monopolistic and competitive sectors. Manufacturing and mining industries are generally concentrated in the monopolistic sector, while the competitive sector is primarily composed of small factories and services. The coal industry thus offers an opportunity for a comparative study of these two sectors within a single industry. Topics for investigation include relative rates between the two sectors of capital investment, wage levels, productivity, technological innovation, unionization, and influence on the legislative, administrative, and judicial institutions of the state that affect the coal industry. Contrasting business ideologies between the two sectors need to �3 34 Colonialism in Modern America be explored. Since Central Appalachia contains the largest concentration of firms in the competitive sector of the coal industry, it is a particularly appropriate location for a study of the two sectors. The Role of the State The institutions that compose the state, to take Ralph Miliband's definition, are the executive, the legislative, the administrative (civil service bureaucracy), the military and police, the judiciary, and the subcentral governmental units. This system is part of a broader political system, which includes political parties, pressure groups, and a variety of other institutions not defined as political, such as corporations, churches, and mass media. A crucial question is the relationship between the state (and state elite) and the dominant economic class. Miliband recalls that "it is obviously true that the capitalist class, as a class, does not actually 'govern.' One must go back to isolated instances of the early history of capitalism, such as the commercial patriciates of cities like Venice and Lubeck, to discover direct and sovereign rule by businessmen."34 Contemporary analysts of the role of the state in advanced capitalism, including Miliband, O'Connor, and Nicos Poulantzas, 35 emphasize the relative autonomy of the state system. From their viewpoint, the familiar statement of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels that "the modern State is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie" has been vulgarized. As Miliband comments, "The notion of common affairs assumes the existence of particular ones; and the notion of the whole bourgeoisie implies the existence of separate elements which make up that whole. This being the case, there is an obvious need for an institution of the kind they refer to, namely the state; and the state cannot meet this need without enjoying a certain degree of autonomy."^ But the summary statement of Marx and Engels is still too abbreviated; the state reflects not simply the common interests of the whole bourgeoisie but a compromise between those interests and the interests of subordinate classes. The balance of the compromise depends in part on the level and extent of political struggle by the subordinate classes. �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 335 In a recent work that draws on Miliband, Poulantazas, and O'Connor, Ian Gough develops the role of state expenditures as concessions to working class struggles. The expansion of social services and social insurance since the Depression of the 1930's has meant that an increasing amount of the compensation of the labor force has come in the form of social wages. Indeed, "the strength of working-class pressure/* he writes, "can roughly be gauged by the comprehensiveness and the level of the social benefits." Although such programs are tailored and modified to accommodate the interests of the dominant class, Gough notes: It is essential to distinguish their concrete historical origins from the ongoing function they play within that particular social formation. Social policies originally the product of class struggle will, in the absence of further struggle, he absorbed and adapted to benefit the interests of the dominant classes. On the other hand, whatever their particular function for capital at any time, the fact that social services are also an integral part of the real wage level of the working class means that they are fought for in much the same way as money wages, in economic and political class struggle.^ In a similar fashion, the class distribution of the burden of taxation also affects the real wages of the working class. This recognition of the importance of social services, income transfer programs, and tax policy helps us understand and situate such social movements in the Central Appalachian region as the Black Lung Associations and their fights for workmen's compensation, clinical treatment programs, expanded benefits from the UMWA Health and Retirement Funds, and the severance tax on coal. It also illuminates the role of the federal bureaucracy and judicial system in the reform of the UMWA and its Health and Retirement Funds, the struggle for mine safety and health, and the expansion of a variety of benefits from social security to food stamps to community mental health services. The Legitimation System Habermas argues that formal democratic institutions which �336 Colonialism in Modern America allow universal adult voting in elections may obtain sufficient "diffuse mass loyalty" in the absence of substantive participation in public policy formulation if two conditions are present: "civic privatism" and an ideology that justifies elite rule. Civic privatism involves a withdrawal from the public realm into "career, leisure, and consumption." Both the "theory of democratic elitism" favored by mainstream American political science and the mystique of technical expertise promoted by theorists of public administration serve to legitimate the absence of public participation in political decision making.^ 8 Among the working class in Central Appalachia, legitimation of the political system appears to be weak at the level of specific institutions yet remains strong at a diffuse level ("patriotism"). Cynicism about public officials abounds, with ample justification. The retreat to privatism is possibly facilitated by the extended family systems, which may provide sources for satisfaction even in the absence of substantial material comforts. Yet agencies of government frequently seek legitimation through a rhetoric of democratic participation. For example, TVA's claims of "grass roots democracy" disguised a policy of conceding the farm and related rural development programs to the local agricultural elites in exchange for a free hand for federal planners in public electrical power generation.^ 9 xhe ARC uses the Local Development Districts as the "local building blocks" of a program of federal-state cooperation. In Central Appalachia, such claims have seldom received an affirmative embrace from the working class, but they have met with acquiescence more often than active opposition. The Class Structure A common rhetorical excess is the description of the class structure of Central Appalachia as polarized into the wealthy and the poor. For Harry Caudill, there are "two Appalachias. . .side by side and yet strangers to each other. One, the Appalachia of Power and Wealth,. . .headquartered in New York and Philadelphia, is allied to mighty banks and insurance companies. . . .The second Appalachia is a land devastated. . . .Its people are the old, the young who are planning to leave and the legions of crippled and sick."40 The reality, of course, is far more complicated. The question is not merely one of polemical �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 3 37 license. Any strategy for social change must make a thorough assessment of the potential interest in change of the various class groupings in the region. It is generally agreed that advanced capitalism has led to a proliferation of class and occupational groupings between the classic proletariat (the industrial working class) and the bourgeoisie of monopoly capital. The expansion of service industries with its accompanied increase in grey-collar and white-collar employment has been one aspect of this increase. The development of what Galbraith calls the "educational and scientific estate" is another. Despite the increased level of average per capita income, the distribution of shares of income and wealth has changed little in the past forty years. The "myth of the middle class" has been dispelled by careful analysis of confusing census occupational categories, and the continuing existence of a "working-class majority" has been established.41 In Central Appalachia, the expansion of state expenditures has helped create sizable intermediate class groupings of public workers (in education, local government, and public services) and workers in industries heavily subsidized by public funds (health services particularly). Unionization efforts have been made recently among municipal and hospital workers. These elements of the "new working-class" have taken their places alongside such long-established groups as coal miners, workers in small factories, small farmers, country merchants, county-seat retailers, bankers, professionals, independent coal operators, and managers for the nationally-based coal companies in the monopolistic sector, in addition to household workers, the welfare poor, and others outside the standard labor force. The class structure is obviously complex, and its changes need to be analyzed over time, particularly in relation to changes in the coal industry and the growth of state expenditures. Radicals must learn to paint portraits of the region in which a variety of working people can recognize themselves. The Internal Periphery In a market economy, certain regions within a country will experience economic rise or decline in response to such circumstances as demographic changes, technological advances, and the �338 Colonialism in Modern America depletion of resources. On this the theorists of regional growth, urban hierarchies, and uneven capitalist development are agreed. As the core-periphery distinction is presently used by several schools of economic thought, it seems reasonable to me to apply the term peripheral to such regions within advanced capitalist countries as Appalachia which share many of the characteristics of underdevelopment, poverty, and dependency found in the peripheral countries of the Third World. Certainly the term is a more appropriate analogy than internal colony, which, as I have illustrated, should be restricted to a special case. Immanuel Wallerstein has recently begun developing a more rigorous theory of the relationship of core and peripheral countries in the capitalist world economy and has elaborated an important intermediate case, that of the semi-peripheral countries (a distinction that corresponds in part to the levels of development within the Third World countries).42 In Wallerstein's view, the semi-peripheral countries perform two important functions for the capitalist world system, one political and one political and economic. The political function is to avoid a sharp polarization into rich and poor countries that would foster an alliance among the poor nations. The intermedite sector develops a third set of interests based on its aim of making it into the core. The political-economic function of the semi-periphery is to provide an outlet for capital investment from core countries in low-wage industrial production. The analogy between peripheral countries in the world system and peripheral regions within core countries obviously should not be pushed too far. As John Friedman points out, there are important differences between regions and countries, and between poor countries and poor regions in rich countries.4 ^ The most important difference is that countries have a relatively greater degree of closure in their boundaries. Through the use of tariff barriers, control over investments, and other means, countries can achieve a relative degree of insulation from the world economy. Constitutional and political limitations on the restraint of commerce prevent any state within the United States (much less multi-state regions without separate political authority) from following similar policies of restricting trade, investment, or population movements. These qualifications noted, Wallerstein*s three-tiered system �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 339 may find an analogue within advanced capitalist countries. Regionalization and regionalism, the economic and ideological manifestations of peripheral status, may well join the racial, ethnic, and sexual aspects of the division of labor as functional barriers to class polarization of conflict over inequality.44 The possibility of attaining semi-peripheral status may preclude a strong alliance of one region with another worse off. We see evidence of this in the successful move of the Northern and Southern Appalachian regions to standard semi-peripheral status within the United States while Central Appalachia remains behind. Given the general "fiscal crisis of the state," the federal government seems reluctant to commit resources to the elimination of regional inequality—the elevation to semi-peripheral status of all internal peripheral regions. The executive branch has resisted attempts of the Congress to expand the Title V regional commissions in the manner of the ARC. Peripheral regions remain functional for the system of advanced capitalism in the United States much in the way that poverty in general has positive functions. 45 Conclusion Analogies are valuable in social analysis insofar as they summarize and illuminate certain features of the subject under investigation. In this sense the analogy between the situation of Central Appalachia and that of colonized countries has been stimulating and fruitful. It has focused attention on the acquisition of the raw materials of the region by outside corporate interests and on the exploitation of the local work force and community at large resulting from the removal of the region's natural resources for the benefit of absentee owners. But analogies, while providing insights into some aspects of reality, can obscure or distort others. A loose analogy is no substitute, in the long run, for a precise theory that can lead to more detailed investigations. In this sense the internal colonialism model applied to Central Appalachia needs to be superceded by a model of peripheral regions within an advanced capitalist society. The question is more than academic. At issue are the goals and strategy of a movement for social change. Writers using the internal colonialism model have been ambiguous about what solution is appropriate for Appalachian problems. Taking the �340 Colonialism in Modern America term "colony" in its strongest sense, that of a suppressed nation, would prescribe an Appalachian nationalism aiming at secession and an independent nation-state. No one has proposed such a solution, although a weaker version—a state of Appalachia—has been mentioned.46 Nor have many seriously suggested that the region would be better off if all the coal companies were owned by the local elite of "hillbilly millionaires"—a sort of bourgeois decolonization—instead of the national and international energy corporations, although an exclusive focus on absentee ownership might lead to that conclusion. If the heart of the problem is defined as private ownership of the coal industry, then the possibility of public ownership, perhaps even limited to a regional basis, is suggested.47 If the problem is defined as capitalist relations of production generally, then the alternative—some form of socialism—takes on a dimension that goes far beyond the nationalization or Appalachianization of the coal industry alone. It is this challenge of defining socialist goals and strategies that is presented by the model of peripheral regions within an advanced capitalist society. �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 341 NOTES ^Oscar Lewis, The Children of Sanchez (New York: Random House, 1961), pp. xxiv-xxvii; Jack E. Weller, Yesterday's People: Life in Contemporary Appalachia (Lexington: Univ. of Kentucky Press, 1965); and Herbert J. Cans, The Urban Villagers: Group and Class in the Life of ItalianAmericans (New York: Free Press, 1962). H. Looff, Appalachians Children: The Challenge of Mental Health (Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky, 1971); Norman A. Polansky, Robert D. Borgman, and Christine DeSaix, Roots of Futility (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1972); Richard A. Ball, "New Premises for Planning in Appalachia," Journal of Sociology and Social Welfare, 2 (Fall 1974), 92101. ^See Robert Coles, Migrants, Sharecroppers, Mountaineers, especially Chs. 5, 6, 9 and 12, and The South Goes North, Ch. 6 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1972); John Fetterman, Stinking Creek (New York: Dutton, 1967); Tony Dunbar, Our Land Too (New York: Random House, 1969), Part II; Kathy Kahn, Hillbilly Women (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1972). A good contrast of the two approaches is Mike Maloney and Ben Huelsman, "Humanism, Scientism, and Southern Mountaineers," People's Appalachia, 2 (July 1972), 24-27. The methodological basis of the humanistic approach is sketched in John R. Staude, "The Theoretical Foundations of Humanistic Sociology," in Humanistic Society: Today's Challenge to Sociology, ed. John F. Glass and John R. Staude (Pacific Palisades, CA: Goodyear, 1972), pp. 262-270. ^"In addition to Charles Valentine's Culture and Poverty, see Jack L. Roach and Orville R. Gursslin, "An Evaluation of the Concept 'Culture of Poverty,' " Social Forces, 45 (March 1967), 383-392; the comments on Valentine in Current Anthropology, 10 (April-June 1969), 181-201; and the essays in The Culture of Poverty. A Critique, ed. Eleanor Burke Leacock (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1971). ^Dwight Billings, "Culture and Poverty in Appalachia: A Theoretical �342 Colonialism in Modern America Discussion and Empirical Analysis," Social Forces, 53 (December 1974), 315-323; and Thomas R. Ford, "The Passing of Provincialism," Ch. 2 in The Southern Appalachian Region: A Survey, ed. Ford (Lexington: Univ. of Kentucky Press, 1962), pp. 9-34. *>On regional development theory, see Harvey S. Perloff et al, Regions, Resources, and Economic Growth (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, I960); E. A. J. Johnson, The Organization of Space in Developing Countries (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 1970); and Harry W. Richardson, Regional Growth Theory (New York: Halstead, 1973). An Appalachian application is Mary Jean Bowman and W. Warren Haynes, Resources and People in East Kentucky (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1963). See also H. Dudley Plunkett and Mary Jean Bowman, Elites and Change in the Kentucky Mountains (Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky, 1 973). 7 On the ARC, see Donald Rothblatt, Regional Planning; The Appalachian Experience (Lexington, MA: Heath, 1971); and Monroe Newman, The Political Economy of Appalachia (Lexington, MA: Heath, 1972). Niles M. Hansen's works include Rural Poverty and the Urban Crisis (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1970); Intermediate-Size Cities as Growth Centers (New York: Praeger, 1971); an edited volume, Growth Centers in Regional Economic Development (New York: Free Press, 1972); and Location Preferences, Migration and Regional Growth (New York: Praeger, 1973). idea of "nondecisions" is developed in Peter Bachrach and Morton S. Baratz, Power and Poverty: Theory and Practice (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970), Ch. 3, pp. 39-51. See also Matthew Crenson, The Politics of Air Pollution: A Study of Non-Decisionmaking in the Cities (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1971); and Roger W. Cobb and Charles D. Elder, Participation in American Politics: The Dynamics of Agenda Building (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1972). ^For an example of an alternative approach see John G. Gurley, Capitalist and Maoist Economic Development," in America's Asia: Dissenting Essays on Asian-American Relations (New York: Vintage, 1971), pp. 324-356. Some proposals for a socialist regional development strategy for Appalachia are outlined by Richard Simon and Roger Lesser, "A Working Community Commonwealth," Peoples' Appalachia, 3 (Spring 1973), 9-15. On the community development corporation and its potential for Appalachia, see Brady J. Deaton, "CDCs: A Development Alternative for Rural America," Growth and Change, 6 (January 1975), 31-37. �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 343 l^See the articles in Readings in U.S. Imperialism, ed. K. T. Farm and Donald C. Hodges (Boston.- Porter Sargent, 1971); in Dependence and Under development, ed. James D. Cockcroft, et al. (New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1972); in Structures of Dependency, ed. Frank Bonilla and Robert Girling (Palo Alto: Stanford Univ. Institute for Political Studies, 1973); and in the special issue on dependency theory of Latin American Perspectives, 1 (Spring 1974). A good review essay is the editors' introduction to Latin America: The Struggle with Dependency and Beyond, ed. Ronald H. Chilcote and Joel C. Edelstein (New York: Schenkman, 1974), pp. 1-87. l^Susanne Bodenheimer [Jonas], "Dependency and Imperialism: The Roots of Latin American Underdevelopment," in Readings in U.S. Imperialism, ed. Fann and Hodges, pp. 62-64. -^Thorstein Veblen, Absentee Ownership and Business Enterprise in Recent Times (1923; Boston: Beacon, 1967). *^See, for example, Joe Persky, "The South: A Colony at Home," Southern Exposure, 1 (Summer/Fall 1973), 14-22; Andre Gorz, "Colonialism at Home and Abroad," and Lee Webb, "Colonialism and Underdevelopment in Vermont," both in Liberation, 16 (November 1971), 22-29 and 2933 respectively; Geoffrey Faux, "Colonial New England," The New Republic (28 November 1972), pp. 16-19; Dale L. Johnson, "On Oppressed Classes," in Dependence and Underdevelopment, ed. Cockcroft, et al., p. 277; and Michael Hechter, Internal Colonialism: The Celtic Fringe in British National Development, 1536-1966 (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1975). Gonzalez-Casanova, "Internal Colonialism and National Development," in Studies in Comparative International Development, 1 (1965), 27-37; rpt. in Latin American Radicalism, ed. Irving Louis Horowitz, et al, (New York: Random House, 1969), quote from pp. 130-132. * ^Pierre van den Berghe, "Education, Class and Ethnicity in Southern Peru: Revolutionary Colonialism," in Education and Colonialism-. Comparative Perspectives, ed. Philip G. Altbach and Gail P. Kelly (New York: McKay, forthcoming). Van den Berghe traces the origin of the term internal colonialism to a pamphlet by Leo Marquard, South Africa's Colonial Policy (Johannesburg: Institute of Race Relations, 1957). , for example, three excellent collections of articles in pamphlet form: The West Virginia Miners Union, 1931: As Reported at the Time in "Labor Age"; Harlan and Bell, Kentucky, 1931-2, The National Miners �344 Colonialism in Modern America Union: As Reported at the Time in the "Labor Defender"; and War in the Coal Fields, The Northern Fields, 1931: As Reported at the Time in the "Labor Defender" and "Labor v4^"(Huntington, WV: Appalachian Movement Press, 1972). l, Night Comes to the Cumberlands (Boston: Little, Brown, 1963), p. 325; "Misdeal in Appalachia," The Atlantic Monthly (June 1965), p. 44; see also his "Appalachia: The Dismal Land," Dissent, 14 (NovemberDecember 1967), 718-719. Kenneth R. Bailey, "A Judicious Mixture: Negroes and Immigrants in the West Virginia Mines, 1880-1917," West Virginia History, 34 (January 1973), 141-161; and Paul Nyden, Black Coal Miners in the United States (New York: American Institute for Marxist Studies, 1974). her review of Plunkett and Bowman, Elites and Change, in Social Forces, 53 (September 1974), 139-140. 2^A classic example of such bias is Albert N. Votaw, "The Hillbillies Invade Chicago," Harper's Magazine (February 1958), pp. 64-67. An excellent study of the hillbilly stereotype is Clyde B. McCoy, "Stereotypes of Appalachians in Urban Areas: Myths, Facts, and Questions," a paper presented at the Conference on Appalachians in Urban Areas," sponsored by the Academy for Contemporary Problems, Columbus, Ohio, 28 March 1974. ^Success through migration is class biased, however; see Harry K. Schwarzweller, et al., Mountain Families in Transition (Univ. Park: Pennsylvania Univ. Press, 1971), Chs. 6-9, pp. 121-205. Blauner, Racial Oppression in America (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), p. 67; a revised version of his article "Internal Colonialism and Ghetto Revolt" appears as Ch. 2. For an application of the model to the Chicano population, see Joan Moore, "Colonialism: The Case of the Mexican-American," Social Problems, 17 (Spring 1970), 463-472. Another valuable discussion is Jeffrey Prager, "White Racial Privilege and Social Change: An Examination of Theories of Racism," Berkeley Journal of Sociology, 17 (1972-73), 117-150. For a critical view of the model, see Donald J. Harris, "The Black Ghetto as Colony: A Theoretical Critique and Alternative Formulation," The Review of Black Political Economy, 2 (1972), 3-33. An interesting change of viewpoint is evident in Robert Allen, who in Black Awakening in Capitalist America (New York: Doubleday, 1969) made extensive use of the internal colony model; see his review �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 345 "Racism and the Black Nation Thesis," Socialist Revolution, No. 27 (January-March 1976), pp. 145-150. Another view that emphasizes class over colony is Gilbert G. Gonzalez, "A Critique of the Internal Colony Model," Latin American Perspectives, 1 (Spring 1974), 154-161. Williams, "The Concept of 'Egemonia' in the Thought of Antonio Gramsci: Some Notes on Interpretation," Journal of the History of Ideas, 20 (October-December 1960), 587. For some of Gramsci's writings, see The Modern Prince and Other Writings, trans, and ed. Louis Marks (New York: International Publishers, 1957); or Selections from the Prison Notebooks, ed. and trans. Quinton Hoare and Geoffrey Nowell Smith (New York: International Publishers, 1971). LukacY classic is History and Class Consciousness, trans. Rodney Livingstone (1921; Boston: MIT Press, 1972). On the Frankfurt School, see Martin Jay, The Dialectical Imagination: A History of the Frankfurt School and the Institute of Social Research, 1923-1950 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1973); and his "Some Recent Developments in Critical Theory," Berkeley Journal of Sociology, 18 (197374)? 27-44. 2^On the role of the schools in maintaining capitalist hegemony, see Joel H. Spring, Education and the Rise of the Corporate State (Boston: Beacon, 1972); Martin Carnoy, Education as Cultural Imperialism (New York: McKay, 1974), especially Chs. 5-8, pp. 233-370 on the United States (although I would speak of education as cultural hegemony rather than internal colonialism, as Carnoy does); and Samuel Bowles and Herbert Gintis, Schooling in Capitalist America: Educational Reform and the Contradictions of Economic Life (New York: Basic Books, 1976). On the derogation of working-class culture, see Richard Sennett and Jonathan Cobb, The Hidden Injuries of Class (New York: Random House, 1972). Keith Dix, "The West Virginia Economy: Notes fora Radical Base Study," Peoples' Appalachia, 1 (April-May 1970), 3-7; Emil Malizia, "Economic Imperialism: An Interpretation of Appalachian Underdevelopment," Appalachian Journal, 1 (Spring 1973), 130-137; Richard Simon, "The Development of Underdevelopment in West Virginia," an outline of a dissertation in progress dated 12 April 1973, also distributed as "Land History: Development of Underdevelopment in West Virginia," a Peoples Development Working Paper of the Regional Economic Development Commission of the Council of the Southern Mountains, Summer 1973. 2 %ee particularly his Frankfurt inaugural address of June 1965, published as "Knowledge and Human Interests: A General Perspective," in the appendix to Jurgen Habermas, Knowledge and Human Interests, trans. �346 Colonialism in Modern America Jeremy J. Shapiro (Boston: Beacon Press, 1971), pp. 301-317, quoted phrase from p. 311; and the brief explication of Habermas in the epilogue to Joachim Israel, Alienation: From Marx to Modern Sociology (1968; Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1971), pp. 343-347. See also his essay "Technology and Science as 'Ideology,' " in Toward a Rational Society (Boston: Beacon, 1970), pp. 81-122; and Trent Shroyer, "Toward a Critical Theory for Advanced Industrial Society," in Recent Sociology No. 2: Patterns of Communicative Behavior, ed. Hans Peter Dreitzel (New York: Macmillan, 1970), pp. 210-234. Friedmann, "Poor Regions and Poor Nations: Perspectives on the Problem of Appalachia," Southern Economic Journal, 32 (April 1966), 465-467. "Jaded Old Land of Bright New Promise," in Mountain Life & Work, 46 (March 1970), 5-8, rpt. in Appalachia in the Sixties, ed. David S. Walls and John B. Stephenson (Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky, 1972), pp. 240-246. His genetic and subculture of poverty arguments are apparent in Night Comes to the Cumberlands, pp. 1-31 and 273301, but are strongly emphasized in his latest work, A Darkness at Dawn: Appalachian Kentucky and the Future (Lexington: Univ. Press of Kentucky, 1976). Jack Weller, "Appalachia: America's Mineral Colony," in Vantage Point, No. 2 (1973), a now discontinued tabloid issued by the Commission on Religion in Appalachia in Knoxville. ^"Habermas, Legitimation Crisis, trans, Thomas McCarthy (1973; Boston: Beacon, 1975), pp. 33-41; quote from p. 33. ^Galbraith, Economics and the Public Purpose (1973; New York: Signet, 1975), pp. 42-43; quote from p. 42. O'Connor, The Fiscal Crisis of the State (New York: St. Martin's, 1973), especially Ch. 1, "An Anatomy of American State Capitalism," pp. 13-39; quote from p. 17. Labor Market Segmentation, ed. Richard C. Edwards, et al. (Lexington, MA: Heath, 1975). ^O'Connor, Fiscal Crisis of the State, pp. 6-7, and Chs. 4-6, pp. 97169. Miliband, The State in Capitalist Society; The Analysis of the Western System of Power (London: Quartet, 1973), Ch. 3, "The State �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 347 System and the State Elite," pp. 46-62; quote from p. 61. * *]sjicos Poulantzas, Political Power and Social Classes, trans. Timothy O'Hagan (1968; London: New Left Books, 1973). Poulantzas draws heavily on the neo-orthodox structural Marxism of Louis Althusser. For the dispute between Poulantzas and Miliband, see Miliband, "Poulantzas and the Capitalist State," New Left Review, No. 82 (November-December 1973), pp. 83-92; and Poulantzas, "The Capitalist State: A Reply to Miliband and Laclau," New Left Review, No. 95 (January-February 1976), pp. 63-83. See also Poulantzas, Classes in Contemporary Capitalism (London: New Left Books, 1975). ^Miliband, "Poulantzas and the Capitalist State," p. 85n; the statement by Marx and Engels is from The Manifesto of the Communist Party, Part I. 3^Ian Gough, "State Expenditure in Advanced Capitalism," New Left Review, No. 92 (July-August 1975), pp. 53-92, quotes from pp. 75, 76. ^"Habermas, Legitimation Crisis, pp. 36-37; and his "The Scientization of Politics and Public Opinion," in Toward a Rational Society, pp. 6280. See also Peter Bachrach, The Theory of Democratic Elitism: A Critique (Boston: Little, Brown, 1967). 3 ^Philip Selznick, TV A and the Grass Roots: A Study in the Sociology of Formal Organization (1949; New York: Harper Torch books, 1966). 40 Caudill, "O, Appalachia!" Intellectual Digest (April 1973); rpt. in Voices from the Hills, ed. Robert J. Higgs and Ambrose N. Manning (New York: Ungar, 1975), pp. 524-525. See a similar collapsing of a complex stratification system to a dichotomy in Roman B. Aquizap and Ernest A. Vargas, "Technology, Power, and Socialization in Appalachia," Social Casework, 51 (March 1970), 131-139. 41 See Richard Parker, The Myth of the Middle Class: Notes on Affluence and Equality (1972; New York: Harper Colophon, 1974), for a division into poor, lower middle, upper middle and rich classes; Parker waffles and helps perpetuate the myth he attacks by not terming his "lower middle class" the working class. A more thorough analysis is done by Andrew Levison, The Working Class Majority (1974; New York: Penguin, 1975). A good collection of articles is The Worker in "Post-Industrial" Capitalism: Liberal and Radical Responses, ed. Bertram Silverman and �348 Colonialism in Modern America Murray Yanowitch (New York: Free Press, 1974). For a thoughtful exploration from an orthodox Marxist perspective, see Judah Hill, Class Analysis: United States in the 1970s (Emeryville, CA: privately printed, 1975). An excellent analysis is presented in Erik Olin Wright, "Class Boundaries in Advanced Capitalist Societies," New Left Review, No. 98 (JulyAugust 1976), pp. 3-41; also available as reprint 219 from the Institute for Research on Poverty, University of Wisconsin at Madison. ^"^Immanuel Wallerstein, "Dependence in an Interdependent World: The Limited Possibilities of Transformation within the Capitalist World Economy, "African Studies Review, 17 (April 1974), 1-26. ^Friedmann, "Poor Regions and Poor Nations," pp. 467-470. "For a view of race, ethnicity and other such status-groups as "blurred collective representations of classes" in the world system, see Wallerstein, "Social Conflict in Post-Independence Black Africa: The Concepts of Race and Status-Group Reconsidered," in Racial Tensions and National Identity, ed. Ernest Q. Campbell (Nashville: Vanderbilt Univ. Press, 1972), pp. 207-226; see also his "Class-Formation in the Capitalist World-Economy," Politics and Society, 6 (1975), 367-375; and "The Rise and Future Demise of the World Capitalist System: Concepts for Comparative Analysis," Comparative Studies in Society and History, 16 (September 1974), 387-415. ^Herbert j. Cans, "The Positive Functions of Poverty," The American Journal of Sociology, 78 (September 1972), 275-289. On the Title V Commissions, see Ch. 5 in Martha Derthick, Between State and Nation: Regional Organizations of the United States (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1974), pp. 108-133. first proposal for something resembling a special legislature for the Southern Appalachians is made by George S. Mitchell, "Let's Unite the Pie!" Mountain Life & Work, 27 (Spring 1951), 19-20; he suggests an "annual representative meeting and a permanent staff. . . .Such a representative body ought to be. . .an annual assembly of all the mountain members of the state legislatures. Possibly the Members of Congress from the Mountains might be a sort of Upper House." D wight Macdonald proposes a state of Appalachia in "The Constitution of the United States Needs to be Fixed," Esquire, 70 (October 1968), 246; but it would be formed by lumping together the present states of West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee as part of an overall consolidation of states for the purpose of obtaining larger administrative jurisdictions. The proposal has no relation to a policy �Internal Colony or Internal Periphery? 349 of overcoming the exploitation of the mountain region. Nor does the reorganization scheme of geographer G. Etzel Pearcy, which would form a state of Appalachia more appropriately from sections of southern West Virginia, southwestern Virginia, eastern Kentucky, and southeastern Ohio; see the article by Lee Harris from The Los Angeles Times rpt. as "A Plan to Reshape, Rename and Reduce U.S. States to 38," The Courier-Journal & Times (Louisville), 2 September 1973, p. E5. 47 Gordon K. Ebersole brought the idea of the Public Utility Districts from the Northwest to the Appalachians; see his "Appalachia: Potential. . . With a View," Mountain Life & Work, 42 (Winter 1966), 10-12. Harry Caudill picked up the idea and gave it wide publicity; see his "A New Plan for a Southern Mountain Authority," Appalachian Review, 1 (Summer 1966), 6-11. Ebersole and Caudill were key leaders in the Congress for Appalachian Development. An issue of The Appalachian South, 2 (Spring and Summer 1967) is largely devoted to articles on CAD. On the history of CAD, see David Whisnant, "The Congress for Appalachian Development," Peoples' Appalachia, 3 (Spring 1973), 16-22. �This page intentionally left blank �OF by s. in field A to an of in the the est A of an by In of in" the for its by tell of the to is, c< You tell us to get /or tils at on a the the to on a Such is the local on the a of by the the by the ask it." "NO is on the of the will do �352 Colonialism in Modern America These three examples, all current, can be matched by other vignettes from people all over Appalachia. They are representative of the process of social change that has been in evidence in the mountains since the mass cutting of timber began almost a century ago. They are part of a process which has cost much of the region its ability to provide a decent life for its people and which has been documented by previous selections in this volume. The fact that by 1930 Appalachia had become an area where many people could not lead a life comparable in economic terms with the middle class American norm has resulted in social scientists and others seeking causes and models of causes for the "poverty" of the region. These models have been presented and criticized in the previous article by David Walls. In brief, a "deficiency model" blamed the mountaineers and their allegedly homespun "yesterday's people" culture for the announced "problems" of the region. Repeated incidents like the ones reported above and consequent outrage, together with a genuine love and respect for the people around us, led to the development of the colonial model as a dialectical response to the deficiency model. This model places the blame not on the people but on the external profit seekers who removed the region's vast wealth to Pittsburgh, New York, and Philadelphia, leaving an impoverished region behind them. Walls also mentions the "development model," used especially by government agencies (and attendant state university research centers) who are in the development business and who find the region to be a good target for their efforts. I would extend this model beyond the government to include other groups and people who have an agenda to act out and find the mountains a good arena for the performance. William Goodell Frost, president of Berea College at the turn of the century, found the mountaineers to be underdeveloped in education and thus set out to develop them in this area. His example was followed by the establishment of scores of "settlement schools" throughout the region. Presbyterians, Methodists, and other denominations found the mountaineers suffering from an underdeveloped faith and thus labelled the region fertile ground for their missionary movement.1 Walls points out the strengths and limitations of each model �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy 353 and then combines them into his synthesis, which is a model of the region as an "internal periphery of an advanced capitalist system." The internal periphery model draws on the works of Galbraith, James O'Connor, and Jurgens Habermas to describe the region as essentially a resources preserve, complete with "native" leadership that serves the needs of the advanced industrial, resources, and recreation-hungry society that surrounds it. It is a helpful model in that it accounts for the external manipulations and the steady removal of wealth from the region as well as the internal quiescence and cooperation of a "dependency infrastructure" that facilitates the process. Thus it takes into account a wide range of cultural and socio-political phenomena. Yet, the internal periphery model, as I now understand it, does not do what Walls would like it to do: help us arrive at "the goals and strategy of a movement for social change." I would extend the internal periphery model by emphasizing that it posits, at least implicitly, the existence of two cultures: that of the "exploited" area and that of the "advanced capitalist" system that surrounds it. By culture I mean what Sir Edward Tylor defined as "that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom and other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society," and their world view or Weltanschauung.2 As Walls, Helen Lewis, Roger Lesser, Stephen Fisher, and others have pointed out, there is a great deal of literature on the culture of Appalachia, whether defined as a "culture of poverty" or as the "folk culture" of "Yesterday's People." But what about the culture of the other side: the "advanced capitalist region"? This has not been discussed, quite probably because it is part of what Alfred Schutz calls the "world-taken-forgranted" of the academics—even those outraged by the rape of the Appalachian region. We too have been socialized by the institutions of the advanced capitalist system. We accept the value system of a rationalist, achievement-oriented, "scientific" culture and are well conditioned members of the social system that inflicts so much pain and disorder in both internal and external peripheral regions. Culturally, we turn out to be the very people we've been warning each other about. We have been �3 54 Colonialism in Modern America blind to our own folkways and thus have been unable to define them and assess their impact on social change. Thus, we, and the rest of the world along with us, are inheritors of a change in cultural orientation so well described by Max Weber many years ago that it ought to be quoted at length here: Until about the middle of the past century the life of a putter-out was, at least in many of the branches of the Continental textile industry, what we should to-day consider very comfortable. We may imagine its routing somewhat as follows: The peasants came with their cloth, often (in the case of linen) principally or entirely made from raw material which the peasant himself had produced, to the town in which the putter-out lived, and after a careful, often official appraisal of the quality, received the customary price for it. The putter-out's customers, for markets any appreciable distance away, were middlemen, who also came to him, generally not yet following samples, but seeking traditional qualities, and bought from his warehouse, or, long before delivery, placed orders which were probably in turn passed on to the peasants. Personal canvassing of customers took place, if at all, only at long intervals. Otherwise correspondence sufficed, though the sending of samples slowly gained ground. The number of business hours was very moderate, perhaps five to six a day, sometimes considerably less; in the rush season, where there was one, more. Earnings were moderate; enough to lead a respectable life and in good times to put away a little. On the whole, relations among competitors were relatively good, with a large degree of agreement on the fundamentals of business. A long daily visit to the tavern, with often plenty to drink, and a congenial circle of friends, made life comfortable and leisurely. The form of organization was in every respect capitalistic; the entrepreneur's activity was of a purely business character; the use of capital, turned over in the business, was indispensable; and finally, the objective aspect of the economic process, the book-keeping, was rational. But it was traditionalistic business, if one considers the spirit �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy which animated the entrepreneur: the traditional manner of life, the traditional rate of profit, the traditional amount of work, the traditional manner of regulating the relationships with labour, and the essentially traditional circle of customers and the manner of attracting new ones. All these dominated the conduct of the business, were at the basis, one may say, of the ethos of this group of business men. Now at some time this leisureliness was suddenly destroyed, and often entirely without any essential change in the form of organization, such as the transition to a unified factory, to mechanical weaving, etc. What happened was, on the contrary, often no more than this: some young man from one of the putting-out families went out into the country, carefully chose weavers for his employ, greatly increased the rigour of his supervision of their work, and thus turned them from peasants into labourers. On the other hand, he would begin to change his marketing methods by so far as possible going directly to the final consumer, would take the details into his own hands, would personally solicit customers, visiting them every year, and above all would adapt the quality of the product directly to their needs and wishes. At the same time he began to introduce the principle of low prices and large turnover. There was repeated what everywhere and always is the result of such a process of rationalization: those who would not follow suit had to go out of business. The idyllic state collapsed under the pressure of a bitter competitive struggle, respectable fortunes were made, and not lent out at interest, but always reinvested in the business. The old leisurely and comfortable attitude toward life gave way to a hard frugality in which some participated and came to the top, because they did not wish to consume but to earn, while others who wished to keep on with the old ways were forced to curtail their consumption. And, what is most important in this connection, it was not generally in such cases a stream of new money invested in the industry which brought about this revolution—in several cases known to me the whole revolu- 355 �356 Colonialism in Modern America tionary process was set in motion with a few thousands of capital borrowed from relations—but the new spirit, the spirit of modern capitalism, had set to work.-* Weber elsewhere documented the rise of the "spirit of capitalism" in the rationally oriented bureaucracy in which the human element was bent to the needs of the stated directions and goals of the agency.4 Other social theorists have noted other aspects of this process: Tonnies saw the move from Gemeinschaft to Gesellschaft (from intimate, small community to impersonal, complex society) accompanied by a shift in the ways people viewed and treated each other. The shift is from Wesenwille, which can be described as a spontaneous, emotional and committed base for interpersonal relations in which a humanistic communal will encompasses rational thought, to Kurwille, where rational thought and calculation regulate social dialogue according to the use-value each party perceives in the other.5 Durkheim noted the disintegration of "moral" community and the consequent anomie, social disorder, and increase in suicide rates.^ Mid-century sociology had showed the individual outcome of this trend in Mills' "Cheerful Robots," Reisman's "Other Directed Man" and Marcuse's One Dimensional Man: With the technical progress as its instrument, unfreedom— in the sense of Man's subjection to his productive apparatus—is perpetuated and intensified in the form of many liberties and comforts. The novel feature is the overwhelming rationality in this irrational enterprise, and the depth of the preconditions which shapes the instinctual drives and the aspirations of the individuals and obscures the difference between false and true consciousness. For, in reality, neither the utilization of administrative rather than physical controls (hunger, personal dependence, force), nor the change in the character of heavy work . . .compensate for the fact that the decisions over life and death, over personal and national security at places over which individuals have no control. The slaves of industrial civilization are sublimated slaves, but they are slaves, for slavery is determined by. . .the pure form of servitude: to exist as an instrument, as a thing. ^ The reality of the historical rationalist trend in what is now �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy 3 57 the culture of advanced capitalism is attested to by the rampant efforts to escape it or to discover human essence within it through movements such as youth culture, TM, EST, the Moonies, and Eslin. Fritz Pappenheim and Philip Slater join Mills, Marcuse, Fromm, and Reisman in the assertion that in the advanced capitalist system, human beings are held captive as employees of large impersonal bureaucratic organizations that thunder about the countryside in pursuit of what Karl Mannheim has termed their own "functionally rational" goals:8 The U.S. Forest Service exists to enlarge and maintain a complex forest system. The U.S. Park Service exists to create and maintain recreation facilities. AMAX exists to extract coal in what its executives feel is the most efficient manner possible with existing technology. What could be more "American" or more in line with a technology-intoxicated Protestant Ethic? What could be more devastating to the Appalachian Region? But it is also devastating the managerial technocrats in charge of the devastation, who define themselves in terms of their bureaucratic place and assigned position and mission within a bureaucratic hierarchy. Douglas Heath's longitudinal studies of "highly successful" American males indicate an inverse relationship between high intelligence scores (on the culture-bound tests of the rationalist, advanced capitalist culture), and the ability to be outgoing, supportive, and "mature" in personal interactions. Wives of some of these men called them "robots." One interviewee said "I've been married to him ten years now and still don't know what he really feels."9 One of the products of Western industrial culture has been the complex organization which in turn creates its own values, quasi-community, and its own kind of man. Recent essays by Richard Couto, John Gaventa, and Stephen Fisher, et a/.,10 draw upon the work of Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann to suggest that the inability of Appalachians to make their interests and �358 Colonialism in Modern America needs known in the larger policy arena is in some measure due to the fact that their social reality is determined by the defining institutions and mechanisms of the larger, dominating, advanced capitalist society.11 According to this argument, the media, educational systems, and government agencies define the Appalachians to themselves and to others as LiP Abners and Snuffy Smiths—people incapable of responding to the complex issues of the "modern" world. In being socialized to accept this definition of reality, Appalachians' ability to respond to issues and struggle for their interests is limited; they become quiescent even when they "seemingly have every reason to rebel."12 But Appalachian history is full of rebellions and rebels: of men and women who demand, in Camus' terms, that their existence be recognized. From mine wars to roving pickets, Mother Jones to Widow Combs, Black Lung and Brown Lung movements, Appalachians have fought domination to a degree which has required the dominating culture to foster the sort of violent stereotype of the mountaineer depicted in the film Deliverance. So the people whose reality is defined by the mechanisms of the dominant culture may well not be the residents of the "internal periphery" but of the dominant culture itself—people who, rather than defining and experiencing themselves as people, see and struggle to be "planners," "sound businessmen," "GS13s" or other reifications of human endeavor which abnegate a sense of common humanity. This is the process that creates monsters. Adolph Eichmann was an expert only in rail transport and Robert McNamara was a systems specialist. They were both organization men and good examples of Modern Man in the twentieth century: They killed people with tact, efficiency, and, most astoundingly, with some measure of well meaning. Part of the problem Appalachia faces then lies not in its own culture but in the Weltanschauung that accompanies the advanced industrial social system of large complex organizations in both the public and private spheres. As perhaps is true of the everyday view of the world in most predominantly rural parts of the world, the way Appalachians construct and live in the world around them makes them vulnerable to the outside predator. My own field observation in a coal �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy 3 59 fringe area in West Virginia and an agricultural area in Western North Carolina has found people busy and relatively content in lifestyles they find to be meaningful. The focus of their everyday life rests upon a network of people and problems physically and socially close to them. Lengthy daily discussions with one farmer in Madison County, North Carolina, over a period of five weeks revealed continual concern with family matters and his tobacco crop. He knew that a neighboring farm had been sold to Florida real estate speculators and subdivided and already sold to people mostly from New Jersey. He was not aware that in the past ten years 25 percent of the land in the county had been purchased by out-of-state people for second homes and that the Federal government held another 23 percent. He knew "land has gone high as a cat's back" but did not give any indication that he saw the implications of this increase on the future of farming or out-migration patterns in the area. This man's world view and orientation (whether it be a function of class or regional location or a combination of these variables) made him as insensitive to the implications of real estate speculation as VISTA volunteers were to the social structure and strengths of the communities they came to "help." Supporters of the colonial model have tended to shy away from discussion of any possible limitations of mountain culture because advocates of the deficiency approach have made such devastating use of "culture of poverty" models in their efforts to "blame the victim."13 But it is fair to say, I think, that although the ways of life in rural Appalachia are rich and meaningful, they have been no match for the rationalist's, efficiencyoriented culture of advanced capitalism that has come into their territory. This sort of cross-cultural clash has not been limited to Appalachia; it has been a global phenomena recorded in the ruins of Mayan libraries and observatories, the beylik lands of Algeria, and the temples of Indo-China. Rationalism with its attendant social structure has levelled, bleached, and bled out a rich variety of human ways of being that have stood in its path. Mike Clark, in trying to explain this phenomenon to students in Ohio last summer, turned to a speech by Chief Seattle, a leader of the Sequamish Indians, given in 1954 to mark the transfer of ancestral lands to the Federal government: �360 Colonialism in Modern America "How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. . . We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of the land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it he moves on. He leaves his father's graves behind; he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to he bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. [Emphasis mine.] He will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert. I do not know. Our ways are different from your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand. . . ."^ "Some savage/' commented Clark. But if Chief Seattle could have compared notes with Marcuse, he might have better understood that when social institutions reduce men to commodities, men live only in the world of commodities—of things to be bought, sold, and used like sheep or beads or farmland. They have been deprived of the very qualities which would have enabled them to hear and understand the chief's concerns and world. In summary, the internal periphery synthesis can be extended to incorporate the concept of two cultural traditions in conflict, with the historical record indicating that the social systems of complex organizations and attendant Weltanschauung ultimately prevail It is our profound wish that it will not continue to do so, that some sense of humanistic balance and purpose can be introduced into the process of social change that inundates us. Walls concludes his paper with the assertion that the internal periphery of advanced capitalism model leads us to "socialist goals and strategies" for a presumably humanistic "movement for social change." But in adding the dimension of cultural orientation to his model, the posited struggle appears not to be �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy 361 between the "isms" as much as between community and increasingly centralizing, mass bureaucratic definitions of reality, control of life, and planning. The wide range of application of socialist concepts—from Sweden to Stalin, China, Cuba, Algeria, and Tanzania to Cambodia—indicate that socialism can come down on either side of this dichotomy. Of course with capitalism there is no question; centralization historically has proved to be one of its major dynamics. But the history of socialism requires us to be more specific; the diversity of its historical record indicates we cannot accept it on the basis of its stated humanist objectives alone. The addition of the cultural orientation perspective to the internal periphery model requires us to begin to articulate some goals in terms of quality of life and the strategies for achieving those goals. At the same time, we can attempt to block or substantially modify proposals for the development authored by the impersonal bureaucratic structures of the advanced capitalist system that would continue the process of degradation and disintegration of Appalachian life and culture, the process that reifies human beings and human relations into things or commodities. There is a growing history of successful opposition to development schemes of both public and private agencies. In the late sixties, for example, the Upper French Broad Defense Association rallied the citizens of Western North Carolina to block a TVA project which would have flooded 11,225 acres and dislocated 600 families. In another case, articulate opposition in public hearings in Tennessee resulted in the blockage of an AMAX Coal Company plan to strip mine 10,000 acres on the Cumberland Plateau.15 These victories were won by people who changed formerly legitimizing "public hearing" rituals into real forums where some collective evaluation of proposed projects and their social costs and benefits could take place. (There have also been defeats. I am reminded of a young surveyor who literally was run out of Randolph County, West Virginia, for speaking out in a public hearing in opposition to the construction of a coal washing facility on the Cheat River.) But the point is that we have the basis of a strategy here—to force participation in policy making �362 Colonialism in Modern America into what previously have been legitimizing rituals or democratic pretense for private, elitist, and closed planning systems. Secondly, we have to see "officialdom" as people who are judged and judge themselves in terms of the functional goals of the bureaucratic structures for which they work. Their sense of self worth, their income levels, status and life chances are in good measure tied to whether their agencies get that land, build that dam, or strip that coal. We thus cannot appeal to their "better natures," because to do so implies that they commit a sort of sociological suicide and resign from their perceived organizational communities. They are in good measure beyond reach; they are Heath's robots in action. At best we can try to redefine their interests for them; more likely we will have to oppose them. Third, we should get on with the difficult process of defining the kind of life that is meaningful in the most profound sense of the term. (There is enough of the anthropologist in me to feel that we're dabbling here in a matter that extends well beyond our mental capabilities. Men like Levi-Strauss, Paul Radin and Stanley Diamond who delve into such things begin to sound like "primitive" shamans after a while—somewhat akin to Chief Seattle). But minimally and from a frankly humanistic and decentralist perspective, we can say that people should have a right to create and see the products of their creation, that they should not be separated from one another by overspecialization of task or great differentiation in wealth or status and that they should have community, a place of belonging and membership, where in collective association they can determine their future. Elements for such a Utopian vision can be found still in some "traditional" rural mountain communities, as George Hicks discovered in his study of Celo, N.C.16 Celo stands almost at the foot of Mt. Mitchell where today one finds NO PARK PLEASE bumper stickers thick as galax. �Extending the Internal Periphery Model: The Impact of Culture and Consequent Strategy 363 NOTES ^David Walls, "On the Naming of Appalachia," a paper submitted to the Appalachian Symposium honoring Gratis D. Williams, April, 1976. ^Edward Tylor, Primitive Culture (New York: 1958), I, 1. Harper and Row, ^Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1958), pp. 66-68. 4 H. H. Gerth and C. W. Mills, From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1946), pp. 196-240. ^Ferdinand Tonnies, Fundamental Concepts of Sociology (Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft), trans. Charles P. Loomis, American Sociology Series, Kimball Young, ed. (New York: American Book Company, 1940), pp. 194-195. An excellent discussion of these concepts can be found in Fritz Pappenheim, The Alienation of Modern Man (New York: Modern Reader Paperbacks, 1959), pp. 69-77. ^Emile Durkheim, Suicide (New York: The Free Press, 1951), note especially pp. 256-259. ^C. W. Mills, The Sociological Imagination (New York, Oxford University Press, 1959), p. 171. David Reisman, Nathan Glazer, and Reuel Denny, The Lonely Crowd (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950). Herbert Marcuse, One Dimensional Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1968), pp. 32-33. "Karl Mannheim, Man and Society in an Age of Reconstruction (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1948). "From correspondence and conversations with Douglas Heath. His findings have recently been published in D. H. Heath, Maturity and Competence: A Transcultural View (New York: Gardner Press, 1977), pp. 177- �364 Colonialism in Modern America 178. Gaventa and Richard Couto, "Appalachia and the Third Face of Power," a paper presented at the 1976 annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Chicago, Illinois, September, 1976. Jim Foster and Steve Robinson and Steve Fisher, "Class Consciousness and Destructive Power: A Strategy for Change in Appalachia," a paper presented at the 1977 annual meeting of the APSA, Washington, D.C., September, 1977. L. Berger and Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality (New York: Anchor Books, 1967). * ^Robinson, Foster and Fisher, p. 1. *^See William Ryan, Blaming the Victim (New York: Vintage Books, 1972). 14 "Mike Clark, "How Can You Buy or Sell The Sky," as reprinted in The Mountain Eagle, Whitesburg, Kentucky, June 23, 1977. 15 Dave Whisnant, "The TVA Story: How Green is Your Valley." Elements. Also, see "Fact Sheet: AMAX in Tennessee, 1976," a mimeographed pamphlet jointly produced by Save Our Cumberland Mountains (SOCM) and Concerned Citizens of Piney, Spencer, Tennessee. ^George L. Hicks, Appalachian Valley (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1976). ���in of the for and to to by the of of for Is a the are to of the In to the of ed., I. 1970. for on as et al., D. K. T. and C. a as a on 1972. iw 17. 5. 1971. for I, 0/ De™ 1974, A on C. 77:? e York, �366 Colonialism in Modern America Some of the classic works on neo-colonialism which remain important statements on the nature of colonialism and its effects on those who are colonized are suggested below. These have been very influential in the development of the research included in this reader. Frantz Fanon, Dying Colonialism, New York, Grove Press, 1967. Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, New York, Monthly Review Press, 1967. Harry Magdoff, The Age of Imperialism, New York, Monthly Review Press, 1969. Dominique O. Mannoni, Prospero and Calabani, The Psychology of Colonization, New York, Praeger, 1956. Albert Memmi, Colonizer and the Colonized, Grossman, 1965. Kwame Nkrumah, Neo-Colonialism: Imperialism, London: Nelson, 1965. The Last Stages of Pierre Jalee, The Pillage of the Third World, New York, Monthly Review Press, 1968. Vladimir Lenin L, Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism, International Publishing Company, 1965. Those interested in more reading on the Appalachian case are referred to the notes and bibliographies included with each of the articles in the reader. In addition to the application to Appalachia, the colonialism model has been applied to other regions on sub-groups in the United States. Some of these are: Joe Persky, "The South: A Colony at Home," Southern Exposure, I, Summer/Fall, 1973, 14-22. Andre Gorz, "Colonialism at Home and Abroad/1 and Lee Webb, "Colonialism and Underdevelopment in Vermont," �Suggestions for Further Reading and Research 367 both in Liberation, 16, November, 1971, 22-29 and 29-33 respectively. Geoffrey Faux, "Colonial New England," The New Republic, 28, November, 1972, 16-19. Robert Blauner, * "Internal Colonialism and Ghetto Revolt/' Social Problems, 16, Spring, 1969. A similar application to a sub-region of Great Britain is Michael Hechter, Internal Colonialism: The Celtic Fringe in British National Development, 1936-1966, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1975. More recent analyses and reinterpretations of historical materials have relied heavily on the neo-colonial perspective. Important examples of these are: Eugene D. Genovese, Roll Jordan Roll: Slaves Made, New York, Pantheon, 1974. The World the Edwards Galeano, Open Veins of Latin America, Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent, Monthly Review Press, 1973. Basil Davidson, Africa in History, Macmillan, 1974. William Appleman Williams, The Roots of the Modern American Empire, Random House, 1969. Further research and continued rethinking of the model are important to provide tools for analysis of the process which affects and changes our lives. Without a clear analysis of the dynamics of the social changes which are reshaping and, in many cases, destroying peoples and cultures throughout the world, we are helpless to direct or actually participate in these changes. ��369 O th e r B o o k s Pit hed a n r D is t nh u te d b y ". . a? right good people^" by by David Artisans/Appalachia/US A y Arts and Crafts of the Cherokee, by L. Leftwich B b y C h a rl o t te T. hy of So u th ern A la ch ia, Speech, by M. Dougherty, by ttducator, J. by Down to Earth—People of Murray /• /f i71 ;;g Virgin ia s Mi Fo rc'sf s, b y K a r i n W u e r t z -S c h ae f e r s /Mo M w to i«, b y H ck Laurel Leaves, an of the by by Am berg o/ fl?e Ground, (LP by the by of the Great Smokies by Carolina Club Carolina Club 'Round the Mountains, by Sy mp o si M m o n Tro n f f to I? it a t R rcb a nd Ma me n t Pro �in Ta II Ta le s fro m Tea ch ing M S m o k y, by C. I -1 o ta in C h Ma n: To wa rds a Po u H da of Un de rs ta n by N. "That D-—d Brownlow/' a Saucy Malicious Description of William Brownlow, Knoxville Editor Stalwart Unionist, Wb o R o se fr o m a Co rife de m t e Ja il t o B e co me O n e o f t h e A1 o sf Pa m o M s Pe rs o n in t h e Na t io n, De n o u n c e i f I) y h is I: ie s a s Vic to us Harsh, Praised by his Friends as Compassionate Gentle, Revived by Steve Humphrey, a 20tb Century NewspaperFormer Associate f: if it or of the K no x mile journal, Deof the Whig. of Forestry in America, by Carl Alvvin Schcnck The by The Good Life Almanac, The Smokies Guide, by Th e S o u th ern A la c h ia n lie The in Fact Fiction, by Gratis D. by Dr. J. The To wa rd 1984: Th e Fu tu re of A Conference Proceedings Trains, Trestles & Tunnels: the la c h ia, Southern Railroads of the Southern Appalachians, by by Vo ices fro m the / , by R o J, Its a. n d Am b Its N. M to 1380, by Blackmun the Civil War, by Drs. Ina W. and John J, Noppen CATALOG ��ABOUT THE AUTHORS Often referred to as the leader of inspiration in Appalachian studies, HELEN MATTHEWS LEWIS linked scholarship with activism and encouraged deeper analysis of the region. Lewis shaped the field of Appalachian studies by emphasizing community participation and challenging traditional perceptions of the region and its people. She has served as the director of the Berea College Appalachian Center, Appalshop's Appalachian History Film Project; and the Highlander Research and Education Center. She is co-author of Mountain Sisters: From Convent to Community in Appalachia. She has retired to Abingdon, Virginia. DONALD ASKINS, an Alabama native, taught at Clinch Valley College in Wise, Virginia, before becoming the first Executive Director for the Appalachian Coalition, whose main focus was the elimination of strip mining. He is responsible for taking the aerial photographs of the mining operations in this collection in 1977 through 1979 as documentation of the effects of strip mining. Later, he pursued a criminal law and was elected Commonwealth attorney in 1991 until 2000. He retired to Clintwood, Virginia in 2000. He passed away at his home in Clintwood on March 30, 2015. LINDA JOHNSON was the co-coordinator of the Grace House Learning/ Training Center in St. Paul, Virginia. She passed away in 2002. �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Colonialism in Modern America: The Appalachian Case Description An account of the resource <em>Colonialism in Modern America</em><span>&nbsp;is a series of essays exploring the economic and social problems of the region within the context of colonialism. It is a relatively simple task to document the social ills and the environmental ravage that beset the people and land of Appalachia. However, it is far more difficult and problematic to uncover the causes of these tragic conditions.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1CYRVyt8r0G3pKKBsO57lff_fyaCHuviq" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469642048/colonialism-in-modern-america" target="_blank" rel="noopener">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Subject The topic of the resource Appalachian Region--Economic conditions Appalachian Region--Social conditions Colonies--Case studies Social systems Abstract A summary of the resource. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Lewis, Helen Johnson, Linda Askins, Donald Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1978 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Essays E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank" rel="noopener">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. https://www.geonames.org/12212302/appalachia.html Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1970s Appalachia colonialism economic economics history social Social Systems https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/cbf64b1b0701e8a76cd095191d356cf2.pdf b551d71953989ccb5bea1c0ce1d08618 PDF Text Text �We Plow God's Fields The Life of James G. K. McClure by John Curtis Ager �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2004^ its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program^ Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license^ visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1991 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper):978-i-4696-4i98-o ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4200-0 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM PRESS Boone, North Carolina The Appalachian Consortium is a non-profit educational organization comprised of institutions and agencies located in the Southern Highlands. Our members are volunteers who plan and execute projects which serve 156 mountain counties in seven states. Among our goals are: Preserving the cultural heritage of Southern Appalachia Protecting the mountain environment Publishing manuscripts about the region Improving educational opportunities for area students and teachers Conducting scientific, social, and economic research Promoting a positive image of Appalachia Encouraging regional cooperation The member institutions of the Appalachian Consortium are: Appalachian State University Blue Ridge Parkway East Tennessee State University Gardner-Webb College Great Smoky Mountains Natural History Association John C. Campbell Folk School Lees-McRae College Mars Hill College Mayland Community College N.C. Division of Archives and History Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy Southern Highlands Handicraft Guild U.S. Forest Service Warren Wilson College Western Carolina University Western North Carolina Historical Association �We Plow God's Fields is dedicated to my wife Annie McClure Clarke Ager her mother, Elspeth McClure Clarke and to the Forgotten Pioneers of Western North Carolina. �Contents Prologue 1. The McClure Family v 1 2. Lake Forest 19 3. Texas 38 4. Yale 47 5. Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 69 6. Unsystematic Theology 86 7. Affliction 101 8. Iron River 124 9. Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 137 10. Marriage 165 11. Hickory Nut Gap 183 12. Farmer Jim 199 13. Farming in Western North Carolina 230 14. Farmers Federation 247 15. Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 277 16. Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 312 17. Farmers Federation in the Depression 346 18. Picnics 376 19. War Years 399 20. Last Years 435 Epilogue 464 �Acknowledgments Researching and writing a book is on the whole a solitary and lonely pursuit. And yet, you are dependent on a whole range of people for help. I have needed a large contingent of people to urge me on, to encourage the work. My mother, Mary Lucille Ager, my wife, Annie, my sons, Eric, Kevin, Jamie and Douglas, and my mother-in-law, Elspeth Clarke, have all been my primary encouragement team, and I am indebted to them beyond words. Debbie Aly, secretary to the McClure Fund, labored over her typewriter long and tedious hours for the benefit of this project. Buffy White agreed to subject herself to editing the manuscript, masterfully providing order in the midst of a whirlwind. The Trustees of the James O.K. McClure Educational and Development Fund, including James McClure Clarke, Reuben A. Holden, Dr. Harold Bacon, Mrs. Burnham Colburn, Martha Guy, Julian Woodcock, and Richard Jennings, patiently provided the funds and the time to complete this biography. Tom Eller of Warren Wilson College guided me through his word processing maze. John Murphy, Donna Kilpatrick, Doug Clarke, Franklin Sides, Donna Price, Susan and Chris Crosson and the Brown family (Ralph, Shirley, Clifford, Ben and Charlie) all kept the cows milked and the apples picked at Hickory Nut Gap Farm while I stole away to write this book. Finally, I am grateful to all my editors at the Appalachian Consortium, and to those who typeset and printed this book. In the end, it has been a community project, and how fitting that it should be. �Prologue And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth. (John 17:19, a favorite sermon text for Jim McClure) Describe Jim? That's difficult. He's tall & very well set up. About 5 feet 11 in his stockings & weighs about 170 pounds. He looks more like an Englishman or a Scotchman than an American & he wears his clothes the way they do—Tweeds and such likes. He has a very refined rather small head with dark hair & dark eyes that are very brilliant at times & with humorous lines about them. He has the most charming smile I've ever seen on any human being, and that's not merely the opinion of his prejudiced wife! He has regular features & a certain youthful almost childlike look to his face combined with an expression of immense strength & a curious concentrated vitality. He has a warm brown coloring that suggests an Italian . . . He has an extraordinary mind & a very real gift of expression, a singular intellectual quickness and a german thoroughness of investigation. He is one of the most original thinkers I have ever known & is wholly untrammelled by tradition. Added to that he has a humor & wit that is the joy of all who know him. This is written as much as possible with the eye of a cold outsider! (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, July 7, 1916) This biography is a story of the life of one man, James Gore King McClure, Jr., and his vision for a better life in the mountains of North Carolina. At his prompting, and under his leadership, the Farmers Federation was founded in Fairview, North Carolina (near Asheville) in 1920. Out of his own determination and his superb organizing skills, he created a cooperative agricultural movement that began to shift the economy of Western North Carolina from one hopelessly beset with inertia to one that gave the farmers of the area new hope. The Federation organized markets, provided test trials for farm products, and upgraded breeding stock. For the first time in many years, farmers had money in their pockets and a legitimate pride in their production. A name like James Gore King McClure seems made to be announced in a resounding bass voice, after which all mumbling and chit-chat would quickly subside into attentive silence. But though honor, respect and even power would eventually come to this man, they were won more with a smile and a cheerful remark than with an authoritarian presence. He was brought up, a minister's son, in the posh Chicago suburb of Lake Forest, Illinois, but was able to break through the narrow circle of this society to move easily among different levels �vi We Plow God's Fields and conditions of humanity. He inherited a powerful Presbyterian vision as the descendant of staunch Scottish Covenanters, and was trained in theology and the rhythms of Protestant church work. He could challenge the complacency of a prominent New York City church with his message of the Social Gospel; and two weeks later, in shirt sleeves, challenge the mountaineers of the Bearwallow Baptist Church in Gerton, North Carolina, to take hold of their own lives, to consecrate themselves for the sake of their neighbors and their children. Jim McClure always felt a thrill when he gathered together the varieties of people in his life. He possessed the gifts of charm and humor, and the ability to create an ambience of good feelings and warmth that brought individuals with little common ground in touch with one another. The man drew a kind of power out of a crowd, a spiritual power he returned in kind. Whether it was playing Santa Claus for the mountain children at his home, Hickory Nut Gap Farm, or raffling off a rooster to a wealthy dowager at the Waldorf Astoria in New York, he had a knack for understanding what it was in a situation that gave people a sense of ease, satisfaction and excitement. He knew when to be serious, and when a tense moment needed relief. His skills were human ones; and they brought into his life most of all many, many friends. This is also the story of his wife, Elizabeth Cramer McClure, an extraordinarily sensitive woman who saw the rich colors of life with a painter's eyes, and who taught Jim to balance Calvin with Monet. Without her sense of proportion and beauty, Jim's work for the Farmers Federation would certainly have failed. She made a home for him, remodeling an old neglected inn and surrounding it with flower and vegetable gardens. There were the two children, Elspeth and Jamie, with their friends and cousins romping about the mountainside. It was the kind of place Jim McClure could both entertain his guests and really relax, and where he could find support and comfort in his spiritual struggles. Elizabeth's portrait of Jim continues to greet his descendants and old friends in the dining room of Hickory Nut Gap Farm. One mountain woman who had grown up on the farm said every time she passed by it she just thought he was going to jump out and start talking to her. Elizabeth, an exquisite portrait painter, captured his gifts on canvas. It was with his famous eyes that she told with her brush of his "immense strength & a curious concentrated vitality." The eyes are determined and full of the adventure of a great vision of life. And his mouth, with a little smile, balances the Presbyterian hardness to portray the "humor & wit that is the joy of all who know him." Elizabeth showed how the mouth and the eyes complemented each other, in the portrait as well as in her marriage to him. This man chose and articulated the highest ideals, and then doggedly pursued them. He had to struggle not only with the ingrown fatalism of the mountaineer, but with himself and the limitations his own culture imposed on him. Both he and his wife worked to enjoy and appreciate the incongruities of their lives. Their grace and good humor, though, did not leave them casual wayfarers. They were hard-working participants with and movers of the people around �Prologue vii them, always ready to take a stand for progress and then to battle hard for its fulfillment. It would be easy to say that these two people lived in an era when faith in progress supported them. It is true they had the backing of a dynamic American society that was making such economic strides that no problems appeared insurmountable, and yet was still old-fashioned enough to believe in an American destiny. But Jim and Elizabeth McClure faced the cynicism and hypocrisy that are always prevalent in human societies. The story of Jim's life is ftill of human hope and courage. He wanted his life to stand for spiritual excellence, not as a contemplative monk but as a man who was unafraid to dream that the Kingdom of God could be established on this earth and was willing to dirty himself trying to build it. His struggle was imperfect; not all of his projects were successful. The Farmers Federation itself died a suffering death. His life, like most, was filled with tragic elements that would haunt and discourage him. And yet he kept battling and fighting right up to the very end. Read this book to discover a great human spirit, the man baptized James Gore King McClure, Jr. �This page intentionally left blank �Chapter 1 The McClure Family Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of sons is their fathers. Proverbs 17:6 The memory of my Father is a constant inspiration to me—in every high and holy line. (James Gore King McClure, Sr., to James Gore King McClure, Jr., October 6, 1928) The oldest room at Hickory Nut Gap Farm, the original log cabin in fact, was made over by Jim and Elizabeth McClure to be their study. The bookshelves were filled with his theological and historical works, with several shelves reserved for her art books, and volumes on landscaping, interior design and horticulture that were used for the transformation of the old inn. When there was a need for serious talk, the McClures retired to this study, closing the door behind them. Of all the rooms in the house, it was the one reserved almost exclusively for business matters and intellectual stimulation. It is no accident that Jim and Elizabeth hung above the old fireplace in that room an engraving commemorating a decisive development in Scottish history. Although these events occurred nearly 300 years earlier, they had such a profound effect and so powerful an influence on Jim McClure's ancestors that they were in large part responsible both for his desire to enter the ministry and his very presence in the United States. The engraving is peopled with figures going about a most serious and, for some, painful ordeal. On the right, men of the nobility arrive on horseback amid aristocrats still wearing their swords and uniforms of command. No one smiles. On the left, a confident and stern-faced minister of the gospel shoves into the scene a small book, perhaps the hated Anglican Book of Common Prayer. The light, the outstretched arms and the faces all focus onto the center of the picture, where a simple country woman sits with an open Bible on her lap. Her face looks off into the distance with an expression of unnamed terror, because she understands better than all of the others that the consequence of this gathering will be war. And war, to the peasant mother, threatens her family most of all, because it brings along not only death, but hunger and disease as well. The year is 1638, and the Scottish Presbyterians are rising to oppose the ill-fated King Charles I and his Archbishop, William Laud. The specific issue is a decree that the Scottish church must use the Anglican prayer book. But the real issue is: who rules Scotland, the English crown or the Scottish Presbyterians? To under1 �We Plow God's Fields "The Covenanters," an engraving hanging over the fireplace of the study at Hickory Nut Gap, Fairview, N.C. Engraved from a painting "By His Most Obedient Servant George Harvey." stand Jim McClure, it is important to know what his ancestors were doing and thinking at this time of crisis. The Scots never developed an institution comparable to the English Parliament. But in order to root out the Roman Catholic Church, John Knox (15051572), leader of the Scottish reformation, had organized his Presbyterians into a powerful political force, one that was astonishingly representative of the different classes of its day. By the time Charles I assumed the throne, he was faced with a church body that wanted to rule Scotland, and he had to find a means to thwart it. The battle over the English prayer book was the loose thread that started to unravel Charles's rule, ending finally with his execution. The picture in the McClure study commemorates the renewal of the Scottish Covenant with God, and it bound each signatory to resist the authority of the Church of England and its royal promoters. English historian G. M. Trevelyan wrote: "The Covenant with God . . . embraced all ranks from the highest to the lowest. In every parish men signed it, weeping and lifting their right hands to heaven. When the Scots display emotion, something real is astir within them."1 The Scottish resistance forced Charles I to call for the election of a Parliament to provide money for an army, setting in motion the famous struggle for power between that body and the English monarchy. When the dust had cleared, neither Oliver Cromwell nor the restored Charles II could abide a Scotland ruled by radical Presbyterians. Life was made increasingly uncomfortable for the �Family Covenanters. Some years earlier King James I, father of the ill-fated Charles, had created a plantation of Scottish settlers in Ulster, Ireland, sowing the dragon's teeth of sectarian hatred amongst the Catholic Irish. Some members of the McClure family left Scotland at this early opportunity, and were well established in Northern Ireland when the screws began to tighten on their Scottish brethren later in the century. A family letter describes the situation: It ^as towards the latter part of the seventeenth century that the Sloans with the McClures and Craigmiles were forced to take refuge in Ireland. As covenanting Presbyterians they were subject to severe persecution, and with their brethren in the faith they sought peace and safety in a land where they could worship God after the dictates of their hearts. Passing over from Craig in Scotland they found a resting place in the province of Ulster where the Presbyterians so largely predominated, settling in the County of Armagh; they there remained surrounded by sympathizing Mends, enjoying the quiet they sought.2 One family story tells of a mother and daughter hiding in a load of hay being shipped across to Ireland. English soldiers sank their bayonets into the hay, but miraculously neither mother nor daughter was discovered, and they arrived safely. Through the fires of such adversity, a strong Presbyterian identity was firmly stamped on the McClure family. At this point in the family history, individual McClure ancestors emerge. Archibald, Jim's great-grandfather, married Elizabeth Craigmiles. Her father, if family traditions are accurate, felt that this McClure boy was too lowly to marry the daughter of a famous military man. James Craigmiles, born Craig, was a member of the family that had emigrated from Scotland with the McClures during the seventeenth century. He had made a name for himself, in the literal sense. At the age of eighteen he enlisted in the British Army, and in 1759 found himself in the New World as a part of the siege of Quebec. In one of the most celebrated military paintings of the period James Craig holds in his arms the brilliant young General Wolfe as death overcomes him on the Plains of Abraham. Wolfe's watch and papers were delivered personally by Craig to the general's family, and for his heroism he was granted property and the suffix "miles" (Latin for soldier) was added to his name.3 With the passing of time, Ireland ceased to be a haven from persecution. It was also a poor land where an ambitious person had little hope of satisfactory fulfillment. Religious questions and questions of national identity were hopelessly tangled, as they are today, and the London government felt forced to limit the rights of citizenship to those people loyal to the Church of England. By law, both Covenanters and Catholics . . . could hold no public office, nor be married by their own ministers, nor bury their dead by their own simple rites, nor build churches, nor buy land, nor employ teachers except those of the Established Faith. Thus deprived by oppressive laws of every position of trust or honor, denied the liberty of �We Plow God's Fields speech, the free exercise of conscience, together with the burdensome restraints of commerce and extortionate rents from their landlords, they began to look toward America as another and a better home.4 The new American republic was attracting settlers who hoped to leave behind both the politics of the Reformation and the poverty of Ireland. In 1801 the McClure family made the decisive break, and Jim McClure's great-grandfather, Archibald McClure, sailed for New York. James Craigmiles and his wife joined their daughter and son-in-law and their children for the voyage to America. Another young couple went with them, for Archibald's brother John had married another of James Craigmiles's daughters, doubly diluting his fine new name with McClure blood. Mary McClure, sister to Archibald and John, was on board as well. She was the crucial link in her two brothers' future, for she had married and moved to America in 1794 and had returned to Ireland to see her family and accompany them across the Atlantic. The whole McClure clan was presided over for the trip by Mr. and Mrs. McClure, Sr., Jim's great-greatgrandparents. They all settled in the primitive manufacturing town of Hamilton Factory near Albany, New York, where Mary's family lived.5 Sailing the Atlantic in 1801 was very risky, especially for the older members of a family group. The boats were cramped and the crossing took many weeks. Tragedy struck the McClure voyage as yellow fever broke out on board, and when they arrived in New York the port authorities refused to allow the passengers to disembark until the disease had run its course. It must have been a dreary wait on the edge of the New World. The older passengers suffered terribly, and when the time came to set foot on American soil, only the old warrior James Craigmiles was alive among the collective parents of Archibald and Elizabeth. But despite the sorrows of death, these two entered the New World that much less encumbered with the ties and responsibilities of their former lives.6 But the doughty old James Craigmiles was apparently enough to deal with, remaining with his two daughters and making a terrible nuisance of himself. The habit of command rarely dies out in an army man, and how tempting it is for the most forbearing of fathers (which the senior Craigmiles was not) to give advice to his own children and sons-in-law. The tensions at home were perhaps exacerbated by the treatment he received out in the streets of the town. A spirit of Jeffersonian egalitariamsm was sweeping the nation in 1801, and the common folk failed regularly to tip their hats to him in passing. Elizabeth and Archibald McClure must have been quite relieved when he decided to sail back to Ireland, complaining all the way of the insolent Americans. By 1808, Elizabeth and Archibald had five children. In 1810, Archibald McClure died of a fever that had swept through the village. At his death, Archibald charged his wife to see that the children "feared God and were obedient."7 The Presbyterian faith remained strong in this family. As each child was ready, the parents made a trek to the town of New Scotland, the nearest �Family Presbyterian Church, in order to have them properly baptized. Religion and education were inseparable in this household. Archibald, Jr. told his own children later how he learned to read the First Psalm by the light of the fireplace as his mother spun yarn on her wheel.8 The widow Elizabeth was an industrious mother, and was able to support her family adequately. "Grandma McClure was a good manager . . . She kept boarders, she made yarn and knit much, she put down pickels [sic] for a family in Albany named Russell. She was especially successful in spinning shoe thread and made . . . from it enough to more than keep her children in shoes. She also made linen thread which was sold in Albany."9 As the children were able, they helped their mother and grew up with the same industrious habits. The eldest son, James, went to Albany to be apprenticed to Mr. Russell, Mrs. McClure's "pickel" fancier. He owned a paint and glass store, and was so impressed with the work of James that when young Archibald was of age, on his fourteenth birthday, he too went to Albany to work for Mr. Russell. Archibald had been a sickly child, and was quite attached to his mother. She found it difficult to tell him straight that he was leaving home for good. She explained that the trip to Albany was to be a special birthday present, a holiday with his brother. She carefully gathered together his clothes and placed diem inconspicuously in the wagon. Elizabeth Craigmiles McClure did her best to give him an ordinary goodbye, but as soon as he was out of sight, she sat down and cried.10 Tradition handed down in the family tells of Archibald sleeping under the counter in Mr. Russell's store, and walking home to see his mother every Sunday, a fourteenmile round trip. Religion and education, as well as a gift for business, were yoked together in the McClure family. Mrs. McClure had certainly stressed these pursuits, and after only two years of Archibald's apprenticeship, Archibald and brother James went into business for themselves. They bought their own drug and paint firm in an Albany buzzing with money and big ideas. The Erie Canal had just been opened, and suddenly the town became the funnel for enormous wealth moving down to New York City. At the same time, young Archibald devoted himself to his own education by attending a Sabbath School his brother James helped to organize. Classes were held in a sawdust-floored carpenter's shop, and were designed to help those who worked the other six days of the week. This Sunday School was quite a controversial idea as many thought it a sacrilege against the sanctity of the Lord's Day. When the school tried to merge with the Second Presbyterian Church the issue almost split the congregation. Archibald himself saved the situation by convincing Mrs. De Witt Clinton, the governor's wife, to send her children to the Sunday School. Archibald McClure felt such gratitude to the school that for the rest of his life he worked to build up its resources and improve its services. He gathered together enough books to make a school library, an expensive aid to education in that era. Many of the poorest boys of Albany learned to read, write and 'cipher' at the Sunday School of the Second Presbyterian Church, hearing as well the gospel of Jesus Christ.11 �We Plow God's Fields Archibald married Susan Tracy Rice on May 22, 1833. She was a woman of such deep-rooted New England ancestry that she could trace five direct ancestors to the Mayflower. Her father had served in the War of 1812, and her mother had been William Cullen Bryant's first teacher. The poet honored her every year with a visit.12 Susan had grown up in Washington, Connecticut, and loved to describe the visit there of the Marquis de Lafayette in 1825. The seven Rice children were perched on the fence along the road, each proudly displaying a new pair of shoes. The great hero spotted them in his parade through town, and made the grand gesture of giving them a personal salute.13 Susan became a teacher like her mother, and went to Albany to accept a school appointment there. No one could have been more attractive to Archibald than a beautiful teacher, and happily his affections were well received by Miss Rice. They spent their honeymoon traveling along the Erie Canal to view the great wonder of New York, Niagara Falls.14 Susan and Archibald McClure raised a family of seven children in a prudent and sober atmosphere. Morning and evening prayers were an unvarying ritual of daily life. No liquor, smoking, card games or dancing were allowed at any time or in any place. Outside the home, the Second Presbyterian Church of Albany was the most important family focal point. With Archibald's business success, the McClure family's social position rose to a level of great influence in Albany. The mahogany dining room table, made for Archibald's family, became a gathering place for ministers, politicians and business leaders. Archibald's success allowed him time to travel as well. He made one trip to the Illinois frontier to investigate a mission society project of his wife's. In 1847 he sailed for Europe, returning to the world his father had left almost a half a century before. On his return voyage, the link to the future of this story was almost broken. A terrible gale blew up. And as the ship began to toss about Archibald became gravely ill. A friend made during the passage, a prosperous New York City merchant named James Gore King, cared for him and nursed him back to full health from a state perilously close to death. Without Mr. King, our narrative would never have been, because it was after Archibald's return that Susan conceived a fifth child. On November 24, 1848, James Gore King McClure, the father of our hero, drew in his first breath and let out his first wail of greeting.15 Religion, education and business continued to blend and support one another in the McClure household, and young "Jamie" absorbed a balance of all three. For him to be a minister of the gospel, however, was the dearest hope of his parents. Archibald had been unable to study for the ministry himself, and looked forward to the pleasure of sending one of his own children into that honored profession, fulfilling a personal dream through one of his offspring. To that end, they dedicated his young life, continually praying that the living God would lead their son into His service.16 After his near death at sea, Ardvbald undoubtedly felt a keen sense of gratitude toward his Creator. In any event, spiritual prompting affected young Jamie quite early. In later life he wrote: �Family Archibald McClure. The following note was written on the back of the portrait by James G. K. McClure, Sr.) "This portrait was painted in 1838 Frederck Fink (?) of Albany, N.Y.—when my father was 32. This was 10 years before I was born. The memory of my father is a constant inspiration to me in every high and holy line. He lived to be 66. His black hair was untinged. It was perfectly black." The first distinctive religious experience that I recall was in 1858—when I was nine years of age. The revival which originated in the Fulton St., New York City prayer meeting in 1857 was a prayer meeting revival . . . The meetings held in Albany were largely attended, were very hushed, had scarcely any exhortation, but had much outpouring of the heart in prayer . . . Moved by the atmosphere of such meetings, I asked a group of boys of my own age to gather in my father's dining room—perhaps ten in all—and have a prayer meeting �We Plow God's Fields Jamie McClure. of our own . . . At that time boys of our age were not allowed to unite with the church—so we were virtually left to ourselves.17 Jamie McClure grew up absorbed in the collected wisdom of his Presbyterian heritage, and with the stature of a taut and wiry athlete. His physical prowess opened up for him the boys' world of baseball, which complemented the heavy doses of ecclesiastical training he received at home and at church. He was a happy and witty child, able to gain the confidence of his peers. His father sent him to preparatory school in Massachusetts and it was there, in the spring of 1866, that he made a firm covenant with God. He once wrote. "It was at Andover that I became a Christian . . . My whole life has been shaped by the decision there made." (James Gore King McClure, Sr. to Marion Cooper, November 15, 1902) During his vacation, he united with the Second Presbyterian Church of Albany. Fortunately three questions were not asked me. One was: "Had I experienced a precious hope?" Another, "Was I distressed for my sins?" the third, "Did I love God?" These were questions often in the air. Now the fact was t h a t . . . I had not experienced anything "precious," I had not been distressed about my sins and I could not claim any such feelings toward God as my love for my mother. All these features were in due time to be the fruit of the Spirit-but I was just planted .. . Indeed I was rather irritated at God because I had felt forced to yield to Him and I initially said, "If you insist upon my being a minister, I will do as you say, but I don't want to ... "18 After his spring vacation, he returned to Andover with the adulation of all of his parents' friends ringing in his ears. Before he knew it, he was in trouble �Family and the headmaster had to suspend him from school for a serious breach of discipline. He had been attending a meeting of a theological society along with a ball-playing schoolmate nicknamed "Tompie." On the way home, a plan arose in some of the boy's minds to "egg" a particularly hated teacher. The final strategy was to: creep up the garden lawn and put the tick-tack9" on the window, pull the string and when old B comes out we will throw our eggs at him and run. This was a turn in affairs for which I was not prepared. But Providence came to my relief. The boy next to me was tossing his egg up in the moonlight (he was a base ball player) when it slipped past his hand and fell upon the ground— whereupon I said to him, "Tompie, you can throw straighter than I can, you take my egg." Pilate like I attempted to evade responsibility for the scheme in which I nevertheless was a participator. The scheme worked well. Old B came to his front door, the eggs showered upon him and we disappeared. The school authorities made a quick bed check, and the principal perpetrators were summoned . . . convicted and . . . suspended. What should the rest of the eleven do? In the spirit o f . . . loyal allegiance we drew up a paper stating that we were equally guilty with the three . . . and presented it to the Principal, who simply said, "You may consider yourselves suspended." Here I was—just having united with the Church—and suspended! What shakings of heads now by the elderly people, instead of pattings on the back— if they could know. We were allowed to remain in Andover -and no word was sent to our homes. After a week of uncertainty we were summoned one by one to the Principal's office and were told that if we apologized in person to Mr. B , we would be restored . . . I had learned the best lesson of my life.19 His deference to Tompie was all the more condemning because Jamie McClure was an outstanding baseball player in his own right. He eventually played on two semi-professional teams in Albany, the National Nine and the Albany Blues. Cousin Archie Bush, while playing for the Blues, is thought to have developed the first "curve throw."20 Jamie went to Yale University in 1866, became the captain of the baseball team, and was third baseman when the team trounced Harvard 38-18.21 Jim McClure, as his friends now called him, realized that baseball added a common touch to his reputation. He credited the sport for much of his success in influencing his classmates at Yale, because it broke down the stuffy image students might have had of the practicing Christian. He was chosen for the most prestigious secret society, Skull and Bones. At graduation, he was awarded the traditional giant wooden spoon as the most beloved man in the class. One professor, the distinguished Dr. Timothy Dwight, could testify to his personal appeal. He said, "I have not the command of *The author was unable to ferret out the exact nature of the 'tick-tack,' but perhaps a more astute reader will understand. ��Family 11 language to describe the position which he held in our class. Someone once divided the class into Lits and Pops. Jim was no mean scholar, attaining a First Dispute stand and enrolled in Phi Beta Kappa, but was pre-eminent in the latter class. No man in the class was more popular."22 And yet, Jim McClure maintained an active ethical vigilance against the moral laxity he saw sweeping the university following the Civil War. Heavy drinking had become a badge of manhood, and with all the fierce determination of his Covenanter ancestors, he fought what began as a one-man battle against the abominations of undergraduate life. He said, "My sense of responsibility led me to fight the drinking customs of the day . . . It was . . . a terrible grief to me to see ... scores upon scores of my classmates drunk. The class ahead of mine was notoriously dissipated. Its leaders tried to influence the sentiment and practices of my class. Quietly but unceasingly I endeavored—in every possible way—to get ahead of those leaders and thwart them—much to their disgust and anger."23 The confrontation on this issue was none too subtle. Some upperclassmen caught Freshman McClure and tried to force him to drink, " . . . but he resolutely kept his lips tightly shut and the whiskey poured over him."24 For four years Jim McClure exercised his sense of responsibility from the elected office of class deacon. That he took his duties seriously is clear by the testimony of a former underclassman: Dr. McClure . . . was perhaps the most prominent senior at Yale when I was a Freshman .. . While I naturally never spoke to him in college, I well remember that he called our class together near the end of freshman year and gave us a little talk urging us not to drink at all during Sophomore year and mentioning that liquor was never served in the successive fraternities of which he had been a member, an argument of much more force than can be imagined by one unfamiliar with the conditions .. . perhaps more than half the class, signed an agreement of compliance and I think observed it.25 Perhaps the life work of young Jim had been preordained by a pact made between his parents and God at his birth, and maybe he was dragged squirming and kicking against his will as he realized the moral force he was able to bring to bear on his contemporaries at Yale. In any event, when his college years were almost finished, he decided to attend Princeton Seminary. In pondering his decision, he credited the little boys' prayer meeting for opening " . . . the soil of the heart to seed thoughts and seed ideals that lay there quietly for ten years or more, and then the sunlight got down to them, and they felt the stirring of their life, and the boy decided to be a minister."26 Opposite: The National Nine, 1865. Players left to right: Lansing, Sprague, Johnson, Server, Waddell, Ross (Capt.) Woolverton, Cantwell, McClure. E.W. Trow, V. Pres; W. Bruce, Jr. Scorer; B.C. Smith, Pres. Published by Churchill andDenison, Photographers, Albany, N.Y. �NatfonoYBittd BaR. clnb of AltHPy, aiid the Riverniont club of this* village, played & match game on the grounds of tho latter club. A large number of spectator were present, among them many ladies, who viewed the content with pleasure and interest. The Nationals are n "crack chib,'* and their playing was very beautiful, and elicited the encoiniums of every beholder. The RivermontB hare been but recently •rganized, and having had but limited fraotiot, were not able to cope with their morlfractieed adversaries, with any hope of success. The Nationals are heavy batten, excellent fielder*, swift runners, and spry and active on the bases. Th|y scoreH fI3 runs to the Rivermonts IS—beating them U8 ran*. We append the set»re As4ow, which will give our readers on insight ler the game s BIVBBKO5T. <X x>nnKerpou, c.. * •pMtjifi __ii1i tf M A 8mith?Lew.sY*4 Rogers, 1st b.. 3 8trong,C.L.2b 3 .Strong, J. 3d b. 4 Smith, L.l.f.. 1 Oqurtney, ^'f*. 4 HATlOlfAt. B, o. o Bprogue,3db.. 6 Bush) e; .--.'•..: -0 1 Ross,r.f 2 2 3 I 2 Lansing, 1st b. 3 2 McClure, 2d b. 3 Brtabcrger, 1. f. 4 1 Johnson,e.-f... 2 « 1 B: 11 15 15 13 10 13 12 12 12 Total :..?7 15 Total....*....'87 113 Innings... 1 ^ 3 4 5 6 f 8 9 Rivermont 0 2 0 5 0 4 0 1 3— 15 National.. Q 32 7 9 23 H 0 J4O»—1KT tjmpiiy ^Plius. Llwyttfifl JJnderciiff Scorers—Me»«r8. Bruce and ScoticW. Fly-catches—Nationall3; Rirermont?. Time of game—3 hours and 10 minutes. At the conclusion of the gfttrto, whieh ended shortly after 6 o'clock, the clubs, with a few invited guests, repaired to Wood's Hotel, where about 8 o'clock, the company sat down to an excellent supper, provided by the Riveruiont club, for their guests Vigorous appetites appeared to result from the exercise taken, and. amid the clatter of knive»and forks, tho monster Rtmger ;was obliged to succumb. At the close of the repast, several brief speeches were made, and a number of songs given^ *U of which tended to strengthen the bands of friendship, so pleasantly begun. The Nationals are a body of gcntieafen, whose Courteous demeanor, pleasant manners, and smiling, frank oountcmuuM*, won tocwteem and respeot of rill. We wish them that racccm In their present tour, which their merits as ball players and gentlemen en* title them to. Tuesday morning they played with the Lorillard t-lnb of Rbiuebeck, beatiug them, wo believe, W runs. Weduenday they worti to piny at CUtld Spring, witli thb Undercliff!-*; Tburbday at MorrisaQiii, with the Unions; aai rri4»T 4t Bn>eklyn, with Ifcjj g^c �Family 13 If Yale had been the scene of his moral battles, Princeton Seminary would be the seat of his intellectual struggles. He later admitted that for his Yale years "I scarcely recall the actual material of any book in any department of my four years—though I had the supposedly best books of the day and had teachers of wide reputation."27 At seminary, he reined in his active social life in order to make up for lost time, and was able to master Hebrew and Greek and the philosophies of the day. Princeton Seminary in the early 1870s was being pulled back and forth by conflicting theological voices, but Jim McClure refrained from controversy, preferring to master the knowledge at hand in order to prepare himself for a life of service to whatever community the Lord entrusted to him.28 While he was in seminary, his father Archibald died of pneumonia. He never forgot how his father's influence had led him into the ministry. At the ordination of his own son, he reminded him: "At the time of the death of your grandfather, my father, two papers inscribed in his own handwriting were found in his private desk. One read, 'It is impossible to estimate the power of a completely consecrated life;' the other read, 'I have no greater joy than to know my children walk in TRUTH.' These two sentiments . . . speak of the religious earnestness of your ancestry."29 Archibald McClure had taught his Sunday School class for forty years, bringing 111 new Christians into the church. The power of his consecrated life had its background in the Scotch-Irish ancestors who had suffered so much for their beliefs, and his example would inspire his descendants to do mighty works in their respective generations. But mighty works begin one day at a time, and the Reverend James McClure left the heady atmosphere of academia for a small rural community of Christian souls in need of pastoral care and simple teaching. In 1874, the Presbyterian Church of New Scotland, New York, called the young graduate, and he accepted their offer.30 Years before, Jim's immigrant grandmother had carried his father to the nearest Presbyterian congregation to be baptized, in this very same church. The new shepherd of the flock became a beloved member of the community, known to all by the endearment "Dominie," the Scottish and Dutch term for minister. On at least one occasion, though, his youthful instincts betrayed his sense of pastoral duty. In a book of stories written for his grandchildren, he recounted the time that some of the young men of the congregation challenged him to a race. The winter snows were deep, and the evening service had just ended. The Dominie sped away in his sleigh, tearing along the country roads—to victory. Only then did he remember his promise to drive an older lady, one of the pillars of the church, home. She had remained forgotten on the church steps, wrapped in blankets, anticipating her drive in the young minister's sleigh.31 Despite such setbacks, the New Scotland Presbyterians hung onto their bachelor minister for five years. On November 19, 1879, he left his post to marry Phebe Ann Dixon, whom he had met just before accepting his first Opposite: Box score & story—National vs. Rivermont �14 We Plow God's Fields Kev. Jam** o. 1£. atcOiure Hid* Farewell to New Scotl&ud. Never in the events of the past hata scene been witnessed in New Scotland to compare with t on the evening of Sunday, October 5th, at the Presbyterian Church, Our dear pastor, Rev. O. K. McClure, was to apeak his farewell woro>. Soon after five o'clock carriages began entering the churchyard, and from that time on the crowd came pouring in. At a little past six o'clock the church was Ailed to overflowing. The aisles were packed) standing room could not be found in the vestibules, and enough were left outside to nearly fill the church were it empty. Every window was raised, and the window sills filled with people, much to the discomfiture of those who were crowding up to the windows from the outside. One had only to glance at the assembled throng, and the involuntary expression would be; "Behold, how they loved him." Newspaper clipping: Rev. James G.K. McClure Bids Farewell to New Scotland. position in the ministry. He met her at his sister Grace's marriage to her brother, Nathan F. Dixon. Their father was Rhode Island's Congressman. Phebe Ann Dixon was a gentle, sensible person who never appeared agitated or ruffled no matter what the circumstances. She had been born to privilege. Living with her parents in Washington, and studying in New York, she remembered shaking hands with President Abraham Lincoln at a White House reception. Her grandfather had been a U. S. Senator during the Jacksonian era. Later her brother, Grace McClure's husband, would become a Senator as well.32 In 1840, her grandfather wrote a prescription for greatness, while observing his colleagues in Congress: Since I have been here I have been more thoroughly than I ever was before convinced of what it is that makes great men. It is hard study—and intense application. The lawyers and members of Congress here work like slaves and no man at the present day can be favorably distinguished without i t . . . John Q. Adams is up every morning at four o'clock—takes his walk—and then down to his work—he studies more than twelve hours every day of his life . . . any man of ordinary capacity can be great who will adopt that course of industry.33 Phebe Ann's own father was described as "... remarkably endeared to all ... people, old and young, far and near, on account of his ease of manners, geniality of spirit and large generosity. He had the characteristic traits of the Dixons largely developed, namely, benevolence, hospitality, frankness and good fellowship."34 Phebe Ann moved easily from the political realm to her life as a minister's wife. She was quite accustomed to a home always open to visitors, �Family 15 +Atttt*.? At tt*rtfMeiM* of the Hon. Nathan F.Dix-«, •ttbe bout of four, Wednetday afternoon, bia Hits Annie P., WM joined to w4tti Kev J*Mtf1». K. MoClore, BOO UU Archibald McOtor*, of Albany. in» tHdegrootm b$tog tbe brother of Mrav Kathen F. Dixon, Jr. A TOT distingaishfd and brilliant party was pretent Oat tonr prior to the servicef, carriage after carriage rolled up the hill, while al 2:55 P. M.. • special train from Stoning, ton arrived, acd on the arrival«( the & 15 express from Froridenoe, many iadiea and gentlemen aUo arrived, ftoe bride was attireJ in a dress combination of while silk anftsatinf and in foil drefi rtyle. Her ornameoU w«ra rlsh and brilliant There were no brideamaide. Keetrt. E. Pnelpe Hnbtord and Q. P. Dixon, Jr., meted at ashen. Bev. Mr.fiLarria,of the Central Congregational Cfiurcb, of Proridenoe, offldated. [mmediately after the ceremony and the congratulation* of friend*, the Invited gueefc went cot to a enroptuoni collation. Toe hrlde'i pretentt were almoat endlete in num&er and uoeorparatd in eieganoe. The bridal party leave on the aiz o'clock expreae, to be atwent a few day*, when tbey return to pats Thankagifiog at home, and will sail for Europe on the 3d of Deer mber, in the Ounard iteamer Scytbia,—[Praridmcc 'Journal, Newspaper announcement of the McClure-Dixon wedding. and felt comfortable discussing topics of intellectual breadth. She understood how much the ambience of one's home contributed to an effective ministry. The union of the politician's daughter and the young minister was the talk of Westerly, Rhode Island, as the two clans gathered a second time for a marriage ceremony. A family story illustrates at least one conflicting tendency between the Dixons and the McClures. One of the McClures, less preoccupied than the others, noticed that many of Mr. Dixon's Washington friends made frequent visits to the private study. Pursuing the matter further, he discovered the dispensary of the young Reverend's most hated substance. "Mr. Dixon wanted neither to upset his ... in-laws nor to let his old friends go dry. He was a politic man!"35 The honeymoon was to Europe and the Holy Land, a time for the two young people to soak up the sights and sounds of the Old World, while being able as well to devote themselves to each other. With a characteristic sense of the past, James took his bride to County Armagh, Ireland, in search of living evidence of his family's Covenanter past.36 The marriage of these two people was a great union whose fruits would be a sense of purpose and great happiness. When James McClure was asked years later whether he might live his life over �16 We Plow God's Fields Correspondence of the Mew York Obwrrer. AMERICA ABROAD. BT BET. JAMI8 O. K. IfC CLUBB. To cross tbe Atlantic aud leave America entirely behind is to-day an impossibility. The traveller wbo sails away from his native shores with any such expectation has surprises in store for him at every point of his foreigu tour. His heartbeats lightly as he puts foot for the first time on European soil, and his eye brightens as he thiuks that all that | ha is now to sep will be uew and strange.*} Scarcely has he reached hia hotel at Liverpool before he opens his wiudow to look out upon the street life of England's L second commercial city. Right before' him in this laud which has sung the merits of its roast beef for centuries he sees a huge sign bearing tbe words, " American Beef," and he is forcibly remiuded of the statement he has often j heard, but never appreciated until now, |thut our Western cattle supply England's I tables with their choicest joiuts. "America A Broad." again, he replied that he would rather not, because "Suppose that somebody should get ahead of me and many my wife!"37 The newlyweds went west, to Illinois. The Reverend James McClure accepted a call from the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church. What had been a frontier when visited by his father was now, one generation later, a thickly settled and thriving state, with prosperous farms and a growing meat-packing industry. The city of Chicago was rapidly expanding, with its superb location as the hub of rail and inland water transportation. These two dedicated Christians stepped into the midst of a world of growing wealth (and materialism), and here they would raise their family and live out their ideals. Lake Forest, Illinois, twenty-eight miles north of Chicago, had been founded by Presbyterians as a suburban experiment, on 2300 acres along high bluffs above Lake Michigan. The founders hoped to build a community where they could bring up children in a Christian atmosphere, uncorrupted by die evils of the city. Lake Forest College was established in the center of town to encourage faithful Presbyterian scholars. The Reverend James McClure accepted the �Family 17 call of the one church in this community. For more than twenty years he handled each controversy with such delicacy, and maintained such a broad-minded, ecumenical spirit, that when he left there was still just one church, despite the rapid growth of the community. And it was not as though the sheep of his flock were mild-mannered and deferential. Some of the most powerful captains of industry moved to Lake Forest: the Farwells, the Armours, the Swifts and the McCormicks were only a few. Mansions were constructed, many to be used only in the summer. A swirling social scene came to life. And yet, amidst all the money and mansions, there was not a more respected and beloved man in the community than James G. K. McClure, nor a more cordial hostess than his wife, Phebe Ann. The charm, intelligence and integrity of these two influenced an entire town. James McClure was not afraid to stand up as he had done at Yale against the most powerful of men and demand excellence and virtue in Lake Forest. He took the leadership in routing the liquor interests. He could upbraid a church member, but most of all he was a sympathetic and understanding counsellor and Mend. Perhaps his greatest contribution was issuing a call to manly Christian living and to "high ideals of daring" to young people growing up in the midst of wealth and culture. James Gore King McClure, Jr. was born three years after his parents were called to Lake Forest. He shared with his sister Annie and three more children who were born later a great heritage reaching back to Scotland, Ulster, the Mayflower, New England and Albany. Religion had always been, for the McClures, the interpreter of life, and the boy would be taught about his family in that light. The great battle of each generation was a spiritual one. He was told of the Covenanters, the escape from Scotland, persecution in Ireland, the hardships of immigration to America, the Pilgrims' voyage, the struggles of his great grandmother McClure in Hamilton Factory, raising her five children to know the truth in spite of poverty, and of her son's devotion to his Sunday School. By adhering to the enduring principles of Christianity one could replenish and build up the spiritual stores on earth, and perhaps take a place among the family heroes. He learned the importance of developing a Christian character. The power and influence a family can have over its members can be overrated, but in the case of the McClures, how can that be? They have been ardent Presbyterians as far back as the historian can see, and right up to the present generation. There has been faltering along the way, but those members who have remained faithful to the ancient Christian ideals have lived extraordinary lives. 1. G.M. Trevelyan, History of England, Vol. H, 'The Tudors and the Stuart Era," (Garden City, N.Y.:1953), p. 177. (originally published in 1929) 2. Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," unpublished paper, no date, p. 3. The letter quoted was from Mrs. John McClure to Grace Griswold, March 26, 1900. �18 We Plow God's Fields 3. Ibid., p. 6. Also found in Archibald McClure and Elizabeth Craigmiles, his wife (private publication, 1938), p. 3-4. 4. James Alexander McClure, The McClure Family (Petersburg, Virginia: Frank A. Owens, 1914), p. 15. 5. Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 7. 6. Op. cit., Archibald McClure and Elizabeth Craigmiles, p. 4. 7. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 11-13. 8. Ibid. 9. Ibid. Cited from William M. Clemens, The McClure Family Records (New York: W.E. Clemens, 1914), p. 3. 10. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 14. 11. Ibid., p. 19-20. 12. Ibid., p. 24. Also mentioned in James Gore King McClure (Chicago: Lakeside Press, 1932), p. 27. 13. Christmas letter prepared by Katherine McDowell Rice, date unknown. 14. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 25. 15. Ibid., p. 30-33. 16. Op. cit., James Gore King McClure, p. 25-26. 17. James G. K. McClure, Sr., "Would I Do It Again?" Cleric, March 8, 1930. 18. Ibid., p. 4-5. 19. Ibid., p. 5-7. 20. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 45. 21. Op. cit., James Gore King McClure, p. 29. 22. Ibid., p. 31. 23. Op. cit., James G. K. McClure, Sr., "Would I Do It Again?" p. 10-11. 24. Op. cit., James Gore King McClure, p. 31. 25. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 46. 26. Ibid., p. 47. Taken from a piece written by James G. K. McClure, Sr., "The Autobiography of a Dining Table," Unpublished, p.9. 27. Op. cit., James G. K. McClure, Sr. "Would I Do It Again?" p. 9. 28. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 47. 29. James G. K. McClure, Sr., address given to his son James G. K. McClure, Jr. at the time of his ordination. 30. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 48. 31. James G. K. McClure, Sr., Grandfather Tells Some More Stories, from "The Horse That Won the Race," (Chicago: The Lakeside Press), p. 1-9. 32. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 51. 33. Senator Nathan F. Dixon, in a letter to Nathan F. Dixon, Jr. June 18, 1840. Found in a notebook of James G. K. McClure, Jr. dated November 1, 1910, p.61. 34. Op. cit., Elspeth McClure, "The McClures," p. 52. Originally from In Memoriam: Nathan Fellows Dixon (Rhode Island; private publication, c. 1881), p. 15. First published in the Providence (R.I.) Press, April 12, 1881. 35. Ibid. 36. Ibid., p. 53. �Chapter 2 Lake Forest The man or woman brought up in ... a home [of] self-sacrifice, trust and love . . . cannot help believing in mankind. He may be disappointed again and again but he knows that these qualities are real . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr., Iron River sermon, "The Family and the Home") As I lay in my bed at night—[a] candle from mother's & father's room lighting [the] rafters—I w[ou]ld hear Father night after night pray, kneeling by Mother—"Oh God Bless these boys." (James G. K. McClure, Jr., in his Santa Barbara notebook) Owners of country estates in Lake Forest spent Christmas much as the great land owners of England spend theirs each year, with family and friends and retainers about them. The arrival of snow on Friday night made the country more alluring than ever and a joy to the lover of outdoor sports. (A newspaper clipping stuck in Jim McClure's Santa Barbara notebook) Lake Forest, Illinois, remains a quintessential American suburban town. The grass is greener, well-nourished, properly (and regularly) clipped. Driving through the streets of Lake Forest, one senses that here is a community of people who have won a great victory over chaos and disorder. Peeling paint, dirty children, weeds and broken-down cars seem to have been zoned beyond the town limits. Beautiful homes present the unmistakable appearance of confident success. The business world lies down the train tracks in another realm altogether: Chicago. The view from the commuter train window as it approaches the city speaks of the daily litany of social and political evils that churn constantly there. By contrast, Lake Forest appears safe, tranquil and comfortable. Lake Forest occupies a two and a half mile bluff along Lake Michigan. The appearance of order has been imposed on an undulating terrain by skillful planners and architects. Deep ravines lie behind fine houses, allowing Lake Forest to retain most of its natural splendor. These ravines are a wonderful haven for children, who seem to prefer the disorder of the natural world to the order of their own lawns. The great lake is nearby, with all of its moods from calm to rage. The Lake Forest of today is the creation of well-organized and powerful people who have worked hard through civic clubs and local political offices to build up their town. In 1856, a group from Chicago left the city by rail to picnic along the high bluffs of Lake Michigan. The train dropped them off in a wilder19 �20 We Plow God's Fields ness accessible only by an old ox cart that wound around the ravines to a clearing in the woods. That clearing was the first improvement made by the Lake Forest Association. These men and women were interested in a project: to build a Presbyterian Seminary for the Northwest territories. Ironically, the project was spurred on by the promise of $40,000 from a Cincinnati brewery owner. When the money failed to materialize, the moral overtones of depending on such ill-gotten profits were not lost on those promoting the project.1 In fits and starts, lots were sold and resold, homes and schools were built, and the church became the focal point of the town. When James and Phebe Ann McClure moved to Lake Forest in 1881, the local economy was just sputtering along. Town real estate was moving slowly, and the old church, as the Dominie remembered, " . . . was not at all presentable. All along its side walls might be seen the impression made upon the paper by the heads that had leaned against it. ... Its furnaces . . . heated the head but left the feet well nigh frozen . . .; many times I have kept my overcoat on until I stood up to preach."2 A member of the Lake Forest ministerial search committee first remembered the name of James McClure in connection with the Yale baseball team, and that set into motion the train of events that brought him from the East. A group went to Albany to hear him preach, and he was subsequently invited to Lake Forest as a candidate. On his third Sunday, a member of the congregation gave him the first indication of his acceptance. ". . . Mr. Sylvester Lind, the Scotchman, perennial Mayor and general head of Lake Forest, met me in the aisle and said, 'And have you a lady?' 'Yes,' I said, 'I am a married man.' 'Well,' he continued, 'you may go your way back and get your lady, for I think we'll take you.'3 The Reverend McClure and his lady arrived in Lake Forest on September 16, 1881, during a torrential rain storm, and he later admitted, "We both were self-distrustful."4 He was to be the pastor of the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church for twenty-four years. He knew the hidden difficulties of many of the residents, and with his quiet charm and strong leadership he set a moral tone that earned him enormous respect. As he saw it, that respect enabled him to move people towards Christian perfection, and to influence the entire life of the community. His wife, known to her friends as Annie, fulfilled her variety of roles with the same evidence and appreciation of God's grace as her husband. The work of a minister's wife is difficult. Mother and housekeeper, paragon of virtue in the community, and entertainer of an endless stream of guests are all duties of the post. Her husband's time is the property of the community, and his working hours are irregular. She is expected to be a leader in the church, and most every other civic organization. Annie Dixon McClure's capacity for work and her ease with people served her well in Lake Forest, and as the children began to come, served them well also. On October 28, 1884, James Gore King McClure, Jr. was born into this place and this family. He was the second child, having left the chore of breaking �Lake Forest 21 lahe Jforest iJnsbgiman C|mt| PRAYER MEETING TOPICS Jan,, Feb., Mar,, 1882, Wednesdays (excepting Jan. 26th) at 7% p. M. JAN. 11,—-THE SPIRITUAL IJFE A CONFLICT. "We wrestle against spiritual wickedness." JAN 18.—MAINTAINING OUB GBOUND. "Stand therefore." JAN. 26.—TBUTH THE FIBST BEQUISITK TO VICTOBIT. "The girdle of truth." Day of Prayer for Colleges. FEB. l.—RIGHTEOUSNESS AN UNASSAILABLE DEFENCE. "The breast-plate Of righteousness." FEB. 8.—READINESS Tp OBEY ALL DIVINE INSTRUCTIONS. "The sandals of preparation." FEB. 16.—TBUST IN GOD DISARMS TEMPTATION. "The shield of faith." FEB. 22.—GOSPEL HOPE THE SAFE-GUABD FOB THE INTELLECT. "The helmet of salvation." MAB. 1.—GOD'S WOBD THE WEAPON OP THE CONQUEBOB. "The sword of the Spirit." MAB. 8.-^-PBAYEB A CONSTANT NECESSITY TO VICTOBY. "Praying always." MAB. 15.—VlGHLANCE ESSENTIAL TO VICTOBIOUS PBAYEB. "Watching thereunto with all perseverance." MAB. 22.—CONSIDEBATION OF OTHEBS A MEANS OF SAFETY. "Supplication for all saints." MAB. 29.—BESUI/T OF SUCCESSFUL SPIBITUAL CONFLICT. "Strong in tneLord." "Prayer meeting topics" from the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church, 1882. in his parents to the vicissitudes of child-rearing to his older sister Annie. Not yet six months, on April 19, 1885, baby Jamie was baptized in the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church, the duties being performed by a minister who served in Canton, China.5 The town of Lake Forest grew up around little Jamie McClure. When his father first came the streets were unpaved, the fire department was unorganized, and there was only a small shopping district of five stores. By the time Jamie graduated from Yale, there were six times as many stores, city water and sewerage, and an excellent rail service to Chicago.6 All of these accomplishments meant innumerable meetings of committees, and Dr. McClure was always sought out as a key figure in any undertaking. He first proved his determination when he made a great push to have a new church built. Mr. C. B. Farwell was perhaps the wealthiest man in his congregation, and when the drive to raise money for the new church building was under way, Mr. Farwell sent a note to his minister saying he was not giving a cent as he wanted ��Lake Forest 23 to support the University exclusively. Jamie Jr. later wrote in one of his notebooks, with obvious admiration: Father walked down the next Sunday before church and said, "Mr. Farwell I received your letter. Here it is. I want you to take it and tear it up." "Tear it up," answered C. B. "I never had a man talk to me like that." "Yes, I want you to tear it up" said Father—and he tore it up and later gave largely to the Church. Had he not torn up the letter and had he thought that Father had shown it to anyone that Mr. Farwell was on record so positively, he would have stood his ground for aye.7 In 1887, when Jamie was two and a half years old, the family moved to the Manse that was built along with the new church. The little boy was now firmly located for his childhood. Later on, when his father became president of McCormick Seminary, the congregation presented the Manse as a gift to the McClures, in order to keep them as a Christian influence in Lake Forest. After this extraordinary gesture of generosity, the McClures named the house "Gien Hame," Scottish for "given home." As well as holding firmly to their religious principles and remaining dedicated to education, the best of the McClures have also been effective businessmen. When Lake Forest University found itself in debt, the Board of Trustees called on Dr. McClure to become its temporary president. He promptly raised the money, and then returned full time to his church. In 1897 he was again installed as the president, remaining in office for the next four years. He not only wiped out the deficit, but also successfully followed through on a major building program.8 All of the talk and stories of these projects surrounded young Jamie as he grew up, and as later events bear out, the son learned well. The McClures made no pretense of their faith at home. There were five McClure children in all: Annie; Jim, Jr.; Harriet; Arch; and Nathan. They were surrounded by Christian teachings and habits, and were involved in church duties and the entertainment of numerous guests. Religion was a way of organizing life into a daily rhythm. Every morning in the Manse, family prayers were held and great petitions offered for those in the community in which we lived and for God's children everywhere, so that each child of the Manse felt an intimate relationship to the events of the day in households of joy and sorrow, in world conditions. Every Sunday afternoon at five o'clock Mother gathered the children about her for prayer. First she offered prayer asking God's blessing on Father, his work, the people of Lake Forest, and then praying for the missionaries in the home and foreign lands. In turn each child, according to age, followed with his petitions, so that.. . [Jamie] from his earliest days, could speak to God in the presence of others, and from his childhood days felt a deep interest in the people of every land and nation.9 Opposite, left: James G. K. McClure, Jr. Opposite, right: Annie and Jamie McClure. �24 We Plow God's Fields Religion in the McClure home was a serious matter, where principles of character in the conduct of one's affairs were continually discussed and emphasized. Correct behavior first, then self-sacrifice, were held up as the marks of a Christian. But the Reverend and his wife were not harsh parents; self-sacrifice was not taught as a form of flagellation. To give oneself freely to help others was simply the law of grace handed down by the Heavenly Father, who gave his Son as a sacrifice to an undeserving humanity. By acting on earth as an agent of grace, one comes naturally under the spiritual care of the Deity, and as such one receives incomparable spiritual blessings. The real battle in life was an unseen one, within the hearts of men, fighting against selfish tendencies in hopes of spiritual regeneration. These teachings were an integral part of the heritage of each child in the McClure family. The daily duties of the home fell on Mrs. McClure. She was no less a Christian than her husband, and because his time was so filled with duties, it was her influence in the early years that nurtured the children. From a pamphlet written about her, perhaps written by her husband, one learns that: She held stoutly to her [Christian] convictions but with persuasive gentleness. In her loyalty to high standards she made others aspire to them. She held an imperturbable mental serenity which was without coldness or aloofness. Although she herself was consistently efficient she was patient of the interruptions of others . . . she exercised tact without compromise and a diplomacy which sprung from a genuine interest in people. Her selfless, creative interest in other people characterized her in every waking hour.... With all her public responsibilities she still found time to foster for her own family an ideal Christian upbringing. She instinctively used methods of child training that many another mother struggles to learn from a book. Her techniques of Christian education were in practice what so much present-day religious training is in theory.10 Years later, she wrote her oldest son a compassionate note of support when he left home, revealing her tenderness and affection for her children: My beloved son, While you and Nathan are playing ball, I am writing a line which will, I hope, reach you on the steamer as you are starting. I have dreaded your going, for the joy of your presence with us again in the home, taking your place in the family life has been so great—that I have not known how I could get on without you. Today, that day of your acceptance God had filled my heart with more appreciation of the privilege for you of this year abroad and I shall try to feel glad that you are to go. You have been a great blessing to us all this year and a half, and I am sure that we are all the better, and stronger for your home coming. My thoughts and prayers will be daily with you . .. [You] may think of me as knitting early and late to get another necktie ready to send . . . I will also "en aliens" (I do not dare promise more definitely) encourage the family in literary pursuits. . . . �Harriet McClure and her mother, Annie Dixon McClure. �26 We Plow God's Fields Your devoted Mother, Annie D. McClure (Phebe Ann Dixon McClure to James G. K. McClure, Jr., April 29, 1909) In the church, she made use of her natural talents as a mother to care for other children along with her own. She knew each by name, and taught them in Sunday School. At home, the Manse was open to all, without a tinge of reservation. And people came. Missionaries, visiting intellects, university students, members of the congregation and later any and all connected with McCormick Seminary. The table around which those varied people gathered came from the McClure house in Albany, where it had been used for the same hospitable purposes. Christmas often meant a sit down meal for thirty-three,11 and for Thanksgiving: At dinner we had four students—later in the afternoon . . . fifty students and members of the Faculty families dropped in upon us for a cup of tea, for singing and for games. I am sure you will appreciate my statement that Mother, Annie and Harriet were quite wonderful in their ability at such a time. Everything moved off yesterday without the least suggestion of difficulty, and all the guests were happy. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 26, 1909) There is evidence of at least one quiet Sunday in the life of this family: We had an almost undisturbed Sunday. We read, sang, attended services, listened to Annie's paper on the Passion Play, talked and went to bed. Perhaps it is selfish—but I trust not, to spend a day in this way. Our thoughts were on high themes, we were happy and we came to the opening of the week refreshed in heart as well as body. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 27, 1910) While in Lake Forest, on many Sundays Dr. McClure spent the time between services making calls on members of the congregation. In his twenty-four years, the Dominie made 19,211 such visits (as he meticulously recorded), and one can only marvel at the amount of coffee and tea he must have consumed! He loved to take young Jamie along with him, both as a chance for father and son to be together, and as a way to soften the entrance into a parishioner's home. When he was old enough, Jamie would hitch up his Welsh pony Erma and drive his father in the buggy. The son could observe how his father, with a kindly smile and a remembered shred of information, would break down the barriers that separate people. To be able to make people laugh and feel at ease is a great gift, and it was perhaps on these visits that the young man learned these skills from his father. Humor was a means by which Reverend McClure could enter a home and relieve fears enough so he could really comfort or advise the people in his care. The son would later employ the same skills. Jamie's first agricultural venture is revealed in a notebook he kept when �Lake Forest 27 Note home from school, 1892. he was eleven and twelve. He recorded an expense of $1.30 "For grit and powder, 50c for chicken feed and 15c for a poultry almanac." Maybe the business was in its early stages, but the only income evident is a mere ten cents for eggs sold. Much more profitable was his delivery enterprise. He charged fifteen cents an hour, and cleared almost $2.00 in July, not including the nickel he found. Golf was a large drain on his finances, especially when it cost him $1.25 to repair his broken driver. He did earn thirty-five cents for "cadying," but his golf bill ate that up. A nickel for "cracker jack," a penny for gum were his only apparent splurges, while a dime went to Sunday School and $1.42 for Christmas presents. The next year tennis balls show up as an expense, and the chickens had become a luxurious hobby: "exhibition coop, $1.50." The missionaries garnered a mere seven cents, which still might be respectable considering a twelve-year-old's sense of priorities. A recurring expense was his subscription to "Steady Streams," which was not a fishing magazine but a children's missionary society organized within the church, in which Mrs. McClure was quite active. It provides a good example of how church life affected the views of its young people. The unrealized possibilities of the Sunday School was a thought constantly on the mind of the mature Jim McClure. During the Second World War, he proposed that the churches of America train their young people to go into the world in a Peace Corps-like venture. He reasoned that if Hitler could motivate his people for evil, why couldn't the church motivate theirs for good? His grandfather Archibald, who taught Sunday School for forty years (and was never once late!) had clearly made his mark on his descendants. Young Jamie joined Steady Streams at birth. The Victorian era was a great one for societies and clubs, and was also a period of intense missionary effort. What could be more natural than a club to develop in young people an appreciation for foreign lands and the work the church was doing there? Steady Streams also worked to �28 We Plow God's Fields inculcate the habit of Christian giving, and the song sung at every meeting was none too subtle on this point. Give, said the little stream Give, O give, give, O give! Give said the little stream As it hurried down the hill. I am small I know but wherever I go Give, O give, give, O give I am small I know but wherever I go, The fields grow greener still.12 At the April 1897 meeting, the subject was India, and the children were to describe an imaginary journey there. "Jamie McClure told of the trip to Benares, the holy city of India, and of the pilgrims they met there."13 In time the boy would actually visit this city, and throughout his theological training he fully expected to enter the mission field. The spirit of Steady Streams was a vibrant reflection of the times, and that spirit made its mark on Jim. An old pamphlet from Steady Streams concludes with this version of a Mother Goose rhyme: Little Jack Horner Sat in a corner Eating a Christmas pie, While out in the cold, With hunger untold, He heard another boy cry.14 But Jamie McClure was a normal boy, and he did not spend all that much time worrying about the hungry people of the world. There were his hens, and his friends. And of course there was school, in his case the Lake Forest Academy. This letter to his mother, who was visiting her family in Westerly, Rhode Island, reflects his interests. "I hope you are safely at Grandmas . . . I got a ninety five in my Algebra . . . Yesterday I got three eggs and day before I got two . . . 1 gave Papa a dozen eggs last night and he paid me ... We are having pretty good meals and Annie is very good to me. We miss you very much but under Annie's care we get along beautifully without you." A postscript from Annie, very suspicious of her brother's charm, is included. "I think Jamie must have added this last thinking I was to see the letter and that must be the reason for these compliments . . . " (James O.K. McClure, Jr., to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, February 12, 1897) Three days later he wrote again to his mother. "Jamie Fales sent for some white fantail pigeons and two pair came today . . . I have been over at Judy's all the afternoon . . . shooting paper wads . . . Tell Uncle Nathan that my Wyandottes are laying a great deal better than the Leghorns . . . Tonight Mrs. Holt sent over some ice cream . . . " (James O.K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, February 15, 1897) �Lake Forest 29 Xafce Jorest Report For Year 1897-1898. FIRST FORM. Beginning Latin . . English Algebra U. S. History English History. . . SECOND FORM. Caesar Latin Prose Beginning Greek. . English Algebra Zoology Ancient History. . THIRD FORfl. ^ ty £ 5 y... •? F Cicero Anabasis* f? ^ ^ German French ™ • ..£?. 9+w * Greek Prose £ FOURTH FORM. Virgil.. > L fr Iliad English German French. r^dui^W ^4*^ r, Above 90, E for Excellent: from 80 to 90, G for Good : from 75 to 80, F for Fair : below 75, P for Poor. 75 is passing mark. ..Head Master. Report card, 1897-1898. He may have learned to shoot wads at the Academy, because he gained a strong reputation there as a prankster. Years later he ran into two young men in Berlin, and wrote home t h a t " . . . the strange looking one asked me if by any chance I ... was the Jimmie McClure who used to disturb things at the Academy . . . " (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to his family, November 9, 1909). Under his picture in the Academy annual are the words: "James G. K. McClure, Jr. �30 We Plow God's Fields has practiced his innocent little pranks upon the inhabitants of Lake Forest for fifteen years. He ... is the youngest graduate of the Academy."15 He was in fact three or four years younger than most of the other seniors. Jamie McClure possessed an excellent mind and was a precocious student. His home life provided an extraordinarily rich blend of ideas and discussion, and his parents took a strong interest in their children's education. Jamie excelled in mathematics, but mastered the entire secondary school curriculum with only one mark below 80 percent. A good dose of Greek and Latin were considered excellent remedies for ignorance in that day. Jamie mastered, or in any event completed, translations of Caesar, Cicero, Anabasis, Virgil, Xenophon and Homer, all before he was sixteen. He commented, "Every morning at 9:45 o'clock we have to go to Little Bill's room to study Algebra. He said that he would give the best ones a little extra work: so this morning I started to work my examples for tomorrow and I did them pretty quickly, so he gave me another book to work the examples out of. They were awftilly hard but I got ten" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, February 15, 1897). Jamie grew up breathing an intellectual air that promoted science as the means to solving problems, and this faith remained with him always. In his youth, he would take great pains to describe events with such precision that their meaning was often lost in the detail. At his graduation ceremony, the commencement address of one John Harlow of Chicago made a lasting impression on him. At best, his memory of the speech made it sound hackneyed and predictable, but it expressed heroism and a life of purpose. To a precocious fifteen-year-old, that was enough. He reported: "John Harlow . . . told us that as we got on in life we must every so often go to the looking glass and face the man we saw there and ask him what he was doing with his life—whether he could respect himself, whether he was making any contribution to the rest of the world, whether he was helping the world; whether he was doing his part or whether he was wasting his life."16 These words stuck with him, and there were to be periods of his life when facing that mirror was very painful. But always, he could count on the support and encouragement of his family. Reverend and Mrs. McClure worked at their family life, made it the first priority of their marriage, and were rewarded with devoted children. And they in turn remained loyal to one another. The oldest, Annie, eventually married Dumont Clarke, a minister. He and Jim became great friends, and in time both would move to North Carolina to share in the work of the Farmers Federation. Jim's younger sister Hetty, or Harriet, had an exuberant personality that matched his. Whether in serious matters or in family pranks, these two siblings remained close. Archibald or Arch followed Jim to Yale and through divinity school, and always saw his older brother as a source of wisdom and honest advice. The two older boys corresponded often, debating weighty theological and philosophical issues of the day. In fact the entire family was quite comfort- �Lake Forest 31 Seated, left-right: James McClure, Jr., James G.K. McClure, Sr., Annie Dixon McClure, Nathan McClure. Standing, left-right: Harriet McClure, Archibald McClure, Annie McClure. able discussing matters of the intellect, a tribute to the broad-minded environment fostered by the minister and his wife. Then there was baby brother Nathan, whom Jim adored. Nathan kept him up to date on the fortunes of the Cubs and White Sox, and in return Jim liked to take him out to the ball parks. Professional baseball in the early 1900s was thought by many to encourage the most boorish and uncouth of habits. How was a child to build up his character if his heroes were baseball players? But the sport had been a large part of Reverend McClure's life, and he was wise enough to realize that children hemmed in on all sides by petty rules could lead a suffocating existence. The playful and happy life of these children can be gathered from this excerpt from a wonderful letter Jim wrote to Nathan from Germany, where he was studying: " . . . [y]our fears of what I will do to you for pushing me off the raft are well grounded. I have not fully made up my mind what I will do to you . . . I am sorry to say that your life next winter will be a hard one. I have been practicing on German children and have made several boys and girls cry simply by looking at them . . . I intend to take one whole year to think up a fitting return for pushing me off that raft." He went on to tell Nathan of the circus he had attended in England, where he shook hands with the tallest woman in the world and watched elephants play cricket. Jim concluded with the remark, "The children in Paris seem to be a very happy set—in Ger- �I #*& ^1 . �Lake Forest 33 Jamie's parents. many I have not seen so many children, probably because I was preparing for next winter and they see me coming and hide in the houses." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Nathan McClure, 1910). The raft incident undoubtedly took place on one of the family outings to Wisconsin. Dr. McClure's wealthy Lake Forest parishioners gladly offered their summer camps to the family for vacations. Pictures survive of Jim with his sisters and parents, all in the remarkable bathing garb of the era, posing selfconsciously for the camera. The physiques of the family range from the lanky, angular style of the McClures to the more rounded, almost pudgy Dixon model. Without question, Jamie was on his mother's side in this matter. His oval, smooth face always made him look younger than his contemporaries. He joined sister Annie in this respect, but Arch inherited the almost Lincolnesque body of his father. On one of these trips to Wisconsin, the two elder siblings, Annie and Jim, remained behind when the rest of the family returned to Lake Forest. From Lake trip with family and friends. Young Jim McClure in the center, seated, parents standing behind. Jamie (left) with friends on a buggy. �34 We Plow God's Fields Island Lodge, Lakewood, Wisconsin, the thirteen-year-old boy (apparently suffering a spelling relapse during the summer vacation) reported home that: Sunday, in the morning we had church in which we sang and Mr. Wheeler read a chapter from In His Steps as a sermon. In the afternoon Annie and I went off in the woods and read and Annie here a noise and there stood a dear it was awfully pretty but as soon as it saw us it turned and ran. At about five we all went out in the boats and joined them and sang. This morning Mr. Wheeler and I got up at five o'clock to go bass fishing, we fished 'till eleven o'clock leavig [sic] out breakfast but the fish must have been all caught for we did not get one. All the rest of the party started off for Boot Lake but only got so far as Bass Lake because some went one way and some another. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr., August 29, 1898) The book In His Steps, by Ralph Connor, is the story of a young man, quite popular in upper-class society, who makes the decision to become a practicing Christian, thus setting himself against his friends' standards of behavior. It had a lasting effect on Jamie, and he urged his children to read it in later years. Jamie McClure, now beginning to be called Jim, graduated from Lake Forest Academy in June 1901. What to do with this lively young man next? His wise father knew that Yale College was not the place for a fifteen-year-old boy, and what could he do in a wealthy suburb like Lake Forest where everyone knew him as the son of their beloved minister? He spent some months at Lake Forest College, living at home, but apparently had little interest in his studies. Jim had a lot of Tom Sawyer in his nature, and he yearned to find out what life was like beyond the fringes of the circumscribed civilization of Lake Forest. There were tastes of wilderness on the family jaunts to Wisconsin, and yet life there dealt with the natural world from within the bounds of Victorian habits and decorum. There was no grit or struggle, and too much talk. And most of all, there were no Huck Finns, poor boys up against the real fight of life, with whom to join in comradeship on some great adventure. Vigorous boys at the turn of the century all dreamed of going to one place, where life was down to basics and where what talk there was, was to the point and necessary. In 1902, Owen Wister wrote The Virginian, establishing the American cowboy on the pinnacle of the American Olympus of mythological heroes, and Texas was the home of the cowboy. In the spring of 1896 Dr. McClure had gone to the XIT Ranch in the Panhandle of Texas as a guest of the Farwells, who owned a part interest in it. He returned with stories and descriptions that were bound to excite the imagination of any young boy. The characters he met and the vocabulary they used did nothing to tarnish young Jim's dime-novel view of the cowboy. Dr. McClure had kept a journal of this expedition. The XIT was then the largest ranch in the world, occupying as much land as several states. At first the Panhandle was thought to be virtually worthless. Rainfall was minimal. Very �Lake Forest 35 little grew except prairie dogs and coyotes. But after the cattle boom in the 1870s ranch land became more valuable. The people who lived on the XTT in 1896 were isolated and often lonely. A man's wife could go six months without seeing another woman. With such a thin population and a geography that attracted desperate men, there was naturally a law enforcement problem. Into this world came the gentle Reverend. His guide was a Mr. Boyce, "a wonderful combination of activity, fearlessness, principle and purpose."17 Spending the night with this man, he was shown several bullet holes where the Graham brothers, local cattle rustlers, had tried to shoot his host. In the ensuing melee, six-shooters blazed and one Graham and the sheriff died. The other Graham went to the "pen" and was eventually released. He was reportedly out to avenge the loss of his brother, aiming to ambush Mr. Boyce. "It is not much of a wonder that he carries a six-shooter with him when he is off on his wanderings," Dr. McClure wrote. The minister went by buckboard more than 500 miles, camping out with Mr. Boyce who loved to wake up his citified guest with injunctions such as "Take up your bed and walk."18 He met horse wranglers and watched a roundup. When the cook sang out, "Chuck is ready," he helped himself with the other cowboys. One of his favorite stories, often retold to his children in Lake Forest, involved meeting a local legend—Ira Atin. People had told me about a very brave fellow. Once two men had threatened to shoot him. They were standing close to him. Putting his hands in front of his chest as one catches a ball he said "Shoot and I will catch the bullet and throw it back." They shot, neither hit him . .. one dodged behind the corner of a building and the other under a wagon. They shot again. Then he drew. He shot through the corner of the building and hit one on the arm: then he shot under the wagon, got his man in the back of the neck and he dropped. Then the men came forward, apologized and said, "Ira, you are a better man than we thought."19 Near the end of his western trip the gentle minister was packed into a small room one night with some strange cowpokes. Somehow I could not sleep. The moon was still bright. It was past midnight when to my utter amazement what should appear in that doorway but a man. It was but an instant before he was down the steps. What did this mean I asked myself. He struck a match; he entered. The match woke the sleepers. They saw his face. "Is that you, Ira?" they said. "Yes." One rolled a little closer to his bed fellow and said, "here's room." In a few moments I was asleep.20 There was something in the independent spirit of these men that appealed to James G. K. McClure. Many years later he himself drove off two robbers from the house on Halsted Street in south Chicago, where the McClures lived while he was president of McCormick Seminary. As he and his wife lay sleeping �36 We Plow God's Fields Jamie McClure, Jr., in front; Sister Harriet on right, standing beside brother Arch. Annie McClure stands behind little Arch. Others in photograph are unknown. he was wakened by a light shining in his face and a voice telling him not to move. Leaping out of bed with a shout he rushed down the stairs after the fleeing intruders. They fired several shots as they ran, but miraculously missed. The bullets sank harmlessly into the walls of the stairway. He told his family afterwards he had never thought to be afraid. When one of the Farwell brothers heard that their minister was wondering what his son could do until he was old enough to attend college, he immediately suggested the ranch in Texas. Young Jim, stimulated by his father's tales, enthusiastically embraced the plan. It was surely a dream realized, a chance to swap the refinements of Lake Forest for the sweat and leather of Texas. A photograph remains of Jamie McClure as a child, and it says a great deal about his youth. He must have been eight or nine years old. His brothers and sisters are all bunched around him, their dour expressions reflecting perhaps the coercion that was applied to get them all into their clothes and before the camera. Jim sits cross-legged in front, with one hand holding the collar of the family pup, a marvelous little white dog with one black patch over its left eye. Jim's shoes are the high-laced variety, with the laces hooked to the proper tension. His socks disappear under his knickerbockers, and his knickerbockers disappear under a checked coat buttoned three times. Poking out from a Little �Lake Forest 37 Lord Fauntleroy collar is his round Dixon head. A most stupendous polka-dotted bow tie dangles from beneath the collar. And on top of that head a small, curl-brimmed hat is perched, making either the head appear too big or the hat too small. The brim travels just over the eyes of our young hero, and already they are eyes of distinction. In later years, his eyes could sparkle when he was having fun, they could bear down on someone whose performance had come up short, and they could mesmerize the ladies. And so what else can be said for this picture of our hero? My bet is that hat, collar, tie, knicks and shoes all came ripping off before the photographer was halfway through dismantling his equipment. The life of this boy would create a man of unusual instincts. He would grow up to be part theologian and part missionary, part cowboy and part intellectual. All of these tendencies were kept boiling by Jim's extraordinary pursuit of heroism. He wanted, desperately, for his life to stand for something great. He sought challenge, not as a businessman does, but more like the best of missionaries, who burn with desire to change people's lives. At age sixteen, he was anxious to taste the different diets of the folks of this world, and so with all the dreams of youth he headed west to be a Texas cowboy. 1. James G. K. McClure, "History of the Presbyterian Church," A pamphlet printed in April, 1905. 2. James G. K. McClure, Sr., "A grateful Review of his Happy Pastorate of the Presbyterian Church, Lake Forest, Illinois, as Presented on the Twenty-fourth Anniversary of the Pastorate" (Unpublished), Sept. 10, 1905. p. 8. 3. Ibid., p.5. 4. Ibid., p. 6. 5. Notation in the baby book of James G. K. McClure, Jr. 6. James G. K. McClure, Sr., "History of the Presbyterian Church, Lake Forest, Illinois" unpublished, 1905, p. 26-27. 7. James G. K. McClure, Jr., personal notebook, dated 1910. 8. James G. K. McClure, Sr., "History of the Presbyterian Church Lake Forest," p. 38. 9. Untitled pamphlet about the life of Archibald McClure, printed privately, 1931. 10. "An Appreciation," paper about Phebe Ann Dixon McClure (unpublished), no date. 11. James G. K. McClure, Sr., letter to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Dec. 27, 1910. 12. "For Auld Lang Syne: A Retrospective of Steady Streams," pamphlet printed in 1906. 13. Ibid. 14. Ibid. 15. Lake Forest Academy Annual, 1900, p. 125. 16. James G. K. McClure, Jr., sermon given at the Iron River Presbyterian Church, Jan. 1, 1914. 17. James G. K. McClure, Sr., "Among the Cowboys of Texas," unpublished, no date, p. 9. 18. Ibid., p. 13. 19. Ibid., p.56-57. 20. Ibid., p.57. �Chapter 3 Texas Please tell Father that the razor was a plumb good one and I thank him ever so much for it. (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to Grace McClure, February 2, 1902) If you send off a young lad, already inclined to be Tom Sawyeresque, to live among cowboys, eat their food, and talk their talk, and then try to bring him back home, you have to expect some resistance. The benefits of life in Lake Forest are hard to dispute, but Jamie McClure wanted to taste a rougher and manlier world. He wanted to be on his own without the amenities a mother provides. Like most young men at the turn of the century, bronco busting, chuck wagons, chaps and cowpokes evoked for him the gritty, but nonetheless romantic world where coyotes, long-horned steers and wild horses squared off against courageous men. Jamie threw himself into that world, and when his allotted time there was over it was his love for his family, his sense of duty, and his father's persuasive ability rather than the attractions of Yale's intellectual and social life that convinced him to leave. Young Jim McClure landed in Texas in November of 1901. He arrived at the Shoenail Ranch through a connection with a Presbyterian minister in Chicago. Word that he was coming came late, and without a letter of introduction he appeared to be just another greenhorn Yankee looking for a job. He was taken on and thrown in with all the other hands. He had to make his own way without the benefit of his father's introduction, which suited him just fine. In later years Jim was always quick to say that at the start he was just plain lucky. It was probably at the Shoenail that a group of horses were corralled and Jim was asked if he could ride a bad horse. Not being constituted to say "No" in the face of a challenge, he said he could. One of the cowboys brought forward several noted buckers for the suburban greenhorn, one after another on successive days. He was told to "Thumb 'em and hang 'em in 'em," which means run your thumbs up the horse's mane the wrong way and spur him at the same time to irritate him. All these procedures Jim carried out, but still these broncos just trotted off with him. The days happened to be quite warm, Jim was a confident rider, and the horses were in no mood to act up. The greenhorn began to acquire a name for himself. They called him "Chicago Jim," and fortunately his reputation for riding a bad horse remained untarnished. He found himself well accepted in this new society. 38 �Texas 39 In winter, there was time to become close friends with the other cowboys. Two fellows named Emory and Enoch became devoted to Chicago Jim and vice versa. He wrote to his family: Emory and I set traps. The next morning we w e n t . . . [and] found nothing but a hawk in one and shot a few quail.... I shot a large Mallard duck. Wednesday was spent in fruitlessly hunting duck and getting about 10 or 12 quail. . . . Thursday for dinner we were going to have duck but the duck failed to materialize (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, December 1, 1901) A few days later: Yesterday . . . we all went to town. Emery and I got a hair cut and ate a fine dinner at the hotel. I then got my saddle repaired.. .. We then watered some stock and the horses. .. . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure, December 10, 1901) On the day following: After dinner Babe Owens, Enoch, Emery and myself went to West Pasture. . .. We rode nearly twenty-five miles during the afternoon.. . . Father's pants which I brought along have already given out completely at the seat. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure, December 11, 1901) Perhaps it was a sign of his growing confidence that he dispenses for the first time with his childhood name and signs the letter, "Your devoted brother, James G. K. McClure, Jr." Even though going to church meant a two-hour buggy drive to town, he often made the effort to go, even if he had only "womenfolk" for company. This morning Mrs. Craven, Miss Hempstead and I went to church in the buggy. They had no church at the Presbyterian or Methodist churches so we went to the Baptist. The church was full and the preaching was certainly queer. The house was so full that one old fellow sat on the carpet on the platform. The chairs had done give out. There were sure a right smart a people there. If you happen to have an extra razor. . . . I wish you would forward it by mail as my G. strings are about 1/2 inch long. Maybe that accounts for my weight. . . . The presents that you'uns sent were fine. . . . [I am] more thankful every day that I have such a fine Father and Mother and brothers and sisters. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr., December 30, 1901) Jim was trying out the language of his new buddies, and apparently ready to begin serious shaving (although the G. string terminology certainly is baffling!) Even more than his reference to needing* a razor, however, it is his stated appreciation for his family that shows he was gaining a new perspective. When the child ceases to take his upbringing for granted, he is beginning to see himself in a new light. �40 We Plow God's Fields Such a new perspective is often hardest for mothers to accept. Young Jamie dashed off a note to "My dearest Mother" on New Year's Day. She had sent him some cookies and a homemade plum pudding, and had inquired tentatively as to when he might return home. In this note, he revealed to her an astounding plan. "As to coming home I thought that I would spend the winter here and . . . start from here about the first of April with Emory and . .. ride home on horse back. The ponies cost about twenty dollars apiece and we could take a tent, bedding and a few cooking utensils on a pack horse. I think the best plan would be to tell fortunes on the way home and live as the gypsies do" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, January 1, 1902). He had a lifelong ambition to live for a time like a gypsy. He loved the exhilaration he felt when completely free and independent. The reaction of his mother to this idea was predictable, and somehow the idea was squelched. It was the freedom of Texas, where the very geography breathes the word, that helped to mature young McClure. The pictures he took with Harriet's Kodak camera, which she loaned him for the trip, show a land so vast and flat that the barns and people look inconsequential. He loved to photograph friends, and his horses. "The picture of the single horse is Bob Short with my saddle on. My thumb got in the way and spoiled his head" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr., February 5, 1902). Next to Bob Short in his album is a picture of a wildcat that was caught and tied up by one of the other hands. Another shows Jim posing on one of his horses, cutting a fine figure with a large cowboy hat, vest, boots and lasso. He loved to hunt coyotes, and wrote to brother Arch: "... we jumped a coyote quite near us. The dogs went after him on all fours and Ned and I right behind. Old Swapsie (a dog) caught him in about half a mile and the dogs just ate him up. He had Miss Dordy (another dog) by the upper jaw and swung her round and round but when she got loose she just tore at him.... It was fine" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, February 16, 1902). And to his poor mother he wrote, "Can you please ask Father to let me know how he got his coyote skins home and how much he paid to have them made into rugs" (James G, K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, January 19, 1902). In a birthday letter, he undoubtedly scared her to tears with this story: Talk about your Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, we beat it all to pieces Thursday. They brought up four broncos which had never had a rope on except when they were branded. We had been coyote hunting and when we got in we threw up for the first choice. I was the lucky number.... I chose a boy with a white spot on his face.. . . When we got back from feeding the cows and calves . . . I . . . saddled my bronco and rode him. We had to ride without bridles, simply with halters. Mine didn't do anything at first but shortly decided that he wished no more of me and pitched a little. . . . It felt very funny to ride all over the prairie totally unable to guide your horse. I had a short rope to quirt [whip] mine with and accidentally I hit him on the tail with it and he broke in two for a second or so. �Texas 41 We are each going to get three dollars when they are broken to saddle and bridle. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, February 22, 1902) Jim McClure made his mark in this cowboy world as a bronco buster. Of all the challenges not involving a six-shooter, taming a wild horse earned the most respect in this society. It was a skill that took great courage, and one that Jim was justly proud of ever afterwards. He became friends with a bronco buster named George Young, and they teamed up to ride from ranch to ranch to break horses. They were paid $3.00 a head to "bridle 'em, saddle 'em and ride 'em five times." These horses, mostly four-year-olds, were herded in from the range where they had grown up in perfect freedom except for the terrifying experience of being branded as colts. Jim used the Kodak to record an excellent sequence of George Young, master broncobuster, saddling a bronco, mounting, riding through the first jump, and finally astride a subdued horse. Jim's daughter remembers him telling her about their experiences: .. . most of the cowboys hated to ride a bronc.... He and George would take the broncs turn about, and at first it seemed to him that George always got the worst ones. After riding a particularly tough bronc the first time, George would sometimes have blood running out of his nose, mouth and eyes! Once . . . they had finished all the broncs at a ranch and went in to get their pay. The boss said there was one bronc they had not yet ridden. My father was very tired and said he wouldn't ride it, but the boss was insistent. Finally my father said he would look at it. He went up to the corral and saw the horse standing exhausted at one side of the corral. He realized that it had just been driven in from the range by the cowboys and that it was exhausted. So he said he'd ride it right away. He soon discovered it was not a young bronc (four years old as they usually were) but a horse of about seven and probably an outlaw. But since it was so exhausted he saddled it right up and decided to ride it on the range rather than in the corral . . . it just walked off quietly. Pretty soon a "norther" sprang up, as sometimes happened in Texas. At first he felt just a little puff of wind, then another and another. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in minutes, and the cold wind roared. The bronc pricked up its ears. It began to feel better and better. Then it started to buck. My father said he rode it from its ears to its tail, and it kept right on bucking. All the time he kept spurring the horse and sawing on the bit. At last the horse slowed down until its bucks were just crow hops and finally it stopped altogether. It was all bloody from the spurs and at its mouth, too. And my father rode the horse slowly back to the ranch. It was a rough business on both horse and man. This horse remained a tough one to ride. One day my father needed to go into town and decided to give the bronc a good workout. When they arrived at the town corral, the horse was terrified of all the wagons, men and buildings . . . things it had never seen. My father tried to leave it in the corral, but the horse just put its head on my father's shoulder and followed him like a dog. After that the bronc never bucked with my father again. It was a regular pet, but no one else could ride it. It was a "one man horse." When my father went East some �42 We Plow God's Fields of his friends wrote him about that horse. No one could ride it and they sold it to a rodeo.1 Jim's success at this job was all the more remarkable as he had ridden very little more than old Erma back in Lake Forest. The letters he wrote home spilled over with the ebullience of his new life. Sensing a potential problem, his father continually reminded his son that Texas was only a short excursion. He could not really escape the patterns laid before him and, although admittedly he was tempted, in later life he would be glad he had stayed on his ordained course. Son, like father, would attend Yale University. He needed to return to Lake Forest in time to brush up on his Greek and Latin, so he could pass the college's entrance exam. He kept pushing back the time of his return as far as he could. Early April became mid-May in his plans. " . . . I would just as soon stay until Annie gets home . . . about the first of July. That would give me from six to eight weeks to study, according to whether I got home on the first or middle of May. . . . 1 never appreciated my father and mother as I do now" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr. March 2, 1902). The appreciation was sincere, but comparing Greek and Latin to riding the range was to compare dreary duty with youthful freedom. At the Shoenail, one aspect of range riding revolved around water. In the winter, Jhe ice had to be broken. In the early spring, a fascinating aspect of ranch life appeared with the hatching of the heel fly. During the first warm days, these flies would attack the cattle with such fury that the animals would rush into the nearest pond or bog for relief. But they tended to be so weak after the winter that they would get stuck in the mire and eventually die if they were not dragged out. Jim and his friends would ride the bogs looking for animals in such a state. The cowboys tied ropes from the pommels of their saddles to the cows and pulled for all their horses were worth. If they succeeded, they had to quickly release the rope from the cow—the cattle were so wild and mean that as soon as they returned to solid ground, they would as often as not turn and charge the cowboys. The animals that had died in the bogs were skinned on the spot. Jim reported, "Friday morning we rode the bogs and in the afternoon we tried to pull a cow out of the creek and finally had to skin her in the creek. My horse broke loose from her ten times, breaking the rope five times. We then found another cow bogged down but she went off all right" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr. April 13, 1902). His daughter remembers that he had one mean bronco whose buck had a twist that made it difficult to stay on. He decided to take this horse to bog camp with him so that he could ride it where the other hands wouldn't see him get thrown. Only his friend Enoch would be with him. The first time the horse threw him he landed in a briar bush, the second time he just missed the camp fire and the third time as he lay on the ground he saw the horse coming down at him to stomp him, which few horses will ever do. Jim drew back his fist and punched �Texas 43 the wild one in the nose and the horse whirled away. The horse's fate is not known.2 The time was drawing near that Jim would have to go back to his preordained life, and he had not ridden a roundup. He learned that on the XIT Ranch this event was held early. He could take part and still get back in time to study for his Yale exams. On April 14, Jim left the Shoenail Ranch for the XIT. It was a sad parting, for the men and animals of that ranch had taken him a good distance towards manhood. Emery, Enoch, Oscar, Bob Short and many more would become part of the repertoire of adventure stories with which he would later entertain his friends and children. One he loved to tell was how the hands were loafing around in front of the fire one day, so bored they could barely keep their eyes open. A lively cowpoke thought he would have some fun, and grabbed a handful of bullets and tossed them into the fire. Grown men never left the prone position any faster. A roundup on the XIT was an enormous undertaking. Yearlings were branded and made ready for the trip to Montana, where they would graze all summer and then be slaughtered for the Chicago meat markets. The ranch was the largest in the United States, approximately three million acres. Jim used Harriet's camera to record pictures of the men and their activities out on the prairie. Pictures survive of the men sitting around the chuck wagon eating breakfast; the men saddling up; Lee Landers on his horse Black Snake; Boss Moore and Old Joe. Jim loved to talk about how a man had to check his bed roll carefully before crawling out in the morning. It got cold at night and rattlesnakes often crawled in beside or under the sleeper for warmth. Each cowpoke had a string of five or six horses, so that he could ride a fresh horse daily. When a large number of cattle had been gathered together to drive towards the rail head there was always the danger of a stampede. Several men rode around the herd all night keeping watch; for any strange sound, a roll of thunder or a sudden coyote howl, might start the herd running out of control. Jim McClure understood the essential loneliness of the cowboy's life. His daughter remembers: He told me what a lonely life the men led, and that so many he met were always talking about how they would go back home and settle down when they were paid off in the fall. But in the spring most of them would show up again. It was the only life they knew. There was an old cowboy along on mat XIT roundup who would sing at night before they went to sleep, "I ride an old Paint I lead an old Dan I'm goin' to Montana just to throw the hoolyan*."3 The song Jim remembered best was the "Cowboy's Prayer." He used to sing it for his daughter when he drove her to school. It went like this: *A 'hoolyan' is a lariat or rope. �44 We Plow God's Fields "Chuck Wagon," picture taken by James G.K. McClure, Jr., in Texas. Last night as I lay on the prairie And looked at the stars in the sky I wondered if ever a cowboy Would get to that sweet bye and bye. I wondered then if I'd meet her That mother whom God took away And if in that bright land I'd greet her Upon the last judgement day. They say there will be a great roundup When the cowboys like dogies will stand To be cut by the riders of judgement Who are posted and know every brand. They say there's another great owner Who's ne'er overstocked, that day, He always makes room for another Upon the last Judgement Day. The trail that leads to those bright regions Is narrow and dim, so they say, But the road that leads down to perdition Is broad and blazed all the way. �Texas 45 In the East the grey dawn is breaking Heaven's thought from me take wing The cattle from sleep are awaking And into my saddle I spring.4 One can imagine the boy lying in his bedroll under the Texas stars listening to the old man sing. His daughter surmises: His experience in Texas certainly meant a lot to him and he did love to think about it all those many years later. I loved to hear about it, as he had taught me to ride and even though he often scared me because he rode fast and hard, I loved it. I tried hard not to show my fear because he was the kind of person you were desperately anxious to please. I think it was while working on these ranches that my father first really got to know men who worked on the land for what they had. I think it stayed with him all his Me. He probably saw some of the same admirable qualities of independence and humor and ability to bear up under the hardships of life here in the North Carolina mountains.5 Texas also gave Jim tremendous confidence. He had earned the respect of men who lived an earthy, basic way of life. This life always afterward appealed to Jim. He did not throw away the cultural graces of his upbringing, but neither was he a prisoner to them. He learned to appreciate those segments of society that lacked the refinement of Victorian manners. He always loved the daring courage of the moment: challenge made him come alive. His friends in Texas were for the most part straightforward and unpretentious, and for those very traits they gained the admiration of young Jim McClure. And I'm sure Enoch, Emery and George never forgot him either. He received a few letters later from the more literate of his friends. I imagine you had quite a tune hunting and fishing last summer! Wish I could have been with you. But instead of that I was down here punching cows to beat thunder.... I traded off one of your main cowhorses the other day, "Old Splity." . . . Well next year during vacation come down and spend a month or two with u s . . . . I am still in the race for County Judge with fair prospects to win out. Will send you my card.... (J.E. Moore to James G. K. McClure, Jr. October 8, 1902) Another letter came from Oscar Ledbetter, the windmill man on the Shoenail Ranch. Jim always remembered a day when Oscar, driving a wagon and team of four mules, was persuaded to join the boys as they galloped by on a coyote hunt. Mules and wagon were flying over the prairie when they came to a hidden draw, a deep cut made by a small stream. The mules really flew, landing safe on the other side, leaving Oscar and the wagon in a tangle of broken traces and cuss words, but miraculously uninjured. Oscar wrote: �46 We Plow God's Fields The barbecue was a howling success. . . . The boys had a good time. Old Mary Ann took it all out to Coxey's race mare. Old Will is all right, he is in gopher flat pasture getting fat. ... Jim what about that fish story? It sounds— well-er like—just let it go. Jim I wish you could arrange to come down this winter as hunting is going to be fine. We have nine brand new dogs, that makes us nineteen so you see I will deal the coyotes misery this winter. Wishing you a bushel of pleasure. (Oscar Ledbetter to James G. K. McClure, Jr. August 23, 1903) The course of Jim's life was scheduled to pass through Yale, and despite the pleasures of Texas, that plan remained unaltered. So he returned to Lake Forest in the late spring, by railroad and not as a gypsy, to review Virgil and Xenophon. That summer he attended the annual "Lake Forest Open-Air Horse Show." Serious riding there was English style. He must have thoroughly enjoyed leaning up against the ring and telling his stories about riding out West while the McCormicks and Swifts and Farwells pranced about winning ribbons. He did pass his entrance test to Yale, and by the fall of 1902 he had exchanged his Stetson and chaps for a bowler and cane. 1. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 2. 3. 4. 5. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. �Chapter Four Yale You must think my chief pals when I was in college were sweeps and old clothes men—I suppose my name would sound unfamiliar to every professor in the place. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, Fall 1909) I once knew an old professor, who woke up one morning with ill health. By mistake, his wife brought in a barometer instead of a thermometer. When she pulled it out of his mouth, it registered "dry and windy." (A joke Jim McClure used to tell when speaking.) Yale University at the turn of the century catered to young men of wealth and social standing. New money and old money were represented, but all had money nonetheless. The only notable exception were the sons of clergymen. Yale reflected the chasm between the social classes that had been yawning wider over the decades since the Civil War. It was one of the precipices from which the monied class overlooked the working class at a greater and greater distance. Shortly after the anthracite coal miners of Pennsylvania went back to work after one of the country's most devastating strikes, the university served to Jim and his classmates the following Thanksgiving dinner: "Grape Fruit Round Cut with Sherry, Blue Points on Half Shell, Salmon with Tartar Sauce, and Filet of Beef with Mushrooms, Turkey, Cranberry Sauce .. ."* In 1902, a dynamic young American, Theodore Roosevelt, succeeded to the presidency after the assassination of William McKinley. Roosevelt began to push his plan for the Square Deal (the first of many "Deads" in this century), which in essence was an attempt to arbitrate fairly between the competing elements of labor and capital. In February of 1902, while Jim was still hunting coyotes and breaking broncos, Roosevelt told his attorney general to bring suit against the Northern Securities Company for violating the Sherman Antitrust Act. It was a dramatic break with the past, and signaled a new epoch in American politics now remembered as the Progressive Era. The following May, when Jim was getting accustomed to Yale, the coal workers went out on strike, creating the largest work stoppage in the history of the country. For decades, labor unrest had threatened the United States as the social changes wrought by industrialization created pressures that upset the agrarian status quo of an earlier and simpler America. In every labor dispute to date, the federal government (if it became involved at all) put its weight directly behind the business interests. But in a precedent-smashing decision, Roosevelt 47 �48 We Plow God's Fields called both sides in the coal dispute to come to Washington. He had become convinced that the mine operators were prolonging the strike and threatening the national welfare (coal was the principal source of energy and heat in this era). To further urge the owners along, he threatened to confiscate the mines and operate them with federal troops if they refused arbitration. By October the mines were reopened and the worst abuses had been rectified. Despite his Dixon heritage, in 1903 Jim's political consciousness remained shallow. Roosevelt's Progressive Era would stamp a deep impression on him, educating him more thoroughly than the Yale Greek and Latin departments. He remained throughout his life a loyal Republican, even after moving to the Democratic South. But his Republicanism was in the style of Teddy Roosevelt: progressive, forward looking and full of energy. This Republican was no businessman's flunky, but a Progressive whose loyalties were with the downtrodden of America. Jim's father was deeply loyal to his alma mater, and was quite sure that his years spent at Yale had helped to develop his strength of character and breadth of vision. He eventually sent all three of his sons to Yale, and returned yearly himself to celebrate the reunion rites with his friends of the class of 1870. There were still McClures in and around Albany, particularly Jim's Aunt Grace; and there were the Dixons in nearby Westerly, Rhode Island. Yale would be a homecoming for his sons. But during his first weeks at Yale Jim was very uncomfortable. He did not feel at home with these elegant young men from Exeter and Andover and the other prep schools. Like Yale and Harvard, these schools had been founded originally to educate the clergy, but now their main patrons were well-to-do industrialists and professional men. In later years he told his daughter laughingly that he felt totally out of place that first fall at college. Texas certainly hadn't lost its lure for Jim, and at least twice he was tempted to go back, liie first offer came through a friend named Charles K. King, who wrote: . . . I have a letter from the owner of the C Ranch down in New Mexico where I learned the business, you know, and he wants me to send him a young fellow to learn the business and his ways and eventually take charge of his business and as he has a fine place and lots of cattle it is certainly a fine opening for any young man who would like the life . . . Please write and let me know what you think about it, Jim. Do not decide in a hurry, for he will wait if I ask him to ... I believe it will mean a fortune in the years to come and it would take me just long enough to get there to accept it if I were foot loose . . . I write to you and thought of you simple because I like you most sincerely and because I believe you are just the sort of man he wants, honest, straightforward, true and obliging. I am not jollying you now, Jim, but merely enumerating the qualities I am positive you possess that will please him.... (Charles F. King to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 14, 1902) �Yale 49 Then came a letter from another Texas friend, an "old nester." This was the Texan term for a comparatively small landholder, nestled in among the big ranches. The old fellow had taken a fancy to Jim, and had already asked him to come to live with him. Now he wrote that if Chicago Jim would come to help him run his place he would deed him half his land and cattle, and make the rest over to him in his will. Jim thought it over, but briefly, and wrote his father he was going to accept the offer and leave Yale for Texas, the place where a man's work made the difference and the people were not so layered with civilization. Dr. McClure did not write and he did not telegraph. He boarded the Twentieth Century Limited at once and appeared unannounced in Jim's room. The impulse for Texas was thwarted.2 In time, Jim realized the wisdom of his father in this matter. His years at Yale, while not marked by academic achievement, included contact with a critical mix of people and intellectual influences that bore great fruit later in his life. Yet, it must be said that his dream of a practical life, with cattle and chickens and earthy farmhands, remained part of the young man's makeup. His life would have to make room for that vision, too. Jim speedily adjusted to the social mores of his classmates. As it had for his father, Yale meant a time to build character and make friends. The uneasiness of his first term soon disappeared, and more than any other aspect of his college career it was the solid coterie of loyal and devoted friends he made that helped him tremendously then and all through his life. Like his father before him, he took much more of an interest in the social and religious aspects of college than in academics. One acceptable scheme of attending Yale in 1902 was to get by with the daily recitations in order to take advantage of the myriad activities that swirled around the college. He constantly received notes from the Dean's office concerning academic problems, quite drastic ones in some cases, but they seem to have had little effect on the goings and comings of his daily life. Jim was met on his arrival at New Haven by Mr. Franklin Dexter, one of his father's dearest friends. He wrote his sister Annie that he could see "Mr. Dexter's head and shoulders over the crowd at the train...." He stayed a few days with the Dexters while purchasing furniture for his room, "... a Bed, Mattress springs, bureau, washstand, Toilet Set, desk, desk chair and cane chair for $50.22 ..." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Annie McClure, September 24, 1902). Later on his father would become concerned about his son's ease with money, but he apparently made a thrifty beginning. Yale was a large, disorienting place. After a month, a little homesick thread creeps into a letter to his family. I can never thank you enough for these eighteen lovely years. Since coming here I have felt the meaning of life more than ever before. In the Dwight Hall [religious] meetings there have been some of the finest things said that I have ever heard. I hope that you will always remember that although I am a long ways off �50 We Plow God's Fields yet I love you more than ever and I do wish that you could be here or better still I be at home for a little while. Christmas will be here soon, however, only eight weeks from tomorrow. As I write I suppose that you are both at Prayer Meeting and that Annie is playing the piano. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, October 28, 1902) Jim learned to love Yale, and threw himself into diverse aspects of the life there. Most important of all for him was religion. He joined the YMCA, and faithfully attended his class prayer meetings on Sunday after chapel. He told his family that the Dwight Hall meetings of the Yale University Christian Association meant a lot. He was placed on the Freshman Religious Committee. At a meeting of the Freshman Union, Jim debated the affirmative side in the question, "Resolved, that Latin and Greek should not be required studies in college." Despite the strident pragmatism exhibited by Jim in this debate, the ancient texts still had to be faced daily, Monday through Saturday, by Freshman McClure.3 Religious life and daily life at Yale were completely intertwined. The current president, Arthur Hadley, was a political economist and the first president of the university who was not a clergyman. Among the class of people who attended Yale, Christianity in one form or another was an expected part of one's intellectual wardrobe. Academic regulations for the school included the following: for chapel, "students are required to occupy the seats assigned by the ushers at morning prayers each weekday, and at the Sunday morning service... ."4 The idea implicit in these rules is that one of the principal responsibilities of the college is to inculcate the habits of religion in the student body, and that in this pursuit it had the approval of the wider culture the college represented. In the name of student free choice, discomfort with religious coercion, and certainly as the result of a more diversified student body, such rules have disappeared on nearly all American college campuses today. Even back in his college days though, Jim McClure felt a growing suspicion of a religion that was "expected" and class bound. It should be, he thought, alive with ideas and truths that helped real people in need regardless of their station in life, and that energized souls with the immense spiritual power available to them. Protestant Christianity had reached a zenith of sorts in 1902. It was a distinguishing mark of Northern European and American culture, and world wide there were few who doubted the power and influence of these Protestant countries. At Yale, Jim breathed the air of this cultural confidence, and it was an obvious source of his optimism. And yet he began to catch an occasional musty whiff that all was not so well after all. If the seeds of Jim's eventual revolt against the status quo were in the ground in 1902, they showed precious little evidence of germination. He was actually much more interested in football—Yale football at this time was national news. He became an avid fan of Yale sports in general, and his scrapbook is packed with tickets stubs and sports articles. He was on his freshman football �Yale 51 team, but by the looks of the picture, everyone who went out made the club. There is no evidence that he ever played in a game, but he remained a touchfootball enthusiast ever after. Another freshman delight for him was sneaking into the junior prom: Monday night was the Prom Concert. Of course there was a terrible crowd of freshman striving to get in to their gallery. Everyone going in was searched but nevertheless lots of things were brought in. Thousands of these paper streamers were thrown, lots of confetti and lots of cards. We took balls of string and let down notes to the girls and they sent up flowers and notes and all sorts of things. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, February 4, 1903) He collected many of the cards he mentions and pasted them into his scrapbook. One, with a slight political ring, went: Of the Prom Girls he thought he's a trust But the Freshman class on high Caught the pretty girl's eye And behold, all the fuss trust was bust.5 Since the college athletic teams were beyond his abilities, Jim made a habit of working out on the college track and helped to organize informal football and baseball games among friends. To better focus his body-building efforts, he submitted to a physical examination provided by the college. In nearly every way his body was approved by the physician, except for one glaring defect: a flat thorax! Remedies were referenced for him in a booklet, and whether or not he succeeded in adding some bulge to this area of his anatomy is a question left to other historians. He did help to organize a spring baseball game between his own Pierson Hall and White Hall. He wrote home, "Everyone has to be as poor a player as possible. . . . At present I am going to catch for the Pierson team" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, March 26, 1903). We will leave the gymnasium segment of Jim's Yale career with the admonition he received on the local regulations: "Attention is called to the following rules regarding lockers: Offensively soiled clothing must not be stored in the locker. The director will remove such clothing without notice."6 Academically, he averaged 2.50 his first term at Yale, an adequate but unimpressive score. In the spring, he developed a passion for the German language and at the same time made a friend of Joe Twichell, a devoted companion from that time on. He and Joe worked over the German together and made the effort to attend German language plays on campus. As a nation, Germany always fascinated Jim, so much so that he eventually studied at three German universities. It was a nation that was to thrust itself on his generation like no other. But despite this spark of interest, he wrote home that his second term scores would be worse if anything: "My dear Harriet: As to your questions I �52 We Plow God's Fields will reply as follows: 1st studies Very Poor, can't do very well this term. Started out poorly. Have been very busy with outside work. May get 2.35 if lucky." And to the eternal question, he replies: "Common food fair. Not starving." And as if to substantiate this fact, he adds, "Weight 149 Ibs. last Friday" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure, May 13, 1902). Just how busy with outside work has he been? Monday afternoon I went out to the golf course and fooled around a little. In the evening I went out to Lake Whitney about ten o'clock with Joe Twichell. The moon was out and full and we got a canoe and paddled around. It was simply great. We are going out again tonight. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure, May 13, 1903) Monday six of us started out sailing about eight-thirty . . . We had a great time. We sailed down to the Thimble Islands where we got lunch and then started out again. The wind died down at half past two and we were becalmed until six. At six a strong wind sprang up and we arrived in port at eight o'clock. I had one of the best times I have ever had. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, June 3, 1903) Good times evaporate into memory, but somehow those ancient tongues that bedeviled Jim so much forever loomed before him: "Thursday we had our Latin Examination. I think that I got through it all right" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, June 7, 1903). As our hero completes his freshman year, we see him as a fanatic sports fan, an endearing friend, a survivor of the ancient languages, and now out for the summer. Along with obvious enjoyment of the entertainments at Yale, religion does appear to have been his central focus. Like his father he became a leader in his class in this sphere of college life. Before returning to Lake Forest, he attended the Northfield Conference. This was a prestigious annual gathering of student religious leaders from schools and colleges all over the Northeast. Bible classes, missionary projects, "Life Work meetings," and platform discussions all helped to bring out current topics of interest in the Christian community. There were also tennis courts, a river to swim in, and new friends to make. And even at a religious conference there were the inevitable pranks. Once the boys laid a trap for an irascible professor. They papered the walls of the hallway with flypaper, then shouted "Fire," and ran. Jim found himself charged up by this conference, and returned each year he was at Yale except his last, when a scheduling conflict prompted him and some others to organize a parallel gathering at a different time for those who could not attend Northfield.7 Jim McClure exercised his social conscience by helping with a local Boys' Club in New Haven that had just opened its doors. Teaching Sunday School there, he appears to have begun to try to break through the class barriers that separated him from so many Americans. One of his young charges wrote to him this touching but misspelled letter over the summer: �Yale 53 My dear James: I received your letter Wensday . . . well Jemmie it is awful lonesome sence you went away all I do is to sit in my room and smoke my pipe and listen to the Katie did and katie didn't . . . be sure and write me long letters as I will be anxious to here from you. Your Friend Patrick Cody. (Patrick Cody to James G. K. McClure, Jr., June 31, 1903) The Edwin Foote Boys' Club, with Jim's help, met with phenomenal success its first year. By December of 1903, a news article stated that it was "only ten months old and yet over 800 different boys have joined.... These working boys have contributed over two hundred dollars to meet the expenses of the club."8 Between the Northfield Conference and his last exam, Jim met his mother at Westerly, Rhode Island. For three generations the Dixons went to Washington to rule the nation, and naturally the habits of politics ran deeply in the family. A good portion of Jim's education took place around the dinner table in Westerly, where the great issues of the day were common talk, and where the talk itself was on the highest level. Pictures of the Dixon home give the impression of confident elegance. The position of the family was so well established in the community that any brash or pretentious additions would have been superfluous. A large, white clapboard structure enclosed an interior filled with a vast array of Victorian jumble. No corner was left unadorned, and no shelf or mantle left unladen with knick-knacks and objects of interest. Jim had visited Westerly during the summers of his youth, and rather enjoyed a household oriented more toward pleasure than toward the Presbyterian Church. Trotting horses and a servant known as "Old Harry" were of special interest to Jim. The horses were an extravagant hobby of the Dixons. Old Harry was a black servant who resembled the faithful Southern house slave more than anything else. He and Jim were devoted Mends, in the manner of an old man serving the family of the young man. One time, Jim and Harry decided to leave early to see the trotting races, and Jim wanted to be sure he woke up in time to get out of the house without waking anyone else up. He told Harry that there would be a string dangling down from his window, and early in the morning he was to yank it. Tying it to his toe, he dangled it out the window and went to bed. Early the next morning, Harry began to pull, and yank, and tug—and never let up. Jim was almost dragged from his bed, but managed to gain his balance in time to save his toe and to notify Harry that his efforts had been quite successful.9 Later in the summer of 1903, Jim enjoyed the pleasures of a resort in Oconto, Wisconsin. Several of his Yale friends were there, along with two lively young ladies, Helen and Martha. On the train back to Chicago, the two girls wrote Jim a crazy letter that appears to have been written by both girls at the same time, each alternating a sentence. The mood of the gathering can best be described by this correspondence: "At Oconto we needed a chaperon . . . I �r',4m ,•' 'Ajj^^mmi^ , "" " §r. . . ". . .i i» I 'I I :i ><'.j^. �Yale 55 was kept busy holding Martha from tackling the men who were making eyes at Helen. Martha is holding me, or the above would be erased . . . Helen's tears have soaked three handkerchiefs and has now begun on mine . . . Please try and think of us as being very grateful for having the best of good times ..." (Helen ? and Martha ? to James G. K. McClure, Jr., August 13, 1903). Two weeks before, Jim and his family helped to organize a picnic from the Lake Forest Sunday School that really does sound like fun. The usual games of the day, including sack races, lemon hunts, nail driving contests (for girls only!) and three-legged races, were successfully worked through, all culminating in a big baseball game. Dr. McClure played his old position of third base, while Jim pitched for the opposition. Jim's nine was reduced to eight almost immediately when Mr. Durand became "tired out in [the] first." In the fourth, Dr. McClure was injured, surely costing his team the game as Jim's pitching maintained the 4-3 win.10 Jim had a naturally cheerful disposition, and there were few discordant notes to mar his college summers with family and friends. Back at Yale in the fall, Jim proudly reported home that he had been elected class deacon, a position of great respect. "My dear boy:" his father wrote, I do not believe any word from Yale could have brought me more joy than the word of your election as a class deacon . . . As I look back on my own days in College it seems to me nothing tended to steady me and make me careful of my example and influences more than my sense of responsibility as a class deacon. I think the fellows look for a high type of life in their deacons, and however much they may joke about them, the fellows wish their deacons to be men whom they thoroughly respect. While preserving an attractive demeanor it is better for the deacons to err on the side of consistency rather than on the side of inconsistency. (James G. K. McClure, Sr., to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 26, 1903) Respect, though a cruder version, was also part of Deacon McClure's initiation into the Junior Society Psi Upsilon Beta. As described by the college press corps, the story ran: Junior Society Fun: How the Neophytes are Made to Recognize Their Humble Station . . ."Fagging" services are required of the candidates. This is a late revival of an ancient custom. Each man has a master to whom he is appointed for a certain period between his pledging and his initiation . . . He must wake him at a stated hour, prepare his bath, bring each morning a fresh boutonniere, his mail and his breakfast, if need be. He must walk behind his master in the rounds of the Campus, keeping a respectful four paces in the rear. There are other things the candidate for election must do. He may have, Opposite, top: DixonHome, Westerly, R.I. Opposite, bottom: Old Harry �56 We Plow God's Fields perhaps, literary aspirations. In that case he may be asked to deliver an oration to the moon and in the highest flights of imagination he is interrupted with deprecatory remarks reflecting on his ability on all points, his truth and sanity. Passersby are frequently in doubt about the latter and have been known to take another street to avoid what seemed to them a real madman. Another trial for a literary candidate is to have him embrace a tree or post and murmur words of deep affection, while instructions such as these are shot at him from his tormentors. "Louder," "Take off that smile and stick it on the tree," . . . Soon the unfortunate man is shouting endearments to his wooden friend.11 Skits and short plays were a specialty of these "literary" societies, and during initiation week impromptu productions could be seen all over the campus. Jim saved for posterity a collection of instructions such as "Candidate McClure will be at 172 Farnum Hall at 8:40 3/4 p.m Do not reveal these instructions."12 In the end, tormentors and tormented alike gathered for an initiation banquet that was held in the Hall of Beta, amidst Broiled Squab, Filet of Beef, Bisque Tortini and Cigars. Officially, the miserable life of the "fag" was over, and following dinner he was royally entertained by the older club members in dramatic productions such as Beatrice, the Bovine (A Bucolic, The Milky Way, In Two Tits and a Tatter). Jim was mentioned in the elaborate program as part of an "Entirely New Troup, Imported at Great Expense" that will next season present Three Little Jades.13 But if the absurd was given its hour upon the stage, most of the weeks and months were given to Latin and Greek. But Jim began to veer away from the slavery of the ancient texts, and to search out in academic nooks and crannies more up-to-date and scientific studies. Science, and its remarkable success as a method of discerning the workings of the world, had already drawn Jim very closely into its orbit. Much of his optimism about the future of the human condition, which was a distinguishing characteristic of his thinking, emanated from a strong faith in the ability of science to solve once and for all the problems that created strife among mankind. Increasingly, Jim took courses in the social science department. Economics, the American Social Condition and Nineteenth Century Communities were all subjects a young progressive would find vital. He had a faith that the social scientists were on the brink of discovering how to "inoculate" society in order to eliminate human poverty. If the riddle of smallpox could be unraveled, why not the disease of hopelessness? Slowly through time, Jim reconciled his faith in science and his faith in Christianity. He became a practitioner of the Social Gospel, a movement led by Walter Rauschenbusch, who preached the Holy Word as a means to bring about the salvation of society. In Rauschenbusch's vision, the minister was comparable to the medical doctor in his battle against physical ailments, except that the minister's goal was a healthy community. Public health, education, settlement houses, the fight to clean up crooked politics, YMCA's, and Boys' Clubs all became legitimate realms for the minister. At Yale, these ideas were �Yale 57 still in their germination stage for Jim. His struggle with these two faiths is a fascinating dynamic that is the proper subject of his seminary years, yet it should be noted that as far back as his college days he was searching for a scientific base in the social science departments for his spiritual prompting. As a part of the Yale religious community, he was given opportunities to speak before a variety of gatherings. "COMING: TWO YALE STUDENTS! Messrs. Banks and McClure . . . To address Young Men of New Britain, at YMCA Hall . . . General subject 'Standards and Tests.' A unique meeting for men only."14 "Young Peoples Meeting, in observance of the Day of Prayer for Students. Address by James G. K. McClure, Jr. and Joseph H. Twichell of Yale College... ,"15 One of his speeches remains from this period of his life, and in it can be discerned an immature expression of the ideals he pursued throughout his life. Before the Yale YMCA he proposed: To show that men can live and do live at college a Christian life. To show that it is the only way to live here at school . . . We will only live once and now is the time to live an upright Christian life . .. Mr. X was living a careless, thoughtless life. Mr. Y had a purpose, a great desire to better mankind, he was filled with love .. . [U]nless we lead a Christian life, we will fail in the hour of trial. So let us be men, face the questions squarely, not be afraid of the man in the looking glass [remember him?] and live up to our best ideals. Let us strive to be like Christ-to love as he did ... But what shall our ideals be? That is a question that puzzles man but it should not—Let's go back to first principles. Our ideals should be Christ. Now Christ is love. Therefore our ideals should be perfect love . . . We will take for instance the matter of drinking and see how this perfect love ideal would answer such a question. I want to drink and I say, can I drink in perfect love to my fellow man? If I drink a little will I cause another, a friend to stumble and fall? Is there danger of my drinking causing suffering anywhere? Reasonably I can't drink with the ideal of perfect love.16 On this final point, he joined up with a long line of his McClure forebears, and refused throughout his life to yield to the temptations of strong drink. Jim McClure was never a mean-spirited fanatic, however. Like his father, he took a strong stand against alcohol but did not condemn or embarrass friends who used alcohol in moderation. He always enjoyed a party and the Helens and the Marthas adored him. He escorted Joe TwichelFs sister Louise to his own class's Junior Prom. His dance card was full, forty-one dances in a row, alternating between the two-step and the waltz. During his summer at home, he had struck up a strong friendship with one of the several Elizabeths in his life. She was a spicy girl, and addressed a letter after the summer was over to "Simple Life McClure," an obvious jibe at the discussions the two of them had had about their personal aspirations. When you read this you will be rolling swiftly away from-shall I say "Home and Mother?" Don't forget "the girl you left behind you" nor how to make the �58 We Plow God's Fields happy moments fly when we are together. It's an art any girl will appreciate and one which you have to almost as great degree as Louis [Douseman, Jim's friend and Yale classmate.] Perhaps if you see a great deal of him this winter you will catch on to his methods .. . Don't do anything rash in the Helen Boyce line or the Louise Twichell region or the Nellie Lake direction until I reach the East so that I can bait fairly . . . for you . . . Also don't pick up any stray chickens but turn up in New York to greet me with some real sensible hen, a nice, old one . . . I will announce my arrival in New York in some way or other and then I shall expect an immediate and insistent descent and that right early too. I hope you have a pleasant journey, a corking trip (I am so glad there is no girl there to read aloud, drive and fish-with you), a wonderful year and that you won't forget me or that I love you in the same old way. I am yours sincerely, Elizabeth manager general. To heighten the mystery, she scrawls in the note. "I hope you can read between the lines as there is more to this than I dare say" (Elizabeth Waller to James G. K. McClure, Jr., no date). Jim's remaining college years contained more of the patterns he had already established. He flourished in the Beta Club gag shows. His soft-looking face made him a natural for those dramatic parts hardest to manage at Yale in those days, the female ones. He pranced about on stage as "Sidewalk Sadie—The Swash of the Sewer," and in a photograph of the Beta Club members, he is found with some difficulty perched on the lap of a fellow member (next to another dressed as a gorilla), as pretty a belle as fashions of the period allowed.17 (These fashions, quite cumbersome by modern standards, did a superb job of losing a male physique inside numerous folds and ruffles.) Glee club concerts, baseball games, summer trips to the lakes of Wisconsin and the Spring Regatta were only part of his normal round of activities. Jim was sent as a member of the Yale religious community on a tour of boarding schools, in order to "Inform the boys about all phases of college life" and to "Attract them to the Christian life." He was given strict written instructions that included these admonitions: "Give a talk describing Yale life. Emphasize the opportunities...Get together informally the boys who are coming to Yale and let them ask questions . . . This isn't a fussing tour . . . so don't spend too much time in the company of the principal's daughter or anybody else's daughters. You're after the boys and ought to spend the time with them."18 On one such trip in 1905, he went to Washington, D. C. to see the inauguration of Theodore Roosevelt and then the next day spoke to the Quaker students of Haverford College. His theme was " . . . to show [that] manly men can live [a] Christian life": I want to talk to you today . .. about the tests in our lives and the way to come out of them triumphant. Life is a series of tests. . . . I want to tell you of two men who were in [the Iroquois Theatre fire in Chicago] . .. One was a man of some sixty years. He escaped. A friend saw �Yale 59 him the next day and congratulated him but he wanted no congratulations, he was absolutely ashamed of himself, had lost all his self-esteem. He thought that in his sixty years he had built up within himself a respect for women and helpless children that would have kept him from trampling down and pushing back helpless ones, as he must have done to escape. There was no more pleasure in life for that man . . . There was another man at the fire who saw an exit which had two stairs leading up to i t . . . He stationed himself beside it and handed out woman after woman, child after child. The fireman outside could see him helping them out, his clothes and hair aflame. Then he fell and somehow . . . he was gotten o u t . . . Think of the difference in the way these two men met their tests.19 Does Jim's speech sound simplistic? Do his examples of heroism smack of a morality melodrama, a Victorian tear jerker? Remember first of all that Jim is a college student, young and with a relatively limited experience. But more to the point, the sophistication of our own times has become a smoke screen. The smoke distorts moral questions by exposing their complexity without even asking, but what is right? This is a tendency to consider heroism pass6, and mixed motives are assumed to be behind the purest of good deeds. Self-denial is perceived as limiting personal freedom, or worse, a repression that may cause, when one least expects it, an ugly psychological reaction. To pass off Jim's thoughts as naive, not the stuff of reality, is to deny the heroic possibilities of mankind. Sophistication is too often synonymous with cynicism. Jim spent his life searching for corruption; he wore no rose-colored glasses. Wrongdoers were meted out swift punishment when it was in his power to do so. And yet, he maintained his dream that, given encouragement and right understanding, and given the possibilities of the human will, everyone could raise himself or herself above the sinful state of the world. If Jim thought life was a series of tests, he knew that college was. Daily recitation followed, in theory, daily preparation. For our hero, such a rule remained all too often in the realm of theory. He saved and carefully pasted into his scrapbook a collection of incriminating cards that circulated regularly from the Dean's office to Jim's mailbox. "Your work for the first term of Junior year was not satisfactory in Archeology, Rhetoric, English, Physics. Your attention is called to the rule, in accordance with which a student cannot be enrolled in the Senior class until he has satisfactorily completed 41 hours of class-room work."20 "Your allowance of absences for the term was exhausted on Feb. 28. Since then you have been reported absent as follows: Soc. Sci., Feb. 28, Soc. Sci, Mar. 1, English Mar. 12, Soc. Sci March 12 ... [the list goes on]. Over cuts involve failures. If you know any reason why the penalty should not apply to the above, please explain it promptly."21 There seemed to be little selfdiscipline in Jim's own pursuit of knowledge at Yale, and how he came out unscathed is not known. Horace Ferry, his freshman roommate and close friend from Lake Forest, telegraphed this mysterious message to Jim's father: "Jim tapped for Bones ��Yale 61 DEAN'S OFFICE, Yale College. January, / C Your work for the first term of Junior year was not satisfactory ....^..^^..^^^^^'^/.^..^.^L Your attention is called to the rule, in accordance with which a student cannot be enrolled in the Senior class until he has satisfactorily completed J^l hours of class-room work. Truly yours, ..... -WILLIAM: ^ILTOJST HESS. Dean's office card. Congratulations."22 Skull and Bones is the most prestigious of Yale University's secret societies. Rituals, codes, special handshakes and oaths are unfailingly honored by its members. Each initiate swears devotion to members past and present, one of whom was Jim's father. Exactly who belongs to Skull and Bones is held in strict confidence. The club meets in an eerie building in New Haven with no windows. There were fifteen members of "Bones" in the class of 1906. Jim considered his election to Skull and Bones one of the greatest honors of his Yale years. He wrote in his diary, "Who would have ever thought I would have been included among Yale's strongest men."23 Many of Jim's classmates maintained an exciting and expensive social life. Jim did his best to keep up, and thoroughly enjoyed the round of weekend house parties to which he was invited. If he missed a lot of classes, he also spent a lot of money, and on this last point he touched one of his father's very few sore points. My dear son: I hope your Norwich trip was happy and profitable, and I hope your boils are gone . . . I . . . enclose a New York draft for $150.00.1 am unable to send you more at this time. It is only by being as careful as I can be, of every little expense in the way of a car fare or an extra paper, that I have been able to provide for my children as I have. This draft makes the amount I have handed you since Sept. 1, 1905 [7 months] $1163.50. Beta Club Photograph. Jim McClure can be found on the bottom right, sitting on a young man's lap between the gorilla and the policeman. �62 We Plow God's Fields . . . Unless you have pledged yourself to go to George Miller's this summer, I suggest you do not go. It really seems to me that it would be better for the fellows themselves if they called a halt to this running around. It is not fair to you—for it tends to .develop thoughtlessness that may be akin to selfishness. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 23, 1906) But it must be admitted that one trip would have had the approval of his father. Jim was in charge of organizing all Yale men interested in going into the ministry, and taking them to Hartford for a conference whose purpose was "To present to those college men who are now deciding upon their life work, definite and reliable information concerning the opportunities and work of the Christian Ministry in this country."24 Horace Ferry and Joe Twichell both went along. Among the many speakers was the President of Princeton University, Woodrow Wilson. Jim's father was a personal friend of Wilson's, and on at least one occasion stayed in his home. Ironically, three weeks later, Jim brushed with another future presidential candidate, the man who opposed Wilson in 1912. Helen Hadley, the Yale President's wife, asked Jim "to be one of our ushers" when Secretary of War William Howard Taft arrived to give a series of lectures on campus.25 Before going to Hartford, Jim had decided to enter the ministry. It was a natural decision arising out of his interests at Yale, his respect for his father, and the McClure's Covenanter heritage. Jim's father, after reading his letter of decision, mailed back a carefully composed message touching on thoughts that were very much on his son's mind. First, I believe you can do and will do fine service in the ministry if you give yourself to it. Men like you are eminently needed—never more needed than now. The very fact of your going into the ministry will do good. It will encourage men like myself: it will point the way to oncoming boys and college fellows to do as you have done. The work of the ministry is so varied that in one way or in another I feel you will help the world very much. I do not say that the ministry is easy. It is not easy: it is difficult, very difficult. That is one reason why I think it should appeal to a man: it is a summons to his heroism. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 23, 1906) Heroism is exactly the quality that attracted Jim into the ministry, and he meant to give himself up to the Christian work that was the most taxing. The young man, after four years of a plush Yale education, after sixteen years of privileged suburban life in Lake Forest, wanted to devote the rest of his life to mission work in China. Many an idealistic young man of this generation had the same impulse. Rudyard Kipling and his white man's burden seemed reasonable to the Western world before it was saturated with talk of the Third World and imperialism, and surely the Peace Corps, albeit a more secular approach, is guided by a similar missionary spirit. �Yale 63 Back in 1906, Protestant nations giddy with the sense of power and accomplishment were scrambling to collect parts of Asia and Africa like so many stamps. The heroes in this complex process, as seen from home, were the missionaries. Forsaking all the fruits of progress in the Western world, they were seen as sacrificing their lives to teach a solid base of Christianity to people whose local beliefs had left them in cultural bondage. In fact, the missionaries were the cutting edge of a powerful Western European and American culture whose very success muted criticism. Missionaries were as varied as the myriad of Christian denominations and individual personalities they represented. Not only did they bring a new religion and culture to the four corners of the earth, they also brought back to their churches and missionary societies vivid reports of the foreign lands where they worked. The remarkable volume of cross cultural flow that occurred was unprecedented in the history of the world, and one has only to remember young James' church group, Steady Streams, and its hundred of thousands of counterparts to conceive of the impact that was felt. In any event, this comfortable world of Western domination began to fray at the edges early in the twentieth century. Woodrow Wilson himself, by including national self-determination as one of his Fourteen Points to end World War I, detonated the explosives that destroyed the basis of European colonialism. Certainly genuine idealism was at work in the minds of many young Americans when Jim McClure was attending Yale. China and the life of a missionary were topics of discussion at nearly every conference and religious meeting he attended. He knew several people who went to China. For example, a college friend, John Magee from Pittsburgh, experienced a remarkable conversion as he walked down the corridor to his room. He was struck as by lightning, like St. Paul, and from that moment he determined to go into the ministry, and then to China. As an undergraduate Jim corresponded with Warren B. Seabury, who had already graduated and was in the Chinese mission field. His letters came to Jim during his senior year, and clearly had an impact on the young man's thinking. Mr. Seabury gave Jim an unheroic, somewhat homesick, but provocative picture of his role in China. "My dear Jim:" one letter began, "Can you stand a drip from an old missionary friend tonight? Brace up, it won't hurt long." These communications gave Jim, and also give us, an idea of the rewards of missionary work and an insight into the missionary's drive. . . . I returned last night from a trip up into the country with a mighty good friend of mine . . . Well this friend of mine although an Episcopalian is very human! He is one of the wittiest and drollest men I ever knew. We went up the Han River from which Hankow is named and ... The more I see of these native cities the worse I think they are. People who have been in China always talk about the smells until you are tempted to think it more or less of a joke, But actually the odors from open drains, dirty corners, stale meat-shops, boiling fat, Chinese dye (one of the worst known to science!), "tonsorial parlors" etc., etc. is a rank catalogue of impossibilities! At the first you find �64 We Plow God's Fields these cities interesting and novel but soon the novelty wears off and you take a full breath when you come o u t . . . A good part of the morning we pushed along on the puffy little streamer . . . A village street is as Chinese as a city street, but it is if anything darker and meaner, rougher and more uneven. Up and down steps you have to go with houses above and below you. The mission hall was not large and Episcopal looking at all. Rude benches, horses such as carpenters use were all we had to sit on ... We wanted to be alone but our Chinese hosts conceived it their duty to escort us and regarded our earnest protestations as only polite phrases . . . You notice two things in almost all your travels in typical China. One is that there are very few nice little nooks, a bunch of trees, a brook, a shady pasture. The trees are cut down; the brooks are dug out ... for irrigation purposes; the pastures are grave yards on high land and fields for crops in lower land. Everything about you looks used for something. Another thing you noted sooner is that China is a very populous country for there seems to be no getting away from them. Chinese, Chinese everywhere. You sit down and they gather about you to ask you questions and discuss you but always to stare. A missionary over in Hankow said that his first idea of eternity came from a Chinese stare! . . . I do really think that there is lots of room for men who see that they are not like other men, who feel that they are not pious and gentle souls, but who want to chip in somewhere and help. It is not only the natives with whom we must deal. There are plenty of foreigners here with whom much is to be done. And it seems to me that all the health and ability of body, all the social grace, all the mental vigour and breadth and all the spiritual desire . . . ruling a man in his devotion to the progressively revealed will of God can find no better field for exercise than China . . . The best things we do are done by bravely entering open doors. (Warren Seabury to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 10, 1905) . . . In your last letter you speak of the possibility of being a missionary. I had not known how you stood on the question although I had reason to think that you and your friends were considering the thing with care. It is a big question and no one can settle it for any one else. At Northfield and at New Haven one hears a great deal of argument and . . . if he is in earnest he studies it very carefully . . . He would like to know the joys of real missionary life as they really are but he would also give much to get a fair view of the trying features of life in these lands. I am going to mention a few of these harder features of life in China. How would you like to live in a city of narrow crowded streets as all the Chinese streets are? Every time you go out people on every hand stop and gaze at you. If you enter a shop or stop to talk with anyone a crowd of curious, ignorant looking people gather about you asking you questions, feeling of your clothes and making remarks about you as if you were an inmate of the zoo . . . How would you like to live among a people who are not trustworthy and not appreciative? . . . They do not tell the truth. They do not believe in each other. They don't trust you and they don't want you here . . . You are their guest but you are not a welcome one and you have to watch in every purchase . . . that they don't get away with two or three times as much as they have earned . . . I will come closer home. How would you like to work in a mission with �Yale 65 whose members you are not in sympathy? They are older, they are very conservative, they want you to do just as they irregardless of your tendencies . . . There are those who come from different levels of society, coarse men and women, critical, outspoken, ill natured perhaps . . . Upon you, the new man, a lot of the work is placed which you regard as too much. . . . They might be jealous of your ability or injured by what they regard as your feelings of superiority. .. . Jim this may all sound pretty hard. You will find noble exceptions to all of them. (Warren Seabury to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 26, 1905) The thoughts of Jim McClure were with Warren Seabury, and as graduation approached China weighed heavily on his mind. Certainly Jim was no academic, but he did graduate on time. Yale honored his father on the same day, awarding him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. His sister Harriet came to dance with his friends at the Senior Prom. It was a joyous and happy moment; songs such as "Bright College Years" were belted out by the Class of '06. Others must have grated a bit on the McClure ear, but were none the less part of the festivities of these final days. Is it possible Jim Sr. and Jr. joined in enthusiastically on the likes of "Here's to good old Yale, Drink her down" and "My comrades, when I am No More Drinking?"26 The class poem was written and read by James Wallis of Dubuque, Iowa, who compared Yale to Camelot and his fellow classmates to young knights. But there is greater work We yet shall do, for we shall travel far, . . . To give the good here molded into us To needy places where we shall set up New Camelots.27 Even if the meter was heavy, in Jim's case the sentiments of Mr. Wallis were truly prophetic. The class orator was Jim's close friend and fellow Bones member, Lee Perrin. In his commencement speech he said: "We are born to an heritage of privilege and responsibility, an heritage which we may altogether accept or decline .. . For our common foster-parent Society . . . requires where she gives; and it will not answer that we have our talents laid up in a napkin."28 That foster parent had given richly to those young men, and no one was more keenly aware of this truth than Jim McClure. His father, now the president of McCormick Theological Seminary, advised his son to put off China for three years. He wrote: It may be that the very best thing you could do would be to come right here, take a room in one of the Seminary buildings, have your meals either at home or in a club and let us feel your presence and your aid ... At the end of the year you would know clearly whether you desired to continue your studies for the ministry or not. Of course this would involve . . . the surrender of many social opportuni- �66 We Plow God's Fields ties. A man cannot do his professional study well and keep up a round of social engagements at the same time. But I believe you would be happy. In due time you would be interested and contented . . . I love you very dearly, my boy—I do not mean to lean upon you too heavily. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 23, 1906) After graduation Jim was in charge of organizing a Yale Summer Conference at the Hotchkiss School, because the Northfield conference was scheduled in conflict with activities in New Haven. Afterwards he was off to the St. Lawrence River to join his Skull and Bones friends on Deer Island. One last fling with his closest of comrades, and the Yale years were complete. He sailed to Chicago with Louis Douseman on the steamship Northland.29 The summer of 1906 was a social feast for Jim, a final chance to gorge before, if he followed his father's advice, his seminary studies would force him to slim down his list of engagements. Chicago's North Shore during the summer featured a spectacular series of fairs, with each community vying to outdo the next. Lake Forest brought in American sharp-shooters and Japanese contortionists for an open air vaudeville show. But it was in the town of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, that in 1906 the Chicago society crowd was most dazzled. A news article reported that when it was over, " . . . the women who had toiled hard for the success of the event . . . drew a long breath, and asked each other, 'Was it better than Lake Geneva?' "30 One of these sighing ladies was a Mrs. J. H. Eckels, who had invited Jim to be a house guest during the fete. She filled her large and splendid house that weekend with privileged young people. Her daughter Phebe, along with a friend, Charlotte Partridge, appear to have garnered the most attention. Jim enticed Charlotte into a photography booth long enough to snap a souvenir picture of the two of them staring intently into one another's eyes.31 At the fete, Mrs. Eckel's exhibit was an elaborate stage show known as the French Amusement Hall. Jim took turns as barker, a role for which he had a natural gift. For his efforts he was awarded a card that read, "Jim McClure (The Handy Dandy Man). And he Barked where ever he went (the Dog)."32 His pitch went something like this: "Step right up, ladies and gents, and see the prize fight of the century. Inside, the French Amusement Hall proudly presents an entire troup of midgets, preparing this very minute to box for your entertainment." Or else, "See the saucy Salvaggi five, who will bring to your unbelieving eyes an acrobatic orgy that will confound the forces of gravity."33 At heart, Jim McClure was a showman, a promoter. Nothing could fire his vital forces more than a crowd needing to be entertained. This Oconomowoc Fair was a reflection of the vast wealth being made in Chicago at the turn of the century, and the good ladies who worried lest the town of Lake Geneva surpass them flaunted this fact. It was tagged the Billion Dollar Carnival, because the net assets of the twenty families who backed it �Yale 67 supposedly exceeded that figure. A Chicago newspaper gloated, "never before in the west has so much wealth been represented in an outdoor entertainment."34 A Mrs. Valentine spent $5,000 to build a German village that included an exact replica of an old Rhine River beer garden.35 And yet, mirroring the rapid shift in the local economy, there were also awards for the best white onions, beets, potatoes and corn. Undoubtedly, Jim enjoyed it all, despite the conspicuous consumption and display of wealth. The $5,000 could have helped so many suffering people in China, or in Chicago for that matter. He was caught up in a world in which he was losing faith, and in due time this conflict would make a strong mark on Jim McClure's outlook. But to the residents of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin that summer of 1906, the burning question remained, was their fair really better than the one in Lake Geneva? The society editors in Chicago all agreed, "It was the special success of the summer .. ."36 Jim had every right, in that same summer of 1906, to feel that his own prospects promised a "special success." He had avoided (barely) burying his talents in the Panhandle of Texas, and Yale University had indeed offered him a great deal. He had thrived within the religious community. Everyone liked him, not least of all the young ladies. He enjoyed the friendship of the sons of the powerful families who attended Yale. He had been asked to join a small and select group, Skull and Bones, an honor that his father shared. The past and future members of this society had a continuing constructive influence in American Society. Years later many of them would help Jim finance his work for the mountain people of North Carolina. In his heart he was sure that idealism would yield the real treasurers of personal satisfaction, and time would show that this notion was right, but not before he endured a great personal struggle. After Yale and the festivities of summer, a period of austerity set in, and a gloom began to hang over his life that was not fully dispelled until after his marriage. He began this phase of his life in Scotland, the home of his ancestors, during the long nights of that country's dreary winter. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. Scrapbook of Yale memorabilia made by James G. K. McClure, Jr. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. Yale Scrapbook. Yale College Book of Rules, in the Yale scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. Yale Scrapbook Article in Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook, March 13, 1904. �68 We Plow God's Fields 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. Yale Scrapbook, February 14, 1904. Address by James G. K. McClure, Jr., to the Yale YMCA< no known date. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Speech made by James G. K. McClure, Jr., at Haverford Pa., March 5, 1905. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Telegram to Rev. and Mrs. McClure from Horace Ferry, no date. James G. K. McClure, Jr. in his Berlin notebook, 1909. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook, several photographs. Yale Scrapbook, newspaper clipping, paper and date unknown. Yale Scrapbook. Yale Scrapbook. Chicago Evening American, August 4, 1906. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. �Chapter Five Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen Well James my boy, you are about to start across the briny deep to take up the more serious forms of life and I only hope you find it as fine as you expect and the vocation just suited to you. (Louis Douseman to James G. K. McClure Jr., October2, 1906) The home to which Jim returned in the summer of 1906 was not the familiar manse in prosperous, safe Lake Forest. His father, as president of McCormick Seminary, now lived on Halsted Street, the border of Chicago's Little Italy. Their home was not far from Jane Addams' pioneer urban settlement project, Hull House. She had opened Hull House seventeen years before as a challenge to all Christians " . . . to share the lives of the poor [and] express the spirit of Christ." Jim's new surroundings must have reinforced the powerful pull he felt toward meeting the needs of the less fortunate. Already he was questioning the smug and class-ridden Victorian church, which appeared to him to dodge its duties in an industrial climate bearing the ripe fruit of hate and violence. With broad strokes, he began to rough in a mental picture of a reactionary religion bent on maintaining the status quo, while feeding the oppressed a thin diet of repentance, ladled out with large portions of bourgeois morality. The plight of the American laboring class dwelt heavily on Jim's conscience. He often imagined himself denying his own position of privilege. These attitudes led him inexorably into the political camp of Progressivism, a body of opinion that encompassed a wide range of reform ideas that began to dominate the American political and intellectual scene during these years. Republican Theodore Roosevelt became the most visible leader of the movement. Indeed, 1906 was the beginning of the era of the "muckraker," a term coined by Roosevelt. A muckraker was a journalist who was prone to explicit exposure of corporate or political evils, and wrote in a style designed to create a wave of moral outrage. The year Jim graduated from Yale, Upton Sinclair published his book The Jungle, which spoiled an entire nation's taste for packaged meat by portraying with graphic detail some of the common practices of the processing plants of Chicago. Sinclair set the style, and following his lead exposes began rolling off American printing presses. This intellectual climate of moral outrage shaped Jim's impressions of politics and capitalism. Part of a new generation rejected the dying spirit of the Gospel of Wealth for the hope of Progressivism. While an older generation might still extol the pluck of Horatio Alger, the 69 �70 We Plow God's Fields favorite author of a series of success stories for boys, their sons and daughters began to question the smug theories of Social Darwinism and its proclamations about the "survival of the fittest" in a competitive society. The Progressives envisioned a new role for government, that of protector of the powerless and underprivileged. Laissez-faire politics came under heavy attack. "Trust-busting," political reform, concern for the rights of the working man, and even consumer protection came to life with the leadership of Theodore Roosevelt. In short, the Progressives believed that American government ought to purge itself of corruption in order to become a f air arbiter between the various power centers of a new industrial society. But even while these new ideas were forming the outline of a value structure for Jim McClure, he could not resist the pleasures available to a young man of his position. The summer of 1906 was a string of grand parties and romance all along the North Shore. Perhaps he knew himself well enough to guess that for him to remain in Chicago at this time would prove disastrous to his growing sense of serious purpose. He decided not to enroll at McCormick Seminary that fall, but accepted instead a generous offer from Mrs. Cyrus McCormick, the inheritor of the vast reaper fortune and a member of his father's congregation. She offered to pay his way to Scotland, ancestral home of the McClures (and McCormicks!), so that he could study at New College, the theological school of the University of Edinburgh. Nothing could have appealed to "Madame" McCormick more than to send her beloved minister's young son back to his Presbyterian homeland to prepare for the ministry. Jim left for Scotland by way of New England in the fall of 1906, accompanied by his two younger brothers, Nathan and Arch. They were keenly interested in all the stories and pranks of Jim's Yale years. They were interested as well in his decision to enter the ministry, in his theological views, in everything he said and did. The love within this family was never more evident than during these weeks before his departure for Scotland. In Boston they watched their White Sox fall to the Red Sox. In Westerly, they were embraced by the Dixons. Perhaps it was there that their father caught up with the three of them. He reclaimed the two younger sons, and later reported back to Jim: My dear boy: As soon as Nathan and Arch got out of your sight, Nathan pulled his hat over his eyes—to conceal his tears, and both he and Arch wept silently. I am lonely without you. The more you are with me the quieter we are together, the stronger I feel. I commit you to God . . . I have been up in your room and thought of you. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., September 22, 1906) Several days later, he wrote again to Jim: Paul said to Timothy, whom he called "my beloved child," "I thank God, whom I serve from my forefathers in a pure conscience, how increasing is �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 71 my remembrance of thee . .. Suffer hardship with me as a good soldier of Christ Jesus." So I say to you. When I wake at night, I will think of you: when I do my daily work I will likewise think of you . .. You and I have many ties together. Yale is one, and Bones is another and now we may look forward to another . .. Every morning and every night your name will be on my lips before the throne of Grace. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 3, 1906) From his mother came a package with pajamas and slippers " . . . and Annie sends the paper and envelopes ..." (She had graduated from Wellesley and was helping her father as secretary). Every member of Jim's family sent an expression to him of his or her love. There was a feeling that Jim's status with them had changed; he was now severing his ties with them, leading the way for the others into the adult world. These family love offerings arrived for Jim in Norwich, Connecticut, where he had gone to usher in the wedding of his Bones comrade, Grosvenor Ely. Both of Grove's parents had died, leaving him an enormous house and plenty of endowment. The wedding was one of those occasions Jim absolutely adored. There were all his friends, and an opportunity for frivolous entertainments that he more often than not devised. For his services as an usher, Jim received a wooden cane topped with a gold snake head. The night before the ceremony, the bachelor's party spilled out into New Haven, and the young graduates toured about "the upper part of town singing glees."1 Louis Douseman had been unable to leave Wisconsin to come East and writes to Jim with obvious envy. Louis described the disillusionment he felt on returning home and trying to deal with his family's neighbors. Class divisions haunted America, and for Jim, having just participated in his friend's wedding, Louis's words must have made him pause and wonder about what illusions he himself might have to shed. I have changed my ideas about things considerable since my home coming, as you are bound to do, and it isn't all such a cinch as I had hoped for as the ways of man [aren't] as noble as my acquaintance in the past has led me to expect . .. You ought to see me attending meetings of the Town Board on roads and surrounded by farmers, who have it in for me, as I force them to give up some of their old habits of making public thoroughfares of our land. It is rare sport but I almost had a fight at our last session—They surely are a dullheaded bunch who have to be taught a lesson sooner or later. (Louis Douseman to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 2, 1906) As the "knights" of Yale '06 returned home, anxious to recreate Camelot, contact with real people struggling to survive in a difficult world rapidly eroded their college ideals, bringing out the old defensive and snobbish instincts of class. Jim McClure had yet to be tested, but it would be the mark of the man throughout his life that he sought to maintain the Christian ideals of both his upbringing and his choosing. He learned to empathize with people of all layers �72 We Plow God's Fields and conditions of society. He considered it a human tragedy when a man left the high road of idealism to pursue a life of cynicism. On October 6, 1906, Jim left the United States as a First Cabin Passenger on the steamer Columbia. He was sent off with a batch of telegrams from his family, friends and romantic interests (the last group skirmishing a bit over whose special Mend he was!). Just before sailing, he squeezed in an automobile race on Long Island, the Third Annual International Competition for the William K. Vanderbilt, Jr. Cup, quite something to see in 1906. So our hero left this country, quite independent and with the spirit of great adventure. Great Britain in 1906 ruled much of the world, and was the cultural foundation for the English-speaking world. By comparison, Chicago was considered a crass metropolis somewhere west of New York, buried in the provincial hinterland of the United States. The New College of Edinburgh was a very demanding theological institution. Enrolled there were some of the finest young minds of the Presbyterian Church, having endured a rigorous curriculum in order to earn the privilege of attendance. Jim's academic record was mediocre; he had concentrated on friends and fun. His grasp of Greek and Latin, World History, Literature, Philosophy and the rest was thin and confused. He had been preceded at the New College by another Bones man, Henry Sloane Coffin, who was destined to become one of the most influential men of his generation. Jim wrote to Mr. Coffin for advice, and received in return a list of his friends in Edinburgh and some kind encouragement. He was also preceded by his father's reputation as a leader in the American church. On arrival he was greeted by the distinguished New College theologian, Marcus Dods, who knew and admired his father. He spent several days as a guest of the Dods family before settling into a room. By this time Jim was beginning to realize that his personal charm gave him the ability to persuade and move people. Perhaps he was getting overconfident of his ability. Dr. Dods sized him up quickly enough. According to family tradition, he wrote an American friend that "Jim McClure is the most charming and the most ignorant young man I have ever met."2 It was not long before Jim himself realized his abysmal ignorance in comparison with the serious and dedicated students in his class. He learned that for a McClure, especially a Presbyterian McClure, ignorance was a sin. You couldn't get by on charm alone. With characteristic zeal he began an all-out assault on his academic shortcomings. He loved to gather up his strength for a plunge into combat, and so he began by making a list of great books, those he felt constituted the essence of Western Civilization. He then determined to read a book a week until the list was done. He kept records of his progress, making it harder on himself by counting books of two or three volumes as only one completed work. Green's History of England, in four volumes, was a particularly arduous seven-day challenge. It was an endurance race of sorts; and he kept at it, with list after list, until 1913. He read in all more than 500 books, in �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 73 m Marcus Dods, President of New College, Edinburgh, Scotland. addition to the required reading for his courses. He polished off William James, Rudyard Kipling, John Fiske's History of the United States, Huckleberry Finn, Charles Dickens, Aldous Huxley, Ibsen, Dante, Bunyan, Balzac, and the list stretches on. Jim's roommate in the dormitory was a young man named John Baillie. They became great friends and used to lie in bed at night making up lists such as "ten things I most dislike" and "ten reasons for not getting out of bed in the morning." Later on, John became a distinguished Scottish theologian and president of the New College. In his books there are a number of such lists, but in a much more serious vein.3 By December, Dr. Dods had come to appreciate Jim. He sent word back to the McClure home on his progress. "I think I cannot send you a Christmas card you will find more welcome than the thankful acknowledgement that your son has quite won the hearts of all members of our College. He is, I think, the most popular man we have had from the U.S.A.... His face captivates everyone and on acquaintance we find it is lived up to...." But he went on to say he was unsure about Jim's decision to leave the dormitory in order to live in an urban settlement house in the Cowgate, a tough section of Edinburgh. He wrote with resignation that he "Certainly . . . will see a good deal of institutional church work" (Marcus Dods to James G. K. McClure, Sr., December 11, 1906). "Institutional church work" was putting it mildly. The weekly routine of the Pleasance Street Settlement House included mothers' meetings, Bible classes, Sabbath services, Lads' Club, a Savings Bank �74 We Plow God's Fields meeting (to teach profligate Scotsmen a little thrift), classes for sewing and music, and something called the Band of Hope, which might have been a program for alcoholics. The purpose of this mission was to involve members of the local "community in a daily routine that would break the old patterns of self-destruction. A new culture of Christ was provided to replace the general culture of vice that operated in the neighborhood. Pleasance Street was an area of the city so densely populated that Jim could count fifty-five families using the same doorway across the street from the mission, in a structure not over four stories tall. He noticed that the people's physical growth was stunted by their poverty. He remarked later in a sermon that he had " . . . never met a man taller than 5'7" living in the Cowgate."4 Jim was looking face to face at the alcoholism that is endemic to Scotland, a cultural sickness that surely influenced the determination of his own family's choice of abstinence. On Saturday evenings Jim walked along the streets with Warden Symington, who was in charge of the mission. He was a great big man with a shock of red hair. The two of them walked along breaking up fights. Symington would catch hold of one man and Jim the other, and they would forcefully jerk them apart. Once they went up to the second floor of a tenement to stop a fight. A "Bobbie" was ahead of them, and the warden disapproved of his behavior. He picked him up and dropped him out the window.5 Drunks, prostitutes and brawls were a part of the routine. These drunks remained for Jim a symbol of the fantastic possibilities of human hypocrisy. He said later, "In Scotland, I have heard some of the finest talks on religion and temperance from men who were drunk."6 Mr. Symington left the employ of the mission during this time. At the farewell party, Jim received two playing cards, the King and ten of hearts, as a memento. The warden signed them, and inscribed this message to Jim: "May this be the only card of this kind you handle unless to destroy."7 Evil for these Scottish Presbyterians of 1906 was not a matter left open for debate. And so the young idealist from Yale came face to face with the scourges of an urban society. Many a young man in such a situation retreats hastily back into the safety of academia, allowing fatalism and cynicism to grow up from within to crowd out his former hopes for a finer world. Jim McClure took his walks in a world where brutality and anger had to be dealt with quickly and confidently. Forever afterwards he remembered the Pleasance Street Settlement House in a quaintly fond way, as an exciting time of testing when he became engaged in the problems of the lives of people outside the confines of the college. He discovered he had a taste for this work, and that neither his courage nor his ideals were easily shaken. Unlike his friend Louis Douseman, he did not change his ideas. Jim thrived on excitement and liked to think of himself as courageous and persuasive enough to wade into other people's problems. Scattered through Jim's diary are many entries referring to his work with the Settlement House. On one of those interminable Scottish winter nights he wrote " . . . out with the Warden . . . quiet—one woman's purse stolen-awful sight—women drunk with children—pity."8 A few weeks later he noted, �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 75 "Brought a poor boy home—gave him 4d... ."9 He celebrated Washington's birthday by skipping all his classes in order to attend the trial of one Pougrate, who was "condemned and hung by Shaw, the hangman."10 Despite Jim McClure's curiosity about the sensational, the routine of these days in Edinburgh rotated about the daily class meetings with his seminary professors. The winter term began on January 8, 1907 with a controversial address presented by Dr. Dods, castigating the gathered group of Highlands ministers for laziness. Jim must have felt a little uneasy himself. His own academic diligence remained an unproved commodity. The Yale good-times habits were hard to extinguish. Worrying about his little vices, he confessed to a lapse in personal purity; he smoked "10 sigs" the week following Dr. Dods' sermon. Other entertainments included the companionship of two young ladies, a Miss Simpson and Dorothy Lowe. He entertained the latter on horseback, no doubt exhausting his repertoire of bronco-busting stories. Jim also received several visiting friends. With one, Frank Dodge, he spent the day talking and sight-seeing, walking up to Holy Rood, the ancient seat of Scottish royalty, and becoming so absorbed in conversation at one castle that they remained late into the night "til we were thrown out." He enjoyed several day trips to nearby towns of interest. He returned in a rush from Aberdeen in order to read Pilgrim's Progress to a group of children. For sports, there were field hockey and rugby. His seminary "ruggers" challenged the "Established Church" to a match. He belonged to the local Theological Society, where he read a paper on Tolstoy.11 Jim McClure allowed himself to be pulled in many different directions. He had an appetite for adventure and excitement, something he rarely found in theological classes or books. From 9:00 a.m. to noon each day, he attended the classes of each of his three professors. The educational methods were formal, but the small size of the faculty and student body allowed for an intimate learning environment. There were regular teas with the professors, where a student could launch out on a tangent or clarify a theological point. These classes and assignments Jim pursued with a sense of duty, not pleasure. He often discovered delightful reasons why he might cut a class from time to time, especially those of a Dr. Martin. Exams were scheduled for late March, and by Jim's own admission he had as yet not mastered the rigors of academia. On March 21st, he "Sat a poor exam in Dogmatics ..." and four days later admits that he "Cut [a] poor figure in exams... ,"12 Jim was never particularly concerned with church dogmas anyway. The study time he lost he turned to advantage in travel around Scotland. He tried to see as much of the country as he could. For one jaunt, an agreeable young Princeton man joined him for a tour of Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond, and on "up to Rob Roy's cave... ,"13 By the end of March, after his exams, he announced in his diary that the Scottish time was running out. "Hate to leave Edinburgh—very happy days—Everyone too kind!" Well, not everyone, for he goes on to say that he made a farewell stroll in the moonlight "up Carlton Hill—lots of bad people."14 �76 We Plow God's Fields Dr. Dods closed the session with another address, summing up the theological thicket in which Jim McClure now found himself. Jim greatly admired Dr. Dods, for both his intellect and his persuasiveness. Jim would mourn his death within the year. Dr. Dods had endured throughout his career the theological fads of his generation. He explained to Jim and his classmates that the unsettled condition of church dogma was an opportunity for the young men listening to him. He said, "It was in a time of transition such as this, when every old belief was called in question and when the traditional moorings were sunk, that men felt their need of guidance and the expert found his opportunity. When all things were fixed and ready to take their shapes, the hand that could form the mould had the control of the new world."15 Jim left New College with many friendships and a growing theological curiosity. Dr. Martin signed his diploma stating that "Mr. J. G. McClure Jr. B. S. had been a student in this College during Session 1906-7; is much esteemed both by the Senatus and by his fellow students; and is recommended hereby to the kind offices of the authorities of the University in which he proposes to study during the summer."16 The University he chose was located in Germany, the country that had so fascinated Jim McClure at Yale. Germany was the center of the theological controversies of the day; the very place where Dr. Dods' "new moulds" were being shaped. The force and power of science, in the German universities more than anywhere else, were at work to "demythologize" and "modernize" a Christian creed that had for so long viewed the cold objectivity of the scientific method as a threat. Jim McClure, having caught the excitement of these struggles, and having a natural predilection for the rational as opposed to the revealed nature of Truth, was drawn to Germany. The Seminary of the University of Tubingen was founded in 1537 amidst the theological revolution of the Reformation. It was established as Protestant, and has remained a leading theological center for Protestant thought. The town of Tubingen lies in the southwest corner of Germany, within about sixty miles of both Switzerland and France in the old political region of Wurttemberg. The seminary had maintained its revolutionary vigor into the twentieth century, and was widely known for the number of brilliant professors working there in an attempt to demythologize Christianity. Rudolf Bultmann, who became most skillful in the science of form criticism, and Paul Tillich, who devised a comprehensive existential theology and had a considerable intellectual following, were Tubingen students and Jim's contemporaries. Bultmann labored throughout his life to unravel the mystery of the "historical Jesus" by carefully trying to discern and remove the various layers of myth surrounding him in the Biblical testimony. Paul Tillich based his theology on a synthesis of culture and faith. Both these men were looking for a new, firm basis for faith, in order to revitalize the churches with a meaning that did not try to side-step the scientific method of inquiry. Jim McClure came searching for a religion that would energize people and societies as well, so that a transformation could begin that would usher in a new era, a real earthly Kingdom of God. He was ready to plunge ahead and �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen in 77 s- Postcard from T. Zieglar, July 4, 1907. to get his hands dirty, but he needed first to find a message that he could both believe and act upon. Jim's letters from Tubingen sounded a variety of themes, and were read with interest around the dinner table on Halsted Street. . . . [Tubingen] is about the most beautiful place I have ever been in—right in the midst of the Swabian Albes . .. We could see the Hohenzollern Castle. The hills and small mountains are wonderful and we walked through valleys and through Pine Forests and it really is wonderful. Also for theology it seems that I have chosen very fortunately. There are about 300 theological students here . . . However I am the first American student—they say. Today . . . I attended two lectures without understanding a word . . . I wish the family could all see me thrashing about in this unutterable language. I never expect to understand a word. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, May 1, 1907) Talk about silent people. Your boy has not opened his lips to speak for five days . . . Since last writing nothing of importance has happened except the forgetting of three German words which I thought I knew when I came here. Also Mother will be pleased to know that as yet no German students have challenged me to a duel . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, May 2, 1907) �78 We Plow God's Fields The German language remained a puzzle to Jim at Tubingen. This blocked his comprehension of the theology he was studying. Despite his afternoon efforts with Joe Twichell at Yale, attending lectures on Kant and Hegel in German was a great trial to him. Philosophy is subtle enough in one's native tongue, and so Jim appears to have taken to doodling. His notebook is full of fanciful caricatures half man-half beast, no doubt satirizing his proud and serious German professors. He became quite lonely in Tubingen, and treasured letters from home. From Nathan he received this peppy note: "3 cheers for the cubs . . . Wright me soon .. ." (Nathan McClure to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 10, 1906). Arch follows up with a more concrete summary of the baseball situation. "The Cubs are still eight games ahead of New York . . . In the American League, Cleveland, Detroit and Philadelphia in that order are right at the Sox heels" (Arch McClure to James G. K. McClure, Jr., July 16, 1907). Dueling was the honored sport of the German aristocrat. Face scars were for many the prerequisite for respect. Sunday afternoon duels were a fine spectator event in Tubingen, and Jim was unable to keep himself away. "[I] walked out . . . to get a look at duelling. Butted in but students very polite . . . Blood flowing freely."17 Jim was always drawn towards excitement, whether Cubs baseball, Yale football or German duelling. While Jim watched one of these duels, a contestant lunged at his opponent, neatly severing one ear. The lost appendage dropped to the ground, and was immediately gobbled up by the victim's pet hound, who had been waiting in the wings.18 In another episode, Jim was entertaining his American friend Charlotte Partridge. Her family had come to Germany on a European tour. Jim and Charlotte were sitting in a small garden cafe in Heidelberg. There had just been a heavy summer rain shower. Tables were set up outside, protected from the storm by a canvas awning. As awnings are prone to do, it bulged this particular afternoon with the water that had collected during the shower. Jim and the girl were happily preoccupied with each other's company. Into this lovely garden scene marched a haughty Prussian officer. Perhaps the world of man has never created a personage that could exude such a sense of superiority, such contempt for others, or such excessive pride, as the Prussian officer. The mien of such a man grated against the democratic ideals of the young American, and anyway he had a fine girl to entertain. He was seized by a reckless impulse. Canes were in style in the Germany of this day, and Jim surreptitiously reached up with his and pushed the nearest bulge in the awning at just the right moment to drench the officer. A moment later, the joke became a little hollow as the officer sent a message to Jim demanding a duel; after all, a proud man's honor had been thoroughly debased in a public place and the local codes demanded an opportunity to redress. A foolhardy joke had now placed Jim in a serious predicament. According to the duelling code, the man challenged had the right to choose the weapon, the time and the place. Jim returned a note to the Prussian, accepting the challenge under the following conditions: as for weapons, one could use only his fists; as for the time, it was to be right away; and as for the place, it �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 79 was to be behind that very garden cafe. Jim McClure had shrewdly chosen a "duel" no German of honor could abide. Brawling was too undignified, and the Prussian declined.19 Charlotte's family invited Jim to join their entourage. It was for him a glorious reprieve from his studies and his loneliness. He wrote home, "Charlotte Partridge wrote me this morning that they would be in Munich on Sunday—so will I. Though—this for father—I will return to Tubingen without a pfennig and hold a record breaking fast until reimbursement comes" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, late April, 1907). Charlotte made life gay for Jim again. They went to vaudeville shows, rowed on ponds, ate pastries for breakfast, and drove about in an automobile Mr. Partridge had hired for the family's use. Jim's diary gives a lively account of his movements. Motoring through Germany, he and Charlotte . . . saw everything in Wurzburg and ate two sausages in that half hour . . . Ch[arlotte] and I drove madly thru town . .. We got to Frankfort in time for lunch—after lunch we drove over town and through it ... [At Wiesbaden] Mr. Partridge and I arose at 5:30 the next morning . . . and had a hot mineral bath. I felt gouty before but the bath put me on my feet again. We then drove to the Rhine and embarked on a capacious boat and took the trip down the Rhine—it was simply wonderful—descriptions do not touch the real thing with a long bamboo pole . .. Koln [Cologne] at 5:00 said goodbye .. . did not relish it.20 One picture that has survived of this episode shows Charlotte under and behind a large and discrete veiled hat, with Jim peering cheerfully from beneath a handsome bowler. It might seem surprising that Charlotte should turn up in Germany, but in fact Europe was fairly swarming with Jim's friends. Between Edinburgh and Tubingen, he ate dinner with "Bill" Coffin, and went to Buckingham Palace with Frank Dodge. Russell Cheney met him in Paris, and then who should appear but Charlotte's rival, Phoebe Eckols. Jim and Phoebe did their driving in Paris, on the Bois du Bologne and in the shadow of the Pantheon and Notre Dame. After Phoebe left, Agnes Booth arrived in town. It was as if the powers of American society were making a special effort to entertain the lonely seminary student. The Booths invited Jim to join them for a chauffeured tour of France. From Chartres to Orleans to Tours, and on and on they went; chateaux, dungeons, cathedrals and the finest French cuisine, with dominoes after dinner, for a week of luxury. They breezed back to Paris in time to catch Madame Butterfly. Sadly for Jim, the "... Booths start for England [and I] almost went with them."21 But Jim's friends in Paris had by no means been exhausted after the departure of Agnes Booth. There was a fine bunch of his Yale buddies there, and he drove around with them in a Mercedes taking in more sights, including the tomb of that most famous of all Frenchmen, Napoleon Bonaparte. In 1907 Europe �80 We Plow God's Fields had become a wonderful American playground. If the Old World was exporting its masses "yearning to breathe free" to the New World, the new was returning tourists who had "struck it rich" in America, returning in part to discover their own backgrounds, and also to brag a little about their success and their country. After some weeks of language difficulties back at Tubingen there was a holiday. In late May Jim and Otto Berlin, a German student, planned a walking tour in the nearby Black Forest. Jim looked forward to playing the gypsy. He carried along a little concertina, and accompanied Otto's singing to pay for supper and lodging. Otto wished to learn English and Jim expected to learn German. But Jim found that he missed the comforts of the more lavish tours in the automobiles of his lady companions. I am at present . . . situated in the worst hotel in the world . . . We climb up to our room on a ladder. You would die if you could see me on my tour with the German student. We left Tubingen yesterday morning . . . and travelled by train to Freudenstadt—on the train we travelled fourth class—rather we bumped over the rails fourth class . . . We each carry a pack on our back and in said pack besides clothes for the journey we carry a loaf of bread and a Big Wurst which we eat for lunch. Yesterday he tried to tell me the love story of his life, showing me a picture of his loved one. I however understood almost nil and tried to put in intelligent ejaculations. Yesterday we walked 61 kilometers—a breath taker for me—but I pulled in at night ahead of the student . . . after this I will never think of falling in love. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, May 19, 1907) At Lake Constance, on the Swiss border, The German student left for Munich and I heaved a large sigh of relief . . . This whole journey—some 400 miles and seeing all these things cost me just $13.00 which I think is about as cheap as such journey was ever made . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to family, May 24, 1907) Although at the time this walking trip certainly seemed difficult, Jim remembered it with joy in later years when telling his adventure to his daughter. On returning to Tubingen, Jim McClure began again the struggle to comprehend the contortions of philosophy and theology in a language he did not understand. To make matters worse, his professor was a Hungarian named Haring, who lectured on material straight out of his book Dogmatik. Jim doodled through his lectures and then went back to his room to try to figure out from Dogmatik what the man had been saying. He had to look up nearly every German word, moving at the glacial speed of about a page an hour. "Fearful stuff he called the professor's writings. He decided German lessons would help him, and so employed a Fraulein Oeler to teach him the language each afternoon. Soon afterwards, he felt as if he had made progress. "[I] Understand �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 81 Scheel and was delighted." But he was still puzzled about Dogmatik. "After three hours [I] did not understand Haring."22 Slowly the Fraulein helped him improve his German conversation, and he was able to make more friends and join in informal meetings with the professors and students. Professor Haring presided at one such gathering, and Jim brags a little about his temperance: "The students all sit around a table with beer, cigars and water—note this last as it is quite unusual at such an occasion—and hand in questions to the Prof, and a discussion follows" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, July 7, 1907). There was a strain to his life here in Tubingen, excepting his interludes with Miss Partridge and Miss Eckols et al., that began to eat away at his health. He naturally possessed great nervous energy that needed a constructive outlet. He was determined to master theology, and at the same time week after week he added to the growing list of outside reading in the notebook he had begun in Edinburgh. The stress of his work, the loneliness of being in the midst of people whom he barely understood, and the confining style of student life began to have a physical affect on him. He found it difficult to digest regular meals, and throughout June and July he often subsisted on a diet of bread and milk. He decided to play tennis regularly, in order to benefit from proper exercise. But tennis tended to aggravate his knee, which he may have damaged when climbing in the mountains of Craig while in Scotland.23 Beginning in Tubingen, a dark cloud of illness began to build up over Jim McClure, which he would be unable to shake off for many years. He decided with hindsight that perhaps the strain of trying to push himself academically, plus the personal problems any young man faces, plus all his difficulties in adjusting to Germany added up to a damaging burden. Jim McClure did not possess an academic temperament; he was a man of action who believed that theory was useful as a starting reference, but had to be followed up in a practical way for courage and persistence to achieve results. A man's youth, however long it may last, needs to be a testing time, where one probes the limits of endurance and capacity. Jim McClure discovered at Tubingen that he had limits. He found it hard to be happy without friends. He discovered, eventually, that he could learn a great deal from study but could never lose touch with life and become completely absorbed in books. The magic of the man was his ability to inspire people with his personal attributes, from street urchins in Edinburgh, to chance acquaintances on the street, to the loyal cadre of friends he maintained throughout his life. People in the flesh, not in the abstract, inspired him to selflessness and Christlike acts. And although he was eventually able to stretch his understanding in order to master the thorniest of intellectual difficulties, academic pursuits rarely provided him with as much spiritual lift and inspiration as did personal contact with a single struggling man or woman. In Edinburgh and especially in Germany, the strict academic regimen stifled the more natural interchange among people that he had enjoyed at Yale. His father had warned him that this might be the case, and that he should �82 We Plow God's Fields nonetheless steel himself to the task. But without his friends, Jim found it hard to see much purpose in what he was doing. And so he complained about the "stiffness of German social intercourse."24 Beyond the frustrations of his daily life, Jim McClure was also beginning to grapple with difficult theological questions. In Germany he began to see beyond the cheerfulness of his immature idealism, and to face the rooted depths of human misery. Was the Christian message, perhaps, really a simple crutch, an opiate to soothe the world's pain? He wrote to his mother t h a t " . . . the more I see of the world, the more the surface layer vanishes and the sorrow and burden-bearing and strength underneath become evident" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, July, 1907). Sorrow and inner strength are the stuff of religion, and even though it took him an hour to decipher a single page of each German tome, he was beginning for the first time to face the real religious battles that were raging within the souls of men and women at this time. Fred Henderson, a Scotsman from New College, was one soul with whom he kept in intimate contact during his time in Tubingen. This man's letters were an indication to Jim of his personal gifts, and speak of the intellectual milieu of the period. Fred wrote: I don't suppose you know and perhaps I am making a mistake in telling you but I know you must have better friends and people you love far more than me—still all the same I am going to tell you that there is no one else I know that I love in quite the same way that I love you. You don't feel the same way towards me and I can't expect you to. But Jim man you have got a tremendous power in your personal influence and not only for your own sake but for the sake of all of us whom your life touches you must keep holy, keep close to God. "For their sakes I sanctify myself." . . . We'll have a rare good time in heaven when the wrestling is over .. . (Fred Henderson to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 24, 1907) These two men, like many of their age and class, talked a great deal about healing society; they both were fascinated by the world of the working classes that functioned so close at hand, and yet so out of reach. Fred wrote on his way to an Asian mission field: Dear Jim, I have been looking at the steerage passengers and I think it wouldn't be at all a terrible experience after the first three days . . . Of course I haven't seen the sleeping accommodations or the grub but just watched their games on the cargo hatch and with the Arabs who came aboard to sell things off Suez. The net result of all which discussion about steerage is not that I am to go steerage all the way back or go out of my way to take a special steerage trip but that if the only way to do anything that I ought to do involves travelling steerage then that will rather spice the doing of it than prevent it. (Fred Henderson to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 10, 1907) �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 83 There is a comical aspect to this young missionary peering over the deck at the poorest passengers, but it serves as a poignant reminder of the artificial barriers in this class-ridden society. For all their naivete, young men like Jim McClure and Fred Henderson were seriously uncomfortable with the compartments that limited social intercourse. Fred and Jim were dedicated "self-improvers" as well, and worked out a set of duplicate cards in order to concentrate better on their spiritual battles. Fred suggested an amendment in one letter. "About these duplicate cards of ours: What do you say to inserting for Sunday 'to get rid of self-consciousness.' I think we ... are quite sick of ourselves in that line...." He goes on in his letter to discuss the practice of the Sabbath day, contrasting Jim's more modern and casual approach to the common practices of Scotland: "... [Y]ou don't know the Scotch tradition about Sunday and the feeling that lurks in every Scotchman's heart that he ought to be uncomfortable on Sunday when he is not in church or reading the Bible . . . you are emancipated from all that Jim but I am not sure that I envy you. That dear old Scotch Sunday has got into my blood and qualified by sincerity and humanity it still . . . seems to come nearer the ideal than any other I know" (Fred Henderson to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 10, 1907). From one of Jim's American friends whom he had just seen in Paris, Mary Kay Waller, he received a letter that illustrates once again Jim's powerful influence over people: . . . I feel as if I ought to apologize for the cynical nasty mien I showed in everything that night at Dorothy's . . . I've been working on so many problems, that my mind is settled on a wheel, and instead of facing the real facts fearlessly, I've hidden my defeat in cynicism. Way down deep I do believe in sincerity, in absolute simplicity which is really only the direct expression of the universal in us—of all that is noblest in us-of God . . . Whatever we believe, we can always be honest in living up to the very best in us. That is what you are starting out to do now, Jim, and to think, in your very decision, you have grown—you seemed older . . . more manly the other night—and I am wishing you all the courage, all the strength which it takes to be true to one's highest self . . . I am proud of your friendship. (Mary Kay Waller to James G. K. McClure, Jr., 1907, exact date unknown) One of Jim's closest Skull and Bones friends, Hugh Wilson, sounded the very same theme. Jim McClure, if he did not know anything else, knew that his friends looked to him for advice, and as an example. Hugh Wilson later became the American Ambassador to Nazi Germany, the last before the Second World War. He wrote to Jim McClure in 1907: I have always said that to my knowledge no man had ever influenced my character one way or the other, but now I shall have to take it back and say that I am a decidedly better man for having had that talk with you. Not so much better, as changed, having a greater pleasure in things beautiful, in music �84 We Plow God's Fields and poetry that I had been gradually shutting off from myself by a wall of materialistic selfishness . . . You see, Jimmie it was the sight of you and analysis of how high and spiritual thinking combined with unselfish living had changed the boy fond of the good things of life into a man of reason and power that set me to realizing how little my nature had grown in the same period of time, and how small was a spiritual increase compared to the intellectual of the last year. Thank you, Jimmie for all such realizations and let me believe that this will help a little to heal up the pain in your heart that I saw you carrying away from Paris with you. (Hugh Wilson to James G. K. McClure, Jr., May 13, 1907) John Magee, who became a missionary to China and who had served with Jim as class deacon at Yale, echoed Hugh Wilson's comments: "Hugh said last night that you had had a tremendous influence on him, more so than any other man. The change that had come over you was so wonderful. He said he had gotten more materialistic before he saw you than ever before in his life . . . It certainly was a splendid tribute" (John Magee to James G.K. McClure, Jr., June 19, 1907). These letters were heady praise for a young theological student, and must have encouraged Jim enormously during a difficult period of his life. Surely his friends were telling him that his chosen field matched his gifts. He finished the term at Tubingen, leaving on July 20 with a diploma inscribed for one "Jacobus McClure." He then met up with John Magee and Lee Perrin, their class orator, for a tour of Europe. He sent his trunks on to Paris and carried a few belongings in a small canvas sack, a gypsy traveller once again. He made his first visit to Worms to pay homage to Martin Luther, the man who had changed the history of the West and shaped the Christian views of Jim's Scottish ancestors. John Magee arrived in Paris in a dismal frame of mind, dampening the impulsive spirits of the other two. The three of them meandered about Switzerland, lazily absorbing the scenery from Lucerne to Geneva. Then, for a brief period, Jim left his friends and made a breathless tour of northern Italy. This was typical of his constant push to get the maximum dosage of sights and sounds. He rejoined them in Paris and departed for Chicago in mid-September, 1907. The remaining years of Jim's seminary career involved learning the rudiments of his trade. The faculty of McCormick Seminary trained him in all phases of Presbyterian theology, church history, apologetics and the meaning of the Gospel. He wrote sermons, and tried to deliver them properly. He wrote papers on social and ethical questions, including one on the world of the Chicago saloon. In 1909, Jim was ready to return again to Germany, and studied there at the universities in Jena and Berlin. He was now comfortable with the habits of scholarship, and understood great chunks of the philosophical masters, in both German and English. �Europe: Edinburgh and Tubingen 85 1. Norwich Evening Record, September 27, 1906. 2. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 3. Ibid. 4. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Social Crisis," sermon given March 22, 1914, Iron River, Michigan. 5. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 6. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Social Crisis," sermon given March 22, 1914, Iron River, Michigan. 7. The cards were found in a scrapbook kept by James G. K. McClure, Jr. 8. Edinburgh diary, March 1, 1907. 9. Ibid., March 22, 1907. 10. Ibid., Feb. 22, 1907. 11. Ibid.t various entries. 12. Ibid. 13. Ibid. 14. Ibid. 15. Marcus Dods, closing address, Edinburgh, March 1907. 16. This diploma is among the papers of James G. K. McClure, Jr. 17. Diary entry, July 18, 1907. 18. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 19. Ibid. 20. Diary, various entries. 21. Diary, no date. 22. Diary, no date. 23. Diary, June 7, 1907. 24. Edinburgh diary, March 23, 1907. �Chapter Six Unsystematic Theology . . . Here lies the danger of every young man—that he will make a choice which will stunt him, will dwarf him, will choke down all these high yearnings of his youth and will land him at fifty high and dry and wizened with parched tongue on some sandy, hot island, while the heroes of the race have safely gone on far beyond. (James G. K. McClure, Jr., untitled sermon written while attending McCormick Seminary 1908) My religious views are so different from [the] Presbyterian that I doubt of the board's accepting me. (Letter to L. B. [Lucy Blair?], November 21, 1909) I must devote more time in the morning to prayer—to fixing in my mind the reality and omnipresence of God . .. Matter is so near; the interest in details . . . so absorbing; pleasure is ... so alluring; the seen world is so explainable and seemingly sufficient that unless I start out in the morning by fixing in my mind the deeper interpretationthe seeing of God in everything—1 am apt to lose him altogether .. . (Liverpool journal, 1909, undated entry) Last Sunday evening I visited a Pietist Hour—you know of the Pietist movement—and I was very much impressed. The German theology needs a good airing and hanging on the line and beating . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, end of July, 1907) In the autumn of 1909, Jim McClure found himself for a second time steaming across the Atlantic for Europe. The conviviality and adventure of an ocean voyage gave Jim great opportunities to make friends and discuss the issues of the day, but he was not returning for pleasure. Instead, he was trying to rediscover the theological glimpses he had seen before, and find out if they held answers to his questions. He was dissatisfied with the conventional doctrines of McCormick Seminary, and he had not forgotten how his intellect had been stirred and challenged in Edinburgh and Tubingen before. Now he needed to go back to Germany, where a new and disturbing theology was being formulated. Already the American Social Gospel movement, which made service to one's fellow man the criterion of one's religion, was influential in Jim McClure's theology. But he wanted to know why a man should devote his life to such service. What was the compelling drive of Christianity? He was simply dissatisfied with the traditional catechism of responses. He felt he must probe 86 �Unsystematic Theology 87 deeply for himself. He sought ideas that would send him with abandon into battle, with a fierce determination and reckless confidence that could upset the lethargic world around him. Jim McClure dreamed heroic dreams of a conquering youth who with logic and energy might sweep away the evils inherited from the past. It was a posture he would never abandon, although the experiences of life would temper his energy and increase his wisdom. As he plunged into his studies he was at first overjoyed, and wrote in his journal: Never, in all my life, until this fall have I been able honestly to thank God for anything for I had never been thankful for my existence. I am now beginning to realize what it means to exist—an incomparable thing . . . It is like a small boy gaining admittance to a circus tent and there is no comparison with the outside—and I would lie on my belly on the tent ropes, or perch under the tiers of seats or lie on my face under the tent skirts-simply for the fact of figuring among those present.. .l In this enthusiastic frame of mind he began to dig out the answers to his religious questionings, to find a theology that inspired action. It hardly seems possible that the Yale sports buff and gay blade of only three years before could write in his notebook, "If a man is to study theology he should master Thomas Aquinas and the Aristotelian logic . . . He should grind his nose on the Scholastic grindstone."2 This intelligent young man, fired with an inborn determination to serve his fellow men, was about to run head on into the great controversies that marked off modern Protestant thinkers from conservatives in 1909. On what authority could answers to the problems of existence be based? Was the Bible the holy, inspired word of God, or was it simply a random collection of ancient documents, full of wisdom but carrying no supernatural authority and meaningful only in its historical context? Was Jesus divine or simply a man of outstanding compassion and nobility after whom men could pattern their lives? Could a man ask a personal God in prayer to intercede on his or anyone's behalf, or was such hope the folly of presumption? Was a belief in immortality essential to Christian doctrine? Where could a Christian fit in the new scientific explanations of the world? Science and religion seemed to be deadlocked in a struggle for men's minds. Was man's sinful action a grief to God and a cause for guilt to the man who had sinned? Or was sin only an expected, and therefore acceptable, falling short of the ideal? Armed with the logic and reason of the pedagogues of Jena and Berlin, Jim joined with his German mentors in questioning the core concepts of Christianity. After studying the work of two orthodox theologians Jim wrote in his notebook, "Seeberg and Kaftan emphasize again and again that theology has as its one ground the Bible and ethics has as its main ground the Bible. This is as conservative theology must hold to—but however gallant it may be to remain on the sinking ship—there comes a time when it is better to row calmly ashore."3 The �88 We Plow God's Fields "shore" he rowed to was the firm ground, so he thought, of the scientific method, so widely acclaimed as the solution to all questions in the early twentieth century. Scepticism, logical reasoning, controlled data, hypotheses and conclusions were helping to unlock many of the great mysteries of the physical universe. To many people it seemed that religion, which was often attended by tradition and superstition, blocked the march of scientific truth. While studying in Scotland, Jim had been much impressed by a book written by a Scottish minister, Henry Drummond, called Natural Law and the Spiritual World. Drummond outlined a plan for using scientific law in personal Christian development. One instance was the theory that a spirit, like a plant, begins to decay if it is not growing. Jim felt it was possible to end what he considered the fruitless struggle for supremacy in the battle for human progress between the devotees of religion and those of science. He wanted to bring the two great forces together; to maintain his belief in reason and the scientific method while enlisting the powerful theological arguments that would move humanity closer to a world of perfection, to the Kingdom of God on earth.4 As he continued to question Christian tenets, Jim demythologized Jesus Christ in the same fashion that he cut through the authority of the Bible. He asked himself the question, was Jesus unique, different from the rest of man? Writing in his journal, he replied: . . . modern thought answers in the negative—for to help us, Christ must have lived as we did; must have been one of us—and modern thought has no use for a God who is out of touch with the world . . . When we come to the Divinity of Christ—I do not see that believing Christ divine has advantages while believing him human has great advantages. The work supposed to have been done by the divine Christ—forgiving sins and presenting eternal life-we no longer look at as done in this way. God should not need to send his son to show his interest in the world and in each individual... The death of a holy man caused by sin, would strike the lowest note in our scale of values—and the divine element added could strike no deeper note. Here then the last advantage of attributing divinity to Christ vanishes. To make such a lot of the acceptance or non-acceptance of the belief that Christ is the Son of God seems absurd because it is merely a figure of speech, an analogy. It is only in humanity that we know anything of a relation between Father and Son—and we are simply using this human analogy in connection with God. We have no reason to think, that God has a "Son"—we simply mean that God seemed to be in an especially close relation . .. that the nearest men of his day could come to describing it was to say it was the relation of Father to Son.5 One might want to ask Jim the question, if Jesus Christ was a mere man, what is there to preach? After reading several rather contradictory entries in his journal, I believe he would have vehemently objected to the adjective "mere," �Unsystematic Theology 89 and carefully reapplied "divine" to describe Jesus as he did on one page from his Berlin notebook. But by saying that Christ is not God I do not say he is not divine, or [that he is] a mere man. I say he is not God simply because the word God represents a being of powers and of an existence which Christ does not claim to have and of which he has no need of being. Christ was certainly more than a mere man—to call him mere man does injustice to his character—therefore I use the word divine. Here comes out a great deal of misunderstanding about words. As far as I can see there are two possibilities. Christ was a mere man or more than a mere man—a or b, but b I call divine. (I believe that people who call him a mere man but a perfect man . .. stand on the same ground.) Christ is not God, and never assumes that he is-always distinguishing himself and God—for God (as the word means to me) expresses both the character and Being of God whereas Christ claims only to represent his character .. .6 Here one can see Jim trying to stake out new theological ground for his "modern" Christianity, but reluctant to throw out the terminology that had served the church so well. In his use of words like "divine" he forced the language, redefining words so that he could continue to use the traditional religious vocabulary. In a moment of honesty, he looked forward to being able to dump the whole load of archaic Christian terminology. He wrote: "The next great convulsion of society will be a revolt against language. It is absurd to suppose that a language formed when man's idea of himself and nature were primitive can content the man with a more definite knowledge of himself... ."7 But Jim was doing more than stretching the meaning of words. He was trying to reconcile what was thought to be a scientifically determined universe with the Christian religion. He was always a forthright thinker who asked direct questions and expected from himself and others an honest response. Knowledge for him would always be based on reason. Facts were to be laid out straight, and firm conclusions drawn from the evidence. Thus he was puzzled when one of his professors, Herr Weniberg, postulated that scientific sceptics were able to question, to peel back the layers of truth, until the whole philosophical basis for any knowledge was destroyed. Facing such existentialism, Jim pondered in his notebook: Is knowledge possible? This question is forced upon me by the uncertainty of my relation to the external world. I must investigate and see what this relation is and if knowledge at all is possible, for knowledge is the basis of my action . . . I think I perceive a thing-but when I investigate I find that the thing is to me colored, hot, hard, etc., i.e. that it is only its qualities that I perceive and these qualities only exist in my consciousness . . . The thing itself I cannot discover-its nature is absolutely unknowable. Does the thing externally exist then? All that I think I know of it I find to be a product of my own consciousness .. . What proof have I that my knowl- �90 We Plow God's Fields edge even of this subjective world is true—that the logical forms under which I try to formulate it are true? None. And then he wrote, "I am simply convinced."* And convinced he remained, although these thoughts may have disturbed him deeply at the time. No American devotee of pragmatism could be dragged into an intellectual hole of nihilistic despair for long. The Texas bronco-buster would not dwell on the essential nature of a pin stuck in his hand, debating whether the pain was real or subjective. He had larger questions on his mind. His younger brother Arch, to whom he was very close, was at Yale, thinking of entering the ministry himself. The two young theologians enjoyed a rich correspondence. Jim replied to Arch in one of his letters from Germany, I am glad you sent the questions . . . In the first place in all my answers remember two things. First-that I do not know any more about these things than you do—except as I have thought more about them—and Secondly—no other man who ever lived does either. We have to decide things each for ourselves and we [have] as good a chance at solving them as Solomon. One thing we always must be—that is—we must be honest in our thinking; and no matter how true other people say a thing is, if it is not true for us we must never say it is true for us. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, Fall, 1909) Jim's Covenanter ancestors might have argued with him over his modern ideas, but his sense of personal integrity and tenacity in the defense of his beliefs would have struck a sympathetic cord. He wrote in the same letter: "Why did God make the world? Which I can not answer nor can anyone else . . . we must not think of God as creating the world out of nothing, i.e. saying Presto and there the world is ... I do not think of God as making the world— but of God as existing and so the world necessarily existing, too." Perhaps it is unfair to take such scraps from Jim's notebook and letters, presenting only a cursory view of his answers to these questions. But it is important to understand some of the thoughts that were troubling him. Jim continued in his letter to Arch: Your 2nd question—is why God made the first mortals so imperfect that they sinned? The answer follows partly out of my answer to the first. We think of God as the infinite and perfect being. Now as the existence of the world follows naturally from the existence of God so it must be perfect. For out of perfection only perfection could follow and God is not limited by anything. You see the way I have always judged the world before recently is this—I have myself set a standard and when the world and men fall short of it I have said . .. they sin ... I used to condemn [the world] because it fell below my idea of what it was meant for—Now I say that I do not know just what God's �Unsystematic Theology 91 purpose is but the world as it is must be perfect. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, Fall, 1909) A naturally perfect world is a beautiful proposition, but Jim McClure was quick to condemn much of what went on in it. He, along with many others of his optimistic generation, was tempted to follow the lead of thinkers like Hegel and Marx, believing that mankind was progressing, evolving, towards a harmonious and perfect world. Darwin's theories implied that biology was moving from a simple state, a primitiveness, to complexity, towards a more perfect adaptation to the environment. As Jim concluded his letter with a firm statement of his belief he moved further and further from the concept of a personal God and closer to the rather ethereal notion of a spirit moving in all things. Yet he was firm in his belief in a God of some sort. An atheist is either irrational or insane. No man who looks at the world and man honestly and clearly can deny that there is a power behind things which is superhuman. We call it by many names: "the Great First Cause," the "Absolute," the unknowable . . . And the progress that this power has wrought out during the last 100,000 years is incomprehensible. From the brute to man, from savage, barbarian, from primitive to civilized man—until we feel that some day we shall be as gods. The reason we hear the outcry that mankind is growing worse is that the crier has tied his eyes to the moment and to the backward or stagnant or outworn tendencies of the present—such a pessimistic utterance is silly in the extreme. The world, and man cannot help advancing. And advance has now become so rapid that we can see it with the naked eye.9 If progress appeared inevitable to Jim, he never thought it would be automatic. Our species, in his view, must struggle for every inch of collective improvement. That brings me to the historical appearance and development of man. The Genesis account is the way the wandering Hebrews thought men were created and started on their development. Today we think a little differently. In the process of the upward development the animals appeared and then the animal man and he kept developing. To develop man must struggle and keep struggling to develop this nature in him . .. The nature of man demands that in every choice, he choose right. This [is] man's free will. The idea of sin is one which was brought in by people . . . who thought God's plan was that no one should ever fall short of their better nature . . . and so when they fell short they said . . . you have sinned . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Arch McClure, Fall, 1909) He explained his understanding of personal sin this way: If man is to progress he must have an ideal and if his ideal is sufficiently high, if it is higher than his attainments, he must at various moments fall short �92 We Plow God's Fields of its realization. For these acts of omission and commission—these fallings short—he should feel sorry but not letting them discourage him, he must press on again toward the goal . . . Our relation to our ideal is forming our character—and the long and persistent striving toward the ideal creates in us a character that is, as virtue, its own reward.10 By trying to soften the sting of sin, and thus minimizing the burden of guilt, Jim lost the powerful image of a divine Father sorrowing over his lost children. He admitted as much in his notebook.11 But he felt it was important to lead people toward attainable ideals rather than have them dragged backwards by being constantly reminded of their failures. He was constructing his cosmos by radically departing from the traditional Christian view, moving, like many other theologians of the era, out into the borderlands between Christianity and pantheism. The pantheist sees God less as a personality or mind, and more as an essence that pervades all of reality. In most forms of pantheism, all matter, all nature, is indistinguishable from God. Jim wrote in his notebook while trying to sort out these conflicts: "That brings me to ... believe in a God who permeates and is the Universe .. . But it is a personal pantheism—which although a contradiction of terms expresses my meaning. God comes into relation to me in everything . . . Father, mother, friends, acquaintances, things I see, handle, this pen with which I write-everything in fact."12 But if God permeates all creation, and is the universe, how can evil exist? What becomes of personal sin when each person is a part of the God-essence? Even as Jim was pondering all these perplexing questions with the intention of becoming a Christian leader, he was also questioning the institution of the church. Martin Luther, whom he greatly admked, attacked the Catholic church for, among other things, acting as a barrier to the personal relationships between men and their Creator. Now the time had come, Jim thought, to extend the theological frontiers of personal freedom once again. He feared that the modern Protestant denominations were once again damming up struggling humanity's communication with the Diety. A blurring of God's personality and the need for each person to work out his or her own salvation with only an impersonal essence places a heavy load on the strength and accuracy of the individual conscience. While recovering from a knee operation with his relations in Liverpool, Jim wrote in his journal: My creed—as I hastily write it out—is something like this—and I find it differs very much from the creeds behind most of the sermons that I hear. I believe that there is an intelligent power outside myself—which I will call God. The universe is an expression of God and every single thing that happens to me each day, whether it be from nature, from human beings or in my thought realm—is God expressing himself to me. All these things constitute my relation to God, which will thus be seen to be a personal and uninterrupted one (comprising everything which happens to me, which I do, or that I think.) �Unsystematic Theology 93 The purpose working out in the Universe and in me in particular is beneficient [sic.]. [This purpose] I call the Will of God. The working out of this purpose is the very best thing for us as a race and as individuals —in fact in no other way can we answer the end of our existence, i.e. be happy. It is therefore the best thing for us as a race and individuals to do the Will of God. Our only means of doing the Will of God . . . is to follow unreservedly the dictates of our conscience enlightened by as much education as is possible . . . (We are never able to see far ahead into the program of the eternal purpose—for us all that is possible is to see a step at a time—but we can always see this one step.) . .. Believing that God is good, I am confident that if I do His Will, everything that happens to me will be the very best thing for me. This includes weather . . . all relations of Nature to me ... all words spoken to me, all chance acquaintances, accidents, disappointments—in fact everything that happens to me. "All things work together for good to him that loves the Lord All these things become expressions of God to me-it is impiety to fear anything that may happen to me in the Universe and it is impiety to complain of or seek to elude anything . . . for which I am not personally responsible.13 Although Jim did not consider the Bible infallible, he did see it as a great source of inspiration and help, a record of men and women struggling to understand the source and purpose of life. So Jim McClure concluded that "Nothing in the Bible is true for the mere reason that it is in the Bible . . . But the authoritative value of the Bible lies herein that it speaks deeply and truly to the conscience."14 Here was a young man who believed in action, but was trying desperately to understand the roots of Christian belief in a modern setting. In the process he dove into the murky philosophical waters that have drowned many a young idealist. Rigorous academic pursuits and Jim McClure would never become comfortable companions, yet in the fall of 1909 he felt a sense of progress in his efforts to cope with the esoteric thoughts of theology and philosophy. His self-imposed regime of long nights of study had overcome most of the academic deficiencies first noted by Marcus Dods of Edinburgh three years before. Moreover, he had mastered the German language, both as a scholar and in the tea rooms. He now found himself plunging into the philosophical abyss, trying to formulate a comprehensive theology that would give him the freedom and confidence to go out into the world and act, and at the same time dovetailed with his sense of pragmatism. In his later life, of all of his beliefs, he felt most certain that nothing could be more debilitating than knowledge without action. There must have been a subconscious undertow, even here in Germany, that all of his study, all of his time and energy pursuing academic goals, might be quite useless to him later on. Such a cross-current might have added to his sense of strain during this time. He wrote in his notebook: In talking with the students of Philosophy here . . . They seem to think that Psychology and Philosophy are ends in themselves whereas they exist and �94 We Plow God's Fields should be studied and taught simply to enable a man to act more wisely and rightly. The proper business of men is acting, doing. And these men who can talk glibly of the different schools and viewpoints of philosophy and can logically maintain, fairly well, a certain system—and yet do not realize that the proper business of philosophy is to better the actions of men, have not begun to know what they are about; they are interested and entangled merely in forms as were the sophists in the day of Socrates and do not even know that they are ignorant . . . Descartes's quote should be "I act therefore I am ..." [Instead of "I think, therefore I am."]15 Berlin University marked the end of Jim's seminary training, and it was there that his theological views began to germinate a confident and distinctive view of man, his Deity and the condition in which he is found in this world. His views contrasted sharply with his father's, allowing Jim the sense of independence a young man needs. For three years he had thrashed about in the theology of the day, questioning, evaluating and making tentative solutions. In Berlin, an order grew out of the conflicts, a balance that fitted with Jim's sense of reality. At Berlin, the culmination of his education was a powerful, almost mystical sense of discovering the Truth. His friends and family followed him along in his discovery, especially his father, who never found it difficult to discuss such matters with his son. He decided to write to his father a letter on prayer. "Warn Father that his letter is temporarily in dry dock at the 41st page," he wrote to his mother (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, July 1909). The letter was not only a summary of his new vision, but also a declaration of independence. In 1902, Jim's father had published a book entitled Intercessory Prayer: A Mighty Means of Usefulness. It is a serious step for a son to reject a central tenet of a loved and revered father. Perhaps that is why Jim's letter ran on so long— seventy-two pages. In essence, Jim explained in this epistle that he did not believe in the usefulness of intercessory prayer. "God's will towards his creatures is perfect," he wrote, "and therefore cannot be increased by a prayer of man's." He felt that " . . . the whole content of prayer is in the expressing of our yearnings, hopes, purposes and desires to God, and in his presence correcting what errors have crept in, 'what flaws may lurk'" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr., August 22, 1909). One such "lurking flaw" took Jim to his knees in prayer. Being twenty-five, and living in the near monastic conditions of the university of that day, besides being very handsome and attractive, Jim naturally enjoyed the friendship and even adulation of many young women. For most of September 1909, he was incapacitated after a serious knee injury. With typical exuberance, he had leaped over a tennis net to congratulate his opponent, only to find himself unable to walk, and suffering from terrible pain. He had torn a ligament, breaking the blood vessel that passed through his knee. Blood filled up the knee cavity, making it stiff and very sore. When it failed to improve, he went to stay with some Dixon relatives in Liverpool, and had an operation. �Unsystematic Theology 95 Recuperating in the household of his "Cousin Lilly," he found himself surrounded, in his helpless state, by a number of kind and adoring young women. One of them wrote to Jim's parents afterwards, "I made i t . . . my study to surround him with comforts and am constantly devising fresh plans which I think will help his amusement" (Jim's nurse to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure and James G. K. McClure, Sr., name illegible, no date). His parents visited him in England at this time, and his mother especially seemed much concerned about his health. Perhaps she sensed that his mental state was not easy. Jim's father wrote to him: During all our married life I have never seen your mother cry so much and so hard as when she held your flowers in her hand, kept her eye upon Liverpool where she was leaving you and let her grief find its relief in tears . . . Surely you have been blessed with a good mother and whatever experiences of disappointment in humanity you may have, her beautiful spirit is to be your life-long comfort. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., September 1, 1909) After a month of being surrounded by comforting lady friends, Jim trudged sadly back to Germany. Back in Berlin, he attempted to befriend "an innocent German girl," inviting her to go somewhere with him. He was flattened by her rejection, and in the evening wrote with a penitent tone that "We cannot act the same everywhere that was right at the nursing home and all right at Cousin Lilly's where I was known—but not here. The woman was right to refuse."16 The little incident lay heavily on his mind, and he composed this prayer soon afterwards: Oh God—Forgive me that so often I have let impure thoughts creep into my mind and dwell there—and not made a more spirited effort to throw them out. Enable me to act toward every woman that I meet or am thrown near in the whirling vortex of this great city as I would have my mother and sisters acted toward—remembering that the courtesy of a stranger must differ from that of an acquaintance . . . Impure thoughts . . . soon allow me to do the questionable thing, to do something or say something not because it is right or necessary but because it ... has the added zest of a little impure excitement. Help me Oh God this winter in this great city and alone . . . 17 As well as striving to give his best to his studies, Jim strained to realize ideal behavior, to achieve the perfection of a complete harmony with the purposes of the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe. In that pursuit, he honestly tried to admit his failures. No matter how taboo a subject might be, he wanted to expose it to the light of reason with the detached air of the scientist. Nothing should be allowed to remain in the shadows, gathering superstitions and misconceptions like dust in a cobweb. The Victorian bugaboo of sex he treated with a remarkable frankness, all the while trying to maintain an ideal attitude. In his Berlin journal he wrote: �96 We Plow God's Fields Knowing only of the young man's problems, I should say that the most difficult problem the young man has to solve is his relations to women—the keeping of his ... actions, his motives and thoughts pure. This problem too I should say to be the fundamental one of Society—as long as we are under earthly conditions these two classes of beings, males and females, will exist. And seek to hide the problem we do, speak of it in undertones or not at all; ignore it; cover it up etc., it keeps popping its head up and I am deceived unless history shall find that it is the fundamental whetstone of human existence. In young men it takes all sorts of forms running up the scale from the mad, blind rush for sexual intercourse with any young woman and at any price, thru the more refined gratifications of the passions, through impure and smutty talk, impure thoughts and here rising to a higher plane, but still the same basis, the thought of marriage as the "sunnum bonum," [highest good] not looking beyond it, the filling of the mind with the thought and talk of marriage and thus closing the mind to any higher ideal than a happy marriage . . ,18 And later in Liverpool he added: The reason for sexual morality is that a man can not scatter his affections and have deep and true affections for any one person. For this reason, the man who in his youth has scattered his affections will not have deep enough feelings for his wife to enable him to carry through the sacrifices that true married life means and will mean. The man who holds aloof is building the foundations deep and strong for the love of one woman.19 If the most difficult battle of the young man is his relationship to women, worries over career choice must rank a close second. In 1909, Jim felt the call to serve mankind as a Christian, but he was questioning his earlier idea of going to the mission field in China. Clearly Spinoza and Hegel would not be much use. Such thinking, which influenced Jim and many of his well-educated, modern contemporaries, chilled the fire and zeal needed to convert the Chinese "heathens." He wrote to his college roommate and childhood friend Horace Ferry: I cannot imagine on what ground I could ever have a reasonable longing to go to China unless it were arrant adventure which we outgrew at 12 years . . . [A]s to trying to take our forms of theology to China, that I consider absurd . . . And as for this pitying wail that goes up and the mentioning of the hardships well as you say life is pretty much a scrap anyway and we might as well fight it out where the thing is thickest and we will have to take our gloves off ... [Life] only lasts 3 score years and ten, and [what a waste] if we wear Jaeger underwear 4 score and . . . are not winded yet nor sweating . . . 20 Jim sought neither arrant adventure nor warm underwear to insulate him from the battles of life. He dreamed of becoming a great leader of men, and he did not expect it to be easy. Realizing that God had given him extraordinary �Unsystematic Theology 97 powers of influence and persuasion, he struggled to conquer even small weaknesses and become a model of Christian ethics. Keeping a close watch on his actions he confessed his failings to his Lord: Oh God! .. . [I]nstead of loving display, putting myself forward, seeing to be noticed, being loud or eager in speech, and bent on having my own way . . . help me to be content, nay, to rejoice in being made little of, to perform what to the flesh are servile offices . . . not to argue, not to judge, not to pronounce censure . . . Oh God . . . increase my humility . . . forgive me for striving so for the good opinion of others, for aiming at effect; for thinking too much of my personal appearance—and above all—to which I am a slave—to little deceits, in expression and act, by which I plan to raise myself in the opinion of others He had read Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography when he was laid up with his knee, and he was an enthusiastic believer in the old patriarch's theories on the ability of individuals to control their habits. Many scholars think that Franklin wrote with tongue in cheek to cash in on the American fascination for self-improvement, but Jim McClure took Franklin at his word. He was always looking for ways to improve himself, and jotted down these notes after witnessing a "heated discussion between two ear-splitting Germans": The cock-sure and assertive attitude that many people, especially men, have is an attitude which hinders communion of spirit, rouses unconscious hostility, is the opposite of persuasive, keeps the owner of the attitude from further enlightenment, is apt to lead him in to absurd positions and is on the whole an attitude more suited to a bar room than a home . . . Benjamin Franklin's idea was better. He found this assertive method in discussion not so valuable as the humbler, so he dropped such words as "absolutely," "without a doubt," and substituted "It appears to me" and "I consider" etc. Neither does loudness of talking seem so effective as a regulated pitch.22 On his own, Jim discovered the best way to draw out a stranger, to charm him from his isolation. He had mastered this technique, and it is wonderful to see his humor in the midst of all of his serious philosophizing: What a man carries in his pockets, how he carries his money, what sort of a hat he wears, what he likes for breakfast... how he keeps up his socks, the way in which he likes to recreate, whether it be to talk, to read, to ride, to run, to sleep, how he sits when by himself, with shoes on or slippers, how many hours he sleeps, these are all of great interest to a man, his dog, his horse, his knick-knacks in his house, especially if he has some pet little thing made, or labor-saving device invented by himself, his garden, his chickens, on all these things will a man warm up, especially perhaps on the dare-devil pranks of his youth.23 �98 We Plow God's Fields As he developed his personal gifts, Jim also struggled to create for himself a powerful new vision of what his service to humanity ought to mean. And his answer continued to harp on the heroic, a self-perfecting model of personal sacrifice. After absorbing the philosophy of Spinoza, he was plainly becoming a theological elitist. He questioned all theological systems and formulas, and cast the bulk of humanity, who accept the current view of life without questioning, into the role of the mindless. Jim was determined to find his own system. He was sure that his education, and intellectual quest for honest truth, had raised his religious sensibilities way above those of most men and women. He refused to compromise his sharp critique of the Christian church. Being an idealist, he saw around him little evidence of a world being redeemed by the sacrifice of the Son of God. He drew away from his earlier optimistic view that the world was rapidly improving. Has Christianity been such a great success as it is sometimes spoken of as being? Take a rapid survey of it at present . . . we could scarcely call South America, Russia, Spain and Italy Christian countries . .. with our Protestant ideas . .. We must hesitate to brand France and Germany Christian countries. England, Scotland and North America seem to have more religion than any [other] country, yet the existence [of] drink, war, discontent, worry, restless striving for money, class divisions, will not warrant us in calling these Christian countries . . . There must be something wrong with the religion which has made such slow progress. Impurities must have become mixed with it.24 Then he writes on a more positive note: Whether I believe in God or not my words do not show truly, only my life. I have met a few people whom I can plainly see believe in God . . . some people really have believed in God enough to give their whole lives, their money, their home, their friends and everything to Him . . . All philosophical, theological, scientific discourses, proofs and writings concerning religion I believe to be merely concerning the outworks of Christianity and to be of comparatively little worth. The only unanswerable argument for Christianity is a Christian life. And it is the one persuasive and influential argument. In my life the arguments for Christianity that have really affected me are Christian lives—Mother, Father, Dr. Dods, Fred Henderson, and John Magee.25 In spite of his theological differences with his father, Jim certainly felt a deep admiration for him, and thought his example was worthy of emulation. But once more he described his discomfort with the status quo: What makes me doubt religion is the way it is lived—so many professors of religion and so much preaching of love of one's neighbor and the good Samaritan—and yet the brotherhood of man, nothing but a phrase, no reality in it—men everywhere striving for themselves . . . the brotherhood of man seems ages o f f . . . How the love of humanity and battleships come into the same scheme is �Unsystematic Theology 99 absolutely ununderstandable to me . . . The patriotism which limits one's neighbors to the inhabitants of one's own land and sees in every other nation a possible and already armed enemy is un-Christian. How can an Englishman cherish at first sight the feeling of love for a German with a subconscious knowledge on both sides that each is armed to the teeth? How can the universal brotherhood of man come when each nation looks out of its own feathered nest over a fringe of guns and pikes?26 Five years later, a gruesome answer to Jim's question came as the Great War bled Europe of its vision and vitality. He felt such a natural affinity for people, with all of their idiosyncracies and problems, that he truly was baffled by die powerful forces of hate that seemed to divide nations and set people at each other's throats. What about the brotherhood of man? Was it just a pretty idea? Jim knew better. Of one thing he was sure, that the moral idea of Christianity can best be seen in a person's life rather than in any doctrine he might hold. He remained convinced that all theology was of little use unless it transformed people, and unless it contained the power to use a man like him to change others. What Jim hoped to find in theology was not so much a neat intellectual solution that pleased his sense of order, but a powerful, motivating vision that could sweep people together into action, giving their lives purpose and meaning. Jim was sure that meaning in life came more out of doing something positive than out of believing the right dogmas. Christianity had been a powerful force in history when it inspired people to sacrifice themselves for spiritual ends. Jim wanted to weld this Christian spirit to the progressive historical forces he felt gathering strength around him. But as he prepared to go back to the United States and seek out a place to serve and lead his fellow men, a serious problem was developing for him. His health was going seriously awry. Indigestion and severe headaches were beginning to plague him. Was his demanding philosophy of self-sacrifice and perfectionism to blame, or perhaps his rebellion against the tenets of the church and his father? Or was he just exhausted by too many late nights of study, neglect of physical exercise, and a hard play schedule when he did take time off to be with Mends? In any event a man who sought the heroic virtues of self-sacrifice and moral action was to spend the next ten years of his life in virtual bondage to his health problems, with only brief periods of reprieve. How did he keep his faith through this long, difficult period? How did he regain his balance and become an instrument of God's purpose? His daughter, Elspeth McClure Clarke, knows that he had gained a deep faith in God's unfailing help by the time she was growing up. Certainly he was no longer trying to achieve his goals unaided. Again and again he stressed to his children and in his sermons, "I can do all things through Christ which strengthened me" (Philippians 4:13). "Fear not, for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest" (Deuteronomy 31:6). "He who doeth the will �100 We Plow God's Fields shall know the doctrine" (John 7:17). Perhaps this was the verse that finally made sense of all the theological conflicts and confusions. The simplicity of Jesus' invitation, "Follow me," would again become clear to him. In all his daughter's recollection he was a vigorously healthy person.27 But for some time after these intense theological studies Jim was not well, and his illness was difficult to diagnose, difficult to treat, and, most of all, difficult to live with. But these years were not wasted, frustrating as they must have been. How often does adversity work to strengthen the characters of great men and women? 1. James G. McClure, Jr., "Berlin Journal," 1909. Most entries in this journal are undated. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Henry Drummond, Natural Law and the Spiritual World. (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1883). 5. Berlin Journal. 6. James G. K. McClure, Jr., from a set of miscellaneous theological papers, 1909. 7. James G. K. McClure, Jr., note written in his notebook on German Psychology, 1909. 8. Ibid., November 29, 1909. 9. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "God," paper written at McCormick Seminary, 1908. 10. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Liverpool notebook, 1909. Most entries in the notebook are not dated. Exceptions are noted. 11. Ibid. The entry reads "one thing I seem to lose—namely the personal sorrow that each sin causes God ..." 12. Miscellaneous theological papers, 1909. 13. Ibid., September 29, 1909. 14. Liverpool notebook. 15. Berlin journal. 16. Liverpool notebook, September 29, 1909. 17. Ibid. 18. Berlin journal. 19. Liverpool notebook, December 18, 1909. 20. Ibid., October 24, 1909. The journal entry appears to a copy of a letter sent to Horace Ferry. 21. Berlin journal, October 27, 1909. Italics in the original. 22. Liverpool notebook, October 1, 1909. 23. Ibid. 24. Liverpool notebook. 25. Miscellaneous theological papers, this section inspired by a walk with John Bailie, June 13, 1909. 26. Liverpool notebook. 27. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. �Chapter Seven Affliction Oh God in whose goodness I try to believe—enable me, as I have come home discouraged and with every hope apparently blighted and with no light at all for the future, to accept this lot in which I am with sturdy cheerfulness and determination. Give to me courage, Oh God, to persist in those ideals and hopes and aims of conduct which I believe to be for the world's good irrespective of the hopelessness in which they seem to involve my own future. Oh God, help me to give Thee a willingness to do and accept whatever is meted out to me ... confident that Thou who inflictest the pain will at the same time and even more surely dole out strength and patience to bear it. Forgive me that my heart has been heavy and even bitter and that I have added to others burdens by talking about my own—And now God, give to me patience to wait and to cause others to wait and courage Oh God how I need it! to persist in believing and acting on the belief that it is grandly and altogether worthwhile to live wholly for Thee— Amen (James G. K. McClure, Jr., personal notebook begun November 1, 1910, entry made May 12, 1911) Jim McClure returned home to Chicago early in 1910, in order to fulfill the requirements for graduation from McCormick Seminary. He graduated in the spring, finishing his formal education at the age of twenty-five. He had had the advantage of a comfortable and stimulating home life, and the educational opportunities of seven institutions of higher learning, including some of the world's most highly renowned. He had met the challenges of Texas, New Haven, Scotland and Germany. He possessed a natural charm and leadership ability, qualities that made him ideally suited for his theological vision. In short, he was a dynamic young man, well-motivated, with the ability to work and to bring energy and enthusiasm to projects. At twenty-five, it was high time for him, according to his own precepts, to act, to put his knowledge to work for the benefit of mankind. Then how to explain the years from 1910 to 1920? The years between twenty-five and thirty-five are often the heart of a successful man's career, and yet Jim McClure spent more time in those years playing golf than preaching his gospel. His only position of responsibility was a ten-month pastorate at the Iron River Presbyterian Church. For the most part, he traveled about visiting friends. He fished in the lakes of Wisconsin, played golf in lavish Santa Barbara, rode burros in Arizona, helped to build his sister Annie's home in Vermont, and 101 �102 We Plow God's Fields made a mad dash around the world on Mrs. Cyrus McCormick's money. He also ushered at numerous weddings. It is a curious interlude in the man's life, and the one firm explanation for what happened is illness. His knee was mending slowly, but it was never a serious obstacle for him. The problems were physical, but with psychological origins. There were the apparent digestive difficulties that first cropped up in Tubingen. But the complaint that sapped his drive involved severe headaches, migraines perhaps. The exact nature of his malady is not discernable, because Jim McClure was never a complainer, and mentioned his problems rarely and without detail. What is more important is how he and his family diagnosed the source of his trouble. Everyone agreed on this point, that Jim McClure suffered from mental strain, overwork, trying to do more than is possible given the circumstances. In November of 1910, Jim's father wrote to him: Our hearts are with you by day and by night. I want you to carry as free a spirit as possible to be such that your mind may be without burden and your body without strain. Let us take it for granted that months must pass before you are in condition to take up the work you desire. In the meantime let us believe that our lives are planned by God and that some wise and helpful result is to be the outcome of these present days . . . Always know, my boy, how precious you are to your mother and me, and how I rejoice in you. Affectionately, Father (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 4, 1910) In retrospect, Jim himself traced the origins of these difficulties back to Edinburgh. Trying to keep up with his daily lessons, piling on extra reading to compensate for his academic gaps, and taking on responsibilities at the settlement house had been more than he could manage. He had allowed for too little relaxation in his life, he surmised. Jim had been determined to test his capacities, to find out just what the powers of his will could accomplish. But the record of his theological years does not indicate that his life was all work and no play. There were all the interludes with his lady friends and the gents of Skull and Bones in Europe. While much of his training took place in the familiar confines of Chicago's McCormick Seminary, perhaps there was an added strain in attending classes where one's father is president. Jim did have a rather restless mind, one that suggested many more worthy projects and deeds than one person can carry out. And he did tend to follow up these notions, throwing himself behind ideas and over-volunteering himself without regard for the limitations of time and energy. He was always happiest when lost in some enterprise or other, and found it difficult to pace himself, to quit rushing long enough to relax, especially during these early years. And yet, only those people who knew him best even noticed these tendencies. He also worked hard to present himself as a relaxed and affable young man. No one ever thought of him as nervous; he rushed on his own time. �Affliction 103 As a young man, Jim McClure imagined the joys of the solitary, simple life, not realizing how ill-suited his temperament was for Thoreau-like contemplation. Just after graduating from seminary, he managed Mrs. Cyras McCormiek's country residence on White Deer Lake, Wisconsin, and during a quiet moment there he wrote: .. . character is the only thing in the world worthwhile .. . and to this end [I should be] guardedly simple. That motor cars, clubs, fine clothes, expensive and luxurious food are things which only seem to have a high value—and but blind us to the simple virtues . . . [They are] not only a great drain on character but a soil in which a great character can hardly grow . . . Let us realize that with simple food, with plain clothes, with quiet retired living—we can best grow in character and our lives will become fuller and we can best serve mankind . . . corn meal mush instead of caviar.1 Jim McClure was a man who appreciated the simple pleasures of life. He would rather wear his coat out, and then ink the worn places, than be stylish. But Jim McClure could never be happy leading a "quiet retired" life, contemplating the activity around him. He was a man of action who would much rather conduct the music than listen to it. There were spiritual links to Jim's afflictions of 1910 that may help to understand them. His belief in a theology of perfection allowed for no relief from his own indiscretions. He would grieve over his faults, feeling quite guilty when his quick mind inflicted a sharp rebuttal to someone else's pet ideas. He wrote in his diary: Oh God . . . Keep me from jumping to conclusions, from thinking that I understand the point of another before he is half thru explaining or even half begun; keep me from nervousness and irritation at what seems to me the obtuseness of people, and the slowness with which they understand, and the slowness with which things happen in the world. Help me Oh God to be calm, and tranquil and very patient with all people and all things and in disappointment and most of all with myself.2 Jim moved home again for brief periods of time, but felt the discomfort of being supported by his family and surrounded by his friends, all of whom were busily organizing their own families and careers. He spent a lot of time with his youngest brother Nathan. The two of them liked to hitch up old Erma to her cart, drive to the lake shore, and go swimming on a hot summer day in Lake Forest. He used to treat Nathan to a day at the ball park, rooting for the Cubs or White Sox. In June of 1910, Jim drove up to Prairie du Chien to usher for Louis Douseman's wedding. Hugh Wilson joined him for the trip, and the two of them would have been quite a vision on the rural roads of Wisconsin in their Packard. The following fall, Jim packed himself off for the Territory of Arizona, �104 We Plow God's Fields =:: • :;:"F?: |;: \j m JimMcClure, Jr., at White Deer Lake, 1910. thinking that the climate there would help to cure him. Foster Rockwell, of "Yale '06 and Skull and Bones," was trying to make it there as a rancher. The dry winter weather of Arizona, along with the physical work of a ranch, held out for Jim much better prospects than being confined at home during the blizzards of Chicago. And besides, he had always enjoyed Foster's companionship, and admired his football prowess as the quarterback for Yale. The Dominie supported the move as well, and made a point of writing his son regularly during this difficult period for him. Dr. McClure understood Jim, knowing that his impetuous temperament was his own worst enemy. He watched his son struggle; he saw his energy and impatience cause great frustrations, and felt the need to caution him about building up unreasonable expectations. �Affliction 105 . . . I often feel how little is accomplished that is actually worthwhile. However, there must have been in Christ's life very many days—and perhaps years, where the advance appeared to be very small, if it could be detected at all. ... Wherever I went in the East affectionate inquiries were made concerning you. You certainly have an abundance of warm and devoted friends who believe in you . . . Keep as free a heart and mind as possible and be a vegetable. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 22, 1910) If matters do not progress by the middle of January, we will try to work out some new scheme. I fancy that you may not be able to do much but virtually loaf for some months to come. I am not at all discouraged about you. We will get the better of this trouble in due time. It is pretty hard on a temperament that likes to act quickly to be obliged to go through this prolonged process of delay, and I feel great sympathy with you in the delay. Still let us expect that in due time patience shall have its perfect work .. . (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 7, 1910) As Christmas approached, the Dominie continued to encourage his son, to look for God's purposes in the present difficulties, and to maintain reasonable expectations for recovery. The word from Drs. Billings and Haven does not discourage me. Mr. David Pagan thinks you are doing as well as could be anticipated and he expects that some further time will elapse before all is right, and then he expects it to be permanently right. . . Mother and I are seeking all possible light as to your immediate future . . . Yesterday I preached in Evanston on the words "God who commanded the light to shine out of darkness." For several years I have been thinking of how God takes the dark periods of our lives and makes them conducive to our good—causing light to spring out of darkness. It is wonderful how many people have been stopped in their desired courses—by hindrances to themselves or their homes—and how later they had reason for thanking God for their dark experiences . . . So let us be brave and hopeful, and walk the pathway of the present as gently as possible, and steady ourselves by believing that the outcome of it will be to the good of God's world. This morning I went to the minister's meeting. Dr. Shailer Matthews of Chicago University made a searching and thorough address on the subject of the religious need of today, and he ended with the idea t h a t . . . the supreme need is in Christian people (so called) denying themselves, taking up their crosses of human helpfulness and living Christ's life of self-sacrifice for one's good. I thought of you and our conversation during the summer, many times as he spoke. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 19, 1910) �106 We Plow God's Fields Between one letter and the next, events back in the McClure home took a surprising turn. A young seminary student had begun to direct his affections towards Jim's older sister Annie. He was in truth determined to pass successfully through the Victorian courtship maze and emerge arm in arm with Annie McClure. The Dominie described the scene at home. As Annie has sent you word a young fellow has appeared on the scene, Dumont Clarke, a Princeton University man, with a partial Seminary career at Auburn and Union, a gentleman and a consecrated man, and it looks as though he had taken Annie and would some day carry her off ... Annie will accompany me to New Haven . . . and then go with me to New York—where she will see Mr. Clarke's family and they will see her. If all then seems favorable, I fancy that an engagement will be the outcome. This is the most sudden and overwhelming thing that has occurred in our family life. It has taken dear Mother off her feet. She has not been able to sleep. At the same time she likes the fellow and feels that the affair is all right—as I do. To think of Annie in such a situation is well nigh ridiculous . . . The fellow is quiet and unassuming—but he went straight at Annie and told her his love, and took her breath away—and I should judge that he has got her. I suppose it devolves on me as the fattier to ask all proper questions of the young man and also about the young man—this I am trying to do ... (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 1, 1911) A week hence, Dumont himself relays the message to Jim that the proper questions had been asked, and he in turn had given the proper replies, and that all parties therefore concurred in his proposal of marriage to Annie McClure. Dear Jim, Well—yes—brother Jim! You don't know how eager I am to meet you. For its all settled now! . . . I am very fortunate . .. God has richly blessed me in giving me your dear sister. When David Lusk told me, out in Madras, India of a certain Jim McClure— a friend of his in Edinburgh; I little thought of the relationship that was in store for us ... And now that these eventful weeks have gone by I feel as though I know you almost as familiarly as ... 'brother' Jim! For we have much more in common than simply our affection for, and our relationship to Annie! We have ideals and purposes in life, that, nourished and strengthened in atmospheres much alike, are, I doubt not almost identical. The religious life of Yale and Princeton is of that healthy type that, together with other opportunities and environments we have both experienced—and accidental resemblances (I was taken for you one day at the Seminary!)—it would seem that we could be chums right off. Lets try anyway! . . . Annie may have told you of the break down from which I suffered . . . then after my year in India I had another bad time of it—Well I know what you're going through and I feel for you . . . (Dumont Clarke to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 9, 1911) �Affliction 107 These two men did find more in common between them than their breakdowns, and an enduring friendship grew up that would bear fruit later in their lives. Meanwhile, though, Jim remained through the winter at the R & R Ranch in Arizona, his social possibilities limited by the flux of his own spirits and the great expanses of desert. Jim helped to organize a softball game with some of the local ladies, snapping a picture of everyone out amongst the sage brush. The ladies look quite peculiar amidst all their ruffles and bows, bending down in the desert and awaiting their chance to make a play over to first base. And then there was a Mr. Reeves and his sister, whom Jim met on a burro trip across the arid country along the Salt River, through Tortilla Flats to Fish Creek. It was so dry that a drink of water for either man or beast cost five cents. Jim was cooking some biscuits one night, and maybe bragging a little about his days as a broncobuster, when the Reeveses appeared. They were invited to join the expedition for dinner. Mr. Reeves looked like a down and out prospector— a loner dogged by failure. His long drooping mustache gave a theatrical look that was more than matched by his sister, who was wearing a funny straw hat with the front of the brim pinned up. Jim noted in his log of the trip, "Camped by the roadside near Mesa—completing the outfit we entertained Mr. and Miss Reeves at dinner."3 The daily rhythm of the R & R Ranch revolved around young Rockwell's vision of a successful ranch in an Arizona desert. There were to be orange groves and lemon groves, rose bushes, grape arbors, olive trees and a large commercial hay operation. Jim claimed to have planted 221 rose bushes in one day out there. He and his old friend had plenty of time for talk, and Jim loved to hear Rock's stories from the inside about the Yale football team of his day. Jim loved sports because he admired struggle and the spiritual cohesion that develops among the members of a successful team. He wrote down in a notebook he kept in Arizona some of the anecdotes that Rock told him, fascinated by the techniques of successful leadership these stories illustrated. Jim returned to Chicago in June of 1911, in time to help with the preparations for Dumont and Annie's wedding. The family chose Lake Forest and the Presbyterian Church for the ceremony. Eighteen hundred admirers squeezed into the sanctuary. "One of the largest weddings ever celebrated on the north shore .. ."4 chirped a social reporter, a fine tribute to the love for the McClure family in Lake Forest. One news article describes the crowd as " . . . a long line of solidly massed humanity on the streets leading to the church."5 The reception afterwards was held on the grounds of the old Manse, "Gien Hame," just across from the church. "As Mr. and Mrs. Clarke hurried across the lawn after the reception to their carriage, a dozen or more children were waiting to say goodbye to the bride, and she stopped to kiss every one of them."6 The newlyweds invited Jim to join them in Manchester, Vermont, where they were planning to build a home. So Jim went East, after leaving Dumont and Annie to themselves for a respectful period of time. Manchester might be the essence of Vermont; it lies between two long ridges amidst the Green �108 We Plow God's Fields ru " **-" * Jim McClure at the R & R Ranch in the territory of Arizona. Mountains, just underneath the focal point of the village: Mt. Equinox. Whitespired churches, red barns, maple syrup, rocky brooks and glorious fall foliage all appear to be divinely arranged to entice people away from the distractions of urban worldliness to the "Walden Pond" of New England simplicity. And besides, there was a fine golf course in Manchester. Jim's Uncle Will McClure had been hooked by the town and lived out his life there, fly fishing for brook trout in defiance of his family's stern work ethic. Jim came to help build his sister's new home, but Manchester was destined to play a much larger role in his life than mere carpentry, for another young Lake Forest resident often returned to her family's ancestral homeland in this very same Vermont valley. But carpentry was the trade at hand, and it was a good one for a young man whose mind had been too long absorbed in the philosophical battles of the day. Rafters and joists yield much more easily to the queries of mankind than do questions of eternity. A day's work produces the kind of physical fatigue and the palpable results of progress that are a wonderful antidote to the scholarly �Affliction 109 life. And Jim always enjoyed helping someone. He and Dumont grew to be good Mends, close friends, just as the latter had predicted. Jim made Manchester his home base through most of 1912, making intermittent excursions to meet friends and relatives around New England. He and Dumont were working on April Fool's Day that year, and both of them needed only the smallest excuse to pull a practical joke. Dumont slipped into the workshop the night before to take all of Jim's tools and nail them down to the bench. The next morning, after a great deal of prying and laughter, the working day settled into a routine. But all through the day Jim was scheming to top Dumont's prank. That evening, Jim left the house to take a short stroll and in the meantime Dumont received a telephone call from one of the great characters of the village. Bill Tutfle was something of a mad inventor, a prospector of patents hoping to strike riches and glory. "Mr. Clarke, I have a terrific idea I want to talk with you about. With a little backing, we will both become rich. Can I come over to talk with you right now?" Dumont tried to brush him off politely, but the persistence of the inventor won out, and soon he appeared in the doorway. The two men sat down to discuss the inventor's idea: a system whereby the headlights of an automobile were connected to the steering rods, so that when the driver turned a corner, the lights turned as well. Dumont listened politely, inwardly groaning at the nuisance of having to put up with this man. As incredible as it may seem, the "inventor" was none other than Jim McClure, who had mimicked the neighbor so well that, as the story goes, Jim left that night still undetected.7 The Clarke's new home was finished and ready to dedicate on July 4, 1912. It was christened "Sa Du Ja Dit," an acronym of the names of the principal builders including "Du"mont and "Ja"mes. Everyone was invited to visit and explore it on Independence Day. There is an old photograph of Aunt Kitty (Will McClure's wife), looking stiffly from the porch with the young married couple. Her coachman and carriage await her pleasure in the background. Uncle Will was no doubt off fishing on the Fourth. Another picture shows Annie and Dumont, Jim, Arch, Hetty and Nathan in greatly relaxed poses, together with their parents, enjoying one another's company on the new porch.8 Jim's parents always made great efforts to bring the family together, to the extent that Hetty was brought home from boarding school the year Jim returned from Germany so that the entire clan could be under the same roof for a last brief time. Moving on from Manchester, Jim and his family went to Castine Island, Maine, for a vacation together that included walks along the rocky coast and plenty of golf. Jim and Dumont had played quite a bit in Manchester, and in fact golf seems to have been a sport Jim pursued throughout this time as a remedy for his difficulties. Jim helped organize a tournament at the Castine course for late August, although there is no evidence he won any prizes. There is a wonderful picture of him entertaining three beautiful ladies with his accordion.9 Curiously, a golf game was one of the few situations in America at this �110 We Plow God's Fields time where the different classes came into informal contact with one another outside the home. Many a gentleman understood the working class world solely through the eyes of his favorite caddie. Jim noted a report from Dumont and Annie's "man." He had a wife and four children, and was forced to caddie because work was scarce. Judging by his tips, he took home between $1.50 and $4.00 per day. Jim responds to these facts with a sense of outrage that began to grip him during these years. "[It is] distressing to see men caddying at Manchester. [It is an] indictment of [the] industrial system when a man at a decent employment can find no work and goes caddying and has money thrown at him."10 Jim McClure tried to break through the barriers of class to become interested in the lives and potential nobility of the tradespeople who surrounded him. He collected short anecdotes to prove to himself the worthiness of the working class men around him. "The Larned's chauffeur worked like a Trojan . .. and would take no tip. The caretaker, a fine looking young chap, pushed the car with me 200 yards and would take nothing. .. ."u Jim McClure was more and more drawn during this period to the Social Gospel. He read and quoted the works of the two men most prominent in the movement, Washington Gladding and Walter Rauschenbusch. Simply put, these men advocated a Christian socialism. They hoped to use the power of religion, and religious terminology, to transform society. The Kingdom of God was a fully realizable state of social perfection, in which class differences and antagonisms would disappear. In effect, the labor agitator could lie down safely with the capitalist. The emphasis shifts from individual sin to social sin, whereby the actions of one person can demoralize the entire community. In the Social Gospel vision, Jesus becomes the greatest reformer of all times, enlisting tax collectors, prostitutes and fishermen together into an organization that threatened the entrenched class structure of first century Palestine. With the death of Jesus, the movement did not die but took on the mighty Roman Empire with little more than a belief in the brotherhood of all men. Martyrs died as a sacrifice to their vision of an ultimate Peace on Earth. It was Saint Luke's "The Acts of the Apostles," full of examples of an early church that practiced a form of socialism, that most inspired advocates of the Social Gospel. In reading Rauschenbusch's Social Gospel manifesto, Christianizing the Social Order, Jim checked and underlined this stirring call: To become fully Christian the Church must come out of its spiritual isolation . . . It has often built a soundproof habitation in which people could live for years without becoming definitely conscious of the existence of prostitution, child labor, or tenement crowding. It has offered peace and spiritual tranquility to men and women who needed thunderclaps and lightnings. Like all the rest of us, the Church will get salvation by finding the purpose of its existence outside of itself, in the Kingdom of God, the perfect life of the �Affliction 111 Like many members of the American elite, he felt strong twinges of guilt about the unequal distribution of wealth in the United States. In looking for scapegoats, he found the same ones everyone else found, and then some. Here is a compendium of his thoughts on some of the social and political questions of the day: Alfred Hamill [a Lake Forest neighbor] told me that all the great Banks of Chicago [and] New York . .. break the law continually and knowingly .. . This country is in the hands of a few men, i.e. Rockefeller controls most of the large banks in New York and Chicago. When a man attempts to initiate a new business, he applies to the banks for funds. The Bank officials—being to a certain extent figureheads, ascertain whether the Rockefeller interests are willing that the new business start up—if they agree to loan the money they do it on condition of the control of the new business. By this system the whole country is held in a few hands. [Mr. Ambrose Cramer, Jim's future father-in-law, on corruption in the Chicago city government.] 'Hinky Dink' sends a ton of coal to every needy widow, tides over all men out of work; pays for funerals, etc. in his ward with the money he secures from legislation. Should an honest man win from him once he would surely lose at the next election—for Hhiky Dink by these kindnesses would have secured the allegiance of the voting majority . . . no track or switch can be laid in Chicago without paying the council—no tracks laid in the state without paying the legislature . . . the most serious feature is the growing disregard of the Sabbath. I do not see how a man with a family of 5 can spend more than $10,000 a year without committing grave social wrong. Father thinks the country needs a whipping. The idea that the method of life is "the survival of the fittest" furnishes the excuse to advance their own interests, perhaps ruthlessly and at the expense of the good of the whole body of humanity. This phrase is a catchy one and a popular one and yet it supports an entirely erroneous idea. All my friends give me this excuse for not going to church (for none of them go) "I get nothing out of it." That is very true and I grant it. But I feel that that is but one half of the question and I should reply "What do you give it?" We must realize that we are the privileged class-have had education and the culture and breadth which are only possible thru wealth and our attitude toward the ... church . . . as a means of affecting the community, should not be "What can I get out of it?" but "What can I give it?" Imagine the treatment Jesus would receive, should he enter a first class hotel in any great city . . . He would probably be ejected without ceremony. Whereas the most immoral, debased man, with his pockets lined, arriving in �112 We Plow God's Fields a touring car and swaggering in with a chorus girl would be bowed to by every bell hop. These large hotels are one of the culture nests of artificial values—character counts for nothing—money for all ... (Of course this is too sweeping for kindliness . . . the bell hops are working for dying mothers; the old lady in No. 17 thinks of the long hours of the maid and brushes her clothes herself . . -)13 The Social Gospel, in Jim's view, condemned the old vices of drinking and dancing as strongly as the Presbyterians traditionally had done. His prom standbys, the two-step and the waltz, might be safe enough, but he became concerned about new dances corrupting the working girls of America. He saved a New York Times article that expressed his outlook, and conjures up images of this lost world. Influence of Social Follies The manner in which lax conduct in high social circles can influence the humbler to evil practices is somewhat alarmingly shown in ... the investigation of some new kinds of fashionable dancing which have been made by the Committee of Amusements and Vacation Resources of Working Girls. The "turkey trot," the "grizzly bear," and other dances, so called, which are merely developments of terpsichorean extravagances . . . have been taken up this season to diversify fashionable dancing. They are not lively, and whatever may be done with them, in the way of artistic modification, in polite circles, they were originally intended to be indecently suggestive. The working girls get them from good society. They were not introduced into the popular dance halls directly from the lower depths, the unspeakable places where they constitute one form of joyless diversion. Because it is noised abroad that at a "coming out" party of a daughter of good society the "slow rag" or the "tango argentine" were danced, those grotesque posturing must, perforce, be imitated in the Saturday night dances of the poor girls . . ,14 Such a quaint world America was in 1911. Will there ever be a "Committee on Amusements and Vacation Resources of Working Girls" again, or an article on "Social Follies" and the "grizzly bear" in the New York Times! At the height of the Progressive flood tide, the mood of the country was a paradox. On the one hand, the muckraking spirit searched out evil, corruption and self-interest in every level of American life. But the national mood was basically optimistic, with a strong "can do" spirit riding high. Exposure, along with die legion of committees, would rout out the blemishes within the country. Confidence in the democratic faith was strong. In 1912, one of the more remarkable of the nation's elections took place. Two Republicans (Taft and Roosevelt), sought re-election, thereby splitting their constituency. As a result, the nation elected Woodrow Wilson, the first Democratic president since Grover Cleveland. Stern and moralistic, Wilson became an apt symbol of the era, taking his views of a world based �Affliction 113 on Christian principles to the Treaty of Versailles. Never before had an American president received so much attention or been so influential on the world stage. And never before had the mood been right for the prohibition of liquor. Evidence of the evil of alcohol is never hard to find, and the hope of the Progressive movement coupled with the self-denial of World War I produced the Great Experiment. Jim McClure's position had been staked out long before. In his haphazard study of the working class, he came up with this particular case to add weight in the general Temperance struggle: Nels Hanson, whose funeral was held on August 20—was 23 years old, and after spending an evening at Waukegan, was killed by a Northwestern train. He was intoxicated. A great deal of drinking is done by the young [working] men of Lake Forest. .. . The liquor is secured by getting some man . . . who is out of a job for the day to go to Highwood or North Chicago for the stuff. [Jim's father had kept it from being sold in Lake Forest itself.] Whiskey is the beverage and it is drunk straight.15 Temperance supporters have the reputation for being fundamentalist crusaders, popularly pictured as ax-wielding females who are naive enough to think that the sins and ills of mankind can be laid almost exclusively at the door of one substance. Jim McClure, and there must have been many more like him on this issue, was not of that ilk. He believed that it might be possible for mankind to perfect itself on this earth, and that for this reason alone alcohol should be removed from the list of demoralizing temptations. He wrote a paper while at McCormick on the saloon trade in Chicago, and pointed out how these institutions gave away free sandwiches to the working men who patronized them during the lunch hour. The enticement of the free lunch, Jim reasoned, was more than enough to bring "straight" men into a "crooked" place. Conviviality and relaxation soon worked its magic to draw even the strongest men into the habit of drink. To these saloons, in winter, the men must come at noon hour. They must have a warm place to eat their lunch in. The saloons supply the place—they offer to the cold ignorant men warmth and free lunch, but in return the men must fulfill the one condition attached—they must drink. If the workman does not drink he is put out in no time. Right here is where the man starts on his slide. On the cold days he will drink more to keep warm—he will seldom thereafter drink less. He will cash his pay checks at the saloon—there is no other place. The saloon-keeper gets a grip on his throat and gradually tightens it... 1 6 There must have been quite a number of reformers such as Jim McClure to join up with the more fanatical Temperance adherents in order to pass the Eighteenth Amendment. �114 We Plow God's Fields But as the tides of Temperance were rising, Jim struggled with his own weaknesses, his own character. He wanted to feel in tune with God's progress, to have his natural inner impulses match the high ideals of his thoughts. On January 26, 1911 he wrote down this remarkable prayer: Oh God, give me too some surety and conviction that this whole process of development and progress that thou art engineering on this earth . . . has . . . a benevolent purpose toward each individual . .. And as time goes on enable me more and more to understand how these two purposes are one. Make me to feel this personal relation to Thee and to feel, too, that the daily doings of even the most obscure of us all, the cooks and the ditch diggers and lazy Mexicans, is of importance to Thee and really matters in Thy plan for the whole. . . . Help me to dignify all men in their own eyes. And now God, give to me enduring patience that I may accept this long period of inaction with a cheerfulness, tho not boisterous, [that] may infect all those with whom Thou dost throw me with the conviction that after all and at bottom life is tremendously worth while. . . ,17 To truly appreciate and empathize with the "menial" class (and the lazy Mexicans!) for a man with Jim's education and Lake Forest upbringing took a great deal of rethinking, and reshaping, of his behavior to fit the ideal. The habits of class ran deep. Jim wanted desperately to feel real love for all of mankind, and he tried to follow that ideal with each individual he met. Whenever he traveled, he had the conviction that the person sitting next to him was sent by God, and it was his duty to encourage that person in some way. This attitude made life for him a wonderful carnival of surprises, and indeed the uplifting effect his personality had on many, many people became one of the living fruits of his life. Again he prayed: Oh God, who art so silent that I forget thee, and who art so all pervading and so necessary that I take thee as a matter of course—forgive me that I live so much for the sake of cutting a figure in the eyes of those people who are about me. Forgive me that I give a real value to artificial standards and aim to be thought well of by the rich man or the successful man than the good man and by Thee. Forgive me that I flee . . . to artificial standards and lean to them rather than stand on our common humanity. Help me—Oh God! to feel toward and to act toward each man as a man and as a child of all loving source— Forgive me that I retire within the walled city of social position, good clothes, friendship with those in power or of money rather than stand in the open plain of simple manliness and uprightness and honor. Forgive me that I am ... unwilling to appear to be on the losing side or to be outdated. Give to me more common sense and prudence and keep me from so recklessly and heedlessly rushing into things. Forgive me for talking so much.18 With all the energy, wit, and intelligence within him, he did find it difficult to control his tongue. He wrote: "Oh God . . . Help me to keep my mouth shut �Affliction 115 on all derogatory remarks and all remarks that may in any way strain or smudge another's honor, or diminish the esteem in which he is held or he holds himself."19 Out of this period in Jim's life came a thorough search from within of his impulses and pretenses that would never have been possible had he been in China, say, building up a school or hospital. His father had told him how often God teaches those people who are receptive during their weakest moments. Jim's friends were out in the world, pursuing a variety of successful ventures that built up their self-esteem. Jim had nothing to fall back on, no accomplishments he could point to and say to himself, I have achieved something worthy of the world's praise. The courage of St. Paul, who like Jim suffered debilities during his ministry, was an inspiration to him. Paul's single-minded adherence to the highest standards, the Apostle having been shown on the road to Damascus how much his life was based on artificial standards, produced in him a beautiful character of strength and courage. Jim McClure was facing a dilemma that has troubled Americans since the beginning of the industrial revolution. On the one hand, the efficiency of machines and business practices has created enormous amounts of wealth along with the possibility of material subsistence for all. But the drive that produced such wealth was fueled to a large extent by the desire for personal power, influence and a sumptuous way of life. Jim, like many of his contemporaries, wanted to infuse the American business spirit with selfless Christian virtue in order that "society" might be saved. In 1912, Jim returned from Manchester to the elegance of Lake Forest. Even if he felt strong yearnings for a simple life, how could he turn down a free trip around the world backed by his generous benefactress Mrs. Cyrus McCormick, widow of the inventor of the McCormick reaper, and a member of his father's congregation? She had taken a special interest in Jim, and worried about his present difficulties. Perhaps the ocean air and the variety of the world would work a special cure, and show him at the same time the wide variety of Christian mission work. Mrs. McCormick loved Jim as she loved his father. She was perhaps the richest widow in America, and thoroughly Presbyterian. Her hearing was almost gone by this time, and so she carried her silver ear horn everywhere. Being a doughty old woman, she liked to wield her horn as something of a weapon. If someone bored her, or she did not approve of what was being said, she laid down the earpiece to return to her silent world, leaving the speaker noticeably embarrassed. Young Jim was never boring, and he was full of wonderful ideas she approved of, and so he maintained ready access to her horn. A trip around the world might indeed clear up his troubles, and how much he enjoyed travelling! Jim found a friend, Bob Dangler, who was likewise in the mood for travel. In fact, the two of them left the day after Bob heard the plan, on New Year's Day of 1913. To travel in Asia and the Middle East just prior to World War I was to see the last rays of twilight of the European colonial order. In August of 1914, the �116 We Plow God's Fields empires of Europe's most powerful nations began to unravel. Colonial competition was a major source of tension that lay behind this tragedy, and by 1918 the colonies began to hope for an end to European domination. But in 1913 Asia was still part of the old order, and Bob and Jim could travel amongst Christian missionaries hard at work, European administrators firmly in control, and Western businessmen confident of their markets. A Yale graduate could expect to see a world that, to a large extent, "his people" managed. The first stop was Honolulu, in this day a pristine town managed by the United States for the benefit of its navy. Then it was on to Japan. Jim thoroughly enjoyed life on the steamships. He and Bob played baseball on deck, and Jim became the master of ceremonies for a day of activities. His knee held up as he won the one lap race around the boat, and his stomach likewise as he beat back all opposition in the Bun Eating Contest.20 Throughout his trip, Jim had lists of family contacts to visit and look up. He wrote home from aboard the Japanese ship Shinvo Maru: We left Kobe yesterday noon, and coming thru the Inland Sea, are on the way to Nagasaki which we should reach about noon today. We have just passed the place where the Japanese destroyed the Russian fleet. I enjoyed my stay with Mr. Learned. He was in high spirits, gave his classes a day off and kept me trotting from morning to night. He wanted me to tell you that the Japanese have a custom of retiring about 55 or 60 years of age, handing over their duties to their sons and spending their days in meditation and writing poetry. He wants you to come to Kyoto for the poetry end of i t . . . The best thing about my trip thus far is that tho I have been doing a good deal in Japan I feel none the worse for it. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to James G. K. McClure, Sr., January 26, 1913) Like many young men, Jim became fascinated by the institution of the Geisha girl in Japan. He talked with a Dr. Schwartz about them, and recorded what he learned in his notebook. Geisha girls are girls trained to entertain by singing, dancing, conversing. They are used by Japanese men in giving dinners, even in their homes. They are kept by some person . .. and let out. As to their morality they all have their price, tho the tea houses in which they dance are not houses of prostitution, they can be taken to a house across the street or someplace after their performance. Dr. Schwartz considers Geisha the greatest influence impairing the purity of the Japanese home.21 On to Shanghai, where Jim and Bob were only two of the many "Sons of old Eli" who attended the annual Yale dinner. Such a comfortable world in which to travel! In Hong Kong, Jim met up with one of his old friends from Germany while crossing the street, and Bob Dangler immortalized the moment with his camera. The superstition and poverty of China he discovered to be as rampant as he had expected. He thought the Chinese were foolish to think that �Affliction 117 they needed firecrackers to let the local god know someone was needing attention. Chinese beggars were a part of any American's view of the country, and Jim recorded the following incident: [I saw] a mob of some fifty of the dirtiest, toughest and most ragged individuals I had ever seen, lying in the sunshine of the street. I asked the missionary whom I was with what that filthy crowd was. "Why," he replied, "they are professional beggars. They travel together with a leader and start down a street, the leader going into a shop and asking the proprietor for a handout. If the proprietor is reluctant or stingy he points to the crowd outside and if the proprietor refuses to come across he beckons to the gang and they pour in and wreck his store. They work the city systematically, working each street every couple of months."22 Jim concluded that Christianity was the factor that made Western society different, that made helping the helpless a virtue. In China and throughout Asia he noted great numbers of suffering people and almost a complete void of compassion. "It is only under Christian civilization that we have hospitals . . . I found that in China if a coolie is injured in the streets he is left there or finally hauled off much as we would haul off a sick horse... ."23 Soon the trenches of the Western Front would remind Jim and his contemporaries that barbarism lay just below the surface of European civilization as well. After Hong Kong, the two travelers boarded a ship that would eventually land them in India. Bob Dangler wrote to Harriet McClure about Jim's colonial appearance. "Just docking at Manila in glorious sunshine—flags flying and band playing. Jim is looking like a prosperous planter in helmet and pongee suit" (Bob Dangler to Harriet McClure, February 6, 1913). They visited a rubber plantation at Kuala Lumpur and McGregor's Lumber Yard in Rangoon, with the main attraction at the latter being an elephant handling teak logs. A Miss Starr was very much in evidence during this phase of the excursion. The countries came and went so fast that Jim rarely broke beneath the superficial colonial view of this complex world. He returned with comments such as "The Burmese do not make soldiers . . . The Burman is indolent, the women industrious... ,"24 He was horrified to find people bathing regularly in a river infested with maneating crocodiles. One had been killed and its stomach found to be fiill of the bangles of his victims. Because of a fatalistic religion, Jim wrote in his notebook, "the natives in the neighborhood of a man-eating crocodile continue bathing in spite of the losses in their ranks, looking upon it as fate."25 Bob and Jim maintained their fast pace of sight-seeing in India. Two days at each stop seems to have been the maximum time allotted. Their itinerary took them to Calcutta, Darjeeling, Benares, Agra, Delhi, Bombay, Bangalore, Madras (where they visited Eli Yale's son's grave!). To sister Harriet, Jim sent a picture of the gruesome funeral pyres along the Ganges River at Benares, the city he had visited years before in his imagination for "Steady Streams." "Knowing your moribund taste I send this postal" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet ��Affliction 119 McClure, March 3, 1913). And with similar grim humor, he sent to Annie and Dumont the message that "We have seen the Towers of Silence and the vultures who polish off the Parsees ..." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Dumont Clarke, March 7, 1913). He and Bob made a pilgrimage to Bangalore, where Dumont Clarke had worked as a YMCA secretary and had done so much to raise money for a new building. There they found the new YMCA just completed. Dumont had asked Jim to bring with him the original scale model that had been made of clay, which he did, through all the vicissitudes of the remaining trip. It was packed in a big, bulky box, most unsuited to the gypsy life of Jim and Bob. But Jim wanted to do this favor. When he presented it to Dumont proudly, and opened the box, the clay model had been reduced to rubble! In between the Taj Mahals and the Mt. Everests, Jim did have a chance to meet and talk with a young Indian "of one of the lower castes" who had picked up some English. "He asked me about caste in America and I told him the story of Lincoln. He frankly would not believe it. His ambitions, his possibilities, his future, his hopes were circumscribed . . . Nothing could call forth the best in that man."26 Jim's insatiable curiosity aroused his interest wherever he went. Questions about carpentry and queries about religion tumbled about in his mind, and wherever the language barrier could be circumvented, out they came. Bob wrote to Arch McClure that "Jim is very busy righting the wrongs of the Orient" (Bob Dangler to Arch McClure, no date). The trip served to buttress Jim's faith in America and in Christianity. A Miss Richardson, whom he met at an archeological dig in Egypt, told him another story to support this faith. A Turkish foreign minister worked with her father in the diplomatic community of Athens, Greece. One day he "... received an order from the Sultan to return to Constantinople. He was afraid to return for the Sultan had a habit of ordering those not in his favor home and having them dropped overboard en route. He wanted to return hoping that he was to be promoted to Secretary of State . . . He went home and was never heard from again."27 In Egypt, family acquaintances like the Richardsons continued to take in and entertain the two young men, and Jim made a noteworthy trip to Luxor on the back of a camel known as Will Taft. The final and certainly inevitable leg of this grand tour was through the Holy Land. In 1913, Palestine was on the eve of becoming the political thorn it has remained ever since. A few years later, in 1917, the Balfour Declaration was signed by the British to enlist Jewish support for World War I. This pact was the first great victory of the modern Zionist movement to reclaim Israel for the Jewish people. Jim visited a backwater land full of donkeys, Arabs and a preponderance of religious shrines. After landing in Jaffa, Bob and Jim made their way to Bethlehem. The next day they rented a pair of donkeys, and slowly Opposite: Postcard to Harriet McClure from Bob Dangler, February 6, 1913. �120 We Plow God's Fields made their way along a Jericho a road not much different from the one Jesus had walked 1900 years before. They enjoyed a picnic lunch at Elisha's spring and an afternoon swim in the Dead Sea.28 Jerusalem yielded up its list of familiar sites: the Mount of Olives, the Garden of Gethsemene, and the Via Dolorosa. At Jacob's well they ran into 900 Russian pilgrims who had walked from their motherland. These people fascinated Jim, all the more so because he witnessed their simple joy as they attained the object of so great a trek. At the same time, he was disheartened by the way they were gypped out of their meager savings by unscrupulous Arab souvenir sellers. In Nazareth, Jim and Bob become acquainted with two pretty English ladies, the Misses Tassel, and that eventful day ended with the four of them praying together on the roof of the hotel.29 The Misses Tassel appeared again just over the border in Syria, where Jim and Bob had been touring the pagan ruins of Baalbek. Three Hellenist temples, one each to Jupiter, Bacchus and Venus, contrasted in Jim's mind with the more subdued Christian and Jewish sites to the south. Damascus, "the Pearl of the Desert," which was the city Paul entered after his dramatic conversion, was just about the end of the trip. It was a Grand Tour of the world in five months, and what can be said for it? First, it was a conventional trip with a predictable itinerary. From the Taj Mahal to the Wailing Wall to Chinese beggars and the pyramids, Jim McClure saw what was expected. There was nothing in this trip to shake his basic faith in the views of Protestant Christianity or in Western superiority, the American variety in particular. His admiration for foreign missionaries, with whom he almost invariably stayed, was heightened. One of his last visits on the trip was to the Syrian Protestant College (soon to become the American University) in Beirut (Lebanon was then a part of Syria). He was visibly impressed with the work there; American churchmen and American money were educating about 900 local students each year in the school's program. Jim yearned to be a part of such a work. The mission field that eventually captured him was found nowhere along the itinerary of this trip; in fact, it lay only a long day's train ride from Chicago. Yet the quaint habits of the people, the rigors of life, and the primitive nature of the society there could match almost anything he had seen in Asia. Jim returned to America on the 5. 5. Cretic, from Naples to Boston. He sailed first class, and greatly enjoyed the company of several gentlemen traveling likewise. He took an engaging picture of a Mr. Dunn, a Mr. Hammond and one Marziale Sanchioni; the accoutrements of class in this photograph are all too obvious, from attire to pose, and remind us once again of the clean lines of social status that existed in this world. The young Indian who asked Jim about caste in America would have been even less likely to believe the Lincoln story had he been able to sail on the S. S. Cretic in 1913. Jim remained in New England, going directly to Dumont and Annie in Manchester with his bulky box. After the shock of opening the box for Dumont, and finding nothing but dust, he told the details of his trip. One of his favorites �Affliction 121 was the time he and Bob were accosted by bandits. The family memory is somewhat vague on the exact nationality of these men, but they seem to have found our young hero on a mountain top somewhere, possibly the volcanic Mt. Etna of Sicily. How did Jim McClure handle the prospect of being robbed by dangerous natives of a foreign land? He challenged them to a jumping contest. If Bob and Jim could outjump the two bandits, they would go free. If not, the bandits could have their fair share of the Americans' loot. Well, as unbelievable as this story sounds, Jim's bad knee held up, and the wan Bob Dangler gave it all he had; the bandits were beaten fair and square and went home emptyhanded.30 The Manchester crowd all returned to Lake Forest in time for the June marriage of sister Harriet. Douglas Stuart was the groom, a very upright and capable business executive who would in time rise to be President of the Quaker Oats Company. During the Eisenhower administration, he would serve a successful stint as the U. S. Ambassador to Canada. The wedding occurred on June 10, 1913, and the surviving pictures show a wonderful scene of a baseball game on a Lake Forest lawn. One of Harriet's and Jim's close friends, Marian Farwell, was playing third base while wearing a Quaker costume in honor of the bridegroom's business affiliation. The Stuarts hired a special train to bring their South Side Chicago friends to Lake Forest. Since the size of "Gien Hame" was restricted, "the wedding tea was served on the lawn, where pretty girls in lingerie dresses, flower hats and gay colored silken coats poured tea at beautifully decorated tables."31 Jim ushered, and helped to escort one of Harriet's best friends, the lovely Elizabeth Cramer, among the rounds of society during this occasion. She was to return to France shortly thereafter to pursue her artistic aspirations which, fortunately for Jim, were interrupted by the events of August 1914. For Jim McClure, the days of restlessness were almost over. He was now feeling well enough again to take on responsibilities. For three years he had traveled about, to Arizona, to Vermont, around the world, with uncounted side trips. He was desperate to engage himself in the world, to try out his abilities, and yet his nagging health difficulties had kept him back. In August of 1913, a letter came to Mrs. McCormick from a small mining town in Michigan. She had helped the writer find a pastor six years before. At the present time I am located at Iron River, Michegan [sic] at which point we have a church consisting of about thirty-five members. Iron River is situated in a district where large ore deposits have been made recently, the opening up of which has brot [sic] one a boom phase, causing the influx of a large number of families, and the church is desirous of getting in touch with these people. (Unknown writer to Mrs. Cyrus McCormick, August 30, 1913) �122 We Plow God's Fields Mrs. McCormick recommended Jim McClure for the position, and truly it was a situation ideally tailored to fit a young purveyor of the Social Gospel. Iron River was a rough mining town, with immigrants pouring in for jobs. Rapid growth and the strain of absorbing many different national groups had left any previous sense of community in a shambles. Crime and alcohol were common problems. Great distrust among the immigrant groups, exacerbated by a babble of languages, created enormous tensions. Jim understood the role of the church to be a great force for civilization, and in Iron River he had his chance to start practically from scratch. In November, the Iron River Reporter announced that the "Rev. James G. K. McClure, Jr. of Chicago arrived here yesterday and will become the pastor of the Presbyterian Church . . . Rev. McClure is a young unmarried man. He is a graduate of Edinburgh, Scotland, and McCormick seminaries and also of Yale University . . . He is a pleasant and genial young man and comes to his new charge highly spoken of."32 Jim's three and a half years of convalescence were over. They were not wasted years. New influences and experiences became a part of his life. Arizona, Shanghai, Vermont and Nazareth ceased to be simply names to him. He had learned the rudiments of carpentry, and met hosts of new people. But his efforts had been scattered and undirected, and his life remained nearly all potential with very little yet accomplished. The Iron River pastorate fitted him well, and yet his strange and debilitating malady lurked in the background. Friends and family, and Jim himself, wondered whether 'the cure' was complete. 1. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Stray notes" journal, 1910. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Newspaper clipping from June 28, 1911, saved by James G. K. McClure, Jr., paper unknown. 5. Ibid. 6. Ibid. 7. Interview with Dumont Clarke, Jr. 8. Family photograph album 9. Ibid. 10. James G. K. McClure, Jr., 1910 personal notebook, entry dated January 2, 1911. 11. Ibid. 12. Walter Rauschenbusch, Christianizing the Social Order, (New York: MacMillon, 1912), p. 464. 13. 1910 notebook. 14. "Influence of Social Follies," New York Times, January 5, 1911. 15. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Lake Forest Notebook, 1910. 16. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Saloon Question in Chicago," unpublished paper. �Affliction 123 17. James G. K. McClure, Jr., notebook begun on November 1, 1910, entry dated January 26, 1911. 18. Ibid. 19. Ibid., entry dated September 4, 1911. 20. James G. K. McClure, Jr., scrapbook of his trip around the world. 21. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Loose-leaf notebook. 22. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Rackets and the Public," unpublished paper written in the early 1930s for the Pen and Plate Club, (Asheville, NC), p. 1-2. 23. Loose leaf notebook. 24. Ibid., entry dated February 23, 1913. 25. Ibid. 26. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Has Democracy Achieved Its Economic Purpose?" an unpublished paper presented to the Pen and Plate Club, Asheville, NC, 1926. 27. Loose leaf notebook. 28. Loose leaf notebook and the Scrapbook of the trip. 29. Ibid. 30. interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 31. Newspaper clipping, June 11, 1913, paper unknown. 32. Iron River Reporter, November 14, 1913. �Chapter Eight Iron River No one disputes that the forces of good in the world, with their divisions into denominations, are inefficiently organized. So inefficient are they that tho we have millions of members in our churches, each with a professed belief in the brotherhood of man, the organization of these millions is not able to translate their ideals into action. It is as if into a giant hopper, the church people were pouring their ideals of brotherhood, their hopes for a better world, their money, their prayers, their work, their time. And out of the hopper instead of a society permeated by the spirit of Christ... comes a thin stream of prayer meetings, of exhortations & of accomplishment.1 I mean never by word, look or sign to show my discouragement. Further, no matter what happens I will see life thru & see it thru handsomely & graciously. Further I mean always to appear to be and to be content with my lot & full of quiet courage—no matter what the Lord calls upon me for. (Inserted by James G. K. McClure, Jr. into a notebook he kept while in Iron River) Iron County, Michigan, is an aptly named district that lies on top of one of the world's finest mineral deposits. The ore extracted from the Mesabi Range of Michigan's Upper Peninsula has been a major component of the growth of the American economy in the twentieth century. In 1913 the town of Iron River was a rollicking, boozing, boom town, spawned by the growing appetite of the American steel industry. In a year's time, the demand for Mesabi ore would soar, and much of it would be shipped to France after having been fashioned into implements of war: bayonets, artillery, helmets, and even the barbed wire that was rolled out along the trenches of the Western Front. But to see Iron River's connection to that bloody future, or its connection to much of anything else in 1913, took an act of imagination. The place was remote, and its inhabitants for the most part were a rude collection of men and women drawn together by the wages of the mining industry. The raw nature of life in Iron River was the precise quality that drew Jim McClure into service there. He wanted his ministry to be an act of social healing, a building up of a town and its inhabitants. He saw the opportunity to establish the ideals of Christian civilization among a people who were suffering from its absence. Rather than coming to soothe and comfort, Jim McClure came to Iron River as a general leading his congregation into battle. He intended to 124 �Iron River 125 renovate the spiritual life of all the inhabitants of the town and better align it with his concept of the Kingdom of God. The elders and deacons were impressed with the young man's sense of purpose, and so the church issued a formal call to Jim McClure: "The Congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Iron River, Michigan, being, of sufficient grounds, well satisfied of the ministerial qualifications of you, Mr. James G. K. McClure, and having good hopes from our past experiences of your labors, that your ministrations in the Gospel will be profitable to our spiritual interests, do earnestly call and desire you to undertake the pastoral office in said congregation ..." (Board of Elders of the Iron River Presbyterian Church to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 28, 1913). The church promised to pay him $1,000 a year, and to allow him a four-week vacation. His call to Iron River was followed by his ordination as a minister of the Gospel of Christ. In the McCormick Seminary Chapel, Dr. Andrew Zenos, Jim's former teacher, issued him his charge. Jim's father prayed for the fruitful guidance of his son by the supreme Lord of creation, and then everyone sang a most appropriate hymn, "Faith of our Fathers."2 Working and on his own at last, Jim gathered up his belongings and left his family. He found the church itself to be a simple structure, with bare grounds without any flowers or shrubs. Houses crowded right up to the church building, which was a plain white clapboard box with a large and rather ill-proportioned steeple. His congregation was made up of the leaders in the local mining industries, the owners and engineers. The only other Protestant congregation of any consequence in Iron River was the local Methodist Church, which had about as many members as the Presbyterian congregation. The bulk of the working class families, excepting the Scandinavians, were left to the two Roman Catholic churches, one of which was Polish. Jim intended to cross all of the barriers that divided the people of Iron River, from religion to language to social class to national origin. He would minister to the entire town. He chided in his first sermon the businessmen in his congregation, demanding that they follow him across the social chasm on a mission of Christian duty. On November 16, 1913, twenty-nine members listened as he outlined his purposes in his first message to the church: As several of you know it was with some hesitation that I decided to offer my name for the consideration of this congregation, for as I looked around on the Sunday which I spent here the tasks confronting this church seemed so large, the town growing as it is and indifference in the community to the deeper values of life so strong and militant that it seemed to me that considering my lack of experience in the ministry, the whole work was more than I should attempt. I was strongly drawn to the work, however, and I felt that, as I had explained my limitations and emphasized my lack of experience, and endeavored to make that clear, that if you felt that I could be of service to this church and community I should like to come. �126 We Plow God's Fields II » CHICAGO, MILWAUKEE 8c ST. PAUL RY. GOOD FOR ONE FIRST CLASS LIMITED PASSAGE CHICAGO (U. D.) TO GOOD ONLY ONE DAY FROM DATE OF SALE 13489 FORM L.'-i5 Passenger Traffic Manager Top: Iron River Presbyterian Church, Iron River, Mich., photographed by James G.K. McClure, Jr. Bottom: Train ticket to Iron River. This morning I want to speak in general terms about what I come here to try to do. In the first place, I come here not to do certain things, I do not come here to attempt to run anyone's business . . . 1 was born and brought up in a community of business men and they were fine, strong, self-reliant men and I have always had a great respect for business men and men engaged hi the actual affairs of life. In those spheres you men are experts. Almost all the �Iron River 127 young men with whom I have grown up have entered some form of business or the law. But there is one thing, in connection with the business world, that is a burden on my heart and I expect I shall frequently mention it and speak of it and that is my hope that the business world may be permeated by the spirit of Christ... the fact remains that the principle upon which business is based is not that of the strong helping the weak and it is the great task of our generation to attempt to re-generate business-to have business permeated from top to bottom with the spirit of Christ and that is a task before those of us who are businessmen. . . . I do not mean to ... interfere with anyone's individual responsibility or conscience. . . . in all matters of conduct, I shall not interfere with your personal decisions . . . such as dancing, theatre-going, keeping Sunday, card playing. . . . I mean to hold before you the highest ideals.... A church, anywhere, to be of any use at all must be a working church—and it must be working for the community. Every member must be doing something. It is more important that a member of the church do something than that he believe something. Do not think of the church as a place of retreat, a place in which you can escape the trials of the world and the strenuousness of life. The church is not a place for tired men and women.3 The die was cast that Sunday. If Jim wanted a working church, then its pastor would be required to exert himself to the very limits of endurance. He would have to overthrow the accepted notion that a minister rode a pretty soft ride, and earn respect first of all as a man of action, and secondly as a man of vision. With no home or retreat of any sort, it would be hard for him to resist filling each day, all day, with some useful activity. He had to prove himself to these people, and do it by making an impact on the community. The question was, how much stress could he maintain before his old symptoms returned? Jim's father and mother visited him about two weeks into the work. The Dominie understood the strains of his own profession, and what can happen to overeager young ministers. Moreover, he knew his own son's personality, and so cautioned him to learn to pace his life. . . . Annie, Dumont, and Arch are eager to hear every possible word about you and your church. . . . Now my dear boy, let me say: I. Try to be as calm in your mind as possible: "Study to be quiet" is Scripture. n. Don't try to make matters move too hastily. "Hasten slowly" is a good motto for you and your work. HI. Make your sustained health a matter of "purpose, plan and persistency"—Get to your room and lie down—and not think. IV. Persuade Mrs. Young to let you remain where you are for the winter. I will pay the bill. Fix up your bedroom in the Manse and when she wishes your room, you can go to the Manse for a night or two. V. I see the limitless opportunities and demands that are sure to come to �128 We Plow God's Fields you. Conserve your strength. Visiting is killing to nervous peace, to intellectual development and to spiritual power. A call counts for more in many instances than a long visit. VI. You are answering to all that my heart could possibly wish. You are a noble man, you are doing noble work—and I am perfectly content. Only—Be careful not to overdo. Let time be an element in your power. You made us very happy every minute we were with you. Our tender and abounding love is yours. Father (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 15,1913) A week after receiving this advice, Christmas would come to this frozen community. Jim was determined to bring the spirit of brotherhood into his church, to fill it with as diverse a group of people as Iron River could provide. At the same time, he would sorely miss the great joy of being with his own family at home, a very special time for him each year. He set out throughout the town and surrounding countryside, knocking on the doors of strangers and persuading them to come to the Presbyterian Church for a fine Christmas service. His famous powers of persuasion worked their magic, and on Christmas the church began to fill up with the most remarkable variety of people. As the regulars and the newcomers began to settle into the pews, a palpable sense of uneasiness began to settle over the congregation. Feigning nonchalance, people began gazing about the church, wondering whence all of these people had come. It was the kind of scene Jim McClure adored. He was a master at breaking down the barriers between people, cutting through the suspicion and creating a joyful and friendly ambience. After the service, he rushed about thanking the newcomers for making the effort to come, and introducing them among the regulars. He had a knack for remembering names, and for remembering some small item of interest to dispel an embarrassing silence; and soon, almost singlehandedly, he created that Christmas among a group of men and women very strange to one another, a wonderful feeling of conviviality and Christian brotherhood. The event was a grand success, and the Presbyterian Church in Iron River afterwards became a growing body of believers. Back home on Halsted Street, gathered around the McClure table that same Christmas Day, Jim's family prayed for his well-being and then sent some letter paper around to everyone, to cheer up their missing member. My dear boy: We are all gathered around the family dining table, Mother, Annie and Dumont, Harriet and Douglas, Arch, Nathan.... and myself. We think and speak often of you. We have wished for you a thousand times today .. . [Harriet writing] Dinto [Nathan] and Doug are upholding the 'arty appetite club'; D. Clarke is trying a good deal of his pleasantries much to the annoyance of his wife, who claims that she "doesn't talk as much as she used to." Whereat the whole table burst into a shout of acclamation. [Annie writing] The above is not literally true. Nothing that Dumont does �Iron River 129 annoys me, as you well know. We are having a grand Christmas but we do miss you every minute. The baby (Dumont, Jr.) has had a wonderful day, enjoying all his gifts with true delight. We wonder where you are celebrating— and how many attractive ladies are looking at your "melting eyes"—I must close as Douglas simply can't wait to put his sentiments down— [Douglas Stuart writing] This has been a great Christmas . .. [Dumont Clarke writing] I am following in the foot-steps of a great man, you see so I shall shine only by reflecting glory. Dumont Jr. is just sighted and havoc ensues—so there is no chance for more or greater thoughts. (McClure family to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 25, 1913) In Iron River, the winter that followed Christmas was as harsh and cold as it always was. Like everyone else Jim pulled his driving blanket right up over his nose when he drove about. The physical suffering of the local inhabitants was exacerbated as the demand for ore slackened, and the mines began to close down. Yet, what glory there was must have shined off the young minister Jim McClure, for he persistently worked to alleviate any hardships that came to his attention, physical or spiritual. The boom town atmosphere of Iron River seemed to break down the bonds of self-restraint, and Jim had to face squarely the ugly faces of sin. Of his nine Sunday School teachers, three had had sisters or a daughter "ruined." In one month alone twenty-one cases of rape were brought to his attention. One girl had to leave Iron River for the second time to abort her illegitimate child. One man, Kilkollins " . . . had slept with every cat in the county." His wife was almost raped by her uncle, but she tore up his face with hair pins. She eventually hired a girl with syphilis for $10 to sleep with Kilkollins so he would contract the disease, and she would have grounds for divorce. With unflagging energy, Jim waded into the midst of these problems, doing what he could.4 During the winter of 1914, widows were being turned out of their homes for the lack of $5 in rent. Young children roamed about town with no place to go but the saloons for a little excitement. The local Catholic priest was hopelessly corrupt, getting drunk with his housekeeper and carrying on with little girls at church picnics. At church suppers, after liberal doses of wine, the priest would urge girls to dance the jig on the table. The local Polish community tried to have him removed, but according to Jim's notes the priest bribed the bishop and had the leader of the movement put into an asylum!5 Jim McClure took on the town's business. He once smelled a whiff of corruption in the local school system, and stood up at a public meeting to grill the Superintendent and bring to light the duplicity of his policies. He helped to found the Iron County Welfare Association, whose purpose was to abolish the "Liquor Traffic" and to prevent "Immorality and Vice." To the surprise of everyone, saloons were voted right out of the county. That spring, Jim spearheaded a drive to build and equip a playground and ball park. Bats and balls were purchased, and teams organized. Jim brought in a gymnastic exhibition, to inspire the local children on how to use the new parallel bars and spring �130 We Plow God's Fields boards. He realized that the life of any community revolves around shared activities, and that sports were a great deal healthier for the morals of the young than hanging around idle.6 Jim's mission to Iron River fulfilled his ambitions; here was a place where his Godly training could be put to work, rooting out sin and bringing people together in a more holy and less suspicious environment. Here he could minister to an entire town instead of a single, well-established church. By his own reckoning, he set himself up as a model of high character and self-sacrifice. He wanted to drag this grimy little mining town a little closer to paradise, and he knew that his influence could make a difference only if he remained above reproach. Not unlike Moses leading his ungrateful people about the Sinai desert, he was determined that no amount of grumbling would dissuade him from his purposes, and no amount of sin would force him to compromise his adherence to the moral commandments. How long can a man endure such a life? His heroic outlook masked the loneliness of his role. In February of 1914, in the middle of that awful winter, Jim showed himself to his parishioners as a man who was obsessed with perfection, and consequently was unhappy with anything less in himself. Jim's ministry in Iron River was largely a matter of preaching the highest of ideals, and then setting himself up as an example. In a sermon, entitled "The Mastery of the Will," there were no biblical references and God was a distant and somewhat fuzzy concept. One's ultimate faith, Jim explained, rested solely in the individual will. Sin and human frailties were too easily accepted; instead, through the exercise of will weakness was to be rooted out. "We make the universe we live in," he told his congregation. "If we determine to live as if God is good and as if men are the children of God we will find that true. If we determine to live as if God is a lie and all men are liars & deceivers we will find that true." He advocated a " . . . systematic training in Mastery of the Will... ."7 He concluded by saying that "The man who will call upon his will, with God's help, can keep from doing wrong because . . . he brings his will into battle & creates a victory." In these ideas, and in Jim's natural inclination, there was very little room for him to follow his father's advice, to find a time and place to rest and relax his mind. He began to have headaches again, but tried to ignore them. During the following summer, he threw himself into a campaign to draw immigrant families out of the Catholic fold. Most of the miners in Iron River were a part of the pre-World War I exodus from Southern and Eastern Europe. Like most old-stock, Protestant Americans, Jim was appalled by the behavior of these men and women, and felt the Catholic Church was in large part to blame. He saw his mission to Iron River as a chance to influence the ideals of these Catholic workers and their families, almost none of whom attended his church. The Presbyterian Board of Home Missions was interested in Jim's efforts among the immigrants as well, and advised him that summer to make an informal census of the town, partly to answer specific questions and partly as a pretext for meeting and talking with these people. Jim was advised: "In �Iron River 131 your canvas I hope you will find some way of ascertaining what your people are thinking about. It is not adequate simply to say that so many people are Roman or Greek Catholic. What do they think of the church? Are they loyal to it? What is their affiliation with socialism?"8 "Socialism" was a scare word to the businessmen in the Iron River Presbyterian Church, filled as it was with the specter of violent labor unrest that a small mining town could ill afford to endure. But Jim thought these businessmen worried too much about their profits, and too little about the welfare of their workers. He told them so in a sermon called "Unsparing Helpfulness," and challenged his congregation to work out a plan to raise the moral level of the local Slavic people and to alleviate some of their grievances. The businessmen must be examples of Christian charity, or else "American standards will inevitably be sucked down by those Southern European standards—as a drowning man sucks down a rescuer-unless we raise them artificially to our level."9 But by the time Jim McClure proclaimed "Unsparing Helpfulness" from the pulpit, he began to face the prospect of leaving this work behind. He had not followed his father's advice, and now all of the old troubles with his health began to creep in and incapacitate him. In October he took a leave of absence, hoping to rest up and return. Two months later he officially resigned, with this letter. "After thorough examination by and careful deliberation with specialists it appears that there is no possibility of my immediate return to the pastorate. I feel further that a longer postponement of decision would be unfortunate. It is with sorrow and disappointment that I herefore tender my resignation of the pastorate ..." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Iron River Congregation, December 9, 1914). It was with very similar emotions that the congregation accepted his resignation. They responded with a resolution, adopted unanimously. Rev. McClure, in a period of less than one year, completely won the hearts of the people of Iron River. He impressed everyone with his sincerity, cordiality and common sense. . . . Under his care the work prospered greatly, as may be judged by the fact that forty-eight new members were received, and a large increase was made in the number of adherents . . . As a leader he drew both the weak and strong to him and called forth the best they had to give. We were drawn by his enthusiasm; we were held by his tact, and helped by his teaching. But Mr. McClure was a pastor to the community rather than to a single church. That an enterprise was for the public welfare was sufficient for it to claim his interest. He adapted himself strikingly to the peculiar needs of this community, holding firmly to his convictions, yet cheerfully admitting room for difference of opinion. He saw good in every man and in every creed. His numerous small acts of attention and kindness bound him to scores of the young and the mature. He seems to try not so much to find perfect men as to make better men. He regarded every man's conscience as sacred. In many cases he won the loyalty of those who naturally would have opposed him. �132 We Plow God's Fields Predbf tertan Church. Services* will be held on Sunday, 10, aii-follows: ' " t^JtS^'SSZ* 10 :30 a. ra., —Morning tterviee, Subject, /'TfeetChur^li |S;the inanity," , 7:30, p. m. — Baaing .service. ect Choosing ih$ 6*st Things. " ; James G. K. MtrClare, Jr., will preach at both morning at*d evening service*. Top: Gymnastic show brought to Iron River by Jim McClure. Bottom: Newspaper announcement. In letting Mr. McClure go we feel that our Church and our community has suffered a great loss. We wish him God-speed in his future life and work.10 The ways of the Lord are indeed inscrutable, for in a year's time that future life and work would take on an entirely new look for Jim McClure. But for now, all was the gloom of his ill-health with only the letters of his former parishioners to cheer him up. Gustavus R. Waeber wrote: It is difficult for me to express our feelings of regret and loss that your resignation has brought forth among us all. The hope of your returning to the Iron River pastorate has been with us at all times and our prayers have been for your speedy return, for we felt that we needed you here . . . It is we who have to thank you for the seed you have planted within us; altho your work at Iron River was only begun, I am convinced that it will have its lasting influence, marking the time when this congregation took its first steps �Iron River 133 toward a practical Christianity. (Gustavus R. Waeber to James G. K. McClure, Jr . . . Exact date unknown) A Mr. William H. Seldon wrote this rather personal note, offering as well a sure cure for his troubles: We miss you, and while we miss your presence and influence at all times, we miss you particularly Sunday evening at crackers and milk . . . I felt that you were working very hard last summer, and perhaps carrying too great a burden, but did not discover that it was affecting your health, in fact thought quite the reverse was the case, and that you seemed to become more vigorous under the pressure of hard work. Now I am going to prescribe a remedy, which I believe cannot fail to restore you to health, which is a summer spent in our Michigan woods, getting just as near to nature as possible .. . (William H. Seldon to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 20, 1914) One of the mine owners, Herbert Fisher, wrote Jim: Your resignation came in the form of a shock I assure you and the loss of your presence in this community was a real loss. I personally knew right along that I owed you a lot for the influence on my life and my family's, but I did not know how much that same influence had been to the whole community. I seldom go anywhere but what you are spoken of, and they seem so anxious for your welfare. Even tho you were here but a short time the people of Iron River will never forget you and the master you served.... (Herbert Fisher to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 16, 1915) Although Jim never returned to take up his post in Iron River, he never forgot his friends there either. He continued to send money to the Welfare League long after he had moved away, and that summer he sent one of his coats to the minister in the neighboring town, Reverend J. W. Helmuth, who wrote him back: Your letter came stating that I was to be the recipient of a frock coat and vest. In due time they arrived and I put on the coat and we all delighted to think you sent me so good a coat and made so well and such excellent fabric . . . I moderated the congregational meeting when they acted upon your resignation. Your letter when read made a great impression upon the people, and when I asked for statements from different persons bearing on the resignation, it was hard for them to speak (J. W. Helmuth to James G. K. McClure, Jr., June 28, 1915) Of all the letters he received from Iron River, one, more than the others, indicated to him that he had sown the seeds of Christian life there. George Terrill, a high school student, wrote Jim that spring: �134 We Plow God's Fields Dear King: Last Wednesday night I appeared before the Presbyterian Session to join the church on confession of my faith . . . I will have to be a good boy after this, which I am afraid I will find a hard thing to do altogether. But "one and God is a majority." (George Terrill to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 13, 1915) Iron River was an aborted start for Jim, but he did have a chance to try out some of his ideas. He saw himself as a crusader, not only making his church and Iron River a better community, but also trying to prove that religion still had a role to play in modern society, that Christianity could lead mankind forward. Many people, including Jim, thought that the institution of the church was a reactionary force, retarding progress by thwarting science. Jim wanted to disprove this view. He preached in Iron River, in January of 1914, elaborating on the Apostle Paul's vision of the church as a body with many parts (Romans 12). Forty-two parishioners came to church that morning, and listened as Jim preached "Is the Church Necessary in Modern Society?" You hear often criticisms of the Christian church and disparaging remarks about the church, remarks pointing to the idea that the church has finished its task and is becoming impotent. When I was studying for the ministry in Germany comparatively alone and with time for thought, I asked myself the question, "Is the church necessary in society today?" And after withholding my judgement for months and considering the question from all sides, I came to the conclusion that it was absolutely necessary today. He reviewed at some length the direct and indirect good done by the church in history, and attributed " . . . much of all that is brightest and best in our lives" to the influence of the church. Then he turned to the present. He quoted a judge who claimed that he had never tried and sentenced a youth who was a church member and attended Sunday School. The judge went on to say: The influence for good of the modern church is greater than the church's influence ever was before. The church has grown amazingly as the world's wisdom has increased, all statements to the contrary notwithstanding . . . 1 go about a good deal to the men's clubs of the churches, to deliver addresses upon one topic or another, I find their membership to be made up, not of milk and water youths, and doddering old men with a foot each in the grave and nothing to live for on this earth, but of energetic, fine young chaps of all ages, among them always, the best men of the neighborhoods in which the churches are located...." Having established the present moral influence of the church, Jim turned to the future. He said, Even if the church had had no past and were not existing at present, I believe that some such organization would be absolutely necessary for the future. We �Iron River 135 are in the midst of a vast historical movement. .. The organization of society is being called to the bar of judgement and being confronted by its sins. We are in a period of flux .. . We are in a position to inject into the organization of society, the spirit of the brotherhood of man. . . . He argued that, in order to establish the brotherhood of man, sweeping social changes would be necessary, and the church would have to be involved in making those changes take place. He talked about the redistribution of wealth, "making a simpler life the fashion," and the importance of helping the laborer see the importance of his contribution to society as a whole. In defense of the poor, he said: People often tell us that the poor are poor through their own fault, and [the] rich [are] rich through their own efforts, and one can cite instances enough of shiftlessness keeping men poor and industry making men rich to seem to prove this. But it is not true. There are any number of hard working, faithful, industrious men who are poor through no fault of their own and any number of comparatively worthless men rich through no fault of their own. He talked then about changing society through the efforts of "regenerated individuals, whose wills set justice above profit and policy, and whose vision is not warped by the desire for wealth." He urged the businessmen in his congregation to be seekers after justice, who will bring this "social gospel" to their business decisions, and so change society. He called for unity among Protestant Christians to accomplish this task. Then he concluded with this call to the church, which expresses the ideal he longed to see in the church throughout his life: The amount of power that a church has depends on the amount of selfsacrifice that goes into it and there lies before us, the possibility, by each one sacrificing time or pleasure, of making this church a great power in the community and in the lives of every one who comes in touch with it.11 Although Jim McClure left his mark on the Iron River Presbyterian Church, he was not able to achieve its perfecting as he had hoped. Nor did he ever, as it turned out, hold the position of pastor hi a church again. But he did have an influence on many churches in another part of the country. Before he could continue his life, however, he had to overcome the strange debility that crippled his work. Was it in fact his approach to that work that was the problem? Did he fight so hard against imperfect behavior in himself that eventually his emotional and physical equilibrium was destroyed? He had to find answers to these questions before he could go on to the active life he desired more than anything. 1. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Berlin notebook. 2. Church Bulletin for the ordination service, among the papers of James G. K. McClure, Jr. �136 We Plow God's Fields 3. James G. K. McClure, Jr., sermon given at Iron River (Michigan) Presbyterian Church, November 16, 1913. 4. Iron River notebook. 5. Iron River notebook. 6. Iron River notebook, including a photograph showing the Iron River ballfield. 8. Letter to James G. K. McClure, Jr., from The Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church, signed W.P. Shriver, August 10, 1914. 9. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Unsparing Helpfulness," sermon given at Iron River Presbyterian Church, September 27, 1914. 10. Resolution passed by the Congregation of the Iron River Presbyterian Church, December 29, 1914. Found among the personal papers of James G. K. McClure, Jr. 11. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Is the Church Necessary in Modern Society?" sermon given at Iron River Presbyterian Church, Sunday evening, January 11, 1914. �Chapter Nine Elizabeth Skinner Cramer Painting should be an accompaniment to life—it should be a means of stimulating the imagination and spiritual side of human beings to further development, and at its greatest epoch this is what it has always been. (Elizabeth S. Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 28, 1915) Since I have known you, I have somehow been "born again." (Elizabeth S. Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 2, 1916) In the summer of 1914 two unconnected tragedies conspired to bring Jim McClure and Elizabeth Cramer, daughter of a successful Chicago businessman who had been studying painting in France, back to their homes in Lake Forest. Jim returned from Iron River, discouraged and distressed over the breakdown of his health. In October, 1914, he requested an indefinite leave of absence from his duties as pastor from the Board of the Iron River Presbyterian Church. The work of preacher, pastor and town reformer had broken him again. By all accounts his efforts had been effective, and he was much beloved and respected by his congregation, but something remained terribly out of balance in his life. His old maladies flared up again, leaving him incapable of sustained work; so he was forced to leave the only church he would ever have under his care. That same summer Elizabeth Cramer was in France, busy painting. She had set up a household in the little village of Tripled with her friend and "chaperone," Miss Martha Clarke. The German attack on France effectively spoiled her dreams of intense artistic efforts. Trenches, mustard gas and casualties soon took hold of the popular and serious imagination alike, and art ceased to be the passion of Europe for some time to come. Elizabeth had been back and forth to France for several years. She was brought up in Lake Forest, the daughter of wealthy businessman Ambrose Cramer, and Susie Skinner Cramer. Elizabeth's mother had been known in her youth as a brilliant conversationalist, and was the favorite of Chicago society.1 Elizabeth's grandfather was Judge Mark Skinner, an important figure in the development of early Chicago. The Skinners were from New England, having been prominent in early Vermont history.2 The Cramer ancestors were from the Church of England settlements of Southern Ireland under Cromwell. Ambrose's great grandfather had come to Virginia in the 1700s. Ambrose grew up on a plantation, and watched the family fortune crumble during the Civil War. After a stint at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, he came to Chicago to recoup that 137 ��Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 139 Elizabeth reading on her lawn at Rathmore. fortune, and succeeded. The family moved to Lake Forest in 1896, when Elizabeth was eight. Two years later, her mother died. This was a tremendous loss for Elizabeth and for her younger brother Ambrose, Jr. When Elizabeth was thirteen, her father remarried. His new wife was Isabelle Corwith McGennis, who had a daughter around Elizabeth's age, also an Isabel. These two girls became dear Mends. As Elizabeth grew up she remained very close to her maiden aunts, Elizabeth and Frederika, the adoring older sisters of her mother, Susie. The Cramers were members of Lake Forest Presbyterian Church, and moved in the same circles as the McClures. They lived in a large brick house, "Rathmore," on the bluff above Lake Michigan, with a ravine beside it winding down to the lake. Elizabeth wrote a small book, which her father had bound in green leather, about the children's daily adventures called Life on the Bluff. Elizabeth and Isabel were inseparable friends of Harriet McClure, Jim's sister, throughout their school years in Lake Forest. It was through this friendship with Harriet that Elizabeth eventually met Jim. Opposite, top left: Elizabeth Skinner Cramer. Opposite, top right: Elizabeth with her father, Ambrose Cramer, and her brother, Ambrose, Jr. Opposite, bottom: Elizabeth swinging; brother Ambrose sits on ground at left (holding bow), with an unknown companion; step-sister Isabel at right. �140 We Plow God's Fields Elizabeth. Elizabeth had early shown a talent for art. As a little girl she had been delighted at winning a contest in St. Nicholas Magazine (until her mischievous brother Ambrose pointed out that the shadows of the pine trees in her drawing were slanted towards each other). At St. Timothy's School near Baltimore she and Isabel suffered under the petty regulations of a traditional boarding school, but her artistic ability continued to develop. Then, through a program of Miss Wheeler's School in Providence, Rhode Island, she was able to spend a summer painting in France. A small group of girls lived in Giverny, on die Seine, right next door to Claude Monet, who was then in his eighties. Elizabeth and Mildred Barrage, from Portland, Maine, watched him paint in the field beside his garden. He would set up eleven canvasses in different positions around a hay stack, then move every fifteen minutes as the light changed.3 �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 141 Elizabeth Cramer's pursuit of art was no mere whim of a grown-up school girl with nothing better to do. She had ability and she took her artistic education very seriously. Her father sent her to study art in Paris. There she imbibed the air of Impressionism, studying with an American impressionist, Richard Miller, who had earned a fine reputation in his day. Her considerable talent grew and developed. Her companion in art, Mildred Burrage, was equally dedicated. Both these young women felt that the techniques of painting were based on a firm philosophical foundation, or they were based on nothing at all. Mildred was a vivacious and active person who pursued her intellectual sources with something of a vengeance. A lively interaction of ideas grew up between her and Elizabeth, and greatly stimulated the latter's curiosity. An example of Mildred's scope of ideas is evident in the following letter, bringing in as well Jim's Mend and fellow Skull and Bones man, Rev. William Sloane Coffin. "... Mr. Coffin thinks we have gone back to where the Renaissance began in the 13th Century. Then men broke away from the Byzantine and Oriental standpoint and tried to accomplish realism—and that has been done—so now we are to go back to the East to get 'the record of a spiritual impressionism' ..." (Mildred Burrage to Elizabeth Cramer, January 8, 1909). Elizabeth felt a spiritual kinship with these Asian artists, who were seeking in nature a perfectly balanced beauty, but she and Mildred, like other artists in France, were still trying to comprehend the artistic revolution brought about by the Impressionists. In the meantime, Elizabeth had fallen in love with France: its people, its language, its landscape, its "influences." Lake Forest must have seemed to her crass and rather showy, a place where time had not been allowed to deepen and enrich either the look of the landscape or the thoughts of the people. Ambrose Cramer, like most of the men, enjoyed discussing business. Although that particular topic bored Elizabeth, her father's financial successes helped to pay for her French sojourn. In 1913 he helped her buy a lovely little house in the village of Trdpied near Etaples-sur-Mer, a noted artistic community. She invited an older friend, Martha Clarke, to live with her. Mildred Burrage and another young American artist, Julie Turner, planned to join them. Miss Clarke, affectionately known as "Wiggy Wags" or "Wiggy," came from Antrim in Northern Ireland. She was well educated but had limited financial resources, and she lived with the American girls and one or two friends as a companion, teacher and chaperone. The exact relationship is lost in the mists of the conventions of the time, but the fact of their mutual admiration was clear enough from their letters. Elizabeth began to correspond with her before the Trfcpied house was purchased, in the winter of 1913 when the Cramer family was touring Italy. She collected great quantities of postcards to send back to Wiggy in France, with comments such as these: "Don't you think this fat angel is a darling? . . . It's the nicest thing in all St. Peters I really think, and it's tucked away in the vestry ..." and "These little monks are such darlings that I had to send them to you! Do you suppose Fra Angelico's contemporaries ever did look like these two little ducks!" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, winter of 1913) �142 We Plow God's Fields Elizabeth's lovely world of Fra Angelico's monks and fat angels exploded with the first shells of the Great War. Trfcpied was located in the northeast corner of France, just across the channel from England in the old province of Picardy. Centuries before, Flemish immigrants had brought the cloth trade to the region, and enough prosperity and foreign influence to tempt other powers of the region to try to pry it loose from the French. Since the Hundred Years War, this area had been a small splinter in a larger bone that has been fought over constantly. In August of 1914, with Elizabeth and Wiggy having just settled in, the Kaiser began his sweep through Belgium, just shy of Trepied, with the most superb war machine the world had yet seen. Her prior concerns, such as planting and managing the little garden in her yard and trying to remove the "horrid" concrete walk, a job her brother Ambrose, who was travelling in France, had promised to do for her, became irrelevant in the face of these events. Ambrose, nicknamed Pedro, made a mad dash for Trfcpied to help his sister leave the country. Her mother's indomitable maiden sisters, Miss Elizabeth (Bessy) and Frederika (Freddy), were visiting their niece, staying at a nearby inn. This little American society in France was caught by surprise, and the swirling excitement that ensued quite thrilled Elizabeth. She described in a letter to her parents the series of events that led to their escape to England. Here we are safe & sound in London . . . It was absolutely impossible to get any reliable information at Etaples. A week ago . .. nobody even dreamed of such a thing as war. Everybody knew of course, about the Austrian-Serbia business but absolutely nothing else was known . . . When the news of Germany's ultimatum came we gloomily decided that we should probably have to leave . . . Saturday morning everything was quiet as usual . . . We all went bathing . . . & the only indication of anything out of the way was the long line of people in front of the Banque Adam cashing money. We all had a hilarious lunch together at noon & I went over to Paris-Plage where Aunt Bessy and Aunt Freddy were staying to have dinner with them. At four O'clock came the sudden news that the men were to mobilize at once. A trumpeter rode through the streets reading the proclamation & inside of two hours the men were leaving for the front. The waiters in the hotels left instantly—in the Casino the head-waiter came in and said that he was very sorry but he "could serve no more tea." There was no excitement & no noise. . . . [the] Aunties and Miss Clarke and I decided we had better go in to Etaples & find out what was happening at the Mayor's office. We managed to cram into the little tram that ran into Etaples in company with countless men who were leaving at once for the army. It was then only 6 o'clock & the order for general mobilization had come at four & the men were already on the way. It was unbelievably swift. They all seemed eager & ready & one man said "Well if it had to come this is the best time." Ever so many of the men in the little tram car looked as though they had just come from their work in the fields; their clothes were tied up in handkerchief bundles & they had not even had time to change their working clothes . . . we tried to get a wagon to take us back to Trepied but there were no men left to drive the horses. Finally we �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer Left: Elizabeth. Right: With brother Ambrose in Southern France, ca. 1913. did manage to find an old, old man who took us home. Nobody yet believed there would really be war. Everybody insisted that the mobilization was merely a precautionary measure . . . We were told Sunday that "foreigners" would not be allowed to leave until they had seen the mayor of Tifcpied Monday afternoon. That of course meant the loss of another day. We spent all Monday trying to close the house & pack up a few things . . . In the afternoon the mayor told us that we could not leave France without a pass-port from Arras which might take from two to three weeks to secure. He also said that no tickets would be issued on the railway to Boulogne as the trains would be needed for the troops . . . All this had come about in one day-it seemed simply unbelievable. "All I can do for you" the mayor said, "is to give you permits to stay in Trepied in order that you may not be seized as suspicious persons." Well we got our permit anyway and then I tell you we got busy. Somehow or other aunties had been able to get hold of a motor & truck .. . There were no men left to drive but they managed to secure a woman chauffeur. We determined to motor to Boulogne then & there & see what we could do about leaving for England. That afternoon the order had been published for the mobilization of all motor cars & horses on Tuesday so that if we didn't get away that day goodness knows when we ever should . . . We left Trfcpied at four o'clock for Boulogne & were stopped several times by armed soldiers. You can't think how exciting it was—it didn't seem real for a minute & everybody said that we should never get through. The railroad tracks were guarded by soldiers & all the river bridges, but there was no excitement, only a kind of fierce determination to kill the Germans. At Boulogne there was the most fearful crowd of people on the docks I have 143 �144 We Plow God's Fields ever imagined. There was a frightful crush & at times it came near to panic. We all got separated from each other & from Ambrose who was buying the tickets & we were nearly squeezed to death. I don't know how Aunties ever survived .. . Some how or other Miss Clarke managed to find Ambrose with our tickets & in turn she found each one of us. Once we had our tickets we could at least try to get on board. The crowd pushed and jammed so that we were perfectly unable to find each other & the first thing I knew poor Aunt Freddy in a half fainting state was pushed up the gang-way by two officials & onto die ship. After a long time we saw Aunt Bessy pushed on. Then after an interminable interval I squeezed up to the entrance. A French soldier grabbed me by the arm & said "Vous etes anglaise." I said "no"—whereat they pushed me back & said "you can't get on without a passport." I was only conscious of being perfectly enraged and as soon as I could, I bobbed up again & tried to get by the French soldier but he pushed me back again in the same way. Ever so many people were being turned back & I couldn't imagine how aunties had succeeded. Finally I managed to go up a third time & when the officer told me I couldn't get on I told him he'd just have to let me on & that if I wasn't English I was at least part Irish & that I would keep turning up until he let me on ... The officer looked at me hard & finally said "Laissez passer les femmes" with which they shot me up the gang-way . .. when Pedro [Ambrose] turned up he said he'd gotten on by dint of his beautiful British accent acquired at Cannes! Poor Aunt Bessy and Aunt Freddy had looked so ill that the officers had been obliged to hustle them on It was a thrilling sight going across the channel. The full moon shone through masses of jagged clouds & the great line of French battleships absolutely dark—without a light anywhere about them was beyond measure impressive. Tremendous searchlights played up & down the harbor & through the sky seeking for the enemy's airships. . . . The next night, about one o'clock, we were awakened by the most tremendous shouting & singing. "God Save the King," "The Marseillaise," "Britons never, never will be Slaves" & the most tremendous hurrahing & shouting. War had been declared between Great Britain & Germany. At present Pedro is moving heaven & earth to get passage to America . . . it's a cheerless thought to feel that we may be blown up by indiscriminate German mines on the sea or captured by one of their warships! . . . Yesterday evening Pedro & I saw Lord Kitchener come out of the War office. The crowd around the war office were beside themselves with enthusiasm. The cheering almost made me want to fight too! . . . I wonder if in America you have any idea of how thrilling it is here. (Elizabeth Cramer to her parents, October 25, 1914) Ambrose secured, with much difficulty, reservations on a British ship, the Royal George. When he brought the good news back to his ladies, Aunt Bessie flung up her hands and recited, "Down went the Royal George, With all three hundred men!" The Aunts refused to go on such an ill-starred ship. The earliest passage that Ambrose could find was for October, so he and Elizabeth went over to �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 145 Ireland to visit their Cramer relatives in the tiny sea coast town of Castle Townshend, County Cork. The Coghills and Somervilles had been living there since the mid-eighteenth century. Sent originally to help maintain order amongst the "wild Irish," they lived in sympathy and harmony with them. Edith Somerville's books on Irish country life were just receiving acclaim in England. There Elizabeth met her cousin, Sir Kendall Coghill, veteran of the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny. He had the power to hypnotise and used it to save suffering in the primitive hospitals at the front (even for amputations!) In Ireland she also met people who accepted fairies as a part of life, and she read Dracula in a lonely tower room in the Coghill family's rambling stone edifice, Glenn Barahan. The Cramer entourage finally sailed back to America on the S. S. Olympic, surrounded by the uncertainties of war. After docking Elizabeth hurried back to Lake Forest, looking forward to her old room at "Rathmore," the family home. Her friend Harriet McClure was now the wife of Douglas Stuart, a smart young businessman who worked for Quaker Oats. Harriet was beginning to take on the responsibilities her parents had raised her to accept. Among other things, she served on the board of directors of the Day Nursery, a child care center in Chicago. Working women brought their children to the nursery to be cared for during the day. Harriet thought if only the place could be made less drab, what a wonderful improvement that would be. With her old friend Elizabeth home, she knew just the artist to take on the project. The board voted to provide the money, and Elizabeth accepted the job. Later in October of 1914 she wrote to Wiggy, who had remained in France to guard the house and work as a volunteer nurse: What do you suppose? I have a lovely job at last. You've heard me speak of the Day Nursery I'm sure. Well Harriet McClure asked me if I wouldn't decorate it right off now & of course I am only too delighted. It's a large room where the poor women leave their kids while they work . . . I had Hetty & Douglas Stuart & Jim McClure to dinner & we all had a really charming time. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, October 29, 1914) A week later, Jim McClure again appears at the dinner table with Elizabeth: "Saturday I went . . . to spend Sunday with Harriet Stuart & her husband. Jim McClure & I were the only guests. Jim had come down from Iron Mountain (where he has a church) for a rest, and we all had a delightful old time visit" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, November 5, 1914). That particular occasion ended abruptly when brother Ambrose called with an urgent message that Aunt Bessy, on a trip, had been admitted to a Washington, D.C. hospital and required immediate surgery. Ambrose asked Elizabeth to go right to her Aunt's bedside. Jim McClure volunteered to drive her to the train, " . . . so I packed my bag and went as far as Evanston with Jim where I caught the 3:39 train ..." (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, November 5, 1914). Aunt Bessy recovered fully from her operation, and Elizabeth returned �146 We Plow God's Fields home again. But something quite momentous had taken place. The little trip to the train station proved to be a most propitious event. Elizabeth wistfully recalled a year later her feelings that day in a letter to Jim. "I have just remembered that this coming Sunday a year ago we were at Hetty's and poor Aunt Bessy was suddenly laid in the dust and you were so nice & friendly about helping me to get off. Do you remember sitting on the bench in the sun at Evanston waiting for the Lake Forest train to come in, and talking? A year can sometimes be a very long time" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., October 29, 1915). And so it was to be. By early December she began to suspect that Jim was showing her special attention. She wrote to Wiggy, who was the confidante she did not have in her kind but distant stepmother, that she dreaded his "getting such ideas in his head," for she considered him just an old friend of rare charm and interest. One of the signs of Jim's interest was his persistence. If she declined an invitation he asked her again. He invited her to go with him to the Art Institute in Chicago. He sent her articles and books. She wrote to him " . . . I like being poked up and I am immensely grateful to the person who does it and a mere 'thank you' is not at all adequate to the occasion" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 15, 1914). Jim stimulated her thoughts in the religious realm, and it was perhaps at his suggestion that she read a book called The Inside of a Cup. She reviews it for Wiggy, revealing a good deal about herself at the same time: It is not in the least a "work of art," or literature either, for that matter, but it is the best interpretation of modern Christianity that I ever read anywhere and you must read i t . . . 1 nearly burst with joy when I found a good many of my own "heretical" views being trumpeted forth as the essence of Christianity . . . The minister in it is very much like my unorthodox clerical friend Jim, who informed me yesterday that he meant to do his level best to rid the Church of "outworn doctrines" and "archaic forms" & that he thought the creeds ought to be thrown out root & branch! I like reformers & I like fighters & anybody who can do that . . . is both. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, December 9, 1914) Again she wrote to Wiggy: My parson friend comes to see me all the time & we converse on the most revolutionary topics. I have a feeling that he will end up by being "unfrocked" but he's just the sort of man the churches need and I don't think he'd stop at anything, but the poor dear has got a dreadfully hard row to hoe in the face of all the old Presbyterian members of the session & the stick-in-the-mud formalists who rule the church boards. He has so much real charm, and is such a favorite socially that it is extraordinary to find such single-mindedness and virility besides. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, December 16, 1914) �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 147 Meanwhile, Jim's doctors advised him to spend the winter in a more agreeable climate than Chicago. He was urged, in fact, to give his famous single-mindedness a good, long rest. His cousins, the Sages, were more than happy for him to visit them at their Santa Barbara home, so after Christmas he decided to make his move to California. With such a long absence from Lake Forest imminent, he thought he had better clarify matters with Elizabeth, known among her friends as Siddy. How painful for even the most courageous and charming of young men to broach the subject of love. There had been a heavy fall of snow and he came for her in a cutter, a one-horse sleigh, and they drove all around the McCormick's ravine. "The vivid moonlight on the trees was a sort of fairy land," she wrote to Wiggy. Jim only asked her if she was engaged to anyone? When she said "No," he was silent for a long time and then said, "Well the first thing for me to do is to get well quick." No more was said about the subject, but Elizabeth told Wiggy she thought Jim felt he could not ask her to marry him as long as he was ill and could not support her. She continued: I think I told you that he'd broken down this fall and had been obliged to lay off . . . Jim is one of these ardent tremendously interested people who go until they drop & never consider themselves. He has had a church at an awful place called Iron Mountain—miners & such likes & he boarded at a drummer's hotel & not only ran the church all alone but tried to do an awful lot of social work in the town, besides, amongst the 'Bums' and the bad lot. The consequence was he had to resign the church which was a blow. She felt that he would probably ask her to marry him when he returned from California in April and admitted: I like him immensely, we both have a good many crazy, socialistic ideas about things which make us extremely congenial and I admire him very much . . . I'm not in love with him but then I don't really know him—it's been years and years since I've really seen him as we've both been away— but it is perfectly possible that if he were very much in love with me & made me feel it—it might—in time—create that feeling in me. I don't want to be in love with him because I want to be free to do nothing but paint & live with you . . . so I'll fight against it, if that feeling ever should come. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, January 4, 1915) Jim McClure's removal to Santa Barbara marked off a breathing space in his affections toward Elizabeth. He needed not only to get well, but also to be sure the healing process was providing a permanent cure. He and Elizabeth thought almost continuously about one another, their future together, and the obstacles and uncertainties that plague all romances. They were both mature adults who could articulate and often even understand their personal feelings. The social labyrinth they had to negotiate in a proper Victorian courtship insured a slow pace to their romance, and their ages and temperaments reduced even further the chances of an impetuous decision. �148 We Plow God's Fields In California, Jim did manage to achieve one victory of sorts. Never before, or afterwards, did he play golf so well. On what must have been a glorious winter's day at the Santa Barbara Country Club, Jim achieved a "select score" of sixty-six, seven strokes under par.4 liie slow pace of Jim's present life gave him time to wonder, not only about Elizabeth, but also about many other issues that touched his life. He kept a rambling notebook of thoughts and ideas, allowing us to peer into his concerns of 1915-16. The physical debility that kept flaring up caused him the greatest worry, because until he could overcome this problem, none of his other dreams would ever be realized. He found great solace in the gospel of Luke. There he found a Jesus with a "spirit of abandon, insouciance, gaiety, recklessness . . . [who] based everything on [an] unrestrained life of spirit & full speed ahead-... Do not bother about what you are to eat or drink: God clothes lilies, he will clothe you... ."5 Jim sought just this vision of Christian freedom in his life; he felt that Christ's life was a beautiful example of a man divorcing himself from anxiety, letting himself become-a perfect instrument of God's will and ceasing to care about the material preoccupations of the world. If only he could achieve this freedom, his mind and body would stop rebelling against his desire to carry out God's will. Jim also wanted to lead a rebellion against the spiritless and dreary practices of the Christianity of the day, which he felt dammed up its potential. Religion must be lively .. . The Man in the pulpit must realize that he is trying to inject into life a force more powerful than any other. A lively force, that will turn a man inside out, change him, drive him, carry him thru the mud of life & thru a long distance run ... The Organist should play hymns jig-time . . . I do not believe Christ would have boasted about his family tree & ancestors as many do today. He probably would have hidden the fact & tried to make good himself... If Heaven is what it is often cracked up to be, a lead pipe cinch, etc. I do not want to go there until all the misery & wrong is removed from the world. I would prefer living in the worst hell hole in the slums & trying to make it better.. .6 And yet, there he was surrounded by the luxuries of an exclusive resort, where everyone was " . . . going about as if life was a soft snap—motors, golf, idleness."7 He moaned about the expenses of his hostess, Mrs. Sage, who thought nothing of spending $4,650 to rent a private railroad car in order to tour America, while that same winter many wage earners were without work and their families were hard pressed to feed themselves. "Mrs. Sage is as kindly, generous, dear old lady as you can find—she means to do the right thing, on the other hand, men & women are starving."8 Clearly, Jim felt great discomfort in his own social position. At times he wished he could have been a nameless urchin pitting himself against all the evil forces of the day without a good name and comfortable friends to fall back on. He saw the "difficulty in a place like Lake Forest where no one is an out & out worker of evil . . . in Iron River the �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 149 saloons & saloon keepers drew a sharp line—children were brought up to feel they must fight the saloon. Life is a battle & they lined up. The Saloon element would knock their blocks off in a dark alley, if they opposed."9 In the Progressive Era Jim saw himself as a rebel, both by temperament and by choice. He threw his weight in with the reformers who want to overturn the established social order, and yet he recognized the tendency in himself and those like him to " . . . throw out the baby with the dirty water...." He went on: "Certain individuals are born rebels—grow by rebelling, by taking the opposite side. This is the way the world keeps from stagnating, by the introduction continually of these people. They have a divine office. But they are in danger of rebelling negatively. They must take it upon themselves to rebel constructively—to better what they see is wrong . . . We need rebels, & should welcome them but their lot is a hard one—construction is harder than destruction."10 Even though Jim leveled broad attacks against Victorian piety, in some of his prejudices he was out of step with the most progressive of his brethren. First of all, the literary trend towards realism and naturalism chilled his emotions, in part because they pictured man in a determined world helplessly hemmed in by forces beyond his manipulation. He much preferred the Victorian morality play, shoe-shine boy to bank president, over the stories of Dreiser and Norris and writers of their ilk. He wrote, "Many 'realistic novels' are not true to life; they simply see things without the vision. The vision is more real than the thing itself."11 He always felt that novels, and later movies, were a wonderful vehicle to raise the hopes of men and women, to give people a lift and encourage them to work hard for a better world. But when a book or a movie left one in despair, he felt progress was thwarted. Jim also found it difficult to tolerate the Roman Catholic Church, a long standing McClure position. Back in Chicago, Elizabeth Cramer was intent on her work at the Day Nursery, locking horns with her own sense of social responsibility. She was desperate to inspire the little children of the Day Nursery, and their parents, with the same joy in beauty that meant everything to her life. The murals she painted there would eventually win great acclaim for Elizabeth. By January, the basic designs were worked out. The average size of the three works was to be ten feet by seventy-six inches, quite a large space for a painter to fill. The pictures were to be based on three nursery rhymes: "Jack Sprat and his Wife," "Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary" and "Curly Locks, Curly Locks, Wilt Thou Be Mine?" Elizabeth sent this general description of the designs to Wiggy. "Little figures against a balustrade . . . with an occasional pillar now and then, big vines sweeping down across the skyline & distant country that you look off at with winding rivers, trees & little villages. It's more fun than a goat..." (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, January 12, 1915). Behind all of her effort was a new vision of the purpose of an artist, a vision very much influenced by her talks with Jim McClure. �150 We Plow God's Fields Isn't it funny how the minute you begin to do anything with an eye to using it for the good of other people that thing at once becomes immensely interesting and worthwhile in itself. It seems as though we had to relate our lives or rattier what we do with our lives to the people about us & just as soon as we do that, things become really thrilling. It's so queer & that was what was & is the matter with so many painting people—they don't connect their "life work" with the needs in the world about them. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, January 26, 1915) These "decorations" were Elizabeth's connection to the world about her. The patrons of the Day Nursery were the Chicago tenement dwellers so much on the Progressive mind. Elizabeth was sure that beauty in itself, no matter how imperfect, would move people emotionally, encourage them, and give them hope and new vision. By placing these pictures in the daily world of all these mothers and their children, the power of beauty might help to lift up their lives. The more cynical thought she was wasting her time, hoping to make silk purses out of the rabble of Chicago. .. . People have said to me that they think it is practically a waste of time to spend so much time & effort on things that are going up in a place "where they won't really be appreciated." "Something else not requiring nearly as much effort would please them just as much" the old wheezes say. It makes me so mad but I understand what is in the back of their minds. They are thinking of the replicas of Greek statues & the Braun photographs of Italian paintings & all that sort of thing that the "uplift" people are always putting around settlement walls. Of course those things don't mean much to the people. It's not because the "masses" don't appreciate & want beauty it's simply that beauty expressed in terms of Greek goddesses & Italian renaissance ladies is simply unintelligible to them—before everything else it's "queer" to them. It's the interpretation of a life & epoch that Westside Chicago can't figure out at all . . . I am convinced that the masses always respond to beauty when it reflects or interprets what they can understand. I've tried to keep this in mind in painting these decorations & by Jimmy they are so awfully simple & obvious & everydayish that the little North Avenue children really like them & enjoy them and so do the North Avenue mothers & aunts . .. I'm sure that the "masses" in America don't get beauty enough. They're just crazy for it & by gum I don't think I'm being foolish or quixotic. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, 1915) Jim encouraged her in the work and Elizabeth's justification of it, telling her she had discovered the very reason to paint. He went on to explain that by catching a sense of the beauty in these pictures, these "Westside people" would be in direct contact with Christ's spirit, thus raising their ideas and vision of life's possibilities. In her return letters, she loved to describe her efforts at the Day Nursery and her thoughts for Jim. �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 151 I am up to my ears in the Day Nursery pictures . .. We [a Mend who had painted with her in France, Julie Thompson, was helping her] pasted huge sheets of butcher's paper together & then carried them in bodily to the Day Nursery where we tacked them to the walls and drew the designs as they were to be, right onto the paper. We spent three fervid days of climbing step ladders and falling off of them and swallowing clouds of ancient Day Nursery dust that we had disturbed from its hallowed resting place on the top of picture moldings and doors . .. The Day Nursery Playroom is a miserable narrow high room that gives you the impression of prison walls and it has been a most interesting proposition to make it seem wider and lower by the use of certain lines and masses. The children persisted in swarming about the step-ladders a large part of the time and narrowly escaped complete annihilation but their excitement was something unbounded and all sixty filled the air with criticism, enthusiasm, and . . . instructions as to how we might improve our labours. In spite of threats and cries of rage from me on the stepladder, they played London Bridge with joyful abandon, right under it, & then, with a Biblical precedent to guide them, they impersonated Sampson and struggled to bring down the roof by grappling with the pillars of my support. I was mindful that the jawbone of an ass had once laid low the Philistines .. . Next day, Julie and I in the proverbial "wiser, sadder" frame of mind crawled out of bed before dawn and made much headway at the Nursery before the arrival of the sixty Dreadnaughts!. . . (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 24, 1915) In a month's time, Elizabeth wrote to Jim about more of her ideas. "The dreadful part about ideas is that half the fun of getting them is sharing them with somebody else ..." she said. The letter continued: Our things for the Day Nursery are slowly progressing but the hardest work is about done & I shall go off to California with a free mind. I've found out all sorts of things about painting. I told you that for a long time I had had a sneaking fear that the business of going off into a pleasant corner & painting two foot square "pictures" was never going to mean much to anybody. Once or twice I said this to people who I thought might help straighten me out but they always looked so astonished that I finally decided that it was no use that I never would find out why I felt the way I did. No other painting people seemed at all bothered that way excepting a girl with whom I had worked a great deal off & on—a very special friend [Mildred Burrage]. Then all of a sudden, last Spring, we ... found out for ourselves that art was never worth anything except when it was related to life; that painting was only vitally important & significant when it was an actual factor in the spiritual development of the race. The trouble with us was that what we had been doing was artificial and meaningless. We spent all our time doing ladies under trees and at tea tables or painting landscapes that had a certain amount of charm. Our things were reasonably presentable & they gave the people who saw them a certain momentary emotional thrill but that was absolutely all. We had never used our minds a moment in the whole process; we were perfectly satisfied to express a mood rather than an emotional truth,... It isn't so much the subject that counts in art as it is what you may discover in the subject that is significant �152 We Plow God's Fields & universal & worthy of being recorded. Everything hi the world is an expression of the Spirit one way or another, I suppose, & in painting it's up to you to find that out & put it down whether the subject is an Annunciation or a polo game. Painting should be an accompaniment to life—it should be a means of stimulating the imagination & spiritual side of human beings to further development, and at its greatest epochs this is what it has always been. In the thirteenth & fourteenth & fifteenth centuries artists realized that they were just as important and necessary as plumbers are now. They realized that it was their business to make life more beautiful & more significant to the people about them & they got right to work & did i t . . . There's just as great a need for art now as there was then but very few artists are supplying this need. The trouble is they devote all their time to doing clever stunts; or to getting an emotional effect of sun & shadow, or to painting a mood. That's why our art exhibits are such fearful bores for the most part. You go to them in search of bread & you receive a stone. You give a few admiring gasps at somebody's clever "realism" or somebody else's "interesting brushwork" but after all you come away with a dissatisfied, disappointed heart! It is very rare that you come away with a feeling that your spiritual eyes have been opened, that you have responded to 'somebody's revelation of a great truth. You almost never feel, after a dose of this sort, that life is tremendously worth living. That all this should be so is very bad business. The proof of the pudding is, perhaps, that on the other hand, the average human being cannot go into a Gothic cathedral without being carried quite out of himself,—he cannot see the Greek temples at Paestum and go away unchanged,—he cannot see a Botticelli fresco hi an old convent, or a drawing by Holbein, or a statue by Rodin without being convinced that the life of the Spirit is the only thing that matters in the end . .. If these things that we're doing for the Day Nursery mean anything, they ought to mean a lot! The decorations, if they are any good, should make the children realize- unconsciously—that there is an order & a beauty and a joyfulness in life that is greater than anything they have yet come in contact with. They ought to create an impression that, were they to analyze it, would make them dissatisfied with dirt and evil and conscious of a better order of things somehow attainable. Of course, to these little mites, the decorations will be primarily amusing—that is all, I suppose, that they will be directly conscious of, but nobody can be really amused without being interested & to be interested is to be open to many influences. Of course our things are bound to fall a long way short of doing all this, ... [but] perhaps the next time I do a decoration, it will have a creative influence. Mildred & I are just bursting to do a Sunday School, —white walls & big decorative panels from the Parables or the Life of Christ set in the walls, and blue flower pots with pink geraniums in the windows & queer little blue chairs for the children to sit on. Don't you think it would be nice & don't you think the children would have a different feeling about Sunday School in a room like that? One could do the Parables in a very simple, human appealing way .. . I was immensely interested in what you said about substituting the word Life for God in some of the New Testament sayings. It is extraordinary how revealing such a change can be. A year ago for many reasons, I was all tangled up and I wasn't sure whether there really was anything to work for. But now I know what Christ meant by "the Kingdom of God" and as you once said, �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 153 just because "God needs man's help," human life is significant when it is expressed in terms of service. When you realize that Christ impressed it upon his hearers that perfection is attainable & that all one's efforts should be directed to such an end, it puts a new meaning into life. But when I was a child, I was taught the dreadful gloomy doctrine that no matter how much you strive for perfection around you in this world it was no use really because you were merely "human" & Christ was "Divine"—and yet; you were to go on trying just the same . . . This is a very long queer letter for me to be writing to you but we did talk about these things and somehow or other my inky tongue has pursued an unbridled course. That A.C.C. [her brother] letter paper was so inviting (fortunately the supply has come to an end!) It has such a leisurely expansive air! You can't help being conversational on paper like that whereas my variety is the tall, crabbed species that spells moderation & sedately chaperones your pen! . . . Sincerely, 'Sid' (What a funny stubby name! I feel apologetic for this document. I had no idea of its length!!) (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 28, 1915) This author makes no such apologies, and is only grateful that the A.C.C. stationery held out as long as it did. Jim McClure was becoming involved with a remarkable woman. By a stroke of good fortune, Elizabeth and her family were leaving in a week's time for a trip out West, and Santa Barbara was on the itinerary. Leaving a slowly thawing Lake Forest for the sunshine of California, the Cramer entourage included Aunts Bessy and Freddy and young Ambrose. For Jim McClure, it would mean a short rendezvous with Elizabeth, and he looked forward to the visit with all of the expectations and fears of a young man in love. Perhaps his golfing scores began to balloon upwards as he began dividing up and filling in the time she would be with him, wondering exactly what activities would please her the most. Fortunately, Jim was the sort of man with friends scattered everywhere, and right nearby he had one who was a painter! The Cramers were all house guests of their cousins the Bakers, who claimed a spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean in one direction and the mountains in the other. To Wiggy, Elizabeth sent her confidential report on the fruits of Jim's efforts: In about five minutes Jim is coming for me in his motor to go up to Russel Cheney's studio to see his paintings. Do you remember hearing Mildred speak of him? . . . He is also a great friend of Jim's . . . We had such an entertaining time the other night. The children plus the Reverend James have been planning a concert for weeks. Isabelle & young Grace Meeker [who had sparked a romance with Elizabeth's brother Ambrose] being the star performers on combs, Mary Baker on a concertina & Jim the master of a dreadful instrument called a "humanatone" that he manipulated somehow with his nose! Ambrose & I were drawn into the thing so I got a cheap fiddle down town & Ambrose took the part of Orchestra leader . . . It was very amusing & absurd; the night of the performance the "artists" were all asked to come dressed to dinner, so I roughed & curled my "short" hair until it stood out around my head like a �154 We Plow God's Fields regular German Genius. Then I wore my black goggles & Father's evening coat, collar & shirt. I was a sight! But I did look the part even to the legion of honor button. It was a huge joke because I sat next to Mrs. Sage (Jim's cousin) at dinner & she was so surprised she pretty nearly went under the table. Naturally she had a lively curiosity as to what I was like & when she was introduced to "Monsieur Jaques Thibaut" a wild mass of ... terrier hair & black goggles, I wish you could have seen her face! (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, March 17, 1915) Monsieur Thibaut and her Cramer clan ended their short visit, leaving Jim to himself and his golf. They went off to view some more of the wonders of California, as her next letter to him reveals. Dear Jim, After several days of intense enthusiasm in the Yosemite Valley, we are back again in San Francisco. We spent most of four days driving behind a bouncing stage and eight horses. It is an amazing place. Everything was somehow on a superlative scale. The "Big Trees" are the most extraordinary things in the world & it is all I can do not to give you detailed accounts of just how high & how thick they were . . . I do hope your head isn't bothering you,—I have somehow a feeling inside me that you should not write long letters even to a very appreciative lady friend, for I know what a fatiguing business it is when you are not feeling up to the mark. These, sir, are sage words . . . What you said about the possibility of really attaining perfection had a very special meaning because in your case it was backed up by actual experience. It must have been a thrilling kind of life to make those Iron Mountain people realize just what they were up against,-but every now & then I keep thinking how did you do it,—how could you always give them what they demanded, how could you so interpret their own needs when the intellectual stimulus in a place like Iron Mountain must have been very slight, very meagre? How could you do it! All this is very personal but when we passed through the dreary little Kansas towns with their hideous frame houses and their dingy streets I tried to imagine myself living in just such a place,—it was a kind of test after all our conversations,—and somehow or other every bit of self confidence seemed to leave me and I had a dreadful feeling that in spite of everything I had said, six months in such a place would use up every thought, every worth while emotion I had ever had & that in a little while I would be going about with a dead spirit in a living body. Because, if you give & give to people and nothing in the way of spiritual or intellectual stimulus comes back to you why how can you go on living? But perhaps the answer to all that is again in Christ. When He said, over & over again, "The Kingdom of God is within you" isn't it simply making a definite amazing statement that the life of the spirit can after all be best renewed from within; that prayer, in the highest meaning of the word is a source of eternal life to the spirit,—that in seeming to lose all, one gains everything? I don't know; when I said something like this to you a little while ago you said that you too were dependent on outside stimulus. And yet, one thing is certain. Christ, who possessed one of the richest minds the world has ever known, lived in surroundings that demanded all of him that gave him �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 155 almost nothing in return. The people he came in contact with had for the most part simple untutored minds. The poverty and sordidness about him must have been immeasurably alive. Nothing in the life of Christ seem to me more significant testimony than that. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., April 11, 1915) With what beautiful encouragement Elizabeth Cramer gathers up the threads of Jim's life into a poignant sermonette. She too worships the hero Jesus of Nazareth, who effortlessly waded into the sordidness of first century Palestine without obvious encouragement and cultural sustenance. Could it be that the kingdom within, the power of the Almighty, might sustain one in the desert of poverty? Or maybe there is nourishment after all, a world "immeasurably alive." Both Jim in Iron River and Elizabeth at her Day Nursery were seeking answers. For Jim, the practical question remained, "How can I 'lose my life' to the gospel, and yet remain healthy?" He had to solve this riddle, not only to carry on his work, but to propose marriage to Elizabeth. As she left California, Jim's spirit—the health of his spirit—weighed heavily on her thoughts as well. Was the California cure working its magic? When would he be able to come back to be with her? She writes to Miss Clarke about the present state of his malady, going on to outline some of the thoughts the two of them had been sharing. He is better—but he said that he wasn't as much better as he had hoped to be ... Older people shake their heads & say "he ought to leave the ministry & take up something less absorbing & less taxing" but he won't hear of it. He is confident that once he is well again he can go back to his job, & it is a job that he is perhaps peculiarly fitted for because he has a fine mind, a rare quality of charm & sympathy & an ability to meet people on their own ground. At heart he is a reformer & a radical but he has much tact & a way of looking at every question from many sides. At Iron Mountain parish . . . he lived hi a perfectly crazy sort of way. He had a room in a drummer's hotel & ate there with all sorts of people & he worked like a dog every minute to change social conditions which in a mining town are apt to be pretty bad. He said himself that the people he was up against were the kind who felt that a minister had an easy berth & an easy job & that the only way he could get a hold of them was to work harder than anybody else. That he did with the result that at the end of ten months he was knocked out. What makes me hopeful however is that he has never been to a real nerve specialist & they are bound to give a treatment that is different even from that of the best general practitioner. In the meantime we are both the richer for a friendship that is very real & very stimulating—a friendship that is based on a community of ideas & that is constantly opening up new paths in many directions . . . [Jim] thinks that humanity will get rid of poverty just as it has freed the world from the Plague & from certain other horrors & that once this is done, the "Kingdom of God" will come far more swiftly. But charity is never going to do it. Charity is only a poor substitute for justice & love. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, March 29, 1915) �156 We Plow God's Fields Springtime in Chicago drew Jim away from the eternal summer of California, where his homemade "cure" had produced only a meagre improvement. He decided to take a more professional approach toward better health. He found a sanitarium in New York State, the Jackson Health Resort, that held out hope for a full recovery. There could not be a resolution of the romance until Jim's health began to respond to treatment, and any uncertainty was enough of a reason for Elizabeth to try to keep the condition of her private affections as secret as possible. Before leaving again, Jim slipped out to Lake Forest and left a small gift at the Cramer residence, Rathmore. He wanted to let her know that his intentions remained serious, and she, in turn, writes back in her most assuring style: There are blue violets in the woods. The wild crab-apples are in bloom and the blue sky behind the pink blossoms is the most beautiful thing in the world. This evening the maid brought me your flowers—I wonder why you sent them. I remember so well the first ones you brought me—pink sweet peas & some little stray white flower that had an indescribable haunting fragrance. I was so surprised when you brought them to me; it was a cold winter day & the dear things made me remember Spring & all the joyful moments that come with Spring. We went for a long walk afterwards and all at once I knew that you were not like anyone I had ever known. There was a strange little joyful song in my heart all mat evening—"Here at last is someone who regards life as a high adventure. Here is a man who has dug down below preconceived opinions & old prejudices and who is willing to stake his life on his beliefs." It meant more to me than I can say. Ever since my mother died I had been searching & questioning & sometimes giving up on the fight & just drifting with the tide, then last year all at once I began to feel that at last I was on the right track, that the light ahead was from God & that the business of life from now on was to keep on this road. After so many years of following blind trails & beating about in pathless woods it meant a peace that could not be put into words. And then came that walk with you; the water was a strange magic colour, indescribably beautiful. I remember how delicate & lovely was the tracery of the black twigs against the sky. We talked of ordinary commonplace things and then on the way home when it was dusk you talked on the things you believed in. I said almost nothing but all the time in my heart I was saying "does he know how much it means to me to hear these things?" It wasn't so much the things that you said though these things illumined my own life but it was that you should have said them. Can I ever make you know what that meant. It meant that something gallant and brave and adventurous had suddenly revealed itself as the very essence of one man's life. And this man would perhaps some day be my friend—one of those rare precious friends with whom one is permitted to share the life of the spirit. I wonder if you felt at all any of the intense eagerness & the amazed happiness that could find no adequate expression in my words to you? After you had gone I sat still for a long time & thought of all the things you had said. I was proud, in a curious personal way that you had not given in or accepted the beliefs & conventions of the society that claimed you; that you had been too honest to accept belief before you had earned the right to take it. There is something tremendously exhilarating in �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 157 what you had done. I wanted you to know that I felt this but there were no words to tell you. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., May 18, 1915) Jim McClure left Chicago two days after receiving this message from Elizabeth. He was determined to overcome his disability, but restless determination was also a source of his difficulties. At the Jackson Health Resort, he would be under the direction of doctors who assured him that cases like his came through their doors all the time. Jim's new "cure" consisted of great quantities of fresh air and water. The air was breathed playing more golf; he bathed daily in the hot mineral springs around which the sanitarium had been built. He wrote Elizabeth that after so many baths, he was bound to emerge as either a sea lion or a tadpole. The doctors wanted him to rest and forbade reading; he was somehow to slow down the torrent of ideas that swept through his mind. He did hire a Mrs. Steele to read aloud to him, otherwise the ennui of this life would have been unbearable. To his mother he wrote that "My days pass without much variation. Today I indulged in a hair cut ... Mrs. Steele ... finished Cortez some time ago, then read accounts of various other Spanish explorers in America ... Golf every other day has been my program" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, exact date unknown). Mrs. McClure herself arrived to help break the monotony, perhaps on her way to Rhode Island, a trip she tried to make every summer. Indulging in a little 'cure' herself, she had come to comfort her son, and give him the confidence he needed to see his recovery through to the end. Jim kept careful records of all his considerable expenses, and somehow fought back the notion that was a basic part of his view of life: a thirty-year-old man not pulling his own weight in the working world was draining the resources of his family and the pool of wealth of the society at large. Another sinking notion that must have crept into his mind from time to time concerned the distance between him and Elizabeth. Despite all the letters, there was no formal agreement between the two of them. She was a most eligible young lady, and disastrous scenarios of successful suitors replacing him were a natural condition of his tenuous circumstances. The romance had reached a plateau. But she and Jim still continued to enjoy a rich intellectual relationship, despite the distance between them. She wrote him after a dinner party when she had sat next to a gentleman who considered Christianity . . . morbid, reactionary, most injurious in its effects on the world. He also said that he would never have anything to do with any clergyman because "all clergymen were either fools or hypocrites." I said that I personally knew two who were neither—yourself, Sir, & an Irish Mend, whereat he very amusingly asked, to my secret indignation, "were they good looking?" I regretted bitterly that I could not tell him that you were both as homely as a rhinoceros! . . . I couldn't understand at first why such a very clever man should so utterly misunderstand the teachings of an extraordinarily keen-minded revolutionary �158 We Plow God's Fields like Christ . . . After I had thought about it a while it seemed to me that Christianity to him meant bondage & ceremony & hypocrisy & an emphasis on doctrines that are based on assumptions rather than on fact and behind it all Crusades & Albigensian wars & all the hundred & one inquisitions & horrors that have been perpetuated in the name of Christianity, and that living in Europe one feels perhaps with added force. He has mixed up Ecclesiasticism with Christianity, I feel sure. He condemns the fire that warms his house because of the smoke that fills his eyes. And yet he is so sincere & so intolerant of shams . . . The last time I saw him he said "Never believe anything, you only know." I thought about that & then I had to admit that while he had a remarkable intellect, he had no imagination whatever, & that after all civilization has only progressed when people were willing to trust their imaginations . . . 1 wished for a glib tongue every time I saw him instead of my own stumbling possession! (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., June 2, 1915) A week later, her thoughts return to painting. . . . I suppose the whole "raison d'etre" of art depends on whether you think beauty is necessary in life or not and that is something that almost everybody would answer in only one way. Perhaps it is because real beauty is something that possesses a life giving quality,—it somehow or other renews your spirit and everybody wants that.. .Everybody wants beauty—it seems always to quicken your sense of being alive and that means happiness and peace and a blessed conviction that you are really necessary in the scheme of things. The people who live in the hideous dreary parts of Chicago just flock to the Art Institute Sunday afternoons hoping that they will find what they lack there . . . I used to think that people's souls couldn't develop in sordid hideous surroundings but I know now that I was wrong. Spiritual development comes from within but beauty is an incalculable help because it keeps your spirit alive. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., July 2, 1915) Elizabeth Cramer loved the reveries of a carefree afternoon, when her imagination could be loosed without constraint to stumble over some new inspiration. She told Jim, "I feel envious of tramps. They have no possessions to chain them down. They can go comfortably out in the sun & smell the ... flowers & lie on their backs and watch the clouds making patterns of themselves while all the time the affluent Mrs. Jones & Mrs. Smith are angrily cleaning their silver or making new chair covers" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., July 5, 1915). Relaxation never came easily to Jim. He always thought of one more chore that needed doing, remaining uneasy until the thought was followed by the accomplishment. Elizabeth's quiet nature, her insistence on late afternoon strolls, her constant thrill at finding new and unexpected scenes of beauty all brought into Jim's life a new dimension of experience that protected him from his own nature. Jim's life in the summer of 1915 was in flux, and slowly but carefully he and Elizabeth learned about each other. �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 159 The events that followed their marriage would alter his aspirations, his daily habits and his geographical allegiance. The doctors of Dansville were already telling him to stay away from the ministry for a few years. In one of Elizabeth's letters to Wiggy she mentions that " . . . the Dansville man says he will be cured but that he cannot go back to the ministry for two years & that he would have to do something that keeps him out of doors. It is cussed luck & he thinks now of getting some land in South Carolina or Georgia & as he says digging himself in" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, August 20, 1915). The Jackson "cure" was taking a long time. He spent the summer and most of the fall there, except for a brief sojourn in the backwoods of Michigan. "Jim is up in the Michigan woods," Elizabeth reported to Wiggy. "Poor dear he's rather cast down. He wrote me the other day that he would have to give up writing me until he gets the better of his head. The doctors say he will surely be cured but that he will have to be outdoors & live a quiet outdoor life for the next two years which he says has upset all his plans" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, August 25, 1915). In another letter, she explains to Wiggy the diagnosis of Jim's difficulties. "It seems that they think that for some years he has forced the blood into his brain through overwork & study & that in doing so the blood vessels became dilated & lost their elasticity so now they're trying to get it back again & I rather think he's there for all summer." And then to Jim again: Of course you mustn't write letters to people until your head is quite well again, I said as much to you before, young man. Isn't it splendid that your Dansville doctor has discovered the reason for your headaches. That is so encouraging because of course it is only a question of time now before you are quite over. I'm so glad you've decided to take his advice about leading some kind of outdoor life for two years or so ... In two weeks I expect to wipe the last remaining paint stains off my shoes and start for Manchester. How nice that there is a possibility of seeing you there—. . . (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., August 30, 1915) Manchester, Vermont held out great possibilities for Jim and Elizabeth. The Green Mountains in the early fall put on one of the natural world's most miraculous events, "The Foliage Season." Jim did indeed plan to visit Manchester. He was to stay with Annie and Dumont in the house he had helped to build. Elizabeth's home base would be the stately and rambling Mt. Equinox Hotel, where she resided with the aunties, Bessie and Freddy, who were often seen strolling down the shaded marble sidewalk in long white dresses. She wrote to her confidante, "Jim is staying with his sister . . . I'm afraid, Wiggy darling, he is nicer than ever. My aunts adore him . . . The poor thing is nearly dying of ennui because he can't look at a book and he adores reading" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, September 27, 1915). With both Skinners and McClures in the surrounding countryside there was a constant round of �160 We Plow God's Fields social obligations for both of them. But despite Elizabeth's expectation of a month of companionship with Jim, he abruptly cut his visit short, returning to the sanitarium a frustrated young man unable to see himself a marriageable prospect. She was stunned by his departure. She wrote to Wiggy: . . . We went on some long, long walks & climbs & the time just flew by. Tuesday we took lunch with us up Stratton Gap . . . He told me then that all his best hopes had gone smash, that the Dr. said he wouldn't be really well for six months & that he was going back to Dansville the next day. I was so surprised I nearly fell off the log into the ravine below because, only the day before he had been planning for us to go up Equinox and over to Roaring Brook & goodness knows what all. I tried to appear as though it were perfectly natural for him to be going though I knew that his original intentions had been to go back to the Sanitarium in November but he seemed so dreadfully upset that I didn't ask any questions. "You see," he said, "the trouble with me is I've got congestion of the brain; that's the long & the short of it. The doctors say it's a very common thing but that it takes time to cure & that I'll have to come back here for the rest of winter." He started to say more but he stopped short & after that we both of us tried to forget all about it—and we did I think. We talked & talked & finally as it seemed about lunch time Jim looked at his watch & found it was 3:30 & there we were at the top of the mountain with our lunch way at the foot of the mountain. It was too absurd for words but there were so many things to talk about that the time had fairly rushed by. When we finally did get back to our lunch it was five o'clock & pitch black before we started home. We had motored over the stoney field . . . just below the mountain & it was a delicious black night with huge shooting Northern lights in the sky. Going back I behaved as though his departure next day were the most natural thing in the world. "I'm sure you'll feel a lot better Jim after this second Dansville bout," said I in my most commonplace tones. He didn't answer at first. Then he said right out flat, "It isn't that I really have to go back to Dansville tomorrow but I can't go on seeing you any more until I'm perfectly well,—so I've got to go away. As far as my head goes I'm feeling pretty fit; —its been pretty stiff work to keep from saying anything to you," he added. That was all but of course I knew what he meant. He won't ask me to marry him, he won't even tell me that he cares about me until he's a well man. If he did, I don't suppose any longer that I could give but one answer. I might even be a bold & brazen hussy & do the proposing myself if I were not afraid that it would only make him feel worse about it all & be totally ineffectual. With all his charm & his gentleness he is perfectly immovable when he makes up his mind. Apparently he thinks that it would be dishonorable to ask me to marry him & to even tell me he cared about me while he is out of a job & ill, & I suppose he felt that it was an impossible situation to go on seeing me day after day without speaking of what was uppermost in his mind. There was nothing else for him to do but go, but it has been hard on us both.... (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, October 3, 1915) Annie and Dumont, like the Aunties, were doubtless hoping the match was being made on the hike up to Stratton Gap. When darkness closed in, his brother-in-law Dumont decided that either Jim had proposed, or they were lost, �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 161 or most likely they were both engaged and lost. He organized a search party, setting forth to meet the straying couple with lanterns, and when they met them both smiling and in good spirits, he was even more sure of the results. Later he queried, "Well Jim, did you ask her?" It was of course the very worst of questions under the circumstances, and even Jim could not hold back a gruff reply.12 In two letters to Wiggy, Elizabeth wrote: He sent me yesterday a perfectly huge enormous box of lilies of the valley & orchids. I never had so many flowers from anybody in my life. They filled four or five huge vases & I felt like a debutante . . . I didn't open the box for ages because it was huge I thought it contained my clothes from the wash & I almost passed out when I opened it and saw the flowers. I feel as though the sender had vanished. I had a little note from him when he reached Dansville but he was unable to write oftener than once a month as writing brings on the pain in his head. I don't write either . . . It's the deuce . . . The time seems awfully long & next spring seems a hundred years o f f . . . . (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, October 16, 1915) The Aunts are horribly disappointed that he is gone & totally mystified. They think of course that he simply overdid here. I don't know what in the world his sister & her husband think! Of course they know that he likes me & I'm afraid they think I've calmly turned him down & sent him packing like an unconscionable flirt. The Aunts, dear things, are so amusing. They do nothing but descant on Jim's charms & they would almost burst with joy if I should marry him. Aunt Freddy keeps telling me how fond she is of him & what a thoroughbred he is & how much charm she thinks he has, though she adds quite frankly that she doesn't agree with him in all his ideas. Dear Aunt Freddy, she and Jim are poles apart when it comes to theology & a number of other subjects! I'm writing all this dearest because . . . I just have to talk about it to somebody. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, October 3, 1915) Jim and Elizabeth must have been central figures amongst the parlor gossips that fall, and when he pulled out of town so abruptly, theories of cause and effect rattled around Manchester. Elizabeth remained with the aunts at The Equinox for her allotted stay, missing Jim terribly. The leaves of Vermont turned brown and dropped. The smell of them burning filled the late afternoon air after the men had come home from work. It had been a year since Jim, Harriet and Doug Stuart, and Elizabeth had dinner together at Rathmore. Time in Manchester passed very slowly for Elizabeth and her letters to Jim were fewer and attempted to rejuvenate some interest in theology. It seemed that the six more months at Dansville would be a year. Jim wrote her to explain. The thing that has been at the bottom of my mind & that has been bothering me for a long time is not so much the getting fit but the ability to stay fit & do heavy strenuous work. I knew all along that I was apt to go at things too �162 We Plow God's Fields hard and in a way that might use me up again, so I asked this man (Dr. Gregory) could he do this for me. He is a direct sort of a chap & his answer rather staggered me, "Not unless you remain here a year." I've decided to settle down & see the thing through. . . . (quoted by Elizabeth Cramer in a letter to Martha Clarke, November 26, 1915) She absorbed the latest setback while visiting her artist friend Mildred Burrage in Kennebunkport, Maine. By late November, it was time to return to Lake Forest. She planned to spend the weekend in New York City, and then on to Chicago and home. On the train from Kennebunkport, she wrote Jim about the Burrage household and the little town. Doing her best to set an encouraging tone, she told him: "You're a regular 'brick,'—I feel like saying a lot more but I won't! Of course the only thing for you to do is to stay on at Dansville . . . A year seems an awfully long time when you first think of it but even two years wouldn't be long if it meant that you were going to come out with sound health. Do stay a full year where you are" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 22, 1915). Elizabeth checked into the Martha Washington Hotel, a prim establishment that advertised itself as "The only hotel in the world exclusively for women."13 She received there an urgent message from Jim that he was coming to New York and wanted to see her. She left him this message at the front desk: Dear Jim, I feel turned topsy-turvy,—a few days ago it seemed as though I should not see you again until I had achieved white hairs & a cap, and now,—here you are! Will you meet me at the Plaza—in front of the news stand near the elevators & across from the main desk, about half-past three this afternoon? It is too bad for you to have this trip down town for nothing but I am obliged to keep an appointment with the oculist this morning and it is apt to be a longish performance. Rather than keep you waiting in this odious place [the Martha Washington] I shall take you at your word & name the Plaza instead, as I have appointments in that neighborhood. Besides, I somehow hate to think of associating anything nice like you with this smug bourgeois spot! The drawingroom resembles a dental "parlour" and the "lady guests" all wear white waists with stiff collars & seem to be concealing curl-papers under their hats! Ugh! Why is Respectability always so uninviting! This seems to be the one place in New York where the lone spinster may stay without offending Madam Grundy. You are a bright prospect and after 3:301 am bound by no ties. The Plaza is near the Park so we can go for a walk therein & throw peanuts at the monkeys, or take a bus-ride, or just retire to the Plaza drawing room & talk... I have a sort of an idea that this is all the result of a Thanksgiving dinner & that I shall presently wake up & find that you are not coming at all. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November 27, 1915) At the Plaza hotel a remarkable scene unfolded. Impediments fell away, and the romance of Jim McClure and Elizabeth Cramer found its freedom. �Elizabeth Skinner Cramer 163 Without hesitation, he asked; and she accepted. A flood of the rarest joy swept over them both. They rushed out and hired a horse and carriage. Jim told the driver to keep going around Central Park until told to stop. Afterwards, they returned to the Martha Washington, a most ironical setting for the newly engaged, and he proceeded to scandalize the patrons with his obvious affections towards Elizabeth. She laughed and called him a "shameless creature," and recalled later that " . . . you so disturbed that respectable, open-mouthed old lady in the corner . . . and you a properly brought-up young man!" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 14, 1915) She was as guilty as he of course, and they were both utterly unconcerned about the rest of the world. All that mattered was that the waiting and uncertainty were over, their engagement had begun. What had happened to change the situation so quickly? My own dearest Wiggy, . . . I wrote you a hurried tiny line two days ago to tell you that your indifferent celibate Pigie was actually going to marry Jim McClure . . . You see when the Eh*, told him he would have to stay on for a year he said he just couldn't bear it, that he couldn't sleep for thinking of me & that he knew all the good he got there would be nullified so he went to Dr. Gregory & told him he just couldn't bear it living away from me, & not speaking and that Dr. Gregory had somehow got to help him. With that, Dr. Gregory sprang from his chair, grasped him by the arm and said, "Why, why, why didn't you tell me all this at first! Why the best thing you can possibly do is to get married. You'll be all right in no time. You are well now. It's only to insure your remaining well that I said you must stay here a year. Why you'd be far better off married. You'd recover your staying powers more quickly & there is absolutely no question about it's being the best thing to do!" Jim said that he brought up every possible objection and that the Dr. just bowled them over one after one. Jim said it took him just twenty minutes after that before he telegraphed me thinking I was still at the Barrages and—you know the rest. Of course Wiggy darling he will not be able to do any work for two years and he will have to live very quietly. But he has a small income—a very small one & considerable money put by, & so we can get married anyway. We shall always be frightfully poor .. . Anyway it's much more exciting to marry a poor person with ideas than a rich one with none & then there's always my money for emergencies though he declares that he will never touch a penny of it. . . We don't know where we shall go & what we shall do. Jim's idea is to rent a little place somewhere in the mountains of Carolina or Virginia perhaps with the option of buying it at the end of two years & then keeping it as a "retreat" for vacations & things like that when he was busy with a parish. When he gets well he'll probably take a parish in the slums because he said that for all he knew he would always pick out poor & unfrequented districts but it's a grand good adventure & I can cut my coat to fit my cloth even though it may be a bad job at first. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, December 1, 1915) Earlier in the same letter, Elizabeth had told Wiggy: �164 We Plow God's Fields . . . his whole life seems to be permeated & filled with what Matthew Arnold calls "The Power not Ourselves." I never thought I should find anybody who could somehow make my own life so much larger & freer & with it all so full of humor & lightness. I am a very lucky person Wigywag darling. A curious thing is that ever since I have known him I have had the feeling of being tremendously stimulated & yet immensely peaceful—there was no effort no striving after anything, just a curious sense of being recreated within. I knew after Christmas last year that nothing but this inevitable end was possible but I wanted to think it out clearly & consciously. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, December 1, 1915) And in yet another letter: . . . It isn't that Jim is brilliant or extraordinarily clever either. I don't know what it is exactly. I've known men who were very much cleverer. I think one reason that I like him so much is because he is so unconscious of himself as it were; he's such an odd mixture of impulse and reason and he's a very eager person only he's almost more eager for other people than he is for himself if you know what I mean by that. And then he always trusts people & expects the best of them and he consequently always gets it. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, winter of 1915) Other people have commented on Jim McClure's personal qualities, but no one ever described them better than Elizabeth. Here was a woman who could match Jim's intellect, slow down his "impulses," help him to notice the beauty around him that he might otherwise rush past. Elizabeth Cramer was the perfect match for Jim McClure—intelligent, sensitive, fun-loving, and willing to share a life of intellectual and literal adventure. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. Clipping of article from Chicago newspaper, 1916, found among family papers. Pamphlet on the Pierrepont family genealogy. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. Jim's scorecard, found among his personal papers. Santa Barbara notebook, February 20, 1916. Santa Barbara notebook. Santa Barbara notebook. Santa Barbara notebook. Santa Barbara notebook. Santa Barbara notebook. Santa Barbara notebook. Interview with Dumont Clarke, Jr. Hotel slogan printed on a piece of letterhead found among family papers. �Chapter Ten Marriage So long as our lives individually strive to embody the spirit that comes of God, our souls seeking renewal always in the source of all life must then meet, and of necessity become one, since in God there is no separation. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 8, 1916) I thought of you in the middle of salad tonight . . . about made everyone else in the dining room look as gray and uninteresting as oysters. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 23, 1916) If Jim and Elizabeth's courtship had meandered and lingered through a difficult course, the end came in a rush. Now they would have several months of engagement to savor their joyous new status. Before their rendezvous in New York, queries and doubts had often piled up in their minds like afternoon thunderheads on a hot summer's day. Elizabeth had not always been sure that she was ready to become Jim's wife, characteristically because she worried that she, an artist, might hinder his work as a minister. The conventions of the day portrayed the artist as a freespirited rebel, especially if the artist was a woman and had left the confines of America to pursue her craft in Paris! There could not have been more distance between that image and the one reserved for the wife of a minister, who was expected to radiate prim virtue, to be in all matters reverent and uncomplaining, to participate in the endless talk of missionary societies and sewing circles, to raise her family according to the rules of the Victorian Age, and to entertain the steady stream of visitors that were a part of her husband's job. If the pastor's wife was not a "paragon of virtue" the parish would not accept her, and this would make her husband's life extremely difficult. Elizabeth had been thinking about all this before she and Jim were ever engaged. She had written to her confidante, Wiggy, her doubts about being able to fit into a minister's life. Now she rejoiced to find her worries evaporated in the sunshine of Jim's optimistic view of her future role. . . . But way back in my mind is still the thought of those ladies in the Tuesday afternoon Benevolent Society who will raise their eyebrows when they meet your wife in a paint-apron—perhaps, I thought, I can coax them all into wanting the Sunday School "done up," and I know I could teach a Sunday School class! There are quantities of things in the Bible that I should just love talking about to a lot of youngsters and it would be so satisfying to have a free 165 �166 We Plow God's Fields fling. I read "Jonah" the other night to Corwith [her half-brother] & Susan [a cousin who was living with the Cramers] and we all three almost burst with excitement. Poor Jonah was so human & so able apparently and so "temperamental" & he was dealt with so promptly! I never knew there was any more to him than the whale! .. . (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 6, 1915) After receiving a letter from Jim on the subject of her art, she wrote to Wiggy: The beautiful part Wiggy darling is that he feels just the way I do about painting—he has all sorts of awfully interesting ideas about it & he says that he just couldn't endure it if I had anything to do with the details of church work & that the only thing he wants is my cooperation in the spirit—just what you said Wiggywag. He insists that I go on painting & says mat I will mean just that much more to him if I do. You can't think how relieved & happy I feel (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 1, 1915) And to Jim she wrote: . . . If you by any chance had said that you wanted me to paint because it was temperamentally a way of living that satisfied me, I should have been so low in my mind that I could never have done a stroke of work thereafter. Of course it is a way of living in which I find much happiness but that is not the reason for adopting it. The reason is because it is simply a means to an end and the end is never anything but the Kingdom of God. I will never forget how absolutely joyful I felt when you suddenly made me see it all in this way. I had only the most scrappy little glimpses of it, I could never get everything into focus. I lived in a hundred different ways and they were all more or less detached. I was always having glimmerings but the glimmerings were somehow unconnected & then, all of a sudden, after a conversation we had out in the studio one late afternoon, in front of that old stove, everything suddenly shifted and fitted into place. [She was recalling a day at Rathmore during the early months of their courtship.] It was the most extraordinary experience. All the loose ends seemed somehow caught up, and ever since, every idea or experience or sensation I have ever had has somehow or other fitted itself onto the piece; it was like a pattern that you slowly evolved. Formerly I had quantities of colors all jumbled together, all valuable in themselves, but confused. Then you came along & I suddenly got a clue that I hadn't had before & ever since then I have known that if I kept at it long enough, I could always fit the pieces on where they belonged and the pattern would be always growing and growing . . . You can't think how I felt on that "stove day" after you had gone home. I had never, I think, been so happy or so peaceful & at the same time so thrilled through & through. I felt as though I had been hitherto walking along a road with a high wall on either side and above the wall were the tops of trees & birds & now & then roses climbing down the sides. All of a sudden, it was as though the doors in the walls had opened and I could henceforth whenever I wished go into those lovely gardens and then I looked in all directions there were vistas �Marriage 167 leading everywhere. It was all just like that. For a long time I only wanted to stay outside and look in. After a bit I went inside—and always there was you. My Dearest,—do you know, have you any idea what it all meant? (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 14, 1915) Jim, of course, had been terribly concerned about his health, but the doctor at Dansville had now assured him that if he married Elizabeth and lived and worked outdoors for a couple of years he would be as strong as ever. The decision reached that day in the Plaza Tea Room transformed their lives. For a few days they kept the joyful secret between themselves and Jim's brother Arch. Jim was staying with him at Union Seminary, where Arch was studying for the ministry, so he was in on the engagement from the beginning. Then Jim and Elizabeth went to visit the Skinner Aunts, who were staying in New York, and they rejoiced with them. Elizabeth returned to Lake Forest and the painting of the Day Nursery murals and made preparations for the wedding, and Jim went back to Dansville, but little must have seemed the same for them. The larger questions had been resolved, but there were other tensions and differences that would have to be understood. After all, both had been living independently for some time and inevitably there were points of view and habits that would have to be questioned and thought through before their marriage. The two of them had a future to be sketched in, for one of the remarkable circumstances of this marriage is that despite their ages (Jim was 31 and Elizabeth almost 28) basic decisions such as their livelihood and where they would live were virtually undetermined. Jim thought it best to remain quiet and away from Elizabeth, making a brief appearance during the Christmas season for a proper announcement and a round of entertainment. The result of this separation is a daily stream of letters to him from Elizabeth. Through these letters she and Jim shared their inner thoughts and worked out their differences. It is a loss that Jim's letters have not been found, but by Elizabeth's replies we can learn much of what he was thinking. Their first duty was to inform their family and close friends. Discretion in these matters was important; the right people had to hear the news in the right order, so that no one would be miffed at being left out. Dear Jim, I have told Isabella & Father and Mother . . . and the rascals say they were not surprised! Though Father admits that he thought "nothing was going to happen." The dear things are immensely nice about it all and full of little jokes and much affection. They think a great deal of you—more than you have any idea of—and as for Isabelle, she nearly burst with satisfaction . . . Father is already full of ideas as to a "retreat" and insists that he knows of one already that is promising—an old, very old house 15 miles from the Hot Springs, where there is, as you know an excellent golf course . . . I only mention all this to show my parent's immediate enthusiasm. He already has us housed!. .. Dear, there are no words to tell you all I feel. The thought of you is like a light shining where once there was only darkness, like a strong wind that blows �168 We Plow God's Fields suddenly through a room long closed, like flowers springing up in April among the winter leaves. The dear remembrance of you fills my heart. My cup runneth over. The fervor and the joy that quicken my days are only equalled by the peace that comes of a mutual understanding, by the love that purifies and restores. God bless you my Dearest all my life. Elizabeth (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 1, 1915) Dear Jim: How much I liked your letters to Father & Mother. They were such splendid straight sincere letters—so beautifully written & so free from anything that was cheap or lacking in dignity . . . What you said in them about me touched me more than I can ever tell you. As for Father, he & Ambrose both said that if they had chosen from all the men they knew for me they could not have chosen differently. That is a great tribute Mr. James G. K. McClure because the above mentioned gentlemen are inclined to be extremely fussy and overcritical! I like to think of something I read once. "Through such souls alone God . . . shows sufficient of his light For us in the dark to rise by." Dear Light in my darkness illuminating countless ways that hitherto seemed somehow all obscured, my heart is yours utterly. . . . (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Dec. 6, 1915) Arch McClure rushed a letter off to Elizabeth as soon as he understood the news was out. There is no one that I love quite as I do Jim—no one whose life and character I respect more. He has done far more for me in opening my mind to truths I hadn't seen than I can ever repay; and then his own life has been one of such amazing and unfailing cheerfulness during all the months of his waiting for strength that he is a constant inspiration to me ... In fact it always makes me want to be better just to be with him . . . It certainly did surprise me to have him appear in New York, and to have the whole thing happen almost under my very eyes. And it did delight me to see how happy he was and to know that you had made him so. (Arch McClure to Elizabeth Cramer, December 1, 1915) Soon after the news reached McCormick Seminary, Jim's father wrote to Elizabeth. . . . I make humble but joyous confession that I have hoped for a long time that you and Jim would care for one another. I never have spoken to Jim about the matter for it seemed too sacred to be mentioned . . . again and again I have told his Mother of my great wish. I have the truest respect and the tenderest affection for you. There is no girl I have ever seen whom I would be so glad to have Jim marry as yourself. My confidence in you is absolute, my admiration for you is perfect. (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to Elizabeth Cramer, December 6, 1915) �Marriage 169 Jim's mother had written promptly exclaiming her support. This morning's mail brought us, from Jamie, a letter telling us a secret that seems almost too wonderful to be true . . . you are, of all the world, the one I would most rejoice to have as Jamie's choice for his life companion, and I know that since he saw you in New York, he has been happier than ever before in his life. (Phebe Ann Dixon MeClure to Elizabeth Cramer, Dec. 3, 1915) Elizabeth wrote to Jim: "Such dear letters from your Mother and Arch and Nathan—1 didn't know how they might feel about it and my mind is immensely relieved. I have such a proud feeling, Sir, when I think that you are considering me with some affection! ..." (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. MeClure, Jr., Dec. 6, 1915). Jim wrote to his sister Harriet and her husband Douglas Stuart, ending with "Tell Dudley [Doug's nickname at that time] he must decide whether to come in his shirt sleeves or his bath gown to Sid's and my wedding for I will have to be wearing his cutaway—" (James G. K. MeClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, Dec. 1, 1915). Jim's sister Annie Clarke wrote, "Our only regret is that it didn't happen here in Manchester, where we felt that we gave you every opportunity" (Annie MeClure Clarke to Elizabeth Cramer, Dec. 7, 1915). And then from Dumont, "Perhaps . . . you will tell us that the atmosphere of a stone in Manchester did have some part in helping a man whom we love to win you to the decision we think is so beautiful" (Dumont Clarke to Elizabeth Cramer, Dec. 8, 1915). Elizabeth's artist friend, Mildred Burrage, wrote that she wept for joy when she received the news in her family's Kennebunkport, Maine, home (Mildred Burrage to Elizabeth Cramer, December 8,1915). Elizabeth found it hard to concentrate on her murals at the Day Nursery in Chicago. She wrote Jim: . . . Such a job as the Nursery is,—my thoughts go way off and the part of me that paints somehow gets along as best it can. If there were any real composing to do I should hang a sign up & inform the public that the person who worked therein was temporarily deceased. To have to paint apple trees & toys when every thought is running your way is a form of mental discipline that is unequalled. I do disastrous things—paint eyes red and apple blossoms blue . . . Dear Thing, good night—Siddy (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 3, 1915) Four days later she wrote again: Dearest, The only natural easy thing to do is to write, -everything else I do with one hand as it were in a very lame fashion—all of which goes to show you that I am in a bad way .. . �170 We Plow God's Fields Tonight I dined . . . to the tune of scrambled eggs & muffins, & there was I eating them with much composure when suddenly I remembered that I had no idea whether, when it came to Sunday night suppers, you would have a taste for onions or alligator pears! (Dreadful things, those last!) . . . [She would soon find out that he liked boiled eggs and crackers and milk.] . . . I told Corwith [her half-brother] today about you and me. First I made him guess. He launched the most incredible and disturbing conjectures that forced me to enlighten him with all possible speed, and then, his surprise was unbounded. "Well," he said reflectively, "I'd forgotten about him, you see." (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr. Dec. 7, 1915) Later she wrote that Corwith had told her one morning that Jim might never marry her after all. "Mr. McClure might change his mind before January first. It's a long ways off, you know." Elizabeth feigned scorn and laughed at Corwith but he continued solemnly, "Still, Tibbits, you will admit that it is quite possible." Elizabeth added to Jim, 'Ponder and reflect, young man! Youth is hotheaded and rash and there are yet twenty-two days in this month for mature reflection ..." Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Dec. 9, 1915). In several letters she told him how she pretended that his "ghost, as the Irish say," would come in to sit by her bedroom fire of an evening and how she looked forward to this. Thinking of their walk in Central Park after Jim's proposal and her acceptance in New York, she wrote: When I think that only a week ago we were walking in the park in all that amazing fog and darkness with the shining Plaza glittering behind the trees! I love to think of that. Always, always, the park is there full of peace and thoughts that are apart, and around on every side is the roaring hungry city with all its enterprise & struggle and effort. It was like that, I think, when you talked to me & said the little things that made me think you really cared. It was the first time that I had ever known the real meaning of peace. All life must somehow mean a desperate effort, but that at the heart of it there should be peace & serenity and a joy that was somehow not of this world was something that transcended all experience. Only a little over a week ago what sober guarded creatures we were. And I was none too sure that you would even want my frequent letters! Now, Sir, I am pleasing myself. It is a relief to write long pages about nothing at all. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 7, 1915) Two days later she wrote: My Dearest, The first of January seems further off than ever, —I almost believe that time is going the other way & that we're slipping back again into November . . . I have a sort of a feeling that when you do come I shall wait until you are within sight of a window & then I shall promptly hide in the cellar. You seem such a safe distance off just now that I feel I can write you all kinds of rubbish, if you were here, I should never run on in such a fashion—I should always be looking out of the tail of my eye to see whether you are astonished or dis- �Marriage 171 mayed, and when I see you again after all the nonsense I am always writing you, I shall feel very red and stiff and inclined to disappear. I shall probably call you Mr. McClure & shake hands politely and ask after your health and you'll have to begin all over again, if you still like me! Have you ever noticed that there are some people you like very much in Winter whom you can't abide in summer? and vice versa? I'm not sure whether you've had a real square all-around look at me, or n o t . . . Besides, you've never seen me at Breakfast. I, at any rate never like anyone before eleven o'clock and until at least twelve I always wear my hair slicked tight back and never speak of anything but the thermometer or why Gustave hasn't fixed the furnace. This is all in a burst of honesty that might never again come back so I'm hurriedly writing it down while it lasts. Also I always wear my shell spectacles at least half the day and I sometimes waste a terrible lot of time picking out tunes with one finger while the maids are dusting and I have an old blue skirt that I love & that everybody else hates because it somehow has a tendency to drop in the back no matter how much I hitch it up. I feel sure, now, that I am going to be quite made over & that I shall never lose any more handkerchiefs or door keys if you still continue to like me, BUT,-I saw in the paper the other day that "marriage does not change the individual" which is a sobering thought and one that urges me to bid you reflect! What, just what if you should get a church in which your parishioners . . . demanded a competent, efficient, capable, executive wife!!!! 1.1 am not competent. 2.1 am never efficient 3.1 am not capable 4.1 am not executive (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., December 9, 1915) Jim remained in Dansville until just before Christmas. When he arrived at the Lake Forest Station he was greeted by Rathmore's butler. Jim's physique came to inhabit the spirit that had been visiting Elizabeth every evening, and presumably he did not need to search the cellar to find her. The season of 1915 was the gayest yet at Rathmore, because not only had Jim and Elizabeth agreed to marry, but young Ambrose was ready to announce his engagement to Grace Meeker. She was a member of Jim's Santa Barbara "band," and had been featured in the previous spring's Vogue magazine. Both couples decided to announce their intentions on New Year's Day, but beforehand they enjoyed all the social events of the season, pretending to keep the well-known secrets. Jim returned to Halsted Street on Christmas Eve, to spend his last holiday as an unmarried son in his family's household. As he drove out of Rathmore that night, he found Elizabeth concealed behind the stone gate that served as the entrance to the estate. There they parted, after exchanging affections and written messages, the latter to be read on first arising Christmas Day. Elizabeth and Jim were savoring, with all of the literary accoutrement, the fruits of their romance. According to the firm rules of the day, Jim and Elizabeth and Ambrose and Grace acquired a new status on January first. The double engagement of Susie Skinner's children made quite a stir in Chicago when it appeared in the Society �172 We Plow God's Fields pages. Elizabeth wrote a eulogy on Jim to Wiggy, who was still holding the fort in the Tr&pied house, surrounded by war: "... I feel so natural & so happy & so comfortable with him & never have a single fear or worry or anxious thought about the future with him which apparently is almost unheard of with an engaged young person!! . . . People seem to be very pleased about it everywhere & I just go about on air ... Jim is as honest as you . . . 1 can't say more than that & he has the loveliest sense of humor & can be as much of a goat as Ambrose! ..." (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, Jan. 1, 1916) A flood of congratulatory notes poured in on Jim and Elizabeth after their engagement was made public—some two hundred altogether—and they add up to a great crescendo of support. One sad young man, who had tagged doggedly after Elizabeth, wrote in a defeated tone, "I feel absolutely no bitterness toward you" (John W. Brown to Elizabeth Cramer, December 16, 1915). Her cousin, Mark Skinner Watson, had come from Chimney Point, Vermont, to work on the Chicago Tribune. He was a promising young newspaper man and they had had great fun together. From his letter it is easy to see why he became a noted columnist. Possibly your Aunts have told you that I received your letter and read it with keen excitement the very day after you wrote it instead of three or four weeks later as you had expected. Thus, for four days I carried with me the mighty secret, restraining the impulse to show an unsuccessful suitor's vengeance and tell the Tribune all about i t . . . Also I've been hoping particularly that I might see you and tell you face to face how happy I am that you are happy . . . But [you are] rather inaccessible, particularly to a youth who still finds his hours of freedom better suited to owls, nightingales, bats and deeds of darkness, rather than to young ladies who now, if never before, must be exceeding prim. Prim? Ah me. How can we again have a spree at the Blackstone, followed by "Tristan" or Mr. G. B. Shaw . .. How unless then be added Jim and, and, and, —why, of course, my own fiancee! The only trouble is that the poor thing is non-existent . .. And you will continue nice and agreeable, even though married. Please. . . . my very best congratulations and as near a prayer as a heretic can come. .. . (Mark Skinner to Elizabeth Cramer, Jan. 4, 1916) A friend identified only as Beth wrote a sharp commentary on the same social conventions of the time that troubled Jim and Elizabeth: Many time and aft have I heard the familiar name of Jim McClure mentioned, and I feel as if I knew him well. And your letter—which, I hasten to assure you, did not resemble the Ladies' Home Journal—assures me beyond any doubt that that fabulous creature, a nice modern saint with all the latest improvements in brains, and the courage of his convictions, exists after a l l . . . I'm not very fond of the cloth, as a rule, but I'll hand it to anyone who can live and work in Iron River . .. and return with a sufficient sense of perspective to encourage his future wife to go on beautifying the world with mural �Marriage 173 decorations. Most reformers look at you with a wild gleam in their eye and say "How dare you be happy when children are starving?" .. . I can't imagine anything more fun than your slum existence. No, I'm not sentimentalizing for the occasion. Ever since I grew up I've wanted to do just that-discard every non-essential and concentrate on the things that really ought to be done, instead of—oh, sending cards to every fool who invites you to tea. Goodness, what a relief! No clothes, no social stunts, no more servants than you need, no more food than you want to eat. And all the time there is in which to do the interesting things. Please, may I come and visit you and see how it's done? Because some fine day, when I'm fifty, or so, I may be free to do the same thing, and I want some pointers meanwhile . . . . . . how glad I am that you're not marrying anything even resembling a stockbroker! When my friends' husbands are "in business" I go and dig the grave of any human sympathy we may ever have had. Thank goodness for a socialist for you .. . ! You always needed one, anyhow, by the way; it will do you pounds of good. (Beth [last name unknown] to Elizabeth Cramer, December 26, 1915) There were peons of praise for Jim from classmates and fellow members of Skull and Bones at Yale, including a prophecy from John Magee, now a missionary in Nanking, China. He wrote, "I'm sure your coming into Jim's life at this time will mean a very great deal to him in every way and that he will now be in the way of gaining completely his normal health" (John Magee to Elizabeth Cramer, Jan. 13, 1916). Just before Jim was to go south for a little more rest with Annie and Dumont and their new son, Dumont Jr. at Daytona Beach, a tragedy leveled the high spirits of Rathmore. Elizabeth's step-sister Isabelle and her husband, Donald Ryerson, lost their little son. Jim was asked to conduct the funeral services. Elizabeth had always been very close to Isabelle, and Donald and Jim were friends as well. But the wedding plans had to go on. While Jim was keeping a safe distance in Florida resting with his sister's family, Elizabeth's father sent his adored daughter off to New York with her step-mother on a shopping "bat." From the Biltmore Hotel she wrote to Jim: .. . New York should always be visited a deux. I only feel half a person! If only it were last November, but all the same I'm glad it isn't, because I am just fifty one days richer than I was then and the last two weeks have been worth six ordinary ones besides . . . This afternoon Mother and I surveyed various silver services and I am now sleeping on two as the saying goes, —it is not as simple as buying a Hudson [automobile] but nevertheless vastly absorbing. How I wish you were here! Only half of me looks at things—the other half is at home trotting around with you, sir. Father is presenting me with the most galumptious petticoats and suchlikes. I shall never want to put a dress on at all. Such fine feathers! ... (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 19, 1916) Your little book of treasures is such a joy. I read a bit of it every night. Here is a quotation that you wrote January 1906—"for those children of God �174 We Plow God's Fields to whom it has been granted to see each other face to face and to hold communion together and to feel the same spirit working in both can never more be sundered though the hills be between. For their souls are enlarged for ever more by that union and they bear one another about in their thoughts continual as if it were a new strength." That is it, isn't it, Dearest? (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 20, 1916) Elizabeth settled on her silver service, and frequented several New York antique dealers looking for suitable furniture for her new household, slum parish or not. Dearest—such a place as this is to get ideas about things! I'm just full of the house furnishing variety . . . I go around to all kinds & varieties of shops so as to see everything going, and if you don't have a nice house, Mr. James G. K. McClure Jr., my name isn't mine own! I've penetrated antique shops of all varieties and entered "Decorator's Parlours" with a brazen air of intending to buy everything and leave with nothing, and my notebook & my head are just crammed full . . . You will love the silver service. It has the most extraordinary dignity and simplicity. Just to have tea out of it is a privilege .. . This [the Biltmore Hotel] isn't a bad place & you have a room with a bath and three meals for $3.00 a day. From the front windows you look out over the roof tops at that beautiful Madison Square Garden Tower and down below are some nice old red brick houses. At night I hear the boats as the river is just back of us & it makes me think of our ferry ride. I can shut my eyes and remember every inch of it. Dearest Thing, if I were going to live in a cave in South Carolina and eat acorns and frogs, if you were there I should be just as happy as I am now—the automobile and the silver service . . . don't make any difference at all, somehow. They are just like the holly tissue paper and the red ribbons that tie up ones loveliest Christmas present.. .. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 25, 1916) Elizabeth's buying spree brought to light one of the tensions between the prospective mates. The whole question of the correct use of material possessions in one's life had been an early philosophical link in the romance. Both agreed that conspicuous consumption, buying for show, material self-indulgence and the like were rank sins that many of their own class were guilty of, and suffered spiritual difficulties as a result. The irresponsible rich, they were both sure, flaunted their wealth and thus aggravated class tensions, and were in fact monopolizing the resources of the world to the detriment of nearly everyone else. Elizabeth had grown up in a privileged household, but the material objects that appealed to her did so because of their beauty, a spiritual quality of the greatest importance to her. She felt that her gift was to create an ambience of beauty that would surround her and those she loved, and that furniture, dresses, silver services and flowers were her means to that end. Such an environment, touched with the divine, lent itself to spiritual development. Jim, on the other hand, was as thrifty in all ways as the reputation of his Scotch forebears would indicate. His habits, like his father's, were built around the premise that one should be �Marriage 175 most careful in managing whatever financial resources one had. The more surplus money there was in one's budget, the better able a person would be able to support worthy projects. In short, Jim felt that spending money in excess of need was pure and simple selfishness. Jim would have to increase his vision of "need" to include Elizabeth's urge for beauty. As she explained to him: It seems to me that it is an impossible thing to go on living with people simply on a basis of material interests—meals and dinner parties and hats and servants and railroad tickets and sports. It's terrifically wearing to keep up a close personal relation of that sort particularly if you've ever known what the other thing means. That's what's at the bottom of so much unhappiness in married people's lives. Often the only things that two people have in common are material interests and the difference of sex. Of course that can only result in material dissatisfaction and I suppose, under such circumstances, it simply goes to show all over again that the life of the spirit must be shared or the material expression of it can have no real meaning. That's another thing that neither the church nor school ever touches on. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 23, 1916) But in her next letter she asserts the importance of owning material things that are beautiful. If we go off & live in some starving place . .. why then there will be much more reason for our acquiring essentially good possessions, because in such a place, the need for sharing such things is so terribly felt even though people there may not be really conscious of it. With our knowledge of beauty and how it can be used, we've got to use every means we have to bring people in touch with it. If we have nice furniture (and by that I don't necessarily mean costly furniture) and surroundings that are poles removed from their horrible lace window curtains & "bird-eye maple" furniture & red velvet rockers it will mean a lot, I know. We can create a house that will express, through its self, law and order and proportion and repose and aliveness-all those things that you will be constantly opening people's eyes to in what you say. I want equally to open people's eyes to it in what they see. And that's what's the trouble with all modern painting right now, It tries to give you a "thrill." . . . (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 27, 1916) In her struggles to conceive of a sensible attitude where her art and the needs of the "masses" could meet, she met a figure from across the social gulf, who gave her more to think about. The maid came in to clean her hotel room. . . . a huge, strapping, coarse, kind, sort of a woman & she appalled me by seizing upon the remains of my lunch & gobbling them up!—horrid cold remains they were, too,—salmon & cold vegetables and the bitterest kind of strong tea that I couldn't touch. She said apologetically that she was hungry because the hotel didn't give the "help" enough to eat. Then I asked her later on if she liked pictures & her eyes just shone, & her whole manner changed when she said that she did. �176 We Plow God's Fields I never can get away from the "poor" somehow or other! . .. After the chambermaid had departed, I had a violent reaction .. . and I almost hated my silver service when I thought of that woman's need of food. At such a time, I feel like chucking "art" entirely and going out & handing forth bread line tickets or working for a better wage system! But I know that this is mere emotionalism & I know that such a state of mind is unintelligent. The "poor" need bread for their souls as well as for their bodies and a silver tea service . . . is something they should have access to in their lives and it is only a millstone around your neck when you aren't willing to share it. Some of the poor think that they resent ownership by the upper classes of a silver tea service . . . but it isn't really the fact of possession that they resent. It's the attitude of mind that they resent (but they aren't developed enough intellectually to see that this is so), the attitude of mind that assumes that beauty and culture are the special, private privilege of the rich. But if you become one of them in spirit and make them feel that you insist on having your own surroundings beautiful because you feel that beauty is a necessity of life & something to be shared and experienced by all who want it too,—why then I'm sure their resentment would disappear. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 28, 1916) If Elizabeth struggled with her higher views of silver services, she knew Jim to be the most frugal of men with himself, but very generous to others. Dearest, I look at all your pictures & none of them look like the same man. So many different people propped up on my bureau and every one of them you . . . There is the you (and such a cuke this one is!) that rolls on the rug with Percy [the Cramer dog] & Corwith and ties poor unoffending Chum [the Cramer cat?] up in a [sic.] overcoat! Then there is another one that buys me velvet overshoes for bad weather and insists upon my going to bed early. (Dear thing, what a nice man that one is!) Then there is another that pulls the Aunts legs every now & then (to use an outrageous old expression) and another one that carries a horrible old german bag around (the same man that does that inks the bare places on his black coat), and still another that always looks as clean as a whistle and has the nicest kind of hands. Then there is a specially dear one that treats me as an equal & that tells me about things & that takes it for granted that I won't shirk facts even if they are hateful ones . . . (I love that one—he always gives me a kind of strength that I never had before.) And then there is another you that reveals to me a far wider more beautiful and significant life than I ever before imagined could come to any one. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 29. 1916) Art was Elizabeth's passion. She sought to understand life and apply what she learned through her art, and to understand other people through theirs. While in New York, Mildred Burrage came down from Maine and the two of them called on Claude Monet's daughter and her family, whom they had known inGiverny. Yesterday . . . we had tea with the Butlers. Mingie [Mildred] & I knew them very well in France and it took me straight back to Paris to meet them again. �Marriage Mrs. Butler is Monet's (the French impressionist) daughter & she's very French & very much powdered & rouged & made up but with such a generous kind heart. I like her immensely. Mr. Butler was a Mend of Stevenson and Will Low and St. Gaudens & all that 1880 crowd in Paris. He's an extraordinarily handsome man with huge black eyes and much charm of a certain sort. They have two children —Jimmy & Lilli about 25. Lilli is a fascinating little thing with an oriental kind of beauty and Jimmy is a straight, thin, lean youth with real ability if he could only be gotten on the right track. He got in with the post-impressionists in Paris & while he has an awfully honest mind he still sees things from their standpoint and turns out the most awful things just like his father -reds & blues & terrible violent greens. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 30, 1916) Before leaving New York, she returned to the Plaza Hotel. . . . Mingie & I fell in with an older friend . . . and in a burst of extravagance I took them to lunch at the Plaza. Such seemly conduct on my part, Mr. McClure, all the time I was there. Never a suggestion of my shady past! OI glance with a furtive eye at the waiter to see if he recognized my purple suit but being a man of infinite tact & discretion he looked the other way. What a bold brass monkey you were! I can see that scandalized waiter now rushing off to tell all his dear Mends the latest "spice." And there wasn't anything hesitating or apologetic about you either! Ach, such a man!—(dear thing, how I love him for all his bold ways—perhaps —between you and me—the bold ways are just an added reason.) After lunch, Mingee & I parted company . . . I wanted to be alone. It was a dully gray afternoon. The street was full of dirty snow, and a raw penetrating mist blew in from the river. I passed the little church where we went together that Sunday morning in November and because you seemed very near, I went inside. It was dark and quiet and peaceful. Away off in a distant part of the church a man was talking to some coloured people and after a time the service ended, & the people left. I sat there a long time. Never before, I think, have I been so conscious of all the joy and blessedness that has come to me through you. I had your precious letter with me—the one you wrote last Thursday & I read it again and again with increased joy and tenderness and humility and I thought of New Year's Eve & of all that you had said to me that evening when we were alone together in the little room. I can never forget your words nor the sincerity & pureness of heart that shone in your dear eyes. "For their souls were enlarged for evermore by that union"—the quaint words of the old quotation in your little book come back to me always. I thought of all the things we had talked of together. I tried to realize anew what marriage must mean—marriage in its deepest, truest sense; union of heart & soul & body through mutual longing to be more nearly one with God in order to further his purposes here by whatsoever means are possible. So long as our lives individually strive to embody the spirit that comes of God, our souls seeking renewal always in the source of all life must then meet, and of necessity become one, since in God there is no separation. That which is you and that which is I must then perforce unite and become eternally part 111 �178 We Plow God's Fields of one another just as two rivers meeting, henceforth mingle and become one stream that continues on its way until it is merged in the great sea ... I stayed a long time in the church. After a while people came in and a later service began. A choir of little boys sang the te Deum, & everything in me responded to that magnificent glorious chant, "Oh Lord in Thee have I put my trust, let me never be confounded." (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 1, 1916) Elizabeth Cramer was a deeply sensitive woman, and there would be times when confusion overtook her, but always she maintained ready access to her emotions. She felt deeply, but understood that emotions are the steam that runs the locomotive, but the driver must control them firmly or the engine will run away. She felt deeply, but had the self-discipline to control her feelings. Such a rich interior life was the source of her perceptiveness. If mankind is unique in the scheme of creation for being "life aware of itself," she experienced a high degree of this essential trait. She half-apologized for her last letter when she wrote the next day: I have a sort of an idea that I wrote you a terribly serious epistle last night . . . it was just the result of being happy, I suppose. Because I didn't feel a bit long faced inside when I wrote it, even though it undoubtably sounds that way! I hate solemn people & I'm not one myself, truly I'm not. But in my "early youth" (and I'm ashamed to say occasionally now thus well along in years,) I used to retire to a secluded corner & indulge in a private outburst of tears whenever I felt really happy through and through . . . Another shocking tendency in your future bride is an inordinate desire to laugh at funerals. I always think of the most absurd and comical and outrageous incongruities even though inwardly I may be touched to the heart. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Jan. 27, 1916) She accepted her own inward emotional conflicts, and in the same way that she hated "pure emotionalism" in art, and she was bothered by feelings within her whose meanings she could not grasp. She never wanted merely a frothy emotional "experience." Despite Elizabeth's serious thoughts, new subjects of a more mundane nature were beginning to creep into her letters. She picked up volumes on the science of Victorian household management, and bravely began to wade through them. . . . I'm reading valuable tomes of what day you sweep & what day you wash & which day the maid claims as her own! It seems that "system is a great thing but not system at the price of family comfort." If your husband likes to write in the library from ten to twelve it seems that you are not to disturb him with a broom. I grow daily more and more enlightened! Dearest what you say about living perhaps among Mountain [folk] might be an awfully interesting thing to do. With a hot water bag and overalls we could be comfortable anywhere. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 1, 1916) �Marriage 179 On her way back to Lake Forest, Elizabeth decided to visit the Jackson Health Resort in order to discuss with Dr. Gregory the care of her prospective husband. To her unconcealed delight, the doctor ordered a wonderful carefree existence for the newlyweds. What a thoroughly likable man that doctor is. He talked to me for a good three quarters of an hour & I sat back in the chair & listened with all my ears & now & then asked him a question. He was as direct & definite as could be and he talked straight from the shoulder . . . there was no question whatever but that you could in a course of time take up your work again & do eight hours hard concentrated work everyday, PROVIDED .. . you were willing to give those overworked brain cells of yours absolute rest from thinking for a good long time (two years or perhaps three, say I). . ."He's got to do nothing but play," Dr. Gregory said—"Just have a good time & refuse to feel responsible about anything or anybody. He must remember that the one thing for him to do from now on is to let everything else go & just have a good time because only in this way can he give the blood vessels & capillaries in the cerebellum a chance to renew themselves.."..Anything that requires direct intellectual effort on your part, Mr. James Gore King, is hotly denounced. Just mere surface exchange of ideas between you & me when you feel them cropping up inside you of their own accord .. . But any deliberate concentration on an abstract problem . . . is tabooed .. . In other words, my Dearest, you are to turn into a good healthy Bromide, agree with everybody and let everything disturbing . . . roll off your back . . . You're just to tend chickens & plant a garden & now & then make a piece of furniture if it so pleases you sir, for your wife to paint alarming colours. And the rest of the time you're to cultivate all your faculties of enjoyment; think what fun it will be—all the delicious sensations that come from seeing apple blossoms against an April sky—late spring afternoons & the fresh odour of wet brown earth-strawberries for breakfast out of doors —white "pinks" in the moonlight on a summer night—golf balls & green turf—the comforting fragrance of Don-fires in the autumn-picnics in the woods when you can lie all day on your back under an oak tree & watch the chipmunks & the clouds—. My goodness me, I can hardly wait. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 9, 1916) Back home again, Elizabeth continued to retrace some of Jim's past. She went to Chicago and stayed on Halsted Street with the McClures for a short while. Mr. McClure gave her a tour around the seminary, and then invited the faculty over for dinner to meet her. Many of these men had taught Jim, and she said, "They all eyed me with immense curiosity & were extremely cordial & I was hugely interested as it was wholly unlike any party I had ever been to before. Your father was superb! He mixed them all up, made them all so pleased with themselves & kept things going in a way that was simply astonishing" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 11, 1916). The McClure social gatherings were much more intellectual and academic than the usual Cramer ones, and Elizabeth was quite intrigued by the contrast. In this new world, she was delighted by Jim's mother. �180 We Plow God's Fields To my great pleasure I sat next to your mother at dinner. She gave me a darling little tea cup—a beauty-such a charming design. I truly love Mrs. McClure. I don't know of anyone who in every single thing she does or says always shows such distinction and graciousness and charm. It is just a joy to be with her—it gives me a curious impersonal kind of pleasure just to see her & hear her talk—it's a little bit the delight one always gets from contact with essential beauty. She has the most exquisite sense of proportion— 1 always feel with her that she is an artist through and through and by an artist I mean, in the real sense of the word, a person who understands proportion. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Feb. 11, 1916) The Cramers, Annie McClure Clarke, and the Aunties all pitched in to help Elizabeth prepare for her wedding. There were parties and showers, presents to receive, and silver sorting with brother Ambrose in the treasure trove of Rathmore's attic. Her dressmaker made great demands on her time. "Marriage apparently is akin to dying!" she wrote to Jim, "I am as neat & well arranged & tidy as though I were about to make a sudden but graceful departure from this dark world . .." (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Feb. 21, 1916). "I feel that marriage," she wrote four days later, "is in the same class with Plagues, Fires, Floods and other pestilences in that it effectively sweeps away the debris of years and is something that only the fit survive" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Feb. 25, 1916). Aunt Bessy and Aunt Freddy were as excited about the event as Elizabeth, and they were in charge of the lists of family Mends who were to be notified. "Between us, we seem to have close on three thousand acquaintances. Aunt Bessy & Aunt Freddy have been simply invaluable as 'Collaborators.' They seemed to know by instinct whether people had died or taken unto themselves new husbands or departed for good & all to unknown parts" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 1, 1916). Many nights, Elizabeth went into Chicago to stay with the Aunts at their house on Rush Street. She could not resist describing the comedy scene that unfolded there at bedtime, every night. "The aunts have just finished 'going the rounds.' The tremendous nightly affair of 'locking up' is at last over. Aunt Bessy has performed her regular nocturnal ceremony of looking under the beds to see if any burglar could be spied timidly crouching, & peace has at length settled down" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 29, 1916). The Aunts wanted to be sure their house was neat before they went to bed because, as they told Elizabeth, the doctor might have to be summoned in the night! Meanwhile, Jim remained at a safe distance in Florida. His life moved at a leisurely pace, and included long walks with his young nephew Dumont, Jr. along the beach. He took the time to investigate the marvel of the age, the Ford automobile, this one owned by the Clarke family. Elizabeth wrote him that "It is too splendid to think of all that you have done in the garage! It was so like you, my Dearest, to want to do it. I love to think of you grubbing round under motors covered with oil & dirt and looking like a mechanic yourself. I told �Marriage 181 Father what you were doing & he was enormously pleased" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March, 1916). Jim spent a lot of his time reading, pondering, re-reading and replying to Elizabeth's letters, one every day. On his last day in Florida, he received her final offering. My dearest, What do you suppose! The future Mrs. James G. K. McClure is about to have her portrait painted! . . . I feel more than ever as though I were about to depart this earth & the portrait seems part of the last obsequies! It is such a strange feeling—this business of packing up all ones belongings & all at once leaving the old life behind. In a way, it's a wrench, & I never thought it would be I who have been such a rolling stone these many years . . . to know that you are freely and voluntarily leaving behind you much that is dear & cherished, is to experience a very poignant emotion. Sometimes it's even a bit overwhelming. A state of mind that savours of absurd & hateful tears brought about merely by the sight of ... [brother] Pedro's hat, or the look of the lake from my window in the morning. When this happens, I remember how funny I must appear & this makes me laugh, but that little devil of a Hob-goblin Memory, comes & perches on my back when I least expect him, & then I'm forced to seek a private corner and a comforting pocket handkerchief. It's ridiculous in anybody who has been away from home & about the world as much as I have! It's wholly inconsistent in a "sensible party" who is truly rejoiced to be shaking the dust of Lake Forest off her feet! Nevertheless, such is the case. We are so bound, in spite of ourselves, by what has been. We feel so sure of ourselves, so independent of the past; yet when the time comes we cannot break away without paying the price. The Past rises up in us—insistent, ironical & tender; it is relentless & pursuing . .. I know, too, that some of our possessions can be truly gained only when they are finally lost; my dear people here, this old place with its cherished memories, all that my days here have meant, are now truly mine in a way that they never were before. In leaving them I have found them again . . . Dearest, these long waiting days are nearly over. Your letters have meant more to me than I can ever tell you. Because of all that you have written me, I have come closer to you than ever before. I am so glad that it was possible for us to write one another.. .. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 6, 1916) This particular letter continues on in a most adoring, personal way, but it is time to draw the curtain of discretion. Elizabeth Cramer has arrived to give Jim's life form and meaning, proportion and beauty. Her perceptions and vision will fill the rest of this book, just as they filled and enriched Jim's life. Their wedding was held March 29, 1916, at Rathmore. It was small and quiet because Mrs. Cramer's mother had died recently. "If there were only some way of 'working in' your famous brown hat," Elizabeth mockingly wrote Jim, "I should be entirely satisfied. Perhaps it could be suspended from above like a cardinal's hat in a cathedral. And you might carry the ring in that terrible green woolen bag" (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 4, 1916). But the Cramers and the Aunties remained in firm control, and the �182 We Plow God's Fields A small and extremely quiet ding service was that of Miss '^izabeth Cramer/the daughter of Mr. an*d Mrs. Ambrose Cranfer ot Lake Forest, land James G. Kf MdClure Jr., which took place yesterday .before the members of the two frimilies*and a few friends at "Rathntore," the residence* of the Cramers' in Lake Forest. Th6 seryice, at 4 o'clock, was ^read b^ I}r. James G. K. McClure, the bridegroom's father, who is president Of McCormick Theological- Seminary^ and former pastor of the Lafce Forest F. Ryerson, a half twister oi the bride, was matron of honor, and Archibald McClure, i the bridgpmQom's brother, was best; man: \";*rae :jbrido wore a simple robe of ivory wliite satin with garniture '«6f Venetian Iac6 and carried a bouquet of lilies of the j^lley. Mr. and Mre. MeClure left immediately after %- ther Wedding for a trip South and probably will be in Lake Forest upon their return, although their plans are ratner indefinite. Wedding announcement, March 30, 1916. wedding was a picture of decorum. Dr. McClure performed the ceremony, Isabelle was her sister's matron of honor, Jim's brother Arch was best man. Elizabeth described it for Wiggy, still in France. The wedding was very small . . . We were married in the library in a niche opposite the fireplace and just before it was time the sun came out & just illuminated everything. It was lovely. I had a white satin dress made with huge panniers on either side & a funny little pointed waist & a fichu of my mother's rose point applique lace that she had on her wedding gown—it was a pretty dress Wiggy dear, if I do say it. Only a very few Lake Forest friends like the Thompson's & Farwells & McCormicks were there—we didn't even have invitations issued so you see what a quiet affair it was . . . Wiggy darling I'm so very happy, you can't think how dear & good & considerate Jim is to me. At the end of a month I shall be totally spoiled and we are such huge friends Wiggy wag & I somehow feel as though I had been married years & years . . . It's the real thing Wiggy dear. . . . (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, April 6, 1916) The circle of the beautiful courtship of Elizabeth Cramer and Jim McClure was complete. With indefinite plans they went south, allowing the promise of adventure and odd circumstances to rule their days. Their marriage would prove to be a strong foundation on which to build a new and remarkable life together, one that even Elizabeth's vivid imagination could not have foreseen. �Chapter Eleven Hickory Nut Gap Farm Mere possessions don't interest me a bit but possessions that can be used to create surroundings that will express the best understanding of beauty that one has, becomes a rarely worthwhile undertaking and one that is worth immense effort. Why? Because a room or a house "furnished" with this principle back of it means something added to the collective beauty of the world and is another way to bring people in contact with the spirit of perfection. And as the Collective Beauty of the world grows, just so the Spirit of God is increasingly revealed. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., January 24, 1916) Mr. and Mrs. McClure will go south on their wedding trip. They are undecided as to where they will reside . . . and for how long a time they will be away. (The Chicago Daily News, March 29, 1916) There is much to be said, if one marries at thirty-one, for being thoroughly unoccupied with and disconnected from the distractions of the world for a time. Although both Jim and Elizabeth had been involved in their own pursuits and adventures, the circumstances of their courtship helped to wipe clean any commitments one would have expected of two such vibrant individuals. In the spring of 1916, the only given in their lives was their marriage. And from that point of departure, all else had to be added, consciously and together, one item at a time. It was, as Elizabeth would have said, a "delicious situation." They were not particularly pressed for time. They had a sufficient joint income to keep themselves afloat financially, and they had the admonitions of the doctors from Dansville to let life flow lazily around them until Jim's recovery was complete. The circumstances could not have been better arranged for the new couple, and it seems clear that during this time of adjustment both individuals were fortified and strengthened by the union of each other's habits and daily conduct of life. The honeymoon was to be a blend of spring in Appalachia, the new Hudson automobile, and an adventurous "gypsy life." Jim suggested to Elizabeth, when he was still in Daytona, that they have the Hudson shipped to Asheville, North Carolina; and that they roam about the mountains camping out, or staying in small inns and in general being completely incommunicado from their former lives and acquaintances. Elizabeth's response was enthusiastic. I just adored the idea of sleeping out, tine nights a la belle etoille! It would be such a joyful thing to turn into gypsies! I've always envied them, their 183 �184 We Plow God's Fields ability to go to bed by the road! And as you say, it would be so easy to manage with good warm blankets and some rubber things (and a pillow or two—you wouldn't object to my having a pillow, would you my own Dear!) (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr. February, 18, 1916) I can hardly wait to turn into a gypsy! It's such a joy to be marrying somebody who likes to do haphazard out of the way things! I should hate the idea of a tent, but a bed on the ground is something I've always pined after. I quite agree with you that it is better to "go slow" at first. It will take us a little time to get a financial grasp on just how much living expenses are going to work o u t . . . Besides it will be much more fun to go to little inns & boarding houses than to go to big hotels. All my days I've been going to big hotels & it would be so stupid to go on doing it now. We'll get a lot more out of the little places & it will be immensely interesting. Once in a blue moon or so we can stop off at a sporty hotel just to see the people & hear a band. I so love to think of the frying pan & a bed out of doors. I've got an old jaeger sleeping bag, maybe it would be a good thing to take along? (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 19, 1916) . . . I'm so rejoiced that you like doing queer things & that you like stopping off at queer places. Let's always keep on doing queer things all our days! I don't care if I never see a bathtub again . . . All my days I've had a gloomy fear that if I ever did get a husband he'd be eminently respectable & sober and anxious to do everything a month in advance and, oh my goodness me, all our days we'd jog along in one little rut with never a turning to right or left. Now you are not at all respectable, James Gore King. More than that, you are not at all "careful" or "anxious" or cautious and I love you more than tongue can tell. .. You've given me such a nice comfortable feeling of space about me too; I feel as though I could stretch up in all directions & there would be no restraining bars anywhere. To go back to the alluring topic of gypsies, do you remember Stevenson's "Night Along the Pines," in the Travels with a Donkey? And the lines in it from an old play? The bed was made, the room was fit, By punctual eve the stars were lit; The air was sweet; the water ran; No need was there for maid or man, When we put up my ass and I At God's queer caravanserai. Do you remember what Stevenson says? "Night is a dead, monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly with its stars & dews & perfumes . .. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked between walls & curtains is only a light & living slumber to the man who sleeps afield . . . And to live out of doors with the woman a man loves is of all lives the most complete & free ..." How does this affect you, Sir? When I read it & think of you, it is almost as though I were with you now. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 22, 1916) �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 185 Elizabeth's literary imagination easily transformed Stevenson's donkey into the Honeymoon Hudson, as incongruous as her gypsy vision must have appeared in that sleekest and shiniest of new cars. To the mountain people of Western North Carolina, they would have appeared in 1916 as nothing less than strays from a world of wealth unimaginable. But they were by no means the first of their kind to appear in the region. Asheville, North Carolina in 1916 had earned for itself quite a sporty reputation, and catered to some of the wealthiest citizens in the country. George Vanderbilt's colossal home, Biltmore House, was located just south of town. E. W. Grove invested part of his patent medicine fortune in the Grove Park Inn, one of the most well-known and respected hotels in the United States. During the summer season, Asheville glittered with many of the same kinds of people and gatherings with which Elizabeth and Jim had grown up. But just beyond the glitter, there was a population of mountaineers who, for the most part, were left untouched by the Industrial Revolution. Cash was scarce, and Hudson automobiles were cause for comments. Out beyond the local markets of towns like Asheville, there was almost no way to sell crops, and as a result great populations of people lived a subsistence style of life based invariably on a big garden, a few hogs, wild meat, berries and edible plants. It would be to these men and women, with their strong religion, self-sufficient habits and ability to work, that Jim and Elizabeth would devote their lives. And it was on their honeymoon that they became acquainted with this peculiar region; and they never left. The plan of the honeymoon was of course to have no plan. But they were required back in Lake Forest on April 12 for young Ambrose's wedding, and they returned for two weeks to take in all the festivities surrounding that event. Elizabeth described it to Martha Clarke: "Jim and I spent two hectic weeks at home alternately visiting the aunts, the McClures & Rathmore. We spent all our free moments boxing up various possessions ..." (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, April 28, 1916). Jim's father again performed the ceremony, while Jim ushered. Afterwards, they fled south again, this time to look seriously for a farm to rent as a temporary home to speed Jim's recovery. They began again in Asheville, where they had left the Hudson, and headed west into the Sapphire Country near Brevard, North Carolina. Dearest Wiggy, We have been camping out in the mountains having the finest time in the world but far from the post! I wish you could see us! We are honeymooning with no plans whatever; we just move from day to day. Jim has concocted the greatest sleeping bag you ever saw which is a bed all "made up" and ready to pop into. It is encased in black oilcloth & stands up in the bag like a fat black sausage! Then Jim has devised a box which hinges onto the side of the car and carries all our provisions & food, it's famous! And we look highly respectable but are really wandering gypsies. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, May 17, 1916). �186 We Plow God's Fields One morning they awoke to find themselves surrounded by curious little boys in overalls, which made dressing a bit of a problem. Sometimes they stayed in country inns. Wiggy learned from Elizabeth: "We are just having the time of our lives. We spent Sunday with an old lady in Morganton who lives in an old, old house & who gave us the most delicious food while two ancestral portraits looked down on us from the wall. Tuesday night we slept at a farm and were royally entertained. There were box hedges growing in the front yard that the farmer's mother had planted 60 years ago and some quaint old furniture within ..." (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, June 21, 1916) Their plan was to find a small country place to rent so that they could take time to find a farm to buy. They kept looking, but saw no place that suited, until one day they were driving along the old turnpike road that led from Asheville through the little town of Fairview and across a valley toward the mountains. They began the ascent of the Hickory Nut Gap, historically one of the most important passage ways across the Blue Ridge. As the Hudson's gears groaned under the strain of the steep and rough road, Elizabeth and Jim looked up to see a large weather-beaten house nestled under the mountains at the top of a long, sloping pasture. Slowing the car, Elizabeth and Jim both gasped, "That's the place for us!" The old inn, in its unique situation, appealed to their sense of drama and history. But of course they had to have a closer look, and who could say that the inhabitants had any notion of selling? Jim and Elizabeth pulled up to the house, and found the owner was an elderly gentleman of about eighty whom everyone called "Judge" Phillips. His title signified nothing but the respect of his friends, perhaps earned by his success in persuading his young ward of eighteen to marry him. Her mother, at some age in between, rounded out the Phillips household. Undoubtedly Jim cheerily thrust his hand out to the old gentleman and said, "My name is McClure, and this is my wife, Elizabeth." Jim McClure was famous for his charm and he must have been especially persuasive that day. He and Elizabeth were given a tour of the place, and at some critical juncture of the visit the old Southern 'judge' and the young Yankee minister disappeared into a room of the house to talk business, man to man. Elizabeth and the young wife were left in each other's company on the porch. The girl broke down and sobbed on Elizabeth's shoulder, begging the newcomers to buy the house so her husband would move back to town and she could leave her solitary rural existence behind. Elizabeth used to say in later years she wondered why one bride should be in such a hurry to move in when another was so anxious to move out!1 Mr. Phillips said he would consider Jim's offer of $6,000, and the McClures headed for Virginia where Ambrose Cramer was anxious to have them settle. "For three sporty days," Elizabeth wrote Wiggy, "we went to the Homestead, which is the swagger hotel here" (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, July 7, 1916). Then they moved to a more modest pension de famille and �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 187 Top: Sherrill's Inn; photograph taken by the McClures circa 1917. Bottom: Smokehouse/ stockade located at Sherrill's Inn. �188 We Plow God's Fields continued their search. But nothing they saw in Virginia compared with the old inn at Hickory Nut Gap. Elizabeth described it for Wiggy: . . . & it has been . . . because of its commanding position, a genuine landmark. It is 45 minutes en auto from Asheville on a fine motor road & just two miles & a half from a little village called Fairview. It has an altitude of 2700 feet so you can imagine how fine the air is & it is just at the crest of one of the Blue Ridge ranges with a most superb view across the valley at the mountains in the distance & at the little town lying far below. There are 50 acres of bearing apple trees—2500 trees so the present owner tells us, & superb old oak & chestnut trees on the grounds; wide porches, the finest spring you can imagine flowing so freely that it can be piped to the house by gravity & the loveliest little cement lined "springhouse" for keeping milk & butter etc. cool. Then there is a big farm & a dairy & a huge vegetable garden. Of course the house is just the simplest kind of an old southern wooden farmhouse unpainted, but it has a great deal of atmosphere & is by far the most distinguished place around Asheville,-or indeed of any we've seen. It could be made fascinating with very little expenditure & it has a wonderful all year round climate & is so near to Asheville that you could run in for lunch or golf or anything else. Then there is an R.F.D. right to the door & in summer (I'm not certain about winter) a regular motor service twice a day past the door into Asheville. It would be a simply wonderful place to live in. We've made the owner an offer of renting it for two years, we are putting in a bath & furnace & making some minor changes with an option of buying it for $6,000 at the end of that time. Jim thinks that the apple yield alone will pay the tenants salary & the general upkeep, so we feel sure that old Judge Phillips will never accept our offer but they say he wants cash so there is just a chance so, though it's a very slim one indeed (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, July 7, 1916) When the McClures returned to Asheville they discovered that a catastrophe had struck in their absence. On Sunday, July 16, 1916, the worst flood ever to hit the region swept away millions of dollars worth of investments and a considerable number of human lives. The damage was not confined to the flood plains. Many a mountain cabin came tumbling down the hillside as the over-saturated soil slid off its rock base. It had been a grim Sabbath in the mountains, and Jim and Elizabeth must have been shocked by what they saw. But they were desperate to hear from the Judge, and despite the fact that no automobile had been able to drive to Fairview since the flood, Jim loaded up a shovel and with characteristic determination made his way. All the bridges were washed out, but by careful driving and a lot of shovelling he was able to ford the creeks and reach Sherriirs Inn. The results of this meeting were recorded in the Buncombe County deed books for August 10, 1916. Both husbands and wives signed the lease agreement giving the McClures approximately sixty-five acres, and the house, with an option to buy in two years for $6,000. In lieu of rent, the McClure's were to " . . . install in the residence of said property a heating plant and bathroom." Soon after, Jim and Elizabeth rented eighty acres �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 189 contiguous with the property, for $100 over two years, and with the option to buy it all for $900.2 It is a testimony to the vision of Jim and Elizabeth that they saw the potential of this neglected and dilapidated landmark. Elizabeth, with her high standards of decorum, was taking on a new home that was unpainted and served by an outhouse. Old pictures show a drab building situated on a landscape strewn with boulders, as if pigs had been allowed to root right up to the threshold. Neighbors later commented to the McClures that Mr. Phillips was so lazy that when someone came to buy apples, he would stick his head out of a window and tell them to go pick their own and leave the money on the doorstep. The room that became the McClure study had been used by the Judge to store hams in ashes, and was in fact the original log cabin, built around 1800. His method of curing hams was to cover them with ashes, and Jim and Elizabeth had to wheelbarrow out nine loads of dirt and debris to even find the floor. The project they undertook together to redesign, repair and landscape this property is alone worthy of praise. It has remained a landmark in Western North Carolina, providing to date a 'home place' for four generations of McClures and Clarkes. Despite the short term of white settlement in Buncombe County, just over a century when Jim and Elizabeth moved in, their home half-way up Hickory Nut Gap already claimed a rich heritage of history and legend. A man named John Ashworth first bought the land for a shilling an acre, in "the XXXIst year of independence" (1797).3 The following story gives the flavor of the times: On a frigid winter night, the Ashworth family was huddled around their enormous fireplace, built big enough for the "old woman" to roast a whole pig. On this particular night, a starving wolf pack began to howl and moan just outside the cabin door. Mrs. Ashworth's husband was away, perhaps in the lowlands buying salt and other necessities, and so the responsibility of protecting the family fell to her. She grabbed the poker and placed it in the fireplace until it glowed red hot, and then she thrust it out under the door. One wolf bit at it, and burned his mouth so severely that the others smelled cooked meat. Another wolf snapped at the smell of burning flesh. A vicious fight broke out within the pack and soon they all ran off howling with hunger and pain.4 The first structure John Ashworth built on his place was a log fort, which was later used as a smokehouse. The building still stands, and is thought to be the oldest standing structure in Buncombe County. He believed the Cherokee enough of a menace to cut rifle slots in the thick, square poplar logs, so that he could fend off an attack if necessary. In 1834, Mr. Ashworth sold out to Bedford Sherrill, a stage coach driver. Sherrill married Molly, the daughter of the owner of Rack's Hotel in Chimney Rock, a village on the other side of the mountain. A new era in the mountains came with the construction by private companies of turnpike roads. One such road was built over Hickory Nut Gap to connect Asheville to Rutherfordton and points to the south and east. Mr. Sherrill secured the contract to carry the mails �190 We Plow God's Fields along this route, and to Tennessee on the northeast run. His "Albany Coach" could carry nine passengers inside and more on the top. He was an enterprising man, and could see the possibilities of his home becoming a tavern and inn. So when he bought it, he built a long two story addition onto the cabin, with plenty of room to put up travellers. The fifteen miles from Asheville to his inn were about as much as a traveller could endure in a day over the roads of that era.5 Within eight years, Bedford Sherrill was out of debt and pushing his business in new directions. He dropped the mail route, and began to sell goods to travellers and the local farmers. Records remain of the transfer of such items as cloth, shoes, coffee, tobacco, spices and brandy. Everything from horses to guns to castor oil was peddled at the inn. The farmers would usually pay for these goods in corn. In fact, a remarkable economy grew up in Buncombe and Henderson Counties in pre-Civil War Western North Carolina, as merchants used the turnpikes to drive great herds of swine across the mountains, to be sold to the plantation owners of South Carolina and Georgia. The trade built up to around 175,000 hogs a year, plus a number of turkey, sheep, mule and horse drives to boot. Bedford Sherrill worked hard to attract travellers away from the more popular Buncombe Turnpike to the Hickory Nut Gap road, with enough success to set up his own "stand," or temporary stockyard, to feed the hogs and drovers for the night.6 The stage coach continued its route through the mountains during most of the Nineteenth century, adding some colorful details to the history of the inn. As the stage began its slow journey up the mountain, the driver would blow a long horn, sounding it as many times as there were passengers on board. Up at the inn, Mrs. Sherrill listened and could judge by the horn just how much food she needed to prepare for supper. When the coach arrived, Mr. Sherrill would offer apple brandy to the weary and jolted passengers, and his slave boy would take the horses down to the barn. The guests would be shown their rooms, which were small cubicles reached by passing through the rooms in front. But travelling in those days provided few comforts, and there was always the tap room, where apple brandy, corn liquor, and sometimes strawberry wine and grape juice were available.7 Many distinguished guests stayed for the night at SherrilFs Inn, including members of the wealthy plantation families from the South where malaria threatened during the summer. In October of 1857, Governor Andrew Johnson of Tennessee signed the guest register, the same man who went on to become President of the United States after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln (and was nearly impeached). The signature of Millard Fillmore appears the year before, when he would have been president, but it has not been authenticated and may have been penned by a school girl practicing her handwriting.8 The Civil War brought chaos to the mountains. Local sympathies were divided, but once a young man had enlisted, his loyalty was fierce. The topography provided cover for the whole range of common criminals, deserters and �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 191 renegades that grew up along with the disturbances of the war. Bedford Sherrill was a slave owner, and his sympathies lay clearly with the South. Toward the end of the war, a General Palmer brought a detachment of Union soldiers through Hickory Nut Gap, and they stayed at Sherriirs Inn.9 Family stories of the Yankee soldiers' visit survive among Sherrill descendants. Word must have raced across the gap of the troops' approach, for the family had time to hide a gold watch or two on a ledge in one of the great chimneys, and to hang the hams in the thickness of the wall in the log cabin room, hanging Mrs. Sherrill's hoop skirts on pegs to cover the new carpentry. When the soldiers arrived the commanding officer rode his horse right onto the porch to demand lodging. There was a trap door to the basement in the floor. With bated breath the family watched to see if it would give way, but the hinges held. When a slave girl was frying eggs for the soldiers' breakfast next morning, one of the six Sherrill daughters took off her stockings and shook them over the pan exclaiming, "Those Yankees can eat the dust off my feet and they'll think it's pepper!"10 After the war, the Sherrills sold out to a Mr. Lee from Tennessee, who was fleeing persecution by the Union sympathizers of that region. Jim Walker (known as "Tight Jim") eventually took Mr. Lee to court, trying to prove that he had had him arrested and thrown in a Confederate prison in Richmond. Mr. Lee's troubles never seemed to cease. When he tried to market the "Woman's Friend and Steam Washer" and the "Genuine Improved Common Sense Sewing Machine," his only comment for the failure of his enterprise was that "The people here seem very cautious." He tried to attract the old drover traffic again, but the economy of the plantation South lay in ruins, drying up the hog market. So in 1874 Mr. Lee gave up, sold the place back to the Sherrill family, and left the country.11 The Sherrills re-established the inn in their name, and entertained travellers from Asheville on the way to tour the gorge on the other side of the gap. When the railroad was completed in 1880, the town of Asheville experienced an economic boom, and was well on its way to developing a reputation for "salubrious air," beauty, wealthy summer tourists, and tuberculosis sanitariums. The little town of Fairview grew up, and travel across the Gap increased. At the same time, visitors began to expect more comforts than an old inn could offer. The Sherrills sold out again, this time to a Captain Spangler, who in turn sold out to Old 'Judge' Phillips. He had worked the place for about ten years when Jim and Elizabeth drove up in the Honeymoon Hudson automobile. The newlyweds saw life as an adventure, and the purchase of this old inn with its romantic history was characteristic. No doubt their relatives back in Illinois were somewhat taken aback, but soon a fine traffic of Lake Forest visitors began to make their way to Hickory Nut Gap and they, too, were quickly charmed. Elizabeth was ecstatic. The house had history and good architectural lines, �NTER (1IE(',K f ^ xC^ • i <•} i\ IN fc X �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 193 and the location was a rare confluence of superb natural beauty, picturesque buildings and enormous potential for improvement. There were even ghosts to remind the McClures of the past! Dearest Wiggy, Do you remember that in my last letter I wrote you all about the place near Asheville that had once been an old inn..? . . . He accepted our offer & we take possession the 15th of September. It is a simply ideal place for us ... We are planning to move out to the Fairview Inn on Monday to take up our quarters there as there will be a good deal of red tape with regard to leasing the house . . . Then, as soon as the owners move out we will put in a furnace & a bathroom etc. & paint the house . . . Such apple trees, Wiggy darling, & such quinces! When you come to see Pigie you will have to put up loads & loads of jam & preserves! Just you wait till you see the fruit on the place & the lovely spring & oh such fine mountain air. You will get so fat when you come that you will have to buy all new clothes. I shall need your advice badly about planning the garden. If you ever get time to, send me a plan of the Trfcpied flower borders & I will try & duplicate it here—it would be such fun. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, August 5, 1916) Our place here is just a dream, darling, and some day we will be sitting [you] .. . down on a wide porch with a whole stretch of superb mountains out in front. Then dear, you'll be set down to a table full of country food & after that tucked into bed (perhaps a four poster) with a fire in the grate & a warm comforter over your toes & you'll sleep as you haven't slept in years . . . In no time you'll be just as fat as butter again & you'll forget all about this cruel war... In the meantime here we are at this charming little inn 2l/2 miles from the house & we shall probably be here until Christmas as there are a lot of little things that we have to do to the house & Jim has to take them slowly. Ever since we arrived here he has been so much better as he sees nobody & just rests & keeps out[side]-The doctors don't want rum to make any social effort so I don't think we will be able to have any guests—even family 'till next summer anyway & perhaps not till autumn. But he is getting on so splendidly I am very happy .. . We've decided to call our place "Old Tavern" because that's what it once was. How do you like the sound? It sounds cozy don't you think? (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, August 20, 1916) For the next several months, Elizabeth and Jim managed the repair and remodelling of "Old Tavern." They also began interviewing for a man to be in charge of the farm and a couple to help out with the work. By mid-November, Wiggy received this report: We have got the steam heating system almost in, at Old Tavern, & we're going to have the finest water system that was ever anybody's, I truly believe. Opposite: One of Mr. McClure's payments to Mr. H.T. Phillips for Hickory Nut Gap Farm. �194 We Plow God's Fields The source of the spring is about 300 feet above the house on the side of the mountain & the loveliest purest water will come running down to the house that you ever tasted. Our altitude is equal to the top of Mt. Equinox in Manchester so you can see how high we are & how good the air is. . . . We are more and more delighted with the place-it is superbly situated with a magnificent view, & all sorts of old stories center about it. We have had the house painted white & are lining the inside with beaverboard —painting it & panelling it with moldings. We can't afford to do but 3 of the rooms this year but it will be all the more fun doing a little at a time. I long for you to see it. The windows have little panes of glass that are all rainbow colours from age. (Elizabeth Cramer to Martha Clarke, November 10, 1916) Amidst all the projects going on about the house, and purchasing the property, and hiring on help, Jim McClure had to spend money as he never had before. Ever after his Yale days, he had worked to be as carefiil with money as he could. He felt strong resentment towards "conspicuous consumption" and felt great satisfaction in walking through Germany for almost no money at all and in inking the bare spots on his winter coat. His dreams of being a gypsy, or of going back to Texas and working with the old nester until he died, were the direct result of his attitude that real freedom came when one was no longer dependent on money. However impractical such a dream would be as a way of life, Jim McClure always remained unable to spend money merely to increase his own comfort. As a goal, he wanted to live for under $3,000 a year. On these issues, Jim and Elizabeth had some working out to do. No spendthrift herself, she did love the objects of life that were beautiful, and these were invariably expensive. All of the silver that flowed their way delighted Elizabeth, but bothered Jim. There was no great battle here, but merely a sore point that says a great deal about each of these people. In putting together the pieces of their household, the ways and means of spending money had to be faced. It was during the engagement that this issue of wealth was first broached. Dearest Thing: I know you wish you were marrying a pennyless creature! I'm sorry my blessed Dear to be depriving you of all such opportunities! But there's no use pretending you are marrying a lady without a red penny to her name. Facts are facts & they have to be accepted and the old idea that a husband must pay all the expenses & assume all the financial burden in marriage has always seemed absurd & conventional & irrational. It isn't any question of a man's growing "flabby" either as you said to me once so long as he .keeps true to his own highest purposes. Jointly, we shall have an income of $8,000.00 a year. If you were the sort of a man whose standard of life consisted of giving "sporty" dinner parties and keeping a footman & generally taking things easy there would be some truth in what you say about a man's becoming "flabby." But you know you're not that sort & you never could be. And it doesn't matter a row of brass beans which of us has the most money. What's yours is mine and what's mine is yours, that's all there is to it & its not right to make any difference .. . �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 195 You can't think my Dearest, my darling Jim how dreadfully it would make me feel if you refused to let us together use all our money, mine as well as yours. If you did otherwise it would be to live on an artificial basis. What earthly difference does it make that by some curious accident of life I happen to have a little more money than you? The fact that I am a woman should not for one moment have any bearing on the case. The only thing that is to be considered is that we lose no single opportunity to use all the money we have to the best possible advantage in God's world. It may be in buying furniture, it may be in getting you a new coat and it may be in doing over a church or in financing some social scheme or in buying me a hat. It's the principle that matters every time. I insist upon figuring always in all our living together on the basis of an $8,000.00 yearly income & not on the basis of a $3,000.00 income. Then .. . if we choose to run a very simple establishment, it will be because we feel that such action is in accordance with our attitude towards life & our social beliefs and not for what would be an artificial reason—namely the assumption that we couldn't afford more inasmuch as we only had $3,000.00 a year. I am as anxious as you are to try to run our house on $3,000.00 a year, but I am only anxious to do so because, just now, we have decided that $3,000.00 a year "establishment" best expresses our attitude toward life. I should never for a moment be willing to do so if I thought that it was because we were going on the assumption that we had only $3,000.00 a year to spend; that would be insincere because it would be dealing with an unreality. If our living expenses are kept within $3,000.00 a year we shall simply have to use the remaining $5,000.00 for the best purposes known to us; it might be for a pool in the garden, it might be for a sea voyage, it might be as a boost to somebody who was down and out, it might be to get a church going; all these things perhaps, and it goes without saying of course that we should always want to put some by for the inevitable rainy day & that the "ten percent" to the Lord seems a cold way of measuring out his money & that it would just have to go any way because we couldn't help ourselves. It seems to me, the only thing to remember is that you & I have been brought together to more adequately serve God's purposes & that if incidentally we have money it's simply up to us to use it to the fullest capacity & to accept life as it has come to us & use it. I tried to say all this to you once before but somehow I couldn't. I didn't think you were taking a square look at things. If you don't agree with me you can tell me why when you get back & then we'll talk it over. (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 21, 1916) Elizabeth's thoughts here were not the last word on the matter, but without a doubt there were to be times when Jim McClure would be mighty glad to have some of her family money to tide him, his family and the Farmers Federation over some tight places. One such place came early. Just after paying out so much money for the farm and its restoration, and then hiring the first wage earners, Elizabeth became ill and had an internal cyst removed. The bills began to pour in. The two of them moved back into Asheville and were staying at the swanky Manor Inn when Jim wrote to his sister Harriet: "You will be startled at the luxurious look of this �196 We Plow God's Fields letter heading but you will be more startled to see Siddy & Jamie reach Lake Forest in rags and overalls respectively, hounded by creditors and with a lean and starved look . . . E. is getting on famously . . . but it has been a very severe financial jolt to the McClures and they will be groggy for several months" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, October 31, 1916). Elizabeth related her version to Jim's mother: We hope to go back to Fairview early next week and I am eager to see how they are getting on at the "farm." Just now the countryside is gorgeous . . . "The operation" was more trying for Jim than for me—I redly believe. The poor dear lost ten pounds but he will soon get them back. He is really much better than he was when we were first married but he has not yet much endurance & so is still obliged to go very slow . . . 1 think "the farm" & its various out of door healthy activities are already doing him much good. . . . (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Phebe Ann Dixon McClure, November 1, 1916) The McClures decided to remain in town as the Fairview Inn was not heated. By December the work on the house was nearly completed and Elizabeth wrote to Wiggy describing how the place was looking. They were only completing three rooms downstairs. . . . the house is really going to be fascinating. It is all painted now with green blinds (like Trepied's) and the roof is a nice gray. Then inside, we are panelling the walls in the dining room & living room with strips of moulding and it will then be all painted a lovely old ivory white. The little hall is in the oldest part of the house together with Jim's study, so we have left it just as it was & have painted the old walls cream colour. There are two little ancient doors in the hall with old, old iron latches & hinges such as they used to have 100 years ago. You go up a step & one of these doors opens into Jim's study. There are huge hand hewn beams running across the ceiling & there we are staining an old one walnut & polishing with wax . .. We have engaged two such nice coloured people, a man & wife who together only cost us $8 a week(!) & who will do all the work about the house & in the garden. Our "apple man" too arrived Monday & has started pruning the old apple trees. He is named Davidson & has been superintendent of two State Test farms besides having an agricultural education to boot so we hope that he will make a financial "go" of the place. We are putting a good deal of cash into it all as we're so anxious to have the place pay in a couple of years. We really think it is one place in a thousand! (vain creatures!) We are putting up a nice little house for Davidson, down in the lower pasture & we also have to put up a little one-room servant house right near the back of "Old Tavern."..so you see we have our hands full. We've built the tenant house so that it looks as old as the rest of the place. The roof has a fine sway & the place is built along old time lines so its quite in keeping with the rest... The country life down here is really more like the Old English Country Life than anything . . . I just adore this country. There is really nothing in Europe more lovely . .. �The Road to Hickory Nut Gap 197 Tomorrow we plan to motor out to the place & spend the day taking our picnic lunch. It is such fun & we both love superintending the work . .. We have a fine road & such a drive. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, December?, 1916) The black couple, Esther and John Shorter, soon became the heart and soul of Hickory Nut Gap life. Esther died quite young, but John remarried. His new wife Mathilda Shorter, a plump young New Orleans girl, took over and stayed to raise the grandchildren. John Shorter had grown up in Fairview, and was a highly respected man for his fine character and his working skills. He had a cheerful heart and fine bushy mustache. James Davidson's first appearance was brief, as he was drafted into the U. S. Army during World War I. After the war, he returned to the farm and in time married a lovely young red-head named Virginia, adding another valuable member to the community. Elizabeth and Jim traveled to Chicago for Christmas, returning to North Carolina laden down with purchases for their new home. Elizabeth enjoyed so much thinking through the problems of interior design and making discoveries in shops of items that suited her exacting criteria. They returned to their Old Tavern in February, still unable to move in. In the latter part of the month, Jim and Elizabeth began to keep a diary together, jotting down short notes of their activities for the day. Often they would also include endearments to each other. Added to her father's nickname for her "Bios," and Wiggle's "Pigie," Jim added his own nickname for Elizabeth, "Petie." For her part, she addressed Jim as "Cricket." The first entry was a momentous one: February 27, 1917, "Esther & John start in with us." On March 12, 1917, the house was finally ready for habitation. Esther and John had worked hard to create a livable situation, but it certainly did not match the elegance of Rathmore. That March day was not a glorious one in the mountains. As Jim and Elizabeth motored along the highway from the Fairview Inn, it was pouring a chilly March rain and the gravel road was turning into mud. At the foot of the mountain, the Honeymoon Hudson bogged down for good. Jim trudged out into the weather and found John. Full of good cheer, John harnessed up his yoke of oxen, hitched them to the Hudson, and, with perhaps some happy thoughts about the superiority of animals over machines, dragged the automobile up the mountain. In his daily activities, Jim still had to go slowly. He and Elizabeth had the wonderful opportunity to picnic and take walks together and investigate the mountain landscapes they had purchased. More than that, they could both make decisions, and both plan and dream about the future of the farm and of their own lives. At this stage, the future remained outlined roughly this way: Jim would recover his health, seek a "call" in a church, and they would leave Hickory Nut Gap as a smoothly functioning business in the charge of Mr. Davidson. They would return for vacations, but it was not envisioned as a permanent home. In fact, they had only leased the property, and could have turned it all back over to Judge Phillips if other opportunities had come along. �198 We Plow God's Fields But slowly, the work, the money and the dreams the two of them enjoyed together, not to mention the very real charm of the house and mountains, worked their magic. If they had been forced to face the facts, they might have even admitted that they had found their home. Once Elizabeth planted her gardens, the die would be cast. Even though Jim's daily activities were slowed down by his debilities, the important elements of his life were rapidly fitting together. Within the span of two Marches, 1916 and 1917, Jim had both married and moved into his permanent home, having relocated both himself and his wife to completely unexplored territory. And little did he realize that in a few years time he would create an organization that would have as large an impact on this mountain region as perhaps any in its history. When Jim's father wrote him back in 1910 that so often the tragic times in one's life are seen in retrospect as the key turning points towards a new plan and purpose for that person, Jim perhaps shrugged off the idea as merely loving encouragement. But his father was correct. How else could events have conspired to bring together Elizabeth Cramer, Hickory Nut Gap, the mountaineers of North Carolina and Jim McClure? 1. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 2. Buncombe County Deed Books, Book 208, p. 435. 3. Old Deed located at Sherill's Inn. 4. Elspeth McClure, "Sherrill's Inn and the Development of Buncombe County," Unpublished paper, p.7. 5. Ibid., p. 9^-10. 6. Ibid., P. 10-11. 7. Ibid., p. 12-14. 8. Old Registers found at Hickory Nut Gap. 9. Op. Cit., "SherrilFs Inn and the Development of Buncombe County," p.2526. 10. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. This story was told to Mrs. Clarke by a member of the Sherrill family. 11. Op Cit., "Sherrill's Inn and the Development of Buncombe County." �Chapter Twelve Farmer Jim This week Jim has sold four pigs, purchased 4 ducks and a calf and sold large quantities of stuff to the hospital... in Asheville. His sales for the month of August are already over $200. (Arch McClure to Harriet Stuart, August 22, 1918) Since the Aunts installed a "cabinet de toillette" off the Green Room upstairs it is really not at all bad so we now have ample room for guests with a little country squeezing. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet Stuart, September 13, 1918) Our visit was a memorable one. I feel that Elizabeth and Jamie live hi an enchanted country, it is so beautiful. The mountains, the wonderful growth and variety of trees and shrubs, all make a real fairy land. Mr. McClure and I are delighted with it all. The house under Elizabeth's transforming genius is a gem in its rare setting. I wonder at all that has been accomplished. As to Elizabeth's housekeeping abilities, it is indeed amazing. Such order and system in her household, such delicious viands, the table so perfect in every particular, I must see you soon, and then talk it all over with you. How Elizabeth manages it all, through Esther and Eliza, I do not know. She certainly succeeds in inspiring them to do their best. As to the shelves filled with those shining jars of fruits and vegetables, all prepared under Elizabeth's directions, words fail me to express my amazement, and admiration. I do not wonder that 'Town and Country" celebrates her skill. (Phebe Ann Dixon McClure to the Misses Skinner, October 9, 1918) In the spring of 1917, the ghastly pall of World War I still hung over the Western World. The excitement and patriotism of those early days when Elizabeth watched Lord Kitchener emerge from the war office amidst cheering crowds had been replaced with the issuing of endless lists of grim statistics and numbing casualty lists. The Russian Empire was beginning to disintegrate under the weight of the war. As the McClures moved into their new home, the Tsar had abdicated and a moderate democratic government under Aleksandr Kerenski was searching for some formula on which to base its rule. Elizabeth expressed the American satisfaction with Russian democracy when she wrote to Wiggy, "Isn't it superb news about Russia. It is truly one of the few good things that have come as a result of this war. It should greatly aid the cause of the allies" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, April 20, 1917). But as the apple 199 �200 We Plow God's Fields trees bloomed that April at Hickory Nut Gap, the Germans were sending the fateful sealed train containing the communist "bacillus" in the person of Nikolai Lenin across the border to infect the already weakened Russian body politic. At the same time, America was preparing to enter the war. On April 2, 1917, Woodrow Wilson expressed the idealism of the American people when he explained his reasons for declaring war. He said, "The world must be made safe for democracy. Its peace must be planted upon the tested foundations of political liberty. We have no selfish ends to serve. We desire no conquest, no dominion. We seek no indemnities for ourselves, no material compensation for the sacrifices we shall gladly make."1 Despite Jim McClure's dogged opposition to American involvement in the war, he was moved by Wilson's words of idealistic purpose. One can imagine him bringing home the Asheville newspaper, and excitedly calling Elizabeth into the study to read her the speech. She had always suffered with her old French neighbors. She would argue with her more pacifistic husband that the war was a struggle against the German spirit of mechanical brutality. Before they were married, in 1915, she wrote him that when the cathedral of Reims was leveled by the Germans, she recoiled in horror that such beauty could be so quickly destroyed, and it confirmed her suspicions that the German government opposed the very ideal of beauty she held dearest. She also wrote to her father about it, and he wrote back that although the Cramers were of German stock, they claimed the ancestral homeland of Southern Germany, and not that of the militaristic state of Prussia. Wilson's message of self-sacrifice and a united effort to win the war could not have been better designed to put a zealous spirit into Jim McClure. Here he was, living on a farm, and what the nation needed was food, enough to feed the allied armies and all those left behind without a breadwinner. Herbert Hoover was placed in charge of the home front, and was so successful in appealing to the nation's patriotism that there was never a need for ration cards. The popular sentiment was: My Tuesdays are meatless, My Wednesdays are wheatless, I'm getting more eatless each day. My coffee is sweetless, My bed it is sheetless, All sent to the Y.M.C.A.2 World War I was all out war, and by 1917 it was clear to nearly everyone that the winning side would be the one whose economy could be mobilized to produce the necessary food, arms and supplies. Russia, with its immense stores of raw materials, was about to withdraw altogether, but not before the German army had captured the Ukrainian bread basket. France and Britain had been bled almost dry by 1917, and morale was beginning to slip. The Germans prepared �Farmer Jim 201 one more large thrust at Paris, to break through before the United States forces could arrive. But in the end, as much as her soldiers, it was the strength of America's industrial economy that won the war. Moreover, it was Woodrow Wilson's statement of. high principles that allowed his country to rally so strongly behind the effort. The call for production of foodstuffs made a serious farmer out of Jim McClure. He wrote to Harriet during the summer: The food shortage seeming so acute, and not being able to do anything else, we decided to get the remaining land that the old Judge had and which was lying idle & useless. We are now engaged in making plans for its temporary and future use and enjoying it vastly. As time goes on our specialties will be orchards & beef cattle, but the next year or so we may raise considerable grain. Except for the car, oxen are our sole means of conveyance & work & we use them to plough, cultivate and every other farm activity. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, June 11, 1917) Elizabeth wrote to Wiggy in France: Everyone here is of course occupied with the war. Many of the young men in Chicago have already enlisted. Ambrose has gone into some sort of clerical work to do with the Navy . . . We are very busy planting extra crops as that seems to be the great necessity this year .. . We've planted about 4 acres . .. in beans for the allies besides various other crops such as corn & wheat. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, May 27, 1917) Her father kidded them when news came to Rathmore that they had purchased more land to aid the war effort. "Darling Bios," he wrote, "So you Hickory Nut Gap people are land Barons and deliciously short of cash. Well, *Ya can na be baith grand and comfortable'" (Ambrose Cramer, Sr., to Elizabeth Cramer McClure, August 8, 1917; quote from J.M. Barrie, The Little Minister). Ambrose Cramer's curiosity had already brought him down to North Carolina to see just where this idealistic minister had taken his "Darling Blossom." Elizabeth wrote to Wiggy, "Mother & Father & Corwith came down for a few days ... Father just had the time of his life walking about and giving advice. We really have a perfectly beautiful old place & such a view of the mountains . . . I think it was really far nicer than they had anticipated. It really is quite a place, Wiggy dear, & in 10 years if we are still in the land of the living & still out of Debtors' prison it ought to be a beauty" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, May 27, 1917). Jim hired James Davidson, an agricultural graduate of North Carolina State, to manage the farm because he was an experienced orchardist. He was promptly drafted into the U. S. Army, but returned in 1918. Mr. Davidson was not only an able farmer, but also had the knack of leading the work force with �202 We Plow God's Fields a minimum of tension. Jim himself enjoyed the men who came to live on his farm. He found their mountain ways both fascinating and exasperating. He wrote to his parents that March: We have a new hand working for us. He moved in on Tues. with a wife and three children—using our oxcart for the moving—and reported for work on Weds, with a wife & four children at home—mother & daughter doing well. He is quite pleased with himself & feels that he moved just in time. . . . if we do not go broke should make a good showing with our crops. We plan to plant so much that they will have a hard summer caring for it—but I feel relieved to have three men we can depend on & not have to chance picking up day labor. . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to his parents, March 17, 1917.) Elizabeth had never cooked a meal, although in later years she became as talented a cook as she was a painter. In her report to Wiggy she listed the latest acquisitions, and described the routine of her typical day. We have had to buy a pair of mules & two oxen-we also now possess 3 cows & 3 pigs and two calves so you see our livestock is increasing—not to mention chickens . . . You said you wanted to know how we spent our days. In the morning by 8 o'clock breakfast comes, rumbling up on a dumbwaiter. Then after breakfast I attend to our room & bathroom, make the beds & generally tidy up. Jim stays in bed until after lunch & I spend the morning doing all sorts of things from painting chairs & tables to arranging flowers. After lunch we both snooze for an hour; then Jim gets up & goes down to the porch & we read or write. After tea we go for a little stroll & then comes supper. Once in a great while we go over to Fletcher & call on friends there but as a rule Jim sees nobody. He overdid a little this Spring in the interest of making over the place, so now I am very strict with him so that he will be well enough to go to Manchester in September to visit the Aunts. . . . (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, July 16, 1917) This letter reminds us that Jim McClure was still a long way from full recovery. His daughter Elspeth finds it hard to believe this schedule after knowing the vigorous and tireless man her father became. It was somewhere between his after lunch snooze and tea that Jim sat and wrote down the ideas that bubbled through his mind. Prior to Wilson's declaration of war, he had taken a strong stand against American involvement. Back in 1914 he had written a letter that was published in the Chicago Tribune under the heading "Faith in Mankind." In it, he suggested a radical departure from traditional dependence on military strength. We can wipe out our coast defenses, reduce our navy to a police force, and say to the world that the day of force has passed, as we in 1775 said the day of autocracy is past... �Farmer Jim 203 If we adopt a policy of non-resistance we proclaim once more and out loud our faith in all mankind.3 Jim never shrank from challenging the basic presuppositions of any cause or concept, and rather enjoyed his provocative nature. His brother-in-law, Dumont Clarke, was equally devoted to Christian ideals in his own way and according to his own temperament. He was a determined leader in the peace movement during and after World War I, and Jim admired especially the way Dumont made a personal sacrifice to back his beliefs. Long before the war he had been given a number of shares of stock in a company that manufactured submarines. Prior to August 1914, the stock price languished at around $15 a share. When war broke lose, the price naturally leaped upwards. Dumont told Jim of his dilemma, a man preaching world peace growing rich off the war. Most of his friends told him not to worry, that he should not miss a chance like this to make easy money. As the price rose, Dumont felt more and more guilty. At $115 a share, he sold out. The money realized, $19,000, was sent to missions set up to relieve suffering caused by the war. That particular stock continued to rise in value, eventually reaching its apex at $530 a share. Jim wrote in his notebook that Dumont was "Very glad he sold when he did for [he] fears if [he] had gotten so much for it, he would have thought of other things he could do with the money & not had [the] resolution to give it all away. Even as it was [he] caught himself looking at [the] papers to see how [the] stock was rising & felt [the] beginnings of demoralization."4 But Jim and Dumont encouraged each other's ethical decisions, trying to make their own way of thinking conform better with the notion of the coming Kingdom of God. After the declaration of war Jim joined in support of his country's struggle against the German state, at first reluctantly and then with enthusiasm. Actually the conduct of war fascinated him, and the leisure of his convalescence gave him the opportunity to study events as they unfolded. What interested him most was the self-sacrifice demanded of the soldier, and of the whole country as well, and how people willingly joined in overwhelming support. Why was it that war commanded so much unity and obedience, and most people at the front enthusiastically accepted the extra burdens? Why could not men and women learn to pursue the vision of the Kingdom of God with a similar attitude of single-minded selflessness? Peace and world harmony were much worthier goals than victory in war. Ironically, Jim McClure was quite heartened by the American response to war, and he became convinced that the same power of morale could be kept strong when it was over, to rebuild the world on firmer foundations. That summer of 1917 he wrote in his notebook: The right attitude toward mankind, is, I am sure, something like this—That millions of men have a longing & a vision of an ideal state of society. This ideal might with ease be developed into the ideal of the Kingdom on earth. Further, millions of men are willing to make enormous sacrifices for this idea, �204 We Plow God's Fields i.e. the millions of men, & of others at home, too, who are willing to sacrifice in the present war. The great need then is to work out the means of bringing this ideal state of society & explaining it definitely.5 Jim continued to wrestle with these thoughts, trying to develop them h a workable and practical alternative to war. This frightful monster, Prussianism, with all its loathely characteristics, suddenly unclothed itself and attacked an unbelieving world, a world not willing to believe & not able to conceive such barbarism still possible . . . It sardonically & efficiently violated everything that the long labors of idealists had made sacred. It had to be opposed immediately, there could be no delay. Many & many a man was torn between the ideal which he dimly felt that he saw in the life and death of Jesus, the way of love and reliance solely on spiritual power and on the goodness & divinity latent in mankind; and the old and tried method of armed resistance . . . The decision had to be made at once . . . But there can be no doubt that it was not Christ's way. Christ grew up at a time when the whole hope of his nation was in the Messiah who was coming to lead the people by force into freedom & security . . . Christ chose . . . a different way. He put his sole reliance on the spiritual forces latent hi the hearts of mankind . .. With no resistance he allowed himself to be battered & killed by brutal, coarse, densely unspiritual men. There can be no doubt that he discarded physical force as an inferior method. And astonishing as it seems there can be no doubt of the success of his method. The very sacred belief that he wanted to give mankind, that each individual was capable of infinite spiritual development, that he was of the same nature as God himself . . . that very belief commenced to spread. As it spread it commenced to recreate mankind. Force never has been able to prevail against it. Rome, by force, attempted to exterminate the Christians . . . The offenders (Germany et al). . . are going to continue living in our world &, as the distances grow shorter, cheek by jowl with us. Shall we have a continual thorn in our flesh or shall we have a well wishing cooperator & helper. Our problem is how to make the offender into a co-operator. And this is where force fails .. . The German is going to keep on living & right in our world, rubbing shoulders with us. Our problem is not to exterminate him but to make him our co-worker, our helper... We can do that only by spiritualizing him. And there is but one way to do that. It is not by talking, or writing . . . It is by living it ourselves; by the power of life (or example)... It happened to Christ. He recognized the futility of a tirade against force, or a wordy spiritual propaganda when he was tried. He went ahead, simply living his life staking his all on the spiritual possibilities in mankind and let them try and kill him . . . It takes nerve, it seems impossible, a joke almost, absurd, but Christ took that very sort of a chance—and God stood by him.6 �Farmer Jim 205 All this time Jim kept plugging away at farming, but often he overworked, and his old physical troubles would flare up again. He was unhappy with the slow progress of his recovery and decided to consult again with a doctor who had offered him hope for recovery the previous fall. He and Elizabeth went first to Manchester, where the fall foliage was still bright, to see the Skinner aunts. They enjoyed many of the old haunts of their courtship days without being pursued by the gossip of friends and relatives. In November they went down to the little town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, in the Berkshire Mountains, to submit to the care of the remarkable Dr. Austen Riggs. Elizabeth described the situation to Wiggy: Here we are ... for a few days with the Aunts on our way to Stockbridge, Mass, for two or 3 weeks where Jim will take a "cure" with Dr. Riggs who is supposed to be quite a wizard in these respects. He looked Jim over last September & said that his case was as definite as typhoid or a broken leg & needed similar definite treatment. Jim was not making the fast progress he wished to make, so we are going north for a few weeks. I myself am in the best of health as usual—fairly bouncing. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, November 18, 1917) Dr. Austen Riggs had been a successful physician in New York City when he contracted tuberculosis in 1908. He moved to Stockbridge to recover, and there had the leisure to reread the philosophy of William James. He also filled his hours by working with his hands: building ship models and constructing his own bows and arrows. He took up "clog dancing," a curious Appalachian folk style, and he fenced and drummed along with Sousa marches. It slowly dawned on him that the satisfactions of such activities were a wonderful antidote to "modern life," and he prescribed similar pastimes as therapy for his patients. When a patient first came to talk with him, he would ask, "Why have you come to me?" Invariably the reply would be something like, "Because I want to get well, Doctor, I want to get well!" "That," Dr. Riggs would reply, "doesn't interest me. Why do you want to get well?" Austen Riggs understood human life to be an interaction between one's intellect and one's environment. If a person was struggling along, it was because he had made a poor adjustment to that environment, or because the environment itself was faulted. Since there was little Dr. Riggs could do to alter the conditions of a person's situation, he worked to understand how an individual had adjusted both psychologically and philosophically to his environment, and then tried to improve that adjustment. He was forever quoting Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes around the sanitarium, "The great purpose of life is to live it," then adding the corollary, "Happiness . . . is only a by product of successful living." He believed that the body and mind were indivisible, but that the mind or intellect must always take the lead in the adjustment process. His stated theory was: " . . . a person functions on four levels, the reflex, the instinctive, the intelligent, and the ethical . . . The elements of mood and temperament complete the picture of an individual. The �206 We Plow God's Fields individual plus his environment . . . equals adaptation or maladaptation. Out of the latter rise the problems loosely catalogued as 'nervous,' the psychoneurosis sometimes so elaborately cloaked by resulting physical ills." Dr. Riggs worked almost exclusively with men and women of social position. He found that the first step was for them to overcome their inhibitions enough to admit that their breakdown was something other than self-indulgence or worse, incurable insanity. Jim's cure, like everyone's, began with a frank talk. Dr. Riggs continued these interviews, trying to learn in what way the patient was out of line with his world. In the meantime, the cure consisted of working with one's hands in the shop in therapeutic activities. In short, the Riggs treatment was an educational process that emphasized "balanced living, with work, play and rest all in proportion ..." His only advice was to accept reality, accept life as it is. "Nervousness is not a disease but a disorder.. .simply a maladjustment on the part of an otherwise perfectly sound, essentially normal person, and therefore it is avoidable." He preached his own ten commandments: 1. Neither run away from emotions nor yet fight them. Accept them as the wellsprings of all action. They are your automatically mobilized energies. Force these energies into the channels of your choice . . . it is like guiding spirited horses. 2. Be efficient in what you do. Do not drive your tacks with a sledge hammer. Find out how easily you can do things well, and take pride in such skill. 3. Do one thing at a time. Only thus can we practice concentration. I do not mean that violent over-dramatization of effort, but the gentle art of controlling the attention. 4. Make clean-cut practical decisions, subject to change in the face of new facts or additional knowledge. 5. Do not accept hurry as a necessary part of modern life. Quality of work, not quantity, spells success, and quality is destroyed by hurry. 6. Worry is a complete circle of inefficient thought whirling about a pivot of fear. To avoid it, consider whether the problem in hand is your business. If it is not, turn to something that is. If it is your business, decide it is your business now. If so, decide what is best done about it. If you know, get busy. If you don't know, find out promptly. Do these things; then rest your case on the determination that, no matter how hard things may turn out to be, you will make the best of them—and more than that no man can do. 7. Keep work, play, rest and exercise in their proper relative proportions; not only in the space of decades, but year by year, month by month, week by week, day by day. 8. Shun the New England conscience. It is a form of egotism which makes a moral issue of every trivial thought— 9. When a decision has been reached, when something has to be done, waste no time in "getting up steam"—just do it. 10. Do not criticize your part in the play, study it, understand it, and then play it, sick or well, rich or poor, with faith, with courage, and with the proper grace.7 �Farmer Jim 207 Dr. Riggs' philosophy of treatment spoke to Jim's problems. He had been struggling with his temperament, one that certainly resembled "spirited horses," and needed to be told how important a balanced life was: "work, play, rest and exercise." "He seems to be benefiting Jim already," Elizabeth wrote Wiggy, "& [he] assures him that he will come out on top—all of which is very good news. Jim is really in very good shape most of the time, but he is eager to get back all his old endurance & vim so we are here to hurry things up" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, December 4,1917). They remained in Stockbridge through Christmas. Jim includes a progress report in this "thank you" to Harriet, who often supplied him with new suits and had sent him one as a Christmas gift: I only fear that when the doc sees me sporting all the grandeur, he will murmur "some fellah," and double his bill.. . I am progressing famously and in about 10 days we are going to Andover (to visit Annie and Dumont) for my trial trip. The doc sends his patients out on a trial trip & then they return to report to him. After that we will rush for Hickory Nut Gap— . . . The Aunties & Siddy each gave me a Hampshire sheep—I am most anxious to see them. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, December 26, 1917) The visit to Andover, where Dumont Clarke was serving as school chaplain, went well. Elizabeth's next report to Wiggy continued to be optimistic. "Jim is getting on wonderfully. He is better than he has been in years. Isn't that fine?" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, January 1, 1918). A few weeks later she reported, "Here we are back . . . for what we think will be only a short stay. We have been in Andover 10 days staying with Jim's sister on a sort of trial trip & Jim fared unbelievably well. He didn't take a single rest, even, except for the orthodox Sunday nap and did just what he liked. It is wonderful to see him so well again" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, January 27, 1918). And finally, Elizabeth relays the message to Wiggy that "Here we are, mon chere, on our way back to the farm from Stockbridge. Jim is wonderfully well but the doc wants him to remain at the farm another year" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, February 11, 1918). Jim and Elizabeth left Dr. Riggs' sanitarium on the eighth of February. The short interlude with Dr. Riggs made a dramatic difference to Jim McClure. Somehow, those private meetings and all the therapy in between helped him to finally take control of the illness that had plagued him for eight years. Throughout the rest of his life, Jim gave Dr. Austen Riggs the credit for freeing him from his malaise. They were home at Hickory Nut Gap on the twentieth, settling back into their routine. The "Riggs cure" seemed to be holding, except for a few mild warnings, and Jim did his best to balance his life better with equal doses of work and play. Mr. Davidson was in the Army, and Jim slowly took on more �208 We Plow God's Fields of an active role in managing the farm. As Elizabeth mentioned to Wiggy, the household was still enduring life on a wartime footing. Everyone here in America is trying to think up substitutes for meat, wheat & sugar & the housewives are busy delving into cookbooks. I wish you could hear me talk about corn breads & wheat products! I made a poster a short time ago representing a beautiful lady feeding a pig with a stout soldier standing by. It read KEEP A PIG IN THE BACKYARD! Hoover says "a pig is worth more than a shell in winning the war." . . . We hope to put up 500 quarts of vegetables & fruit this summer so I shall be busy! (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, January 27, 1918) Jim set his production goals quite high for 1918: "three to four thousand bushels of corn, two hundred bushels of wheat and rye, one thousand bushels of apples, five hundred of potatoes and fifty pigs . . . pretty good for a farm that has been producing nothing to speak of for years past!" Elizabeth noted. Three more hands were hired, and Hickory Nut Gap began to hum with life. The two Yankees became totally immersed in the farming ways of the mountains, and their new home began to be the scene of a remarkable cultural interchange. For Jim and Elizabeth, the summer of 1918 was their true baptism into an Appalachian world. A fascination for the people caught in the mountain backwaters began inexorably to overcome these two. They became consumed by a desire to throw their idealism, their leadership and their very lives in with them, in order to create a new economic and spiritual basis on which everyone could enjoy the fruits of modern civilization. A look at the diaries of the learned minister and his artist wife give a graphic picture of the education the mountaineers provided for the McClures during 1918, when they returned from Dr. Riggs' Sanitarium. Sometimes one made the entry, sometimes the other: March 7 Elizabeth] spent a furious day cleaning the dairy. Clad in a raincoat & perched in the rafters she used the hose with such effect that she nearly took the roof off. March 8 E. spent another terrific day wrestling with the old kitchen. After dinner [we] went together down to [the] Sumner tract where Sinclair was ploughing & Mr. Nix, John Settle & Zeb MacAbee were clearing. Pisgah [Mountain] had "broke out" [in fire]. Mr. Sumner letting it out, when burning over his land. The three mentioned as clearing, went to the North of the fire and headed it off. March 9 While E. still wrestled with the remains of the old kitchen & John [Shorter] assisted by Mr. Nix & John Settle performed the ceremony known as "hog killing." .. . Home to find Petie [Elizabeth] worn & haggard cranking the churn with her teeth set, after 3 hours at hard labor the butter did not come. March 11 Zeb MacAbee hired on at $32.00 per month .. . �Farmer Jim 209 March 13 Registered sow & boar from Mr. McCoughlin arrived. Boar got out at Biltmore but Porter [MacAbee] who was "in for a ride" saw it & it was captured. March 16 Mr. Sinclair drilled 9 1/4 bu. [of] oats in bottom . . . Raspberries, gooseberries & currants planted. March 21 Wild orgy of house cleaning. The army posted all over the house & every five minutes stage coach & bustle in new location. Hay loft & upper orchard only refuges. April 11 Our own ham for supper & it was delicious. April 14 to church 1 hr. late but still heard 35 minutes of ghastliness. Wrote article "Is Peace Possible?" April 15 The pet polished my article. Dispatched article to New Republic. April 20 Article returned by New Republic. While Jim labored over this article it was beginning to look as though the Allies were going to win after all. He took one more crack at trying to resolve the issue of war. Although the editors of The New Republic chose not to publish it, a copy remains in the family archives. The article reveals not only what he thought on this issue, but also how he approached all such problems. Is Permanent Peace Possible? Permanent peace in the world is possible. The one condition of our attaining it is that we refuse to be denied i t . . . Wishing and hoping will not bring this to pass. It will be more difficult of accomplishment than the defeat of Germany. So long as the nations of the world have sovereign and supposedly equal power, there is bound to be war. Each nation is a law unto itself. Each nation, therefore, will have recourse to arms when it considers the grievance or the prize sufficient. At any time this may bring on a general war. No sovereign nation could brook interference on a point of national honor or national aggrandizement. To each nation its own government is the ultimate and highest authority. We shall have in the world, then, several highest and ultimate authorities. Any one who knows anything at all of human affairs realizes that sooner or later these ultimate authorities are bound to clash. Nothing can prevent future wars if we adhere to this old basis. No league of nations would ensure peace—for it is merely a league of equal nations and no ultimate and mobile authority has been created. The only possible basis of permanent peace is to have one ultimate and highest seat of authority; and this must be a mobile authority, created, freely granted, and controlled by the people of the nations themselves. This would insure permanent peace. �210 We Plow God's Fields Such a plan can be actualized by an international parliament or congress. The people of each nation would elect representatives . . . The number of representatives might be proportionate to the number of literate voters in the various countries. The capital of the world would be situated at the Hague or Constantinople or any such satisfactory place. Let me call to mind that the distance in days travel in 1775 was longer between Boston and New York than it is now between New York and London; San Francisco is capable of closer communication with Constantinople than Charleston then was with Philadelphia. The details of such a plan present no insurmountable difficulties and it is our one and only hope. There is no use deluding ourselves, or building our structure on 19th Century hopes. Unless we, the people of the world, voluntarily create a representative international authority, we are fighting in vain.8 The war was much more than an intellectual puzzle for Jim. He and his wife had spent a considerable part of their lives in Germany, France and England, and they wondered often about their friends remaining there. Nathan McClure enlisted in the Army, and Ambrose Cramer served in the Navy and as a French translator and administrator overseas. Jim himself was called up by the draft, but when he reported for his physical, he had such a bad case of poison ivy that they flunked him.9 In spite of these disappointments Jim kept working steadily on the farm and in the community. April 30 1st meeting [of the] Hickory Nut Gap Farm Co ... Mr. Davidson, Mr. Sinclair, & John Shorter assembled in my study & I outlined the plan . . . [This was a plan to allow the farm workers to share in farm profits. It was later given up because profits just did not materialize.] (Elizabeth) May 5 Bearwallow Baptist Church "Choir is all tore up." Old man wanted to "Get shut" of his collection money. Grand revival hymns! Cricket [Jim] referred to as "Brother McClure." Hateful turkeys are hatching. (Jim) May 10 —rounding up sow that got out . . . a Mr. Williams desired a night's lodging for his party, appearing about 9:30 & was hesitatingly refused. May 12 ... 58 minute service on "Unbelief & Everlasting Torture." May 17 Went to meet Hetty [Stuart] & Grace [Cramer, wife of Ambrose] both delighted with country. Took them over Beaucatcher [Mountain] . . . Quite impressed with place and views . . . May 18 Mr. Dalton's, mail carrier's, first trip in Ford—displacing mule. May 19 another ghastly sermon. May 20 Gracy ploughed. Hetty churned. �Farmer Jim 211 May 21 Africa [a sow] brought 6 pigs. May 22 Africa lost 2 pigs—one strayed another crushed. To Asheville . .. bearing John Settle on his matrimonial errand. After errands were taken by Hetty & Grace to lunch at Grove Park. Home via Fletcher . . . Ran into mud on Cane Creek Road & girls much agitated by skidding. May 24 graphophone moonlight party . . . May 27 Motored & climbed to top of Chimney Rock . .. picked 10 qts. of strawberries. May 29 Canning bee lasted 'till 9:30 p.m. —owing to misfortunes — spinach & chard & beets canned. May 31 ... bull calf . . . was down. We worked in Herculean manner all morning—dosing him with whiskey . . . the cow . .. died. June 2 Anna [Esther's mother] arrived & took Eleazer [a young household helper who was John's niece] dissolved in tears home to hoe corn—conference with Anna lasted until we had to rush for the mules to go to Bear Wallow Church—tires being flat. June 9 At 1 a.m. started to rain & up again & with lantern got Australia [another sow] & offspring into dynamite crib [for shelter]. June 15 Sent in 24 quarts [of] cherries & got 12 1/2 qts. = $3.00 & for 5 doz eggs $1.75. Brought car back with a bill of $73.00. June 17 anointed turkeys with oil Petie saved a chicken by warming on the hot water bag. June 19 Supper at [the] Bandanna Tea Room & to a screaming movie "A Dog's Life" Charlie Chaplin— Forgot the tires at the movie & started for Mrs. Heywoods 7-9 tea at 8:45 p.m. Burned up the road till puncture came—finally arrived at Mrs. Heywoods about 9:20. The resources of good health gave Jim the freedom not only to push along his plans for the farm, but also to begin tentatively to act on behalf of his community. He and Elizabeth organized a local chapter of the Red Cross before the Germans surrendered. Since the war still seemed far away it was a little difficult to raise money for the Red Cross in such a poor area, so a fair was organized in the Bat Cave section, which was over the mountain from the inn. Jim always loved a big community get together, and threw himself into this Red Cross Fourth of July affair with wonderful enthusiasm. On July 3rd, the Red Cross supplies of 300 pounds of ice and 15 gallons of ice cream arrived at Hickory Nut Gap at 5 p.m. and were transferred to a wagon. Mr. Davidson, farm manager, Mr. Sinclair and John Shorter started at once for the Esmerelda �212 We Plow God's Fields Inn, some ten miles over the mountain in Bat Cave, causing great excitement along the route. Next day Jim started at 8 a.m. with the Pet, household helpers Mary and Pete, and Croaker [or Croak, a farm worker] on the running board, bringing more supplies. A huge crowd bought lemonade, cider, ice cream, cake, cookies, apples, peaches and buttermilk, and the successful event cleared $70.00. Not even a puncture on the return trip could dim the joy of the participants. Jim discovered early on that he, like his father, had a knack for raising money for a worthy cause. He sold Liberty Bonds throughout Fairview, which took him inside the homes of many of his neighbors. Once the neighbors found out that Jim was a preacher, and an educated one at that, he began to receive invitations "to bring the message" to several of the local Baptist congregations. Jim relished the idea, and made use of the opportunity the rest of his life to preach his gospel of progress. The Sunday after the Red Cross picnic he was invited by the Bearwallow Baptist Church. He wanned up his neighbors that day by describing the old mountain circuit riders, who were called not to a particular church but to a community. "Don't just help out the saved among you, but go out and minister to everyone in the community," he told them. We can not only help the poor, but we must remove poverty. We must so build up our soils, & breed up our stock so that we remove poverty . . . Only when we got to thinking it was Christ's work to prevent boys & girls from getting liquor did we start the liquor business] on the toboggan. There are two choices before us—-the life of selfishness or the life of service. The life of selfishness dries up the sources of vitality of the comm[unity]: it stunts development & paralyzes the comm[unity]The life of service liberates. If you live among men as one who serveth you will find that you are setting free the life of the community & creating the life of God in other men. "He who loseth his life shall find it."10 The title of this sermon was "The Sin of Aachan." Jim McClure felt it was one of his most popular, and he reworked it many times for different churches. The text was from Joshua, the sixth and seventh chapters, which deal with the battle of Jericho. The walls of Jericho had just fallen, and the city was on the verge of conquest by the Jewish nation. Yahweh ordered the city destroyed, but would condone no looting in order to maintain the religious purity of the people. " . . . [K]eep yourselves from the things devoted to destruction ..." lest trouble be brought down on the camp of Israel. But Aachen was tempted by all the wealth he discovered in Jericho, as well he might after having spent his entire life in the desert. He was eventually caught, but not before the morale of the Jewish camp was poisoned by his selfish act. It is an anecdote perfectly suited to Jim's notion of social sin. Jim McClure wanted to introduce a new concept of sin into the mountains. The old idea he called "a selfish view of sin." Many country preachers continu- �Farmer Jim 213 ally hammered on the idea that specific acts, such as swearing or drinking, no matter how secretly performed, would be discovered at the judgement day by the Lord God Almighty. Jim wanted people to see that drinking and swearing, and a whole multitude of other selfish acts, had an immediate impact. Your friends, neighbors and relations all were demoralized by your sin. Moral weakness would be caught like the influenza, and passed about the community. The truth about sin, as Brother McClure told it, was that selfishness endangered the strength of the entire community. He liked to tell the story of an American soldier in France who drank up the entire ration of water for his company, bringing down on himself the hatred and derision of his fellows. "They knew his breach of discipline endangered their lives. ..." Sin was not simply a mark in the "Black Book on high." "Think of yourself as owing, not owning, all you have . . . Much of what you have [is in] trust... If land . . . think of generations to come and build it up." When one realized the debt owed to those who came before, one also understands that the conduct of one's present life will leave a legacy for future generations. Jim then exhorted the members of the congregation to serve one another, in honor of the past and to prepare for the future. "Believing does not mean anything unless put into action." Jim argued that the instinct to serve one's friends and neighbors emanated from the Holy Spirit, and to dam it up, to leave it unfulfilled, would block off the source of true satisfaction and happiness. Service, in Jim's scheme, covered a broad range of helpful activities, from building pure water systems to keeping scrub bulls from siring new stock. A man pursued God's purposes when he worked to eliminate the breeding areas for typhoid fever, built better schools and roads, and brought electricity into the community. On the practical side, Jim's parents were coming to visit soon and the old inn must be made ready. Aug. 1 The cursed pigs are rooting up the whole lawn. Aug. 10 Great Cleaning up—barns, barnyard & house in preparation for coming of Mother & Father [McClure]. Aug. 12 Passing thru Biltmore with enormous load—found Pete & Mary with 4 nieces and nephews stranded. Somehow packed them in. Aug. 16 Nathan & Arch arrive. Nathan looking very fine in his new [Army] uniform. [They were soon followed by Dr. and Mrs. McClure] (Elizabeth) Aug. 18 All went to church & heard the dreary Dr. Loache preach his best effort. Dr. McClure requested to preach in the evening . . . Dr. preached to quite a little gathering. (Elizabeth) Aug. 19 Dr. & Mrs. McClure leave. Felt sad to have them go. Aug. 24 Cow choked on an apple. �214 We Plow God's Fields (Elizabeth) Aug. 25 Nearly driven to distraction & boredom by the terrible effort of Dr. Loache; a most unchristian man! Resolved not to attend any longer. Sept. 11 ... threshed 46 1/2 bu. [of] wheat, 15 rye, 18 oats & 1 barley. Sept. 13 Sent wheat to Alexander's mill & they said it was the best wheat they had had brought in. Sept. 14 — 12 a.m. to 1 a.m. I arose & made a sally after hunters. Sept. 18 molasses being made, Fin [Sinclair], John Shorter & Foy Wall at the evaporator, John Settle with Red & Brown hauling cane—& W. B. Morgan, Croak & Zeb [MacAbee] stripping & cutting cane. Sept. 19 Molasses started at [the] crack of dawn. By noon [the] cane was stripped & cut and 50 gal. was made by 8 p.m. (Elizabeth) Sept. 23 Black Monday! Eleven hands failed to appear that were due to pick apples. Poor Cricket deeply gloomy. Esther & lola depart for the circus via very late mail man . . . The poor coloreds return in the evening— unable to get into the circus! Oct. 8 Finished picking apples—totalling 125 bbls. [Barrels] . . . Started [grain] dryer this day & it did twice catch on fire & we are feeling sullen at the Demonstrating agents for getting us into it. Oct. 9 Influenza 'a raging . . . Oct. 13 Rumor that Germany has unconditionally surrendered. Oct. 19 — . . . made chairman [of the] Transportation Local Influenza Committee — 2000 cases in Asheville. Oct. 25 In bed all day to prevent sore throat developing . . . The Pet read me the sinister, bloodcurdling, terrifying & fearful Dracula. Oct. 27 Still housed with sore throat... spent the day reading with the Pet, writing & swatting flies . . . swatted 61 in dining room & study, 16 in pink room, 54 in pantry & over 700 in kitchen. Nov. 1 —Evening enlivened by a great rat hunt-finally John & I secured the burly victim . . . Nov. 2 Just before noon George Sherrill appeared, out of his head. I put him to work in my overalls & jumper, but he soon left for other parts leaving his coat behind & promising automobiles to us all—stating he had invented a steel cat to catch rats. Nov. 11 PEACE. �Farmer Jim 215 The Great War finally ended in the fall of 1918, or rather the fighting paused for twenty years, resuming in 1939. In countless ways the world was never quite the same again. When the armistice was signed in November 1918, Jim could feel the country relax. Self-discipline and sacrifice dissipated, and the American people hungered for a "return to normalcy." The stage was set for the frenetic and worldly Roaring Twenties. Jim was left wondering why the same people who were willing to sacrifice even their lives for victory over the Germans had little interest in working for peace. "Is Permanent Peace Possible?" he asked again, and then watched as even Wilson's much less radical idea of a League of Nations was rejected by his countrymen. Jim McClure hoped he could inspire the people in his area to maintain the sense of self-sacrifice and what he called the "thrill of common purpose" that the nation had developed while fighting the Central Powers, and re-direct the energy to fighting poverty. In the little churches he spoke of the satisfactions that most Americans felt enduring the privations of the home front. "Soldiers of Christ arise . . . Put money into community purposes as you did into $50.00 Bonds— War [wants] to tear down— Get . . . at [the] idea of building up."11 These were noble ideas. Jim McClure would put them into action when he founded the Farmers Federation, but for most Americans, the Roaring Twenties were anything but an era of self-sacrifice. He became a different preacher than he had been in Iron River. Up there, he had composed weighty messages more likely to impress his professors than his parishioners. In North Carolina, his delivery became more extemporaneous, his sermon notes more sketchy. He included humorous anecdotes that he collected from his friends, little stories that perked up his listeners and helped to lighten the message. It was a step away from his somber Calvinist tradition, a step toward the lively style of the mountain preacher, and it gave his sermons the impact needed to move people. Certainly the lives of Jim and Elizabeth McClure had been changed since the beginning of the Great War. Four years before, the two of them were rather distant acquaintances whose ambitions were carrying them in two different directions: she into the French artistic circles and he into the social ministry of the Presbyterian Church. Now they were married and living on the side of a mountain in the midst of the Southern Appalachians. In August 1918, Elizabeth and Jim learned something wonderful and become aware that their life together might mean more even than the challenges of their household and their mutual friendship and respect. After bustling the often-present Aunties off on the train, they visited their doctor, "... who confirmed our judgement and forbade motoring." Two weeks later Elizabeth broke the news to Wiggy. Now then for some thrilling news which is to be a secret dear darling until the end of October anyway. We are expecting a small McClure about the middle of March. Can you imagine me mere de famille! I can't!!! Anyway I am enormously well—I have no disagreeable symptoms that apparently people �216 We Plow God's Fields usually have & really I can't believe anything is going on at all. However the doctor who is a very excellent one says that everything is very normal & I look just as I did 3 months ago so its hard to believe at all, at all. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Martha Clarke, August 26, 1918) She held out another few weeks before sending the word northward, charging Hetty to strict confidentiality. "This is for your special private ear—how would you like being Aunt to a little new McClure—about the middle of next March? Do you suppose it will preach or paint? I already have grave fears as to its future." (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet Stuart, September 13, 1918) Life at Hickory Nut Gap during the following fall and winter revolved about the expectations of the new arrival. Elizabeth's movements, according to the custom of women of her station in that day, were severely circumscribed, but the pace of life at the farm went on. Nov. 15 —Mr. & Mrs. Cramer come. Nov. 18 — . . . Mr. Cramer and I went hunting . .. getting 9 quail a.m. & 4 in p.m. Dec. 12 [replanting of boxwoods in front of the house] . . . all hands going without lunch & getting 8 of 9 to our place after dark where we unloaded aided by the famous efforts of Zeb [MacAbee] . . . The Pet thrilled. Dec. 20 Brought Alec Huntley back from Asheville where he had sold his potatoes for $1.00 per bu. I should think the fanners would quit. Dec. 23 The Pet working hard on Santa Claus suit. Dec. 24 ... A roaring morning, getting Xmas presents, trees etc., seeing about George Sherrill & with much embarrassment even purchasing nighties for my Pet. Dec. 25 Santa Claus appeared and gave presents to those assembled-to wit Ben & Maggie Owenby & their 3 offspring, Christine, Gertrude & Aimer, Baxter & Minnie Owenby & their offspring Geneva & Otis, Katy Sinclair & Porter & Homer, Belle McAbee & Hattie Pearl, Porter & Annie May . . . Ice Cream & cake served, Cricket superb as Santy—great delight amongst crowd, [the last addition by Elizabeth.] With nearly the whole farm crowd on hand for a Christmas celebration that was to become a tradition at Hickory Nut Gap, one can see what a cast of characters was around to educate Jim and his wife, to show them how life was led back in the mountains of Western North Carolina. During these years, Jim McClure learned what the mountain family battled against. His education was a practical one; the economics and sociology involved the lives of real people in the community as well as on the farm. He learned how enduring and tough �Farmer Jim 217 these people were, and he discovered endearing traits as well: the earthy humor, patience and religious faith that made them survivors. He also discovered what happens when a society can afford only the most meager of schools, and how ignorance can become an accepted part of the culture. Not all the mountain men and women were ignorant, or humorous, or religious, or even welcoming to a stranger. Some were utterly poor, and others relatively prosperous. But Jim knew, having grown up where he did, that the economic life in Fairview, and elsewhere in the region, lagged well behind the rest of the country. He had an idea that if the people could make a little money, the spiritual reservoir that lay backed up in the mountains could be unleashed and great works could be accomplished. As the winter progressed Elizabeth, who had to curtail her usual activities, took on the project of copying a picture of Jim's Grandmother Dixon. Jim rather irreverently commented in the diary, on the completion of the portrait, that she had succeeded in "making a decent looking old lady of her ..." (January 9, 1919). He continued to read and ponder such subjects as the future of Christianity, democracy and the United States. The country did seem to be in the grip of a very disagreeable judgement of some kind, whether demonic or divine, in the form of an influenza epidemic. Death was not at all an uncommon result of the virus, and so when it swept up into the coves of the mountains, Jim wanted to do all he could to protect Elizabeth. John Shorter fell ill, and he was immediately quarantined in his home. By the end of January, the strain of the winter, the flu, and the ennui of pregnancy finally overrode all objections, and the two of them decided to move into Asheville for a few days. "Both feeling somewhat drab & determined to have a spree at the Manor—started for Asheville ..." (January 25, 1919). Even though "Fear of the 'flu' kept us from church" (January 26, 1919), they were stimulated nonetheless by their new surroundings and companions. Elizabeth notes in the diary that "Cricket talks late with various lobby loafers" (January, 1919). The interlude at the Manor helped to dispel for a time the gloom of winter, but the diary reveals that tempers may have been short on through February. Feb. 6— . . . selected all chickens for execution & then they all got out.. . Feb. 16—Went to Bear Wallow . . . to preach on Zaccheus & found no one there . . . Feb. 21—Esther sent up word that she was sick & feared it was the flu ... her temp . . . was only 101°-but sloshed down to Fairview—not a light anywhere—A roused the Dr. who prescribed in a flannel night shirt. [This was Dr. Cicero McCracken, who took faithful care of the sick of Fairview for many years.] Feb. 24 Esther in a rage at finding her dishes washed separate from the others in the Old Kitchen because of the "flu"—[She] departs . . . John depressed. Petie incensed. �218 We Plow God's Fields March followed February, and with it came a heightened sense of expectation. Elizabeth's parents arrived just before the presumed time of arrival, and close on their heels, "Wiggy" appeared to take command. The latter had retained for Jim a somewhat mythical existence up until the moment she appeared in the flesh. All in all, Jim fared rather poorly in these last days, quite overwhelmed not only by his role as a prospective father, but also by the amount of entertainment required by all the guests. The Cramer's train arrived on March the tenth, and Elizabeth notes in her diary that "After lunch rush to station to meet Father and Mother who appeared just as we were pulling up" (March 10). Elizabeth and Jim, the Cramers including their son Corwith, who was about thirteen, and Martha Clarke (Wiggy) were all waiting together for the baby at the Grove Park Inn, Asheville's finest resort hotel. The waiting usually took the form of golf, for those so inclined, and for three days Jim tensely entertained his father-in-law and young Corwith on the hotel course. On March the 18th, Jim's patience wore thin. "After leaving Azalea I drove fast & furiously over the rough roads— the strain of paying for 3 rooms being too much . . . dined at the G. P. Inn & bored to death by the movies" (March 18). Late the next night, however, all was different; the long wait was about to end. "The dear Pet soon after lights were out finding signs multiplying we decided to move to the hospital. Miss Clarke was summoned . . . Fetching 3 dishes of ice cream & with Miss Clarke's birthday cake we had a fine party. [It was] a most gorgeous moonlight night so we determined on a joy ride part way up Sunset [Mountain] before interning in the hospital at about 12:30 a.m." (March 19). The exact role of the moon in such cases is, shall it be said, mysterious. But by the next morning, its power had worked a magic, and the redoubtable Dr. Charles Millender delivered a fine baby boy, James Gore King McClure, III. It was March 20, 1919. He was tucked away in the bathroom because the baby ward was befouled by influenza. For the young minister, not really so young anymore, the birth of the first child confirmed, as it always does, the miraculous nature of life itself. For a man who had fought through volumes of theology, the birth of his son was a supremely religious moment. He fell in love with Elizabeth all over again, as they both bathed in the joy of the birth of James Gore King McClure, HE. The day after, Jim wrote, "The Pet progressing famously & looking as if she was at a party. Her color was good as ever & she looked most beautiful" (March 21). Two days later, he wrote: "... Took Miss Clarke up Sunset—Then to see the dear Pet looking perfectly beautiful..." (March 23). The baby boy was given his father's name, a name that went back to grandfather Archibald's near death on shipboard years ago. Born with the finest of Presbyterian heritages, this child would grow up to be as stubbornly principled as his Covenanter ancestors. But as a baby, all of that history was less important than the motherly attentions that surrounded him. Even his imposing name was temporarily discarded, and the child became known simply as �Farmer Jim 219 "Punie." Weights and measurements were important tools for child-rearing in that day, and by all accounts young James grew slowly. Mother and child remained in the hospital for nearly a full month. Elizabeth had not been allowed to even sit up for nine days. Four days after that, she was carefully lowered into a wheelchair for her first venture away from the bed. Jim always admitted that he belonged to the "slow and easy" school of childbirth, a remarkable contrast to the way children were born amongst the tenants on his farm. Jim was busy entertaining his in-laws and supervising work at the farm, but he made daily visits to the hospital, bringing stories to entertain Elizabeth. There was her young half-brother, Corwith, who was depressed by his freckles, and unmercifully teased by Jim about his interest in the young ladies at the Grove Park Inn. On the day after the baby's birth new cattle arrived at the Biltmore Station and he drove the Cramers over to see them, finding "Croak attached by a long rope to the biggest cow & being yanked hither and thither ..." (March 21). Mr. Cramer was always greatly interested in the farm. With these cows Jim created probably the first registered herd of Herefords in Western North Carolina, which he hoped might prove an encouragement to purebred breeding in the region. Ever since his days in Texas he had yearned to raise cattle, and to raise them right. Yet, despite his farm work and the birth of a son, and even though he was slowly sinking his roots into his adopted region, Jim McClure was still unsettled in the spring of 1919 about his own future. By now, Jim was well and able to cope with a full work day again. Moreover, the war was over and with it went, to Jim's way of thinking, the justification for pouring his efforts into farming. James Davidson had returned to take up his post as manager, and the place could be safely left in his capable hands. It was time, then, for Jim to pursue his goals as a minister. He began scanning for possibilities. Just prior to the armistice, he considered working with the YMCA in Europe, in a war-related capacity. He had informed the powers of the Presbyterian Church that he was looking for a position, and with Elizabeth still in the hospital he made a dart up north to inquire about the position of minister at the Lafayette Square Presbyterian Church in Baltimore. While there, he wrote his minister brother Arch about the trip, who replied: Your letter from Baltimore quite took me by surprise. I didn't know you really had a line on Baltimore —but am awfully glad you have. It will be great to have you back preaching again. Would you take a church this Spring or are you going to wait until fall? . .. Any church that hasn't sense enough to give [you] a call . .. must be made up of a set of dominoes. It's lucky for me that my congo can't hear you or they would fire me immediately & call you. (Arch McClure to James G. K. McClure, Jr., April 15, 1919) Jim preached twice at this church, but felt as if his "reception was lukewarm at best." " . . . Not a sign of cordiality before & but 3 handshakes after [the] service. Ibid in the evening—about 35 out. .. ,"12 �220 We Plow God's Fields Jamie McClure and his father's Hereford bull, "Foundation. So he returned home again and spent another summer as a farmer. He threw himself once more into a bond drive, as vice chairman for Fairview township, selling Victory Bonds to help finish paying for a war already won. In two weeks, he turned in $10,000 from this rural district. As a founder of the Fairview Community Club, Jim worked hard to sell shares to bring telephone service to Fairview. He had a definite talent for talking people out of their money when the cause was right: by midsummer local telephone service became a very real possibility, with forty-nine people taking stock. Along with Victory Bonds and telephones, Jim, began organizing another effort that in retrospect stands out as a completely new beginning, not only for those who benefitted personally, but also for Jim himself. Clearly, the momentous nature of this occasion was not felt by either Jim or the others. He notes in his diary, in matter-of-fact style, that on April 19, 1919, he " . . . went out to [a] meeting at Fairview to organize farmers. Many women present, when I had thought it was to be entirely men. After much hot airing from women, decided to organize...." Elizabeth adds the " . . . following officers were elected. Cricket, Pres., S. J. Ashworth, vice-Pres, Luther Clay Sec." The Fairview Federation of Farmers was launched! By May third, the group was officially organized and under way. Jim McClure always believed that the best way to fathom the divine purposes of the Creator was one step at a time. The first step of the Farmers Federation was halting and tentative, but in time, in a short time, it would change forever the opportunities for farmers in Western North Carolina. The �Farmer Jim 221 remainder of the summer and fall, he kept busy with the wide variety of activities that came his way. All the while he must have been wondering what form, what direction, his life was to take. Such a proposition is difficult enough for a young man, but Jim McClure was well into his thirties, with growing responsibilities, and as yet his dreams to spread the Social Gospel remained unfulfilled. But Hickory Nut Gap was certainly an enviable location to sort through such doubts, especially with a new son, a steady stream of visiting Mends and relations, and a wife as lovely as Elizabeth. Among the visitors were the Misses Skinner, come to view their darling niece's new son. In their long white linen summer dresses, they were determined figures on the porch or in the house. There was soon a confrontation with Wiggy, who had been firmly running the show since her arrival. Amidst the ups and downs of command between the three powers, little Jamie continued to thrive and Jim was barely able to find enough time to prepare a sermon to be given at the Asheville School for Boys. The Reverend James G. K. McClure, of Fairview, preached to the Graduating Class on Sunday, May 25th. His sermon, based on the text, "What seest Thou?" was a strong, forceful appeal... He analyzed the attitudes of different people—those who spurn the vision entirely, those who fail to see it, and those who are willing to act on it—and impressed the School with a sense of individual duty.1-' But the rivalry between the visitors must have told on him. Elizabeth noted on June 23: "Cricket with his old trouble again." However he was soon well and back in the fray. June 28— . . . Great washing of Rex & Bowser [their dogs] & Lysoling porch to rid us of plague fleas . . . June 29 — to a Singing Convention. Great gathering of mountaineers. July 1—To town at 7:30 with 20 bu. potatoes & Miss C[larke] .. . Grove Park which was to have taken 10 bu. I unloaded etc. & 2nd Steward saw me & in a 2nd class way told me he wouldn't take them, as he had waited all preceding day for them, etc. and I had promised [he said] to bring them in day before. July 21—A.M. to 0. F. Settles—whole sprightly family on deck Big talk with 0. F. & his mother—Lola studying Sunday School lesson on porch. Mr. O. F. Settles lived at the head of the Bud Owenby Creek in a "holler" between Tater Knob and the shoulder of Little Ksgah Mountain. Jim and Elizabeth carried little Jamie to see the family. Perhaps Jim was hoping to arrange a trade with Mr. Settles, which was later completed, giving the Settles family some of Jim's land on the highway in exchange for the Settles' land that �222 We Plow God's Fields adjoined the main farm. Jim asked Mr. Settles if he ever found his location lonely. Mr. Settles replied that he liked it "cause if anybody comes to see me I know they really want to see me, or they want somethin'" (July 21). This visit may have been the beginning of the long connection between the McClures and the Settles. Clinard Settles worked for Jim and Elizabeth and their children from the time he was fourteen until his death sixty-eight years later. Other members of the family, John Scott, Dorothy, McKinley, and Lola, were all faithful helpers at various times. In August the McClure family came together for the important Presbyterian rite of baptizing James Gore King McClure, III. What a delight it must have been for Jim to have his parents and his brother Arch come for a good visit. It seems likely that Jim and his father and minister brother had many discussions of Jim's possible future. Jamie III was properly baptized in the Presbyterian way by his grandfather, using water he had brought from the River Jordan, sprinkled from a small silver christening cup that had been used for the baptisms of all three James McClures. The senior McClures and Arch returned home, and Jim and Elizabeth prepared to interrupt their life in the Southern Appalachians with an excursion to Vermont and Lake Forest, which would include time for Jim to survey the opportunities for returning to the ministry. If the world beyond Western North Carolina wanted to make a claim on them, this long vacation would be its last chance to make a pitch. The preparations for this trip, with baby, were formidable. A black travelling nurse, Effie Thomas, was hired. The day of departure, September third, was a Furious morning by all—John taking in early load of trunks—all hands finally getting packed into the 2nd load . . . & off for Biltmore, ice box and all. We swarmed onto the train, about eight. . . assistants helping us with our thousands of bundles—then commenced a journey unparalleled in crowdedness. The ice box, Puny, the Pet, myself & some 16 bags & boxes were cramped into the drawing room—The Pet banging her head whenever she turned around & Miss C. & Effie forcing their way in & out constantly. . . . (diary. September 3) The little party arrived safely next morning in New York to spend two days. Elizabeth and Jim ate lobster and blue fish only to find Puny "very loud with colic" when they returned to their hotel room. Next day there was "a permanent for the Pet" and dining and dancing at Churchill's on Broadway, amidst many street speeches from striking actors. Then they joined battle again to get the luggage on board the train for Manchester, where they were welcomed by the indomitable Aunties and Ambrose and his wife Gracie. Autumn in the Green Mountains! They remained on into October, and apparently Jim, "Bowser" (Ambrose), and Dumont agreed that the finest vantage point from which to enjoy the colors was out on the golf course. Jim and Elizabeth slipped away for several little day trips together, leaving Puny with Effie. Jim preached two sermons, and made one noteworthy trip down to Wil- �Farmer Jim 223 liamstown, Massachusetts. There a cousin of Elizabeth's, Parmalee Prentice, had single-mindedly set out to study the secrets of improving the genetics of plants and animals. Mount Hope Farm, because of the work of Mr. Prentice, became an agricultural magnet for progressive farm leaders, and although Jim did not yet know it, that was what he was about to become. He was thrilled enough with the work going on at Mount Hope in 1919, noting the "Painstaking attempt to improve existing stocks of poultry, potatoes, corn, [&] small grains "14 Church work, not agriculture, still seemed to hold out the greatest prospect of service for him. In the midst of the Vermont vacation he and Elizabeth went to New York. A large and prestigious Presbyterian church on Fifth Avenue was looking for a minister, and Jim had been asked to a dinner in Englewood, New Jersey, where the search committee from New York City could look him over unobtrusively. He and Elizabeth left Vermont on October the tenth. Elizabeth described the next morning in New York: Cricket spent morning cooped up in his chamber .. . writing prayer & sermon . . . Petie makes frantic effort to buy hat. Decides on one chez Mme Florette. Consults time. Late!! Frantic rush to meet Cricket in front of Scribners. Cricket denounces hat!! Frantic rush back to Mme Florette's. Old straw resumed. Great Flurry. Terrible crush in tube owing to ferry boat strike. Missed Englewood train. Despair! Petie very low. Catch next train & arrived only 12 min. late. Met by Powersy [their host] .. . much worried as to the need of dressing for supper. Decided in the negative. Sharply inspected during meal. . . The evening reasonably successful but extremely trying.15 The next day they attended the morning service at the Englewood church, and in the afternoon Jim returned to New York to speak at the Vesper Service. Elizabeth described the occasion: " . . . Slim congregation. Cricket a 'false note' in the 'well valeted church.' Refused to wear a gown. Scarcely probable that he was liked. He jarred them & was anything but soothing in his discourse "16 Their guide to the church, an enthusiastic gentleman, did gymnastics later in the anteroom on the red carpet to "get his blood up." Jim's blood was already up. He did not shrink from preaching a fiery message of social responsibility to these wealthy Presbyterians. Later he compared this church to a beautifully carved chest that was empty inside. "Religion is so well valeted . . . [there] that the real thing is suppressed. Elder came to me & told me aft[er the] service [that] they tried to make a quiet, beautiful vesper service—(I disturbed them, made them uneasy—they hated it, it offended them, seemed in bad taste.) . . . Everything in such good form in [this church] & good form so worshipped that . . . good form for good form's sake is committed."17 Following the vesper service in New York, Elizabeth and Jim went by train to Passaic, New Jersey, where Jim preached at the evening service of the First Presbyterian Church. The printed program welcomed Jim to the pulpit. "He is �224 We Plow God's Fields a son of Dr. McClure, the President of McCormick Seminary and it is hoped our people will make the effort to come out and hear this message." His sermon was titled, "Service: I am among you as one who serveth."18 In the diary, Elizabeth again tersely writes of Jim's reception there: "Cricket again made a scene at the Passaic Church about wearing the gown. [He] preached a thrilling sermon on service. Powersy muttering to himself that 'he had *em all stirred up.' Petie proud . . . No idea at all what impression we made."19 The next morning, Jim apparently felt little need to exercise restraint, and Elizabeth chides him a little in their diary (Oct. 14): "Cricket a bit bold & loud at breakfast— . . . ruined his chances by announcing at breakfast that he had once been thought to have had a brain lesion! In New York, he talked over an Englewood proposal as well as the possibility of being secretary of the Yale-inChina mission."20 The next day, after a very difficult excursion into the strongholds of comfortable Christianity, they rode the train back to Vermont to be reunited with their son. From Vermont, Jim and his entourage travelled westward to Lake Forest. The journey was full of personal possibilities for Jim. He was seeking his own "highest and best use" in the battle to make the world conform to his specifications for the Kingdom of God. Somehow, though, agriculture stayed foremost in Jim's mind. In Chicago, he visited the stockyards and was given a tour by Louis Swift, one of the chief buyers for the Swift family's meat company. He rode on horseback through the 20,000 head that were being held ready for slaughter and found himself talking over agricultural possibilities with men he knew to be knowledgeable in the field.21 He also searched around for a waterpowered electric generator to set up at Hickory Nut Gap and electrify his home and farm. That may have been the pretext for him to go to Detroit to visit Henry Ford. But clearly, he went also to test out on the great inventor a vision for a mission to the Southern mountaineers. He wrote in his diary: Nov. 6— . . . started for Dearborn for 11:30 appointment . . . Ford took me through [the] tractor plant, showed me water wheels & said he would send for, test & send me [a] Pelton wheel—said my scheme for Mt. farmers was the best scheme he had brought to him—To lunch with him . . . table of about 12 ... Very stimulating clean cut, capable idealists . . . Then sent around in a Ford to Blast Furnace, Body plant [old Eagle plant] & motor works where 3500 per day are being turned out & 240,000 behind in delivery. The rest of his time in the Chicago area revolved around pleasant social occasions, particularly the pleasures of showing off his new son to Hetty and Doug Stuart and other family members and Mends. There were "big Powwows" with Doug and Mr. and Mrs. Cramer on the church and religion. On one late evening of talk, "Mr. C. making stealthy trips to [the] dining room or den & returning more loquacious each time."22 The day before he and Elizabeth were to return home, he received a job offer that momentarily unbalanced him. �Farmer Jim 225 "To town at 10:30 much messed up by offer of job for 3 mos. to convert Presbyterian Churches of Chicago to social Gfospel] & no chance to speak of it to the Pet... Decided to turn down offer."23 That night at dinner with his parents, Jim's father sensed his son's agitation, and after he and his wife said their final good byes, he sat down to pen a special letter of encouragement to him. My dear boy: I did not say anything special to you as you left the house tonight. Let me now say that I love you very much, I am happy in you, I believe your life is telling and will tell for great good in the world. I rejoice in your marriage and I feel quite sure that you are doing right in starting back to your home. Mother and I are grateful to God that we could have had you and Elizabeth and the baby boy with us so much as we have had; and we rejoice that on this special night the gathering about the table had so many of our dear ones . . . Your mother is no usual woman. She has made a very sweet and blessed home for us—these beautiful years. May you get back to a restful condition of heart and be ennobled to meet your duties and responsibilities in a brave, patient and sustained way. . . . There is a very, very great work to be done in our world for God, and only God's grace can be sufficient for us! Tenderly, Father (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to James G. K. McClure, Jr., November, 1919) The next morning, Jim, Elizabeth, Puny, Effie and the well-travelled ice box were all hustled to the Chicago train station and "Seen off with a rush by the Aunties." Their journey was slowed by a railroad strike, but two days later they all "Reached Asheville about noon . . . John came for us ... & a beautiful drive home."24 Hickory Nut Gap, after two and a half months, was both beautiful and— most importantly now—home. Their two dogs came barking out to greet them as the familiar putter of the Honeymoon Hudson rounded the curves up the mountain. For two and a half months they had been singing the praises of their mountain country, telling tales about the local people, and describing the projects begun on the farm and house. That sort of conversation has a way of building loyalty, and they had surely convinced themselves, if no one else, that Western North Carolina was now their home. But what to do? Did Jim really want to spend the rest of his life puttering about the farm? What was to become of his career in the ministry? Could he be so bold as to direct his energies outside of the church into a farmers' federation? All of these questions ran about in his head that fall, as did the very basic question of how to support his growing family. His farm income was not even paying the expenses yet, and it rankled him to even consider living off of his wife's income. And yet, he and Elizabeth both dearly loved their adopted homeland, along with all the peculiar ways of its inhabitants. There was certainly a great work crying out to be accomplished �226 We Plow God's Fields . V*, H*1 Elizabeth and "Puny" at Hickory Nut Gap. in these mountains, and Jim held it to be a basic tenet of his personal faith that when a man threw himself in with God, the material details would fall into place. Remarkably, considering his jarring performance at the Fifth Avenue Church, he received a call to become the minister there. Although we can find no formal record of this, his daughter Elspeth was told of it by her father, along with a caution not to mention the name of the church. Perhaps the search committee felt their congregation needed stirring up. In later years, Jim told Elspeth that he and Elizabeth decided he should accept. Then a little group of members of the farmers group Jim had founded that spring, hearing the rumor that Mr. McClure was leaving the mountains to go back to full time preaching, arrived at Hickory Nut Gap. The somber delegation, headed by Mr. Luther Clay, asked him to stay and help them. Jim and Elizabeth thought it over and decided to stay, a decision they never regretted. Jim McClure pledged his support to those men, and continued to work with them until his death. But how could he begin to help these people? Jim's cumulative experience in agriculture and business were minimal at best. The mountain economy, especially outside of Asheville, was so stagnant that almost no one could even imagine what could be done to generate profits. There was no industry, no single cash crop, little investment money, and the people practiced, on the whole, a simple, superstition-ridden form of subsistence agriculture. Local fanning was so inefficient that most of the food for the city of Asheville was shipped in by rail. Furthermore, the mountain farmers were reluctant to take advice from �Farmer Jim 227 outsiders; too often they had been made to feel ashamed of their backwardness. They were a proud and independent people, exhibiting the traits of their pioneer forefathers. Unfortunately, though, game in the woods was getting scarce, the land was wearing out, and there was almost no market for the scrub produce and meat that was being grown on these farms. Jim wondered whether his organizational skills could make a dent in these problems. What he knew about the mountaineer he had learned from those who lived on his farm or close at hand in Fairview. He constantly found himself caught up in the daily problems of both his own tenants and others in the community. People trusted his judgement and knew that he was always willing to help a neighbor out. Nov. 20—P.M. to Fairview to talk with Old Man Morgan relative to making his will—he asking my advice as 5 of W. B.'s children not his own . .. Nov. 21—After lunch [a] visit from O. F. Settles, with Lola heavily on his mind. Lola having become enamored of a 40-50 yr old Pegram woman. Dec. 2—Stopped at Uncle Mouse Freemans on [my] way home—Myrtle Bell & her new husband there—Asked Uncle Mouse what his son-in-law's name was & he replied "Let me see. Its Boyd isn't it—yes its Boyd" Was introduced to him by Myrtle Bell & found his name was Baird. Dec. 16—Up mt. looking for moonshiners on Rocky Point—the tip having been given me mat Emory was operating near that Point. No sign of him . . . Jan. 5, 1920 — Zeb Nix told me he had been awakened the evening before by Bud Owenby's boys who had requested him to come & see to their sister who had cut her throat by falling on a nail. Zeb said that "he jumped out of the bed & run into my cold clothes" & found the wound bleeding badly but he stopped it. How I asked? By stuffing it with cobwebs—Where did you get the cobwebs? From the rafters, lots of them there. The rhythms of life in the Southern mountains were a constant revelation to Jim and Elizabeth. They were fascinated by the dialect, and the endless strings of colorful sayings that helped people to understand their lives. Jim especially was genuinely appreciative of the mountain singing styles, and loved to attend the local shape-note conventions to hear family quartets sing the old-fashioned gospel songs. The quaint habits and ideas of the mountaineers were only a part of the culture that, at its best, produced men and women of strong character and determination. Very few people with Jim's background bothered to look too far below the surface of these people; the hillbilly stereotype was to most a perfectly workable model for understanding them. But while Jim was not blind to the defects within the mountain community, neither did he overlook the strengths. He had grown up in the midst of the business miracle of Chicago, and he knew that sound business organization was effective. Could he create such an enterprise in partnership with mountain farmers, and begin �228 We Plow God's Fields building up a firmer economic foundation on which to construct better churches and schools, better homes, and more opportunities for the coming generations? By 1920, Jim McClure had set his mind to just such a task. He had the support of his wife, and the full energy of a man whose health problems were behind him. His trip up north had soured him on the prospects of a more conventional career in the ministry, and just after Christmas of 1919, he wrote down his thoughts on the church as he saw it. I am convinced that there is something essentially wrong with Christianity as organized today . . . I have at times thought, tho more often I have doubted, and I have always hoped that the church could be saved—feeling that it would be a shame to waste a great organization that had a hold & means of access to and opportunity to utilize so great a number of the best human elements in this country or Europe. But as I find the church continuing to be blind to and to be neutral to the great movements for the liberation of the Spirit, i.e. the labor movement, science, the increase of machines, the fight of the workers for control, the mastery of the machinery of civilization, the forcing of that nature & of commerce & industry to serve mankind & not enrich the few, the unbrotherly distribution of wealth & of political life . . . I have come to think that the church must be left aside, just as the R. C. church was at the Reformation, and that the time has come when the movement toward the development of the Spirit is hindered, more than it is helped by the church. The church is so unshaken in its allegiance to a system of metaphysics & to various forms & traditions. Christ found that organized rel[igion] was so taken up with forms & metaphysics & traditions & inhibitions that it hindered the development of the spirit more than it helped it. Luther found that organized rel[igion] was so taken up with forms & metaphysics & traditions & inhibitions that it hindered more than it helped . . . We are a race capable of great spiritual achievement, capable of arising and accomplishing things, capable of sharing the life of God, of controlling nature, of controlling the affairs of mankind so that brotherhood is produced (not a war & poverty) and we are not told these things, but our eyes are turned to unessential setting up exercises of rel[igion], to ... quaint beliefs in heaven & to a strange assortment of metaphysical guesses. The church can not prevent us from sharing the life of God, developing our spirits, but they will have to be revolutionized or pushed aside in the doing of it.25 When the ink had dried on this manifesto, Jim McClure's own doubts were behind him. He wanted to carry out God's work in Western North Carolina. Perhaps, as a reporter once wrote of him in the old New York Sun, "Jim McClure was a minister who went wrong." But his wrong turning turned into the greatest single hope for a better life among the farmers of Western North Carolina. �Farmer Jim 229 1. President Woodrow Wilson, speech declaring war, April 2, 1917. 2. A popular verse at the time, cited in Bailey and Kennedy, The American Pageant, Sixth Edition (Lexington, Massachusetts: D. C. Heath, 1979) p. 680. 3. James G. K. McClure, Jr., letter to the editor, Chicago Tribune, November 28, 1914. 4. James G. K. McClure, Jr., brown notebook. 5. James G. K. McClure, Jr., 1917 notebook, dated January, 1917. 6. James G. K. McClure, Jr., brown notebook. 7. Donald C. Peattie, "Dr. Austen Fox Riggs" (An Atlantic Portrait), "The Atlantic Monthly" 168 (2), August 1941, pp. 200-207. All the general information and quotes from Dr. Riggs are from this article. 8. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Is Peace Possible?" unpublished paper, submitted to The New Republic in April, 1918. 9. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 10. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Sin of Aachen," sermon given at Bearwallow Baptist Church, July 7, 1918. 11. Ibid. 12. Diary, April 13, 1919. 13. From a clipping out of the Asheville School for Boys newspaper, May 25,1919. Found clipped in the McClure's diary. 14. Diary, September 25, 1919. 15. Elizabeth McClure, diary, October 11, 1919. 16. Ibid., October 12, 1919 17. James G. K. McClure, Jr., personal notebook, October 13, 1919 (pp. 59-61). 18. Program from evening service, First Presbyterian Church, Passaic, NJ, October 12, 1919. 19. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, October 12, 1919. 20. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, October 13, 1919. 21. James. G. K. McClure, Jr. diary, October 21 and 23, 1919. 22. Ibid., November 2, 1919. 23. Ibid., November 13, 1919. 24. Ibid., November 14 and 16, 1919. 25. James G. K. McClure, Jr., 1919 notebook. Written December 28, 1919 after attending the Fairview Church. �Chapter Thirteen Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina Dear Sirs: The problem of the farmer must be seen from many angles before the composite and true solution can be arrived a t . . . All these . . . farm people manage to exist by working every member of the family, commencing with the child of five or six. The women are worked, literally, to death. The men work 12 hours a day and have no time for leisure or improvement of any kind. The housing conditions are worse than in the slums. In many a house in our section when the "flu" hit us there have been ten sick at the same time in a one room house and in three beds. Farm produce has never yet brought a price high enough to warrant the replacing of the soil elements sold off in the produce .. . and farming has truly been called mining. The nitrogen, the potash and the phosphorus have been sold off the land from the Atlantic right through to the Pacific as the wave of pioneers has swept westward . . . When he [the farmer] sees another demand for a raise from some Union, supported by the journals of opinion, and probably favored by the Government, he feels that he will have to pay for it. He fears the freight will be raised all along the line and he will pay the freight. He is beginning to feel sore. He is realizing as a farmer said to me the other day "the farmer doesn't control anything." (James G. K. McClure, Jr., letter to the New Republic, February 23, 1920) James McClure had found his congregation. Scattered about a picturesque mountain terrain, in cabins built alongside clear creeks and amongst the wild laurel and rhododendron, lived one of the nation's least prosperous peoples. Jim's "church" members raised their big families in the timeless methods and habits of the subsistence farmer; at least most of them did. These men and women were of the purest Anglo-Saxon stock, frozen into a kind of permanent frontier existence. These people were an embarrassment to the race, some would say, who by their failure disproved the theories of racial superiority so beguiling to the age. So they were ignored, or worse, caricatured. The moonshine jug with a few X's on the side, the long, lanky frame, a felt hat with a feather stuck in, and of course the Kentucky rifle, mostly to be used on "revenuers" or some other brand of "furriner," were the stock props. Most of the mountaineers in 1920 were independent; they rarely lived together in towns, for the simple reason that there was little commerce or 230 �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 231 Mountain couple in Western North Carolina, 1920s. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) industry to bring them there. Those who owned land lived on it. Land meant wealth, freedom and independence, or so their forefathers thought when they left England. Mostly though, in 1920, it meant taxes, hard work and a bare survival. Most of these mountain families were poor; poor at least in the way wealth is usually measured. Jim noticed, too, a weary, disheartened look on the faces of his neighbors, and decided there was a spiritual poverty among the people, a poverty of hope. He saw it in the faces of young mothers, prematurely wrinkled from the burdens of the endless cycles of child-rearing, many of whom married in their early teens to escape the confines of their own parents. Jim always remarked that it was the faces of these women that had haunted him; he felt that he ought to try something to help them and their children. When he visited a farm, he always liked to calculate how far away the water supply was from the house, and multiply the distance by twice a day and then by 365 days in a year to estimate the miles that woman walked carrying water. He also was disturbed by the message of hopelessness he heard in the churches. Twice on Sunday, and once on Wednesday, the best of the mountaineers attended church, and were fed on a steady diet of heaven and hell. The former was certainly going to be a lot better than the latter, but in the midst of the descriptions of everlasting torture and eternal bliss came the idea that the ��Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 233 present life on earth was so corrupted by sin, and the forces of Satan so powerful, that it was an illusion to think that man could possibly improve his lot. It was best just to come on down to the old-fashioned altar and get yourself some fire insurance before it was too late. Look forward to the joy of heaven, they were told, when the misery of this life will be over. "Don't you hear the bells now ringing? Don't you hear the angels singing? Tis the glory hallelujah Jubilee!"1 Jim McClure cringed in the face of this theology of hopelessness, and often came home enraged by the sermon. To the Fairview church with the Aunts & the Rev. Blackburn preached on the second coming . . . with a chart showing the dispensations etc. Perfectly awful. E. & I were nearly wild. The man spoke from conviction for the first time. [He] said, "I do not despise education, do not despise movements for bettering conditions. These things are all right but the world can not be bettered that way-the only way is by the second coming which is immanent!" It seemed terribly wicked to exploit the aspirations of those people in that fruitless way.2 Jim despised the religion of resignation. But in more reflective moments he would have admitted that real opportunity was so absent in the mountains that few people could imagine life being any different. Aspirations were better left until after death, until after the testing period was complete, as fruitless an attitude as that may be. For them, living was strictly a matter of survival. But life in the mountains did have its compensations, in spite of, or maybe even because of, its meager contact with the industrial revolution going on all around. These people were in no way homogenized by the forces of American culture. Speech in the mountains was a unique blend of coarse and earthy description, flecked with words and pronunciations more at home in a Shakespearean play than the twentieth century United States. These people were the direct descendants of those who sat in the one-penny seats at Shakespeare's Globe Theater, and howled at the antics of Falstaff and his cronies. The speech of the isolated mountaineers had not been exposed to influences from the outside. The place names in Western North Carolina reflect the variety of influences that worked on the culture. The Cherokee Indians left a strong legacy, not only with place names like Tuckasegee and Nantahalla, but with a wideranging knowledge of plant and animal lore that the Europeans adopted. The plants and animals themselves were often chosen as labels, from Hickory Nut Gap to Rattlesnake Knob. From Jackson to Madison to Clay Counties and from Franklin to Democrat to Jefferson, politics left its imprint on mountain geography. The Bible (Mount Pisgah, Shiloh), the classics (Faust, Sparta), and even Greek mythology (Mars Hill, Jupiter) were popular place names. In at least once instance, a local name has entered the national language: the term bunOpposite: Washing day in Western North Carolina, 1920s. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) �234 We Plow God's Fields combe or "bunk" derives from a label applied to the speeches of a particularly long-winded member of Congress from Western North Carolina. Ferguson Mountain, just behind Jim and Elizabeth's home, was named for the losing British general at the Battle of King's Mountain during the Revolutionary War. Most of all, the names in the mountains reflect the hardships, the prejudices, the curiosities, and the humor of the inhabitants: the Devil's Elbow, Nigger Skull Mountain, Good Luck, Loafer's Glory, Burntshirt Mountain, Cold Ass Mountain (sanitized to "Cold" by the cartographers), 'Tater Knob and Licklog Creek are only a few graphic examples. If one wanted to hear the poetry and literary talents of the mountaineers in 1920, one sought out perhaps a gifted Preacher on Sunday, the old country store on a cold winter's day, or best of all, the schoolhouse on election day. If the preacher burned your ears for sinning, the pot-bellied orator or politician would likely cuss you to death. There was usually quite a struggle between the sacred and the profane, between the abstainers and the drinkers, between the honest and the dishonest, the hardworking and the worthless. Often it was the woman who dragged her family to church, while her husband stood outside chewing tobacco or worse. In any event, everybody appreciated language, and the man who could tell a good story was a popular man indeed. Rattlesnakes, panthers, chicken thieves, whiskey and even the old Deluder, Satan himself, made frequent appearances in the mountain tales. Yet many of these same men and women were hard pressed to write their own names. Illiterate people hindered progress; Jim McClure's support of local education ran parallel with his hope to bring profits to the mountain farmer. A man who could not read would forever cling to the old ways, fear new ideas and find it hard to embrace progressive programs. Even before he started promoting the Farmers Federation, Jim attended the school meetings in Fairview to try to find a way to improve local education. On one occasion, when a meeting was to be held at the nearby Pleasant Grove School, to discuss consolidating with the more modern one in the center of Fairview, Jim's progressive ideas were so feared that an opposing faction tried to prevent him from attending by felling a large tree across the road, blocking the way for his Hudson. But anyone who really knew him knew that it would take more than one tree to discourage Jim McClure. He arrived on foot, and when he stood up to speak, he looked into the crowd and saw all of those wrinkled faces of the young women staring back at him. He said later that he had resolved that evening to devote his life to those women, their farmer husbands, and most of all to the new generation of children who might otherwise inherit the same life of drudgery as their parents. Once Jim had resolved to act, he immersed himself in the economics of American agriculture. In order to understand the work of the Farmers Federation, it is important to try to grasp at least the primary threads of this subject, one that has been of great discomfort to the American body politic throughout the twentieth century. The "farm problem" is as old as civilization. Agriculture is the most vital of topics, not only because it is the source of man's food, but �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 235 Young girls hoeing corn on steep mountain land in Western North Carolina. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) also because all the rest of society must rest on its foundation. Throughout the ages, until recently, virtually everyone spent all of his time working the soil. Civilization, which first appeared in the irrigated river valleys of Mesopotamia and the Nile, was (and still is) impossible without a food surplus that frees up a portion of the population from the toil of farming to specialize in a skill or profession. The growth of towns and cities is dependent on the countryside for food. In fact, there are so many religious, social and economic ramifications within the subject of agriculture that its history is easily the most important component in understanding man's past and present. The American present in the agricultural history of mankind is so remarkable that scarcely anyone could have predicted it. That so few people can feed so many is a fact whose true significance is scarcely appreciated. There has been no American revolution to equal the changes in agriculture that this country has pioneered. The rapid process of change also has caused its inevitable share of side effects and social dislocations. Even today, the prospects for a new wave of agricultural miracles lies just behind the exciting research into genetic engineering, but at the same time the difficulties of overzealous pesticide use, monoculture and soil erosion make one pause to wonder about the benefits of progress. The pace of change in agriculture picked up after the Civil War as new machinery and techniques began to appear. The source of the McCormick for- �236 We Plow God's Fields tune was the marvel of the age: a mechanical reaper that virtually replaced the scythe, an implement that had been used for more than 10,000 years. As one agricultural historian explained, " . . . Production and marketing functions began to peel off the farming operations. Farm machinery and implements became more productive and more complicated, and had to be produced . . . in factories."3 Farming itself became specialized. Transportation, marketing, processing and supplying for the crops took many of the tasks of previous generations of farmers elsewhere. Wise capital investment became the key element of success, and debt the common cause of personal disaster. The social and economic ramifications of these changes created an understandable sense of loss of independence, and independence was perhaps the strongest value of the family farmer. All of the uncertainties found expression through organizations such as the Grangers and the Populist Party. Writers like Frank Norris, and later John Steinbeck, wrote movingly of characters crushed between invisible economic forces that seemed more evil for their impersonality. These forces are now rather well understood. In the parlance of the economist, farm prices are extremely inelastic. It has been shown that to increase per-capita food consumption by 2 percent required a 10 percent decline in retail food prices, which translates to a 20 percent decline in farm food product prices. In other words, "Farmers are at the crack end of the price whip."4 The " . . . face of market demand is precipitous: supply the market with a little more than it will take and the extra amount tumbles over the edge of the glacier and sells for a price at the bottom of the precipice. However, not only does the extra amount sell at a price at the bottom . . . but all the products sell at ... [that] price. . . ."5 Outside of the vagaries of export, there is only one way for the market demand for American food to increase: more Americans. People might substitute roast beef for hamburger, or wine for milk, but there is a real limit to the total bulk one person can eat. A product manufacturer, on the other hand, can continually dream up new gadgets, stimulate demand for his goods with advertising, and try to manage supply to avoid over-production. Even then, the company has the advantage of being able to manipulate the price to stimulate customers. The farmer has no control over his price; he looks in the newspaper and takes what is offered, or leaves it and hopes for an improvement the next day. The total demand for food will not budge even with the best advertising, although people can be convinced to shift items on their grocery lists. Furthermore, over-production in the agricultural sector is very difficult to prevent, and as has been shown, is the worst enemy of the farmer. He, as one individual, will borrow money to buy a new tractor and machinery. He then needs to reap the biggest return possible to pay his bills. The new machinery increases his productivity, but when the increases are multiplied across the country, oversupplies are almost assured. Through price supports, allotments, market advice, and even paying farmers not to plant, the federal government has erected a �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 237 rather byzantine structure to try to cope with this problem. The results are controversial at best. During the years that Jim McClure began farming in North Carolina a milestone in American agriculture slipped by almost unnoticed. The farm economy crossed a great divide during 1910-20. Farm employment increased in every decade up until that one and thereafter declined . . . Output per worker jumped unpredictably before 1910; after that it skyrocketed . .. Something fundamental to or about farming in the United States changed between 1910 and 1920. Before then the national farm plant grew and developed by territorial expansion and an increased number of farmers. After 1920 it continued to grow, but in a new way; it grew through capital formation, the adoption of new and improved practices and technology, and improved management.6 The number of farm workers and the amount of acreage under production actually declined after 1920, despite the increasing production. The marginal family farms went out of business, and the surplus agricultural labor moved to the cities. "The traditional approach to farming—son learning from father and farming as his father and grandfather had before him—had crumbled slowly during the nineteenth century, and was shattered completely during the 1920s by the gasoline engine, the tractor."7 During the early twenties, when most of the American economy was decidedly upbeat, the agricultural sector plunged into an early depression. Several economic forces collided, conspiring together to glut nearly every commodity market. First of all, the preceding two decades had been lush times for the farmer. From 1900 to 1910, farm prices increased 40 per cent. The large influx of immigrants helped to push up the national population 21 percent while farm output jumped only 4 percent. The next decade was even more profitable. Output still lagged behind population growth, but much more dramatically. World War I opened up the enormous European markets to a continent too preoccupied with war to grow its own food.8 Two decades of rapidly rising demand stimulated agricultural production in the United States. New equipment, new techniques and better management were all pressed into service to supply the customers. The addition of the tractor meant that several acres previously tilled to feed the draft horses and mules could now be used to grow food for sale. When the war ended, however, the Europeans began to seal off their home markets and American agriculture immediately found itself overproducing. "After World War I, farm prices fell sharply . . . That decade was not a happy one because so many farmers paid the price—business failure—for the land speculation of the preceding decade. But conditions could and did get much worse. The relation between population and farm output became decidedly unfavorable to farms during the unhappy 1930s: the population growth increased only 7 per �238 We Plow God's Fields cent and farm output 11. The consequence once again was tumbling farm prices and badly depressed farm incomes."9 Jim McClure's dream was to bring cash to the mountain farm by integrating the region's farming resources into the national agricultural system through the introduction of modern agricultural methods and a strong marketing effort. As it turned out, he picked the worst possible moment to try to plug in: for two decades that system remained ill, some thought terminally so. The year 1920 began favorably enough, but "Twelve months later prosperity had evaporated and farmers were confronted by the worst agricultural depression they had ever known."10 The short-term factor that kicked off the decline was the post-war deregulation of several spheres of the economy that had been managed by the government during the war crisis. The de-control of railroad freight rates, the end of the War Finance Corporation, and the elimination of government wheat supports all had a direct bearing on agriculture. To cope with the post-war inflation, the Federal Reserve Board pushed up interest rates, which cost the farmers in higher interest payments. The long-run effects, however, were what kept agriculture on the ropes. Foreign orders for American grain immediately went slack and prices plummeted. Two decades of prosperity had built up the cumulative agricultural productive capacity of the nation to levels domestic consumption alone could never sustain. From June to December of 1920, agricultural prices slipped an average of 40 percent.11 Disaster had struck, and the torturous relationship between farm interests and government policy began to heat up in earnest. Jim McClure launched the Farmers Federation in the midst of this crisis. It may have been in large part because of his determined effort that the Federation survived these early years, but truly the mountain farmers had been in such perpetual depression for so long, and were so isolated from the national economy anyway, that the problems of Iowa or Kansas made hardly a ripple in Western North Carolina. But the sharp drop in prices did create momentum across the country for cooperative agricultural movements. Joseph Knapp, an authority on the subject, wrote: "The year 1920 produced a veritable explosion in cooperative activity that brought a doubling of cooperative marketing business within five years. A combination of factors contributed. Most important was the severe post-World War I depression which led to chronic agricultural distress in the face of general business recovery. The depression awakened interest in cooperative marketing as a means of restoring farm prosperity, and it gave birth to a strong demand for monopolistic commodity marketing cooperatives that could control farm product prices.12 The impetus, then, was for the wheat or tobacco or cotton growers to band together to sell their product as one seller, and command a higher, monopolistic price. This is known as selling on a "commodity basis." The difficulty with this kind of a program is the great discipline required of individual members not to create a break in the monopoly price. Cartels are notoriously unstable. �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 239 One remarkable man worked tirelessly to promote this system among the different commodity associations in the United States. Aaron Sapiro started organizing in California with the prune and raisin growers. Later, almost by chance, he found himself in Mobile, Alabama, in April 1920 at the annual meeting of the American Cotton Association. Even though his name was not on the program, Aaron Sapiro took that meeting by storm. Under his direction, a National Cotton Exchange was organized to sell, warehouse, finance and transport cotton. Sapiro next turned to both the flue-cured and burley tobacco markets, both of which were reeling because of price drops in 1920. The momentum of his ideas increased rapidly throughout the agricultural community. His theory included these requirements: organization on a commodity basis [rather than by region], democratic control by the members, long term and binding contracts, orderly and businesslike marketing, and the control of a sufficient proportion of the entire crop to dominate the market.13 Jim McClure was well aware of Sapiro's activities, and tapped into his sense of mission and enthusiasm. But, unfortunately for Western North Carolina, there was no commodity with which it could compete in the national market, and so the Farmers Federation by necessity had to organize on a regional, not a commodity, basis. Moreover, Jim McClure was interested in more than economics. He wanted the mountain people to build for themselves a rural civilization based on the highest of spiritual values, so to him the marketing of farm produce was really only the means to an end. In time, the weaknesses in "Sapiroism" began to overshadow the movement, and by about 1925 it had lost its fervor.14 Mere market power had been unable to combat the problem of over-production, and without coercion the monopolies became difficult to maintain. Yet Aaron Sapiro was one of the most remarkable and influential men of the history of the American cooperative movement, and his efforts created a favorable climate in which many such organizations thrived. The Farmers Federation was one. In Western North Carolina, over-production, monopoly power and modern technology were concepts as alien as if the region occupied a forgotten corner of the Himalayas rather than the Appalachians. Larger than several states, the region the Farmers Federation eventually served was sliced and criss-crossed with mountain ranges more formidable and extensive than any others east of the Mississippi. Along the rivers and creeks the soil could be rich and fruitful, but more often, especially on the more rocky upland farms, it had been exhausted by short-sighted farming methods Jim McClure always likened more to mining than agriculture. The more one climbed the hillsides, the more the soil thinned out, and yet in 1920 many an Appalachian family survived on a farm perched overlooking the most prosperous bottom lands in the valley. Cash on these marginal farms was the scarcest of commodities: it was hoarded to pay taxes, and to buy a little salt and sugar. At Christmas time, a Florida orange and a big dinner was about all a child could hope for. In 1920 there were no reliable cash crops in the mountains. The railroad brought the local farmers into competition with the more efficient, quality ori- �240 We Plow God's Fields ented farmers elsewhere in the United States, with the result that even the small population centers in Western North Carolina were fed to a large extent by farmers outside the region. During the early years of the Farmers Federation, the composite picture of mountain agriculture was bleak. If one traveled about in the 1920s, the visual evidence of one run-down farm after another would have been convincing enough. But in 1928, the governor of North Carolina received a "Report of the Tax Commission" that substantiated, with a series of grim statistics, how thin the economic base of life in the mountains was. The Commission studied 281 mountain farms from Jackson, McDowell and Ashe Counties. These farms were chosen to represent the actual diversity of the area as closely as possible, and then were studied by economists in great detail. One can only imagine what comic scenes developed when these representatives of academia invaded the mountaineers' home turf. For certain though, the farmers were given a great opportunity to pull pranks on the city folks, and for years afterwards the best of them were told and retold around the wood stove on a cold winter's day. There was no sport in the mountains better than aggravating invaders. One also wonders how anyone representing a tax commission could maneuver around at all. But the data rolled into Raleigh, outlining the shocking truth that agriculture in the mountains was not only providing little income, but in fact represented negative profit. As meager as the farmers' capital investments were, they were producing on average a negative return of-$192 or -3.4 percent. There were no incentives, clearly, to increase production by buying machinery, or more land, or even a better mule. Agriculture was simply a strategy for survival, the only option available outside of the logging camps. Discounting the unpaid wages of the farmer and his family, the average cash income for these mountain farmers in 1927 was $86 a year. Eighty-six dollars before taxes translated, when spread amongst the farmer's large family, into bare feet, homespun clothing, and a psychology of hopelessness that bothered Jim McClure more than anything else. Many farms, especially in Buncombe and Henderson Counties, were no doubt much more prosperous than these figures indicate, but on the other hand there were many farms where the $86 would have been a boom year.15 It is no wonder that men turned to moonshine, for cash and consolation. How powerful the vision of that heavenly "city of gold" described by the preachers must have appeared when compared to the drab realities of life in this world. In the starkest of contrasts, the city of Asheville glittered during the twenties as an earthly "city of gold," with a tempo that never skipped a beat throughout the Jazz Age. It was condemned by the local Baptist ministers as a magnet of vice and temptation. Wealthy patrons flocked in to enjoy the pleasures of the climate and the comforts of some of the most luxurious resort hotels in the United States. It was the town and the time of Thomas Wolfe. Asheville had earned the renown of the rich and famous, and became for a time their summer playground. George Vanderbilt had moved in earlier, to give the town one of the most monumental expressions of the gilded age anywhere in the country, the �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 241 chateau known as Biltmore House. He also constructed the little town of Biltmore, with an integrated architecture of red roof tiles and stucco, to house and maintain the artisans who built the house and other employees of his estate. If the Vanderbilts represented a dying age during the twenties, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald were the most notorious, the most frenetic harbingers of the new. And they too brought their show to Asheville. But if Asheville was enjoying its historical moment in the sun, those who lived in the countryside couldn't have cared less. The local farmers could only sell perishable goods such as milk, butter, cream, fresh vegetables and fruit to this elite population. The railroads had created the Asheville boom, bringing in and taking away 250,000 visitors a summer,16 and they also brought in the high quality food these visitors demanded. The choice meats, produce, eggs and potatoes that suited this clientele were not being grown by the mountain farmers. Ignorance and lack of capital meant that even the lucrative local market was being eroded away by outside farmers who bought quality seed and standardized breeds and practiced improved farming techniques. Even though potatoes are a crop well-suited to Western North Carolina, the guests at the Grove Park Inn preferred that their roast beef be complemented with a big baked potato from Maine, and therein lay the challenge before Jim McClure. The same railroad that brought down potatoes from Maine also supplied the mountain farmers with fertilizer, lime, seeds and implements. But these farms were comparatively small, and lacked bulk buying opportunities. Buying supplies usually meant a day lost driving behind the old mule to the local feed and seed store. These stores themselves usually sold a low volume, and were often poorly stocked in a region plagued by notoriously poor roads. So the farmers paid dearly for what few agricultural supplies they could afford to buy. Selling produce was equally inefficient. The wagon was hitched up again and driven into the town square. In Asheville, the usual market was around Pack Square, and the farmers would spend the day with their load, haggling with the customers, swapping tales and chewing tobacco. It could be a pleasant day away from the routine of farming, and a chance for father and son to explore the delights of urban life. But all too often the journey home was spoiled by the meager return a year's work brought to the man and his family. It seemed as if every farmer picked his beans or dug his potatoes the same day, and nobody wanted to haul his load back home again. Towards the evening, when the farmers were ready to leave, the market tilted in favor of the buyers, first one farmer and then another would sell out for a pittance, reducing the value of his labors to almost nothing. Jim McClure ran up against the same problem. He combatted it by lining up his buyers ahead of time at hospitals and hotels, and endeavoring to grow a superior product. If he could not find his price, he brought the load back home. But he discovered early on that inferior products marketed in a haphazard fashion had almost killed and buried any profit in mountain farming. �242 We Plow God's Fields Mountain farmer plowing with a matched pair of horses. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) Prior to 1920, there had been at least two healthy spells of farming in the mountains, especially in Buncombe and Henderson Counties. An excellent turnpike road was built in 1827 that connected Tennessee, Kentucky and Western North Carolina with markets in Charleston and Augusta. Upwards of 170,000 hogs ambled through on this and other roads before the Civil War destroyed this commerce. It took bushels of corn to feed these animals each evening, stimulating such a demand that a surprisingly large number of slaves were purchased as laborers in areas near the road. After the war, from roughly 1870 to 1890, a flue-cured tobacco boom brought cash to the mountains. Curing barns in the countryside and warehouses and factories in Asheville sprang up like mushrooms in the rich soil of tobacco profits. Mountain leaf was popular as the wrapper for cigars, but, by the turn of the century, the introduction of cigarettes along with competition from Eastern North Carolina ruined mountain tobacco markets. Jim McClure helped to bring tobacco culture (and cash) back into the mountains during the Twenties, with the introduction of the Burley variety. Unfortunately, the intensive culture of both corn and tobacco during the Nineteenth Century, without the means or knowledge of the use of proper fertilizers, had left many of the farms with lifeless, eroded soil, creating a further challenge for the Federation. Jim McClure was not the first man to attempt to organize the farmers of �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 243 Traveling the roads of Western North Carolina. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) Western North Carolina, although he was by far the most successful. In 1873, the Grange movement had three chapters in Buncombe County.17 As was the pattern elsewhere, though, the Grangers became discouraged when their overblown expectations could not be realized, and the meetings sank into mere conviviality.18 The shrill political ideas of the Farmers Alliance vocalized the next wave of discontent. That group's strong stands in favor of better education, self-government at the county level, an increase in the amount of money in circulation (the silver issue), higher farm prices, and regulation of the railroads by the government were later co-opted by the likes of the populist orators Tom Watson of Georgia and "Pitchfork" Ben Tillman of South Carolina. In North Carolina, the Farmers' Alliance went political in 1890. Many of their candidates were elected to the General Assembly, and this woke up the entrenched and complacent Democratic Party. But the Alliance's "farmers' legislature" failed to solve the financial problems of North Carolina despite its free-spending ways. As Theodore Saloutos explained in his book on farmer's organizations, it was because the rhetoric did not match the reality. "Alliance, instead of realizing that they, as farmers, were becoming the victims of sweeping economic changes to which they would have to make radical adjustments, preferred to believe that they were the victims of a money-mad society . . . The Alliancemen were simply stumbling in the dark in search of a working formula that would put more of the earnings of 'productive toil' into their pockets, and they called this formula 'cooperation.'"19 The final wave of farmer protest and organization came through the efforts of the Farmers' Union, which derived its intellectual suste- �244 We Plow God's Fields Mountain boys thinking about hoeing corn. O.T. Ashe's boys on the left, with Tom Anderson's boy on the right, Shooting Creek Section of Clay County, June 7, 1946. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) nance from the free spirit of the Progressive Era. When Jim arrived in Buncombe County, there was the vestige of the Union locally, and a pathetic cooperative store near Fairview in Oakley.20 Much of the appeal of the Farmers' Union came from the fascination with secret rituals and "bawdy horseplay." Many joined out of simple curiosity, just to learn the secrets.21 Despite the ineffectiveness of these three organizations, the Grange, the Alliance and the Farmers' Union did help to encourage progressive agricultural techniques. But, as each wave came and went, as leaders rose and fell, enthusiasm was replaced by suspicion and cynicism. In the South, racial tensions tended to blunt the ability of these groups to make a political impact. For example, the Alliance was completely destroyed when the Democratic Party began preaching race hatred, thwarting the efforts of the Alliance leaders to unite the power of black and white farmers in North Carolina. Jim McClure began selling stock in the Farmers Federation in the midst of the memories of all those failed attempts to help the farmer. A sharp gambling man would have given him long odds on success. The three organizations that preceded him all had a wide base of national support, and yet each died as the bloom of enthusiasm wore off. He was attempting to create a business over a rather large geographical area with an abysmal transportation system, among �Farming in the Mountains of North Carolina 245 farmers with a high rate of illiteracy whose agricultural practices lagged far behind the competition's. The Federation was to be a boot-strap, self-financed organization in a region that was extremely cash deficient. He would have insufficient operating capital, no well-established outside market for crops, and himself as president, a man more knowledgeable about theological trends in Germany than agriculture in Western North Carolina. Moreover, the last time he had worked hard, his health had broken down within ten months. The very thought of a Yankee preacher, and liberal one at that, coming into the mountains and organizing a group of people who had little more than their own sense of independence to be proud of, seems in retrospect a preposterous scheme. How could he possibly hope to create a business out of thin air that would not only pay its own bills, but also pay dividends to its members? How could such an organization expect to survive the first little adverse business ripple? Undoubtedly many discouraging remarks were made both to Jim and behind his back about his scheme to help the mountain farmers by the bankers in Asheville and the residents of the hollows out in the countryside. But Jim's mind was made up; his course was set. He believed that men and women who dared to dream great visions were given the strength and support of the Lord God Almighty. With his own mind firmly committed, he could persuade people to believe in the impossible. For more than forty years the Farmers Federation served as an agency of change in Western North Carolina, as a cutting edge of progress. It became the great work of its founder and long-time president, reflecting his ideas and his urge to serve mankind until his death in 1956. 1. "When They Ring the Golden Bells," copyright 1887 by Dion DeMarbelle. Used by permission of the John Church Co., owners of copyright. Found in the Church Hymnal, (Cleveland, Tennessee: Tennessee Music and Printing Company, 1951), p.294. 2. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary, June 13, 1920. 3. William W. Cochrane, The City Man's Guide to the Farm Problem (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1965), p. 3. 4. Ibid., p. 81. 5. Ibid., p. 85. 6. Ibid., p. 26. 7. Ibid., p.27. 8. Ibid. 9. Ibid., p. 28. 10. Joseph Knapp, The Advance of American Cooperative Enterprise: 1920-1945 (Danville, Illinois: Interstate Printers and Publishers, 1973), p. 5. 11. Ibid.,p.6. 12. Ibid., p. 3. 13. Ibid., p. 1-9. 14. Ibid., p. 74-75. 15. "Report of the Tax Commission to Governor Angus Wilton McLean," authorized by the 1927 General Assembly, Raleigh, 1928. 16. Talmage Powell, "Asheville: An Historical Sketch," Doug Swaim, editor, found �246 We Plow God's Fields in Cabins and Castles: The History and Architecture of Buncombe County, North Carolina. (Asheville, N.C.: Historic Resources Commission of Asheville and Buncombe County, 1981), p. 43. 17. John Ager, "Buncombe County: A Brief History," in Cabins and Castles . . . OpCit., p. 22. 18. Theodore Saloutos, Farmer Movements in the South, 1865-1933, (Lincoln, Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 1960), p. 41. 19. Ibid., p. 88-89. 20. Interview with Guy Sales. 21. Op Cit., Saloutos, Farmers Movements . . . , p.87. �Chapter Fourteen The Farmers Federation The greatest agricultural possibilities of the mountain country, indeed, can only be realized through the growth of the co-operative movement. Until the farmers of a neighborhood far from market join in some definite co-operative undertaking . . . the efforts of the individual fanner will fall far short of their desert, no matter how excellent his method."1 John C. Campbell [Jim] is still running the "Federation of Farmers" which has many ramifications & it seems too funny that he, a "town" man, should be President of a Farmers' Concern. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 12, 1920) By the spring of 1920, the Fairview Farmers Federation was duly organized and incorporated under the laws of North Carolina, and by the next fall it had grown so fast that the "Fairview" in the name had to be dropped. Suddenly, Jim McClure became surrounded by an organization that required all of his energies, all of his intellect, and most of all, every ounce of his famous charm. At times he dragged the Federation along as a dead weight in impossible circumstances, and at other times he just did his best to keep up with the momentum. After all the years of frustration, Jim McClure was back to work. He was satisfying his deepest convictions with an energy that infected those around him. The Farmers Federation was on the move, and so was James Gore King McClure, Jr. Fourteen years later, Jim reminisced about those early days at the annual meeting of "The New York Farmers," a group of wealthy gentleman farmers. We started in 1920 and had a little meeting in a log cabin, when we had a committee of five of these mountain farmers. We had the organization meeting in a log cabin where the family could not go to bed until after we got through with our meeting, because there was just one room with the beds in it. At this meeting we decided to put up a shed on a side track, which we were to put in ourselves. We had since put up two additions on this shed. We started in with one manager. At first we thought one of the directors would open the building on a Tuesday and another on Saturday, but we decided to risk employing a manager by the month. Within six weeks we had to have an assistant and within another six weeks we had to have another one. Then the movement began to spread.2 Despite the romance conjured up by this log cabin meeting, the most important of these early gatherings probably took place in Tom Nesbitt's modest 247 �248 We Plow God's Fields frame house in Fairview. Mr. Nesbitt was a farmer who milked a few cows and raised a few crops to peddle around Asheville but like most farmers at this time he made a meager living for all his efforts. Around his fireside the members of the Federation took the courageous step to launch themselves as a business enterprise.3 In 1920, when the Farmers Federation was organized, there were no special laws set up in North Carolina under which the cooperative could be created, so these men incorporated under the general business laws of the State, and became a cooperative through their by-laws. These by-laws followed the Rochdale plan. The Equitable Pioneers of Rochdale, England, were a group of unemployed weavers who in 1844, with twenty-eight pounds, began the first consumers' cooperative. The weavers, like the farmers of Western North Carolina, were worried about the cost of their supplies, and so pooled their buying power to reduce their costs. The two distinguishing features of the Rochdale system were the financial structure and how voting power was organized. First of all, everyone who joined, no matter how many shares of stock he or she owned, was entitled to one vote. The usual corporate law is one share, one vote; but in a region where cash was scarce and suspicion of "big money" people was rampant, "one man, one vote" avoided disputes over control of the organization that could have blown the Farmers Federation away in the first discouraging wind. The second Rochdale fundamental incorporated into the Farmers Federation determined that all supplies were to be sold at prevailing retail rates. At the end of the year, after all the expenses were paid, each member would be given credit for his or her share of the profits, based on the quantity of business done during that period of time. Some profits were held out to be distributed to the stockholders, and some were plowed back into the organization. The Rochdale system of co-operation was created to serve its members, not make a profit. But its finances were based on sound business methods. Jim McClure was elected President of the Fairview Farmers Federation, and although he offered to resign in favor of someone else near the beginning, he was always re-elected by the directors until his death thirty-six years later. At the first meeting a neighbor, S. J. Ashworth, was elected Vice President, and G. L. Clay was chosen as Secretary-Treasurer and Business Agent. Jim McClure believed in involving as many people as possible in an organization, so that they would feel interested and responsible. He wanted the work done for the Federation to be meaningful, to give those involved a feeling that their efforts promoted an enterprise of high purposes, of God's purpose. Jim McClure's notions were based as much on the Apostle Paul's description of the "body of Christ," where each member contributed his God-endowed gifts for the consecration of the whole, as they were on the modern business practices that had surrounded him in Lake Forest. He worked to pull in as many hands, feet and mouths as he could, and in those early days of the Federation he cajoled the strongest men of each of Fairview's districts to be on the Finance Committee. Added to the officers, then, the following men were appointed to solicit subscriptions of �The Farmers Federation 249 stock: Boyce Miller of Laurel Bluff, Ottis Briggs of Cane Creek, Henry Garren of Pleasant Grove, John B. Merrill of Brush Creek, Albert Reed of Gashes Creek and R. T. Merrill of Gap Creek. On June 19, 1920, the directors decided that the Federation should print up a news sheet to promote its ideas, and chose Winslow Freeman as its first managing editor. This publication grew with the organization, and was itself a powerful agent for change in the region. Community news, recipes, morale boosting, constipation remedies and great quantities of hard-nosed agricultural information were the staple of the Farmers Federation News. To a region starved for reliable information about proven farming techniques, the News was influential beyond measure. Volume 1, No. 1 of the Fairview Farmers' News Sheet, was published July 15, 1920. Jim McClure wrote most of the editorials, and his first is a wonderful expression of his enthusiasm and the early spirit of the Federation. HELP YOURSELF Every one knows that the farmer is up against it, and the farmer knows it better than any one else . . . He cannot help his children at home because he cannot offer them what they can get under die shadow of the big smokestacks There is a great deal of talk about helping the farmer. That kind of talk does not accomplish anything. The only man who is going to help the fanner is the fanner himself. The farmer has got to save himself, and what is more, he can doit. The one and only way that the farmer can help himself is to control the price of his product. At present the farmer does not control the price of the stuff he produces, and until he does control it he will never be safe. As a step toward controlling what we produce, we plan to put up this warehouse on the Fairview siding. It can help every man in this section. It has great possibilities, but it can only do us good if we all stick to it. We have a chance now to help ourselves get ahead, so let every man in this section put his shoulder to the wheel and keep grunting.4 This first project of the Federation was to build a warehouse along the railroad near Fairview, in order to sell supplies and handle crops. Stock (at $50 per share) could be "bought" by helping to build this structure, and so the first News Sheet issued: A CALL FROM THE FOREMAN The Federation of Farmers of Fairview have completed plans for the warehouse which they are planning to build at the Fairview siding. They are hoping that each farmer in the township will take at least one share of stock in the warehouse. These shares may be bought with material at market prices or by labor. The material may be delivered at the siding or at Fairview. Labor is required to extend the siding and to build the warehouse. �250 We Plow God's Fields "Goodbye Forever"—cartoon in the Asheville Citizen, July 5, 1924. The prices: Muscle men, $3 per day teams, $5 per day Material at market prices as follows: One set switch ties. 120 cross ties, first class 4 pieces 6 x 8 , 10V£ feet long . . . The News Sheet also urged readers to: SET YOUR ALARM FOR AUGUST FIRST . . . We have arranged with the railroad to furnish the labor for all the work on the siding. They will furnish a foreman who will boss the job. This will give a chance to all the muscle men and all who can tap a spike on the head to earn a share of stock or at least make a running start toward a share . . . �The Farmers Federation FINANCING THE WAREHOUSE A day or two after this paper reaches you the members of the finance committee will start around to solicit subscriptions. BE READY FOR THEM. We will have to pay for three car lengths of track and for moving the switch. Two of these car lengths will be beside the warehouse and one will be for loading directly from wagons or trucks. We will also have to pay for our warehouse and having working capital in addition. Stock can be taken in either one of three ways: (1) By full payment in cash, or by check. If it is possible, take your stock in this way, for we have to make a deposit of eight hundred dollars with the railroad company at once and we will need a substantial sum for the warehouse and working capital. (2) Stock may be taken in work or materials.. . . (3) Stock may be taken as outlined in the plan by the payment of ten dollars down and giving your note for the balance, which shall be paid out of your profits before any cash profits are returned to you. Every farmer in this section should be able to pay ten dollars down in cash, or in materials or labor and so obtain the benefits of this cooperative enterprise. One fifty dollar share is the minimum required to become a stockholder. It is expected that those who will do more than a minimum business . . . will take from two to four shares . . . This project cannot go through unless many of us make a sacrifice in the present for future advantages. The only rule that we have made is TAKE ALL THE STOCK YOU CAN AND THEN SOME. LOOK OUT, FARMERS! Don't let this opportunity slip through your fingers! If we farmers in this section will all go into this warehouse proposition and do our business through it, we can control the entire output of this section. "Now you've said something." We can write to companies with which we want to do business to meet our terms and they will. The united selling and purchasing power of the territory which feeds into this siding is great. We will never get any advantages from our power if we remain individual buyers and sellers . . . WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE ASHEVILLE MARKET? The other day with potatoes wholesaling for $4 and retailing at from $6 to $7, a Rutherford farmer came into the market and sold a few bushels at $2. The whole market dropped right down. The trouble is with us farmers and not with the market. The farmer who sells his produce at less than what it costs to produce it plus a fair profit is robbing all the rest of us. As far as the writer of this article knows, no Northern potatoes are shipped into Asheville until September. The Western North Carolina farmers supply the market and in addition 100,000 summer visitors. The market will pay what we ask if we all stand together. If the farmers of Western North Carolina only knew it they could hold the summer market right where they wanted to. . . . We must work toward all standing together or quit the farm.5 251 �252 We Plow God's Fields The News Sheet continues discussing potatoes, specifically THE FEDERATION POTATO, that soon will be narrowed down to two varieties, with strict specifications to make the grade. Cabbages are mentioned, along with Mr. Clifford Shuford's "decision to launch upon the sea of matrimony at some future date" with an unmentioned accomplice. Finally, Jim McClure described THE PLAN, the by-laws of the Federation based on the work of those Rochdale weavers. Many of the ideas on which the Federation was based came from a remarkable young man who became something of a legend in Southern agriculture and the cooperative movement. With zeal and common sense, he promoted modern agriculture and farmer's cooperatives as the editor of North Carolina's own magazine, born with the Farmers Alliance Movement, The Progressive Farmer. The young man's name was Clarence Poe, and he spent his lifetime formulating practical solutions to the problems of the Southern farmer. Naturally, he and Jim became friends. But before they met, Jim knew Clarence Poe from his book How Farmers Co-Operate and Double Profit, which Jim used as a blueprint for the Federation. For example, Poe made these comments and suggestions in his book: Agricultural co-operation on the whole .. . means simply that the fanner must take control of all phases of his own business . . .6 [They] . . . may adopt the best marketing system on earth, but they must also do better farming or lose out in competition with other sections.7 [One system for robbing the farmer. Your product is shipped off and when the report comes back it might read] . . . market glutted since you started your shipment; prices all off, . . . [or] Your shipment reached us in bad condition; will command only one-half or two-thirds regular market price." And in such cases, what redress has the small unorganized trucker? He cannot afford to make a trip to New York or Buffalo or Chicago, . . . to see whether the report is correct or not. He must take what is offered.8 No sort of movement for rural co-operation or for the development of a greater rural civilization can win large success unless it recognizes and makes room for the country woman; and it is also true that the man will never organize the women.9 Against all odds, the early years of the Farmers Federation saw an organization take root and grow like the most persistent of weeds, in a soil few thought could support life of any sort. Jim's wife encouraged him at home, but the early enthusiasm of the local farmers in Fairview was crucial to the Federation's growth. The work of raising sums of money through stock sales, promoting the ideas in new sections of Buncombe County, and soon enough in new counties, fell to a very hardworking group of men who followed Jim's leadership. These men volunteered to spend time away from their own farms to serve the Federa- �The Farmers Federation 4 ' •• > n ' " ' " ? l : : '••• y 5 : 253 ' ' - \\ OIL, FOLKS \f *i "Watch Us Grow!" September 23, Fanners Federation News. tion. In addition to the farmers of Fairview who have already been mentioned, some of the early "strongmen" behind Jim McClure were Church Crowell of Enka, a former state legislator, and Allan Coggins, "the mayor of Bee Tree," both graduates of the University of North Carolina. S. C. Clapp of the State Test Farm at Swannanoa, North Carolina, and C. C. Profitt, agricultural extension agent for Buncombe County, also helped. With the second issue of the News in November 1920, the Federation had grown to 150 members, and could boast a substantial warehouse along the Southern Railroad tracks between Fairview and Asheville. The roll call of members that appeared in that issue represented the first time most of these men and women had ever seen their names in print. These members read the News with great interest, and learned the grim truth that just at the birth of their organization, the bottom was dropping out of American farm prices. �254 We Plow God's Fields HAMMER THE FARMER Right now you can see the process of hammering the fanner going on. Prices are coming down. The papers are carrying big headlines every day. There is a strong campaign on to hammer down the cost of living. As usual the heaviest blow falls on the farmer. Wages are not going down and we are all glad to see them stay up. But the farmer's wage has been driven down lower than any other thing. The farmer's wage is the price of his potatoes, his apples, his cabbage, his cattle, his cow, and the farmer's wage is being reduced 50% Hollering and grumbling will not, however, do us any good. If we want relief, we farmers will have to get it ourselves. And we already have here in this section the beginning of relief, the point of the wedge . . . The warehouse and siding is our best chance. To make this proposition go we will have to get behind it and stay there. We will have to be patient with it. It is a baby and will have to be nursed along for some time. Give it two or three years. Don't expect it to set the price or to sell produce at fancy prices yet awhile. Don't expect it to be able to handle everything right at once. Give the Federation time to grow and the officers time to learn the ways.10 Clearly, Jim wanted the members to keep their expectations in line with realistic prospects. He preached solidarity and discipline to his stockholders, knowing full well that soon enough the beauty of the new bloom would begin to fade in the face of unrealized expectations. THROW AWAY A NICKEL ONCE IN A WHILE Don't lose that dollar because you can't see it for the nickel in your eye. Throw away the nickel and pick up the dollar. When some one offers you cottonseed meal cheaper than the Federation is selling it and you think you can save a nickel, just remember that dollar. You know what cottonseed meal sold for before the Federation got its first car and sold it for $2.50. The Federation brought the market down, and every man in this section is getting the advantage of it. If someone cuts under us a nickel or a dime and you only see the nickel and quit the Federation to buy from him, just remember that if the Federation is put out of business the price will jump right up again. You will save your nickel but lose your dollar. Stick to the Federation. Glue to it. It has saved this section hundreds of dollars on fertilizer and meal already. And remember that you get your profits back at the end of the year. STICK TO FT! GLUE TO FT! TRADE WITH IT! IT IS OUR BEST AND ONLY CHANCE.11 Not only did Jim McClure have to worry about the price of cottonseed meal and the defection of members, but in order for the Federation to survive, he had to find some way to market the products of Western North Carolina. In 1920, these products lagged behind other parts of the country in quality and �The Farmers Federation 255 standardization. From potatoes to hogs to chickens to beef cattle to string beans, the mountain farmer invariably grew crops from inferior seed or bred animals of poor genetic quality. Then, the cash starved farmer under-fertilized, or underfed what he was raising, often using methods long ago discarded as inefficient or counterproductive in other parts of the United States. Right from the beginning, the News emphasized standard breeds and quality products. There were articles each month covering all aspects of farming, written by a wide range of experts. From the beginning, Jim McClure preached his message of agricultural excellence. The theme of uniformity was hammered by the editors of the News month after month, "Beg, Borrow or Steal A FEDERATION POTATO," and "GET A RED HOG" (Duroc-Jersey) were typical headlines.12 Jim McClure had taken it upon himself to educate an entire region in modern agriculture, and slowly the results began to appear. Always the tone of the advice was clear and sharp, but not condescending. Information came in the form of new hope, with a heavy dose of enthusiasm. MR. BUNCOMBE COUNTY FARMER, YOUR OPPORTUNITIES ARE UNLIMITED IF YOU WILL STOP THE LEAKS With a CLIMATE excelled by no other in the world, and a soil that is naturally rich in all the plant food elements . . . you should certainly be one of the most progressive farmers in America . . . You should have modern home conveniences, with good schools, good churches, good roads, and other things that go to make country life more pleasant and wholesome. The system of farming and marketing that you have used in the past has not yielded you a good living . .. Your profits have been leaking through the following channels: First—You have let about 33% of your cultivated soils become sick and die Second—You are growing scrub stock, which is not profitable . . . Third—You have been planting poor seed. Fourth—You have not been pruning and spraying your orchard, and as a result your fruit is not marketable .. . Fifth,—perhaps the greatest leak has been your system of marketing. You have hauled your products to market, unstandardized and ungraded, and took what the market offered you, which was often less that the cost of production. This is the most difficult leak to stop, but you can stop it by joining your neighbors as a member of the "Farm Federation."13 BUNCOMBE COUNTY FARMER ROBBED A New York man and a Pennsylvania man recently turned a neat trick on a Buncombe County farmer. In February and March when broilers were bringing about a dollar a pound they came down here and slipped away with all the dollars from the big hotels and hospitals right under the Buncombe farmer's nose. The Buncombe County farmer did not realize he was being robbed. He acted as if he was sandbagged; he was not conscious of his loss.14 �256 We Plow God's Fields Thanks to the Federation, the leaks and the thefts began to subside. By November 1921, a second warehouse was built on the other side of Asheville, beside the railroad tracks at Craggy. By January 1922, the farmers of North Buncombe had rented their own warehouse at Stony Knob. Each of these efforts required an enormous amount of groundwork by Jim McClure. He had to organize the stock sales, set up the meetings, and keep everyone's enthusiasm from sagging. He had a genius for organizing meetings, mixing enough entertainment to bring the crowds out with enough hard facts to get his message across. He showed movies and stereopticon pictures. At one open meeting held in Fairview in the summer of 1921, a leading citizen of the community, Federation director John Baxter Merrill, was put on trial for (1) Putting in a bushel of undersized potatoes on a Federation contract; (2) Selling the Federation truck one ounce of buttermilk in a pound of butter; (3) Selling the truck an egg with age on it.15 Nearly 1,000 people turned out to see this mock trial.16 During one of these early meetings Jim McClure brought in his first string band, and ever afterwards he knew that there was nothing like the sound of the banjo and the fiddle to bring together the mountain folks. Guy Sales, who came to work for the Federation during the summer of 1922, recalls this first Federation string band. About twenty-five farmers were gathered in downtown Asheville, and Jim McClure asked young Sales if he knew of any music that could be brought in quickly. Across the street was a drinking and gambling establishment, and Guy replied that he thought there were some musicians inside. The teetotaling Presbyterian minister did not hesitate; he wanted musicians, sober or drunk. Guy Sales found his men inside, engrossed in a poker game, and talked them into coming to the meeting. "But you'll have to wait til we're done with this game," they said.17 Jim McClure could always feel the pulse of a crowd. To his sister he wrote: The interest in the meetings has been rolling up like a snowball and we have been accumulating performances until we are putting on as fine a show as the rural districts have ever had. We have a five piece string orchestra which accompanies us, a moving picture outfit and a Delco Light plant and such worthies as the Chairman of the County Commissioners and other politicians have joined our moving caravan. The crowds turn out at every point, the string band alone being enough to draw the crowd. One more meeting remains and then the wee small hours will know us no more. (James G. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, February 25, 1922) The entertainment was a crucial element in the education of the mountaineer. Jim explained his methods as part of a slide presentation on the Federation: We have some subjects to talk about with our farmers that are very dull in many points of view, like spraying. When a farmer has worked all day in the fields, and particularly when he can't read and write, a lecture on spraying is pretty tough on him. It is hard to get them to come out to a lecture on spraying and if they do come, most of them fall asleep. So we decided to give subjects �The Farmers Federation 257 of that type with the aid of clowns. We have the Farmers Federation clowns. We always have the old-fashioned fiddling and people come out to the meetings. This clown here [he is showing slides] is the superintendent of the State Test Farm. He can shout out a spray formula at the top of his lungs about forty times during the evening. We are getting them sold on the idea of spraying. There is the opportunity to get away with a lot of jokes, which make a hit. The clowns will come on with a hand-spraying machine and one of the clowns will take another's hat off and pick up a large bug from under the hat and spray it and it will drop dead on the floor. A few jokes like that popularize the idea of spraying.18 Could the Farmers Federation survive as a business? Trying to raise capital from struggling farmers in order to sell their crops in a sagging market might seem to be a foolish waste of time. Yet each year, the Federation sent out to its stockholders, both preferred and common, dividends of 6 percent. Most years, members were also paid a dividend of 5 percent of the amount of business they did with the Federation. But the Federation was cramped by the problem of how to raise money for capital improvements. For several years Jim convinced the membership to allow the Federation to keep the 5 percent dividend on business, in order to build up financial strength. Teaching men to vote against money in their pockets was not easy. Yet even these measures provided only meager funds. In the summer of 1921 Jim and Elizabeth were in New York, and he asked the Russell Sage Foundation for money to help the Farmers Federation expand. The request was turned down. In November, the Federation faced a severe financial crisis. Jim notes in his diary that he and Elizabeth went into town together in the pouring rain to meet with Church Crowell, an active director. "... [H]ad to get $2000 more for Fed & felt bank closing in on us. Do not know where next cash will come from. Met at Proffitts [early leader who helped to edit the Federation News] at 11— Lunch with . . . Dr. Grove [who] took 2 shares... ,"19 Dr. Grove was the builder of the Grove Park Inn, and a millionaire from the profits of his patent medicine tonic, Fletcher's Castoria. He became an enormous supporter of the Federation in this early period, but his two share purchase on this occasion put only a small dent in the $2,000 debt. So three days later Jim McClure went back to the bank, and drew a rather humorous picture of himself seeking out a loan. "Dressed up in old black suit, with a shine, & jaunty air entered the Bank and breezed thru an interview securing promise of a line [of credit] to 15000 [dollars] with Battery Park [Bank]."20 Next he tried to talk Buncombe's wealthiest citizen, Mrs. George Vanderbilt, into donating to the Federation. The entry for July 8, 1921, reads: "Fruitless call on Dr. Wheeler hoping for entree to Mrs. Vanderbilt for $2000.00 "21 How he got an introduction is unknown, but in October he made this entry in the diary: "Petsie and I to town, shopping about. At 4:30 with quavering hearts slipped thru the Vanderbilt gateway . . . Stopping in front of Mrs. V's we made a pass at the main entrance, which was �258 We Plow God's Fields barred, & doubled barred. Retrieving ourselves we rang at the proper place . . . Entering had a very pleasant tea with Mrs. V. & Cornelia [her daughter], holding our own... ,"22 This was the beginning of Mrs. Vanderbilt's considerable interest in the Farmers Federation. Jim McClure quickly realized that the Farmers Federation would never be able to satisfy his visions for Western North Carolina if he relied only on the money of the farmers themselves. The Federation's first task was to try to renovate the economy of the region, but that was only to provide a sound basis to build up other areas of life. The educational system of the mountains was woefully inadequate, and would remain so until there was a tax base from which to draw and people who properly appreciated the importance of the endeavor. He supported vocational education in the high schools, and wanted to set up his own Federation Training School that would give promising young farm boys some technical training. He worried about the little country churches, too. He saw them propagating ignorance, fear and superstition; in short, a blighted vision of the possibilities of life. Hymn books, preacher's salaries, Sunday School literature and building repairs were almost always beyond the means of the little congregations. Jim McClure felt strongly that the cornerstone of American civilization was the little country church. When these churches suffered, the American dream of freedom and prosperity took on a tarnished look. So in the back of his mind he wanted to work out a scheme to strengthen the religious institutions of Western North Carolina. Moreover, he wanted to be able to test new crops and procedures, to try out ideas to see if they might fit into mountain agriculture. But none of these visions could be realized without outside money, and in fact he was strapped even to pay the promotional expenses involved in the geographical spread of the Federation. In March 1922, he made a loud plea in the News for financial help. "Wanted: A Promotional Fund! Requests are coming in to the Federation from other sections and counties to come and help them organize. We have to reply that we cannot do it as we have no one to send."23 Jim had some success building support in Asheville by the sale of stock. His early contact with Dr. E. W. Grove bore fruit when, in the summer of 1922, Dr. Grove offered to buy $5,000 in stock if $15,000 worth of the same could be sold in Asheville. "He thinks Asheville should be aroused to helping the Federation get financed and so made the offer. We already have $20,000 paid in but the more it [the Federation] grows the more capital we need" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, July 2, 1922). The next issue of the News announced the proposition, and quoted the letter Dr. Grove had written to Jim McClure: "This is an investment that promises to pay dividends not only in the form of interest, but in the form of the development of the life of Western North Carolina."24 In the next issue, Jim could proudly announce that "Asheville clinches Dr. Grove's offer. In three weeks from its opening the campaign to sell Federation stock in Asheville closed, having been oversubscribed $1900. Thus the provision on Dr. Grove's offer to take $5,000 worth of stock has been �The Farmers Federation 259 met, and the working capital of the Federation doubled."25 The next year Dr. Grove made the same offer, and the goal was met in only three days. Clearly, Jim McClure had won the faith of the local business community. Then in 1925, Dr. Grove again made an offer, this time $25,000 if the community would take $75,000 worth of stock, an enormous sum that would give the Federation great strength. Jim McClure threw himself into the campaign to raise money, lining up some of the influential citizens of Asheville, and doing joyous battle. The results were astounding and thrilling for Jim McClure. " . . . [I]t is something out of the ordinary for a community to contribute over $165,000 to an undertaking where the returns will be largely measured in improvement of rural life, encouragement of better farming methods and good-will between farmer and city dweller."26 The good will of the Federation drew in Mrs. George Vanderbilt as well, and the McClures came to enjoy the festivities of the Biltmore House after the trepidations of their first visit. Mrs. Vanderbilt was intensely interested in farming, and as early as 1922 was commended by the News for her financial support of the County Extension service.27 At about the same time, she and Jim appeared at the podium of the Civitan Club, one of Asheville's leading civic clubs, with the Federation's own Mr. Clay of Fairview, for a farmers' luncheon. In a letter to his sister Hetty, Jim described the event as "quite an affair. The Asheville businessmen each asked a farmer to attend. Mr. Clay led off the batting list and made a tremendous hit by telling an apt story and ending up in three minutes. Mrs. Vanderbilt attended the luncheon and followed me up, being given the fourth or clean up position on the batting list" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, May 14, 1922). Her batting record is left incomplete, but she in fact became one of the Federation's principal local supporters, buying quantities of stock and encouraging her own Biltmore Dairy to join up. Jim's sister Hetty and her husband Douglas Stuart were contributors during these crucial years. In response to a contribution, Jim wrote to Hetty: "You are a brick-the letter with $300 enclosed was received with the wildest acclamations. The Federation will have to raise a statue to the Stuart family" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, May 14, 1922). Douglas Stuart was an executive for Quaker Oats Company, and helped the Federation by providing them with feed at a reasonable rate. Moreover, he sent down a variety of experts to help educate the mountain farmer. On one such occasion, this report appeared in a letter to the Stuarts: We have had with us during the past week the celebrated expert of the Quaker Oats Company, Mrs. Florence Forbes, and we have kept her busy with meetings afternoon and night and demonstrations during the morning hours. The Quaker Oats Company furnished moving pictures exposing all the inner secrets of the poultry kingdom and placing the modest, unsuspecting hen entirely in the power of the onlooker. The hens in this country from now on will have to forswear their life of ease and get down to Full-O-Pep and shelling out the hard boiled egg. �260 We Plow God's Fields For these meetings the Federation provided a string orchestra that made the most staid citizens and matrons shuffle an involuntary foot. The week is always a little wearing on the participants. My good wife if she attends any meetings after the first has acquired a nasty habit of falling asleep and losing control of her center of gravity. This necessitates a body guard who constantly shoves her back into an upright position. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, April 20, 1922) Through these early years, Jim kept his sister and brother-in-law informed on the progress of the Federation, and through these letters one can read some of his thoughts and a great deal of his enthusiasm. The Federation announced its dividend for the year 1921 . . . We had a good year and will pay 6% on paid up stock and 5% on business done. This is quite a dividend and everyone is pleased. We also will add about 1500 dollars to our surplus fund. Our business keeps growing at a good pace and with our third warehouse opening up in a few days it keeps us moving lively. Our main difficulty is lack of capital as with almost all joiners coming in on the ten dollar down plan the total is not large. Our volume of business is quite large for the amount of capital we have, and I am trying to invent some way of increasing our working capital. So endeth this chronicle and with love to each and every member unto the third or fourth generation. . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February 19, 1922) The Federation is still growing and leading us a merry dance. Our great and crying need is for more capital and yesterday we were all elated because $840.00 came in. Every Saturday the solicitors report their success during the week and $840 is our high water mark . .. We are now turning over our capital twice a month and this takes frenzied finance as well as all our capital is tied up in buildings and equipment. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, March 19, 1922) The Federation keeps moving along and yesterday we indulged in a Reo speed wagon. This makes our delivery equipment consist of a ton and a half truck, a one ton speed wagon, a one ton Ford truck, a half ton Ford truck and a Ford passenger car. On Thursday I addressed a great and high spirited crowd of Rotarians and received a free lunch for my efforts, which is more than I have received for my vocal efforts in many a long day. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, May 21, 1922) . . . The Federation keeps coming along strong though I hear that at any time the tide may set in the other direction and I may be run out of the county. The populace are very fickle. Yesterday our 600th stockholder plunked his money down. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, July 23, 1922) Those who have recently been among us will be interested to know that we had our proposed meeting of the Federation on Friday and authorized an issue �The Farmers Federation 261 of $500,000 Common stock and $250,000 Preferred, the first issue of $50,000 Common Stock being already subscribed. The same evening a meeting was held at Mills River, which is one of the sections contributory to Fletcher and the people decided to erect a warehouse at Fletcher . . . The redoubtable Mr. Crowell will move his seat of operations to Fletcher next Monday and start to burn up the country. The Federation now has a balance in banks of over ten thousand and bank presidents openly flirt with it. This bank account will soon be raided by the Q[uaker] 0[ats] Company who takes our money as fast as we gather it together. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, August 27, 1922) The opening of the Federation Warehouse at Fletcher on Wednesday was a conspicuous success. All County officials from both Henderson and Buncombe Counties were present and a big crowd of ordinary citizens. The affair went off peaceably. A car of Quaker Oats Feed arrived the day before the opening and the sacks made excellent seats for those who drank in the flow of Southern oratory. Fourteen speakers mounted the rostrum, seven before dinner and seven after dinner, and seldom has such a feast of wit, wisdom and exhortation been poured upon an audience. The crowd, replete and somewhat jaded broke up about four thirty. The capacity of the mountain farmer for successfully absorbing hot air is only equaled in the annals of America by the attendants at the early camp meetings where three and four hour sermons were successfully weathered before and after dinner. The crowd here breaks up, looking slightly gassed and with somewhat sagged jaws but otherwise apparently none the worse.. .. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 21, 1923) Jim's jaws may have sagged a bit that week too when his hustle was foiled by Asheville's new "speed officer." The week has seen me caught in the toils of the law. The attached clipping will explain one fall from grace. ("McCLURE TAXED BY NETTLES LAW: HIS HURRY COSTS HIM HEAVY FINE James G. K. McClure, famous in Farmers Federation circles, is a hustler. But his hurry cost him in the neighborhood of $60 today when he ran afoul of the enactment of that other friend of the farmers, Harry L. Nettles, chosen from the rural precincts to give the agriculturists an even break in the state's legislative halls. McClure is the second man to be brought before Judge Wells under the Nettles Act . . . for speeding on Biltmore Avenue. The farmers' organizer has a boy's band, of which he is particularly proud, under his direction. He was anxious Tuesday afternoon to transport the juvenile musicians from one part of the county to another and he made no denial of that fact when arraigned. He thought he was going about 40 miles an hour when Lawrence Trexler, speed officer, drove his motorcycle behind him and trailed him . . . The policeman was sure 50 miles was the registration. Regardless of who was nearer right as to the speed's computation, the Nettles bill was broken, and Judge Wells announced there was but one thing for him to do: Impose a fine of between $50 and $500 for going over 30 miles an hour . . . there was no indication that any lives were endangered by McClure's driving.") The others were two suits instituted by a woman who lost her head and ran into one of the Federation trucks. I was served with �•', �The Farmers Federation 263 papers on two counts by this woman and had to wage legal war before the magistrate. Our truck was not in the least to blame but in spite of this judgement was found against us on both counts ... Tomorrow I start on a flying trip to St. Petersburg, Florida to have an interview with Dr. Grove [who was helping arrange financing for the growing Federation] (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February 18,1923) The week of the Quarterly meetings is a fearful thing. One of our number seems to fall from grace every round. Last time I had my police court experience and this time our fiddler had the misfortune to get in a fight and sentence was imposed on him for three months on the chain gang . . . However in spite of this occurrence the round was a howling success. Crowds attended our meetings everywhere, local jokes were developed and a spirit of great jollity prevailed... My muffler dropped off last night and I came home at 1:30 a.m., the car roaring like a lion. All along the road people moved uneasily in their beds thinking that Rumbling Bald (a local mountain known to experience earthquake tremors) had "broke out" again. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, May 20, 1923) Clearly, with all of the work Jim McClure faced he loved the Federation and the mountain families it served. On a daily basis, however, the success of the Federation depended on each warehouse, and how well each manager treated his customers and ran his business. In the mountains, a man or woman would "trade" with the store where he or she felt at ease and welcomed. Customers felt strong loyalties to their shopkeepers, and often if a man left one store to work in another, he took those loyal to him along. Jim McClure quickly grasped these mountain habits, and tried to supply his warehouses with men not only capable of running an efficient operation, but also with personalities that attracted customers. The old Fairview siding was his first experience in learning how to manage a successful store, and several suggestions survive from notes he sent to R. T. Merrill, the manager there and the first employee of the Farmers Federation. Private Attention R. T. Merrill Suggestions: for use in running the Business. (1) Spend some time in studying how to organize the force to best advantage. Give certain men certain responsibilities, i.e. one man to sweep up the first thing every morning, another man the responsibility for the outside picking up, another man the duties of shipping clerk, etc. (2) Make a list of wet day and slack time jobs such as sewing up torn sacks; putting up Growing Mash in ten pound packages etc ... (5) Keep lists of everything. By this I mean lists of those who want lime, potatoes, prospects for stockholders, growers of vegetables etc. Our business has reached the stage where it has outgrown the Opposite: Directors of the Farmers Federation, 1923-1924. Left to right: S.C. Clapp, director; G.L. Clay, Secretary-Treasurer, James G.K. McClure, Jr., pres.; R.C. Crowell, vice pres.; Claude B. Wells, director. �264 We Plow God's Fields possibilities of the memory and we will have to make more and more use of lists.28 Ride hard after old collections and get security or something for the accounts . . . Keep the clerks on their toes . . . Put up signs to help move things.29 One of the most successful store managers in the Federation system was Bill Francis, who took over the Hendersonville warehouse. His affability was a sure drawing card, and he remembers with fondness the men swapping stories around his pot-bellied stove, leaning over from time to time to "let fly" with a perfectly aimed projectile of tobacco juice into his sand pit. He understood well that the Federation store had to serve a social role, or fail altogether as an enterprise. On the business side, he recalled that managing debt was always difficult. The nature of agriculture includes borrowing on supplies, seed, tools and machinery in the spring with the promise to pay when the harvests came in next fall. To the credit of the mountain farmers, despite the long periods of hard times, Bill Francis never had much trouble collecting his debts. "I did have to go in early to work for a while and milk a herd of cows grazing out behind the store, when a man failed to pay up." Bill Francis remembers his first store in Tryon, organized to serve Polk County. "The back of Polk" has always been a producer of moonshine, and he recalls the big selling items there were sugar, shorts and yeast. To serve his customers, "we would deliver in the middle of the night to keep out of the Revenue Officer's way."30 The Hendersonville stock drive began in the spring of 1924, and when the new warehouse was completed it meant that the Farmers Federation had six warehouses located throughout the two most prosperous mountain counties, Henderson and Buncombe. All were built in four years by money raised locally, during an era of depressed farm prices. The Hendersonville News stood behind the drive, cajoling the local businessmen to support the enterprise. The financing of the Farmers Federation appears to be on the last lap of its journey in Hendersonville. The businessmen let the farmer get the jump on them and it was difficult to catch up. The campaign and the Federation should serve to knit businessmen and farmers, the city and county, closer together. For years we have heard Hendersonville civic bodies discuss ways and means of helping the farmer. The first real opportunity has arrived and Hendersonville though slow to move has measured fairly well up to the most singular opportunity ever presented it. Our efforts will give the farmer more confidence in us. He has been shown that the businessmen have his problems at heart. But we must not pose as philanthropists. We have given the farmer nothing. We have made no real sacrifices. We have helped him on his journey to more profitable agriculture but in this we could assume a very selfish attitude, knowing that when the farmer has money to spend the business man is to get a good share of it. �The Farmers Federation 265 Top: Fairview Warehouse of the Farmer's Federation; Bottom: Early Federation truck hauling milk and cream. �266 We Plow God's Fields Next comes the opportunity of the farmer to produce more with assurance of better markets. The time has come for him to change his ways, plant and cultivate more scientifically and use both county agent and Federation to every possible advantage.31 Hendersonville proved to be a strong link in the Federation chain, and by 1925 James McClure could boast a total sales of nearly a million dollars a year. The fifth anniversary issue of the Federation News, August 1925, told of the rise of the Federation in an article by an admirer. And so the rise of the Farmers Federation reads like a fairy story. Just five years ago the organization was a small group of neighboring farmers in Fairview township. Today the Federation is the progressive farmer element of Henderson and Buncombe Counties. . . . Madison, Jackson, McDowell and Haywood counties may soon feel the touch of the Federation. The rapid growth and development of the Farmers Federation owes much to its guiding spirit. In fact, the tireless efforts, the sacrifices and steady nerve of James G. K. McClure, Jr., have weathered the ship over rough seas to easy sailing. In the handful of farmers at Fairview, five years ago, Mr. McClure was the guiding spirit. Today and every day since the first handful of farmers cast their lots together, he has had his strong hand at the wheel.32 On the front page of this issue was a picture of "The six-story fireproof warehouse on Roberts Street, Asheville." It was here that the Federation sought security behind walls of steel and concrete . . . now housing the marketing department, the executive offices, the Federation News office and the poultry department. This modern building costing around $75,000 has become Asheville's trade center for the farmer. On busy days trucks and wagons line the street for some distance on either side of the Federation building. At one time during the tomato season in 1924 so many farmers brought their tomatoes to the Federation at one time that traffic became hopelessly blocked for over an hour, and it required a traffic officer to straighten out the traffic.33 Jim McClure was very proud of this building, a tangible result of his unselfish devotion to his vision. He went to Roberts Street every day. In some of the excess warehouse space, he stored his wife's very soul, all of her finest paintings. Aunt Frederika's priceless furniture and family heirlooms were all on Roberts Street, protected from catastrophe by steel and concrete. The third morning after Christmas 1925, the weather in Western North Carolina was a bitterly cold O° F. Those who braved the elements to obtain a morning paper were greeted with large headlines across the front page. "HALF �The Farmers Federation 267 MILLION DOLLAR FIRE IN DEPOT SECTION. Farm Federation and Three Other Buildings Are Complete Losses. Wintry Weather Handicaps Force of Firefighters," The article continued, " . . . The Farmers Federation . . . also lost heavily, several carloads of beans, much poultry and several hundred turkeys being burned .. ,"34 The next week, Jim wrote to Hetty and Doug: . . . We have been through quite a week. Last Sunday morning word was brought that the Marketing Department was burning down, and on rushing in to Asheville I found the condition of affairs that is shown in the attached newspaper... As good luck would have it we were buying out the wholesale produce business of Hayes-McCormack on Jan. 1st. These people were one of the largest wholesale concerns here. I got hold of them last Sunday afternoon and arranged to take over their stock and building Monday morning so that we were open for business with a fairly complete line at seven o'clock Monday morning and we have done over $5,000.00 worth of business this week at our new quarters. We could not get to our safes until Friday afternoon, as the wreckage kept burning and was badly piled together. The safe from my office we found with one side out from its fall and everything burned completely up. The office safe was intact but when opened everything in it was so charred as to be practically undecipherable. My safe contained the records of the stockholders, now over two thousand and also the subscription cards from our last summer's drive . . . You can imagine what a mess it will be to adjust. The worst personal feature of the loss was Aunt Freddie's furniture, every bit of which was stored in the warehouse and every bit of which was destroyed. This included all the portraits, letters, laces, papers, trunks and furniture of every kind. It is almost incredible to find no mention of the loss of Elizabeth's paintings. It speaks to the kind of person she was. Certainly she made an immediate decision to say nothing about her private loss. Jim continued to Hetty and Doug: We had a total of $46,500.00 Insurance which has been admitted by the Adjuster . . . We had a considerably higher proportion of insurance than the owners or occupants of the other buildings, as every one had considered the building semi-fire-proof and thought that even if a fire started it would not go far without being controlled. The insurance companies had just made us another cut in our rate a few weeks ago. The loss will be a heavy one but we will try to win it back in a couple of years. We had a Directors meeting yesterday and decided to rebuild at once (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 3, 1926) Never a mention was made by Elizabeth of a loss so personal that her inner grief must have touched her deepest chords of despair. �268 We Plow God's Fields Dearest Hetty, . . . Poor Jim is simply engulfed in affairs. The fire was a horrid blow as everything was running so smoothly & of course this means months of bother and extra work. Nobody understands what in the world caused the fire as there were only a few coals in the furnace when they left the building on Saturday but that night was a fearfully cold one & there was a terrible wind, so much so that the wretched watchman whose job it was to patrol the building every hour never appeared at all! If he had been on the job, of course it would never have gained headway . . . However, the Federation opened up promptly on Monday morning not having lost an hour of business & has been going at their usual full steam ahead ever since with more business than ever before. None of the other three burned-out concerns have done a single stroke since the fire . . . (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 8, 1926) Jim McClure was deservedly proud of the ability of the Federation to reopen the day after this terrible burn-out of the central warehouse; adversity never numbed him, but always stimulated his energies and boosted his determination. The probable cause of the fire was determined to be bananas. In the basement there was a room with straw on the floor where all the bananas were stored, and kerosene stoves were used to keep this area between 75°F.and 80°F. in order for them to ripen properly.35 The Federation recovered rapidly, and by the beginning of the Depression, had strengthened itself for the economic doldrums to come. By its tenth anniversary in August 1930, the cooperative could boast a growth in the poultry business from $5,000 annual return the first few years to more than half a million dollars.36 The first chickens were boiled in an old black pot in front of the Fairview Warehouse. By 1930, a special railroad car moved through Western North Carolina, stopping at regular intervals to purchase poultry. In a later speech in New York, Jim McClure recalled the early effort of the Federation to create a poultry market in the mountains using a railroad car. .. . We ran the enterprise at a loss for three years because the tonnage was never great enough to make the car pay . . . We had a great deal of excitement working up interest in the first car we shipped. We went all through the mountains and held meetings and the car was ordered and the farmers at each station brought in their poultry and finally the car was started rolling to New York. Well, I don't know whether you gentlemen know the poultry business in New York. It was my first experience with it. We shipped the car up here and about three days later the telephone rang and I thought static had broken loose all the way from Asheville to New York. I have never heard a more excited telephone conversation in my life than there was on the other end. This gentleman assured me—I could see his hands moving—that this was the worst car of poultry he had ever seen, there had never been anything like it come to New York, it was just terrible . . . I looked into the matter and I found that our people, who have much sporting blood, had taken this opportunity to get rid �The Farmers Federation 269 of their defeated game roosters and other poultry of that kind. Now, the game rooster is not a particularly toothsome thing to serve on the dinner table.37 More "toothsome" were the vegetables grown and canned in Henderson County. Jim McClure reasoned that the only way to encourage farmers to grow vegetables on a commercial level was to be able to assure them that the Federation could buy all that they grew. The only way that assurance could be made was to set up a cannery, so that the vegetables could be preserved during slack marketing times. In the early years, canning apparatus was fitted onto a truck and driven to the various farms. The rig was given by Henry Ford and stimulated such production, especially of tomatoes, that a large-scale, permanent cannery was eventually built by the Federation. Henderson County became well known for produce, even to the present day. The cannery could not pay a high price, but it could accept an unlimited quantity. Jim explained in the News that the farmers had learned it was "better to sell 1000 bushels of tomatoes for 600 per bushel than 10 bushels at $1.50."38 He always hoped to be able to supply Florida with tomatoes during the late summer, and Bill Francis remembers once, when he was managing the Hendersonville warehouse, being sent south with a load of two hundred bushels of green tomatoes. He recalls with a laugh travelling up and down the state looking for a buyer. Even in the hot Florida sun those tomatoes would not turn red.39 The Federation continued to push for sales of its original concern, the Irish potato, and added the sweet potato as a sideline. Irish potatoes were rolling out of the mountains by the train load, and by 1930 Jim McClure could claim that the Federation had paid out over $600,000 for that humble tuber. Down in Rutherford County, where sweet potatoes were perfectly adapted to the soil and climate, the Federation built a curing plant to keep them off the market at harvest time in order to enjoy better prices during the winter. This experiment was a successful venture of the Federation and sweet potatoes proved to be a wonderful cash crop for the farmers of that section of the mountains. Apples, corn, wheat, mountain rye, and almost anything else the farmers could raise were sold by the Federation, and simultaneously the men and women of the North Carolina mountains were learning scientific agriculture and good citizenship. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, a flue-cured, yellow leaf tobacco, used primarily to wrap cigars, enjoyed many boom years. Asheville became a large tobacco marketing center, and warehouses sprang up along with curing facilities and small processing factories. But during the 1890s the demand petered out. Jim McClure knew that in Kentucky burley tobacco had become a fine cash crop, and he reasoned that his mountain farmers could do as well. Jim got experts from the Department of Agriculture to analyze the area. They found it was well suited for tobacco. In 1926 he began promoting the idea, and 4,500 acres of mountain land were devoted to the "noxious weed" by 1930. Most of it was grown in Madison County, where the land was so rugged little else could be raised profitably. In 1930, the directors of the Federation voted �270 We Plow God's Fields Mountain farmer with his tobacco. (McClure Fund Photograph Collection.) to raise $2,500 to build a tobacco warehouse in Asheville. This building made money for the Federation in the years to come, and burley tobacco has been the most dependable cash crop in Western North Carolina ever since. The more the Federation rolled along, gathering momentum, the more new projects Jim McClure's fertile imagination conceived for the region. But there was just not enough investment capital locally to finance them all. In 1927 he began to fit into the puzzle of the Federation the final pieces of his organizational scheme. It occurred to him that the people he had left behind to come to the southern mountains, the wealthy men and women of the northeastern cities, would be interested in the plight of the mountain men and women. He was a member in good standing of an American elite that controlled the strings of a capacious purse. Moreover, he knew the minds of those men and women, their prejudices and their ideals. He possessed the personality, the sincerity, the speaking ability and the handsome features to present the problems of the people he was trying to help in a most appealing way. He hit on exactly the right phrase for these men of the business world who valued independence and individualism—"Helping the mountain farmer to help himself." Jim McClure would draw �The Farmers Federation 271 together people with his charm and wit, with his genuine concern for his mountain neighbors and with his gift as a speaker. With a little book to note pledges, he would head off for the cities of the North each fall. The "campaign" was a battle plan for altruism. In time, his skill at raising money gave him the freedom to pursue many of his more expansive ideas to improve life in the mountains. That money, held today in the James G. K. McClure Educational and Development Fund, is still at work educating hundreds of mountain young people each year in technical institutes, nursing schools, colleges and universities throughout the state and helping rural ministers to further their education. The creation of this development fund must be considered one of Jim's great achievements. The "Educational and Development Fund of the Farmer's Federation, Inc." [the original name] was begun in 1927 to provide money to launch new ideas and programs. As he pursued this work Jim discovered, or was discovered by, a most remarkable man. Arthur W. Page, the son of the Ambassador to England, Walter Mines Page, came to Asheville to speak at the Rotary Club. His speech emphasized how important "cranks" were in pushing forward ideas and programs most thought unreasonable or impossible. After the address, Jim's friend Dr. W. P. Herbert went up to Mr. Page and said, "I know a 'crank' who thinks the mountain farm can make money." Off to Fairview went Arthur Page, and a partnership resulted that grew in strength in both personal friendship and good works accomplished. Arthur Page's father was a North Carolina native and journalist. Too progressive to be accepted in his home state at the end of the nineteenth century, he headed north, became editor of the Atlantic Monthly and was named Ambassador to England by President Woodrow Wilson. He worked vigorously for his vision of an Anglo-American position of world leadership, even trying to thwart President Wilson's neutrality rules prior to American intervention in World War I. He often wrote of the possibilities for the South. His book, The School That Built a Town, was an inspiration to Jim McClure, especially as it stressed the importance of giving a chance to the mountain woman. Nurtured by his father's ideas, Arthur Page felt strong ties to North Carolina and a strong conviction that America's purest population of AngloSaxons needed assistance to bring themselves more in line with the prosperity of the other brethren of their race. Back home in the mountains Jim McClure kept these money-raising efforts in the background. He never wanted to make his friends in the Federation feel that they were objects of some sort of charity. To those in the cooperative who knew about and appreciated what their president was doing on his trips it all seemed at times to be a new wrinkle on the old game of "skinning Yankees." Hendersonville manager Bill Francis laughs and gives what was no doubt the prevailing potbellied stove opinion in his store, when he said that Jim McClure would take "two or three of these cross-eyed boys, a banjo or two, and come back with thousands of dollars."40 One of his first fund-raising efforts took place in the ballroom of the Colony �WHAT WE ARE DOING ABOUT THAT MOUNTAIN FARM PRELIMINARY 1928 REPORT EDUCATIONAL AND DEVELOPMENT FUND OF THE FARMERS FEDERATION ASHEVILLE, N. C. DECEMBER FIRST - 1928 �NEW YORK-COMMITTEE A NEW YORK COMMITTEE COOPERATING WITH AN ORGANIZATION OF MOUNTAIN FARMERS OF NORTH CAROLINA ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. American Telegraph & Telephone Company - Chairman MORTIMER N. BUCKNER, Chairman - The New York Trust oiaMfcCo., Treasurer JAMES T. BRYAN, Logan & Bryan GEORGE ADEE, Reynolds Fish & Co. MAGNUS W. ALEXANDER, Chairman - National Industrial Conference Board HERBERT L. BODMAN, Milminc, Bodman & Co. PIERPONT V. DAVIS, Vice-Pres. National City Co. FAIRMAN DICK, Roosevelt & Sons W. W. FLOWERS, Vice-Pres. Liggett & Meyers Tobacco Co. F. B. KEECH, F. B. Keech & Co. R. H. KRESS, Treas. S. H. Kress & Co. DEVEREUX MILBURN, Carter, Ledyard & Milburn WHEELER McMILLAN, Crowell Publishing Co. HAROLD PHELPS STOKES, New York Times LANSING P. REED, Davis, Polk, Wardwell, Gardiner & Reed FOSTER H. ROCKWELL, Smith, Graham & Rockwell JOHN SLOANE, W. and J. Sloane THOMAS J. WATSON, International Business Machines Corporation VANDERBILT WEBB, Webb, Paterson & Hadley B. F. YOAKUM, Chairman - Empire Bond & Mortgage Corporation MRS. HENRY P. DAVISON Chairman Women's Committee TRUSTEES OF THE EDUCATIONAL AND DEVELOPMENT FUND ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-President American Telegraph & Telephone Co., 105 Broadway, New York City. MORTIMER N. BUCKNER, Chairman of the Board, The New York Trust Co., New York City. J. G. STIKELEATHER. Member North Carolina State Highway Commission. Asheville, N. C. JAMES G. K. McCLURE, Jr., President Farmers Federation, Inc.. Asheville, N. C. GEORGE STEPHENS, Publisher, Asheville, N. C. Contributions to this fund are used in the Educational & Development Work necessary to the building up of permanent agricultural industries in the mountains. Make checks payable to Mortimer N. Buckner, Treasurer, 100 Broadway. For information write to James G. K. McClure, Jr., Asheville, N. C. �274 We Plow God's Fields Club in New York City. The announcement read: "The New York Womens Committee of the Farmers Federation of North Carolina cordially invites you to spend an afternoon with the North Carolina Mountaineers." Ballads were heard, and a movie shown with the unlikely title "Stark Love." The invitation contains sketches of the popular symbols of mountain life: a log cabin, a spinning wheel, the long Kentucky rifle and an old grist mill. The sketch of a wild boar seems to be stalking the names of the women listed inside, names familiar in American history for their power and influence: Roosevelt, Vanderbilt, Coffin, Gerry, Root and, of course, Page. Mrs. Henry P. Davison was the original chairman. She worked tirelessly to help Jim raise money for many years. By 1928, she won publicity in all of New York's major newspapers, and "Stark Love" was replaced by the live drama of a Miss Lucile Laverne. The Evening Post described the centerpiece of that year's campaign: Mrs. Henry P. Davison, whose time is taken up almost entirely by multitudinous charities, of which the general public has no conception, heads the women's committee of the educational and development fund for the Farmers Federation . . . which is sponsoring the revival of "Sun-up," the play of the Southern mountaineers, at the new Lucile Theatre . .. The first two performances . .. will be special benefits. Miss La Verne, who has become deeply interested in the lives of the mountaineers, will give a large share of the profits of the engagement to further the constructive work that is being done. Mr. James G. K. McClure, Jr. president of the Farmers Federation, Inc., has been in New York some weeks engaged in the undertaking of raising funds to develop the tremendous possibilities of the agricultural resources of the Southern mountains and is meeting cordial interest. There are 450,000 of the finest pioneer stock of America living in the mountains of North Carolina and yet their standard of living is today probably lower than that of any similar group of people in the United States. The Farmer's Federation, an organization of mountain farmers, started seven years ago with the purpose of changing this condition by means of finding and creating markets. Limited in its finances, this organization is pointing the way, but cannot as yet take care of the situation.41 The revival of "Sun-up" was a smash hit, and helps to point out the fascination felt in the North for the folk of Appalachia. One reviewer, Pierre de Rohan, described the show: MISS LA VERNE SUBLIME IN 'SUN UP' REVIVAL Set in the backwoods fastness of the Carolina hills, the play turns its searching spotlight on the households of the Widow Cagel, her son Rufe and their neighbors, the Todds. Widowed by a revenue officer's bullet, Mom Cagel is a sworn enemy of the law, and is puzzled and resentful at Rufe's willingness to obey the ukase of a draft board. Previous pages: Early promotional material for the Educational and Development Fund. �The Farmers Federation 275 But Rufe has had 'larnin.' He can read a little, and write after a fashion. Of course, he believes France is 'somers 'bout 40 miles t'other side of Asheville,' and that * Huns' is but a nickname for the Yankees his father fought against in '63. . . .42 New York had its own vision of mountain life, and Jim McClure found enough worthy people there to listen to him, and contribute to the Fund. He could tell stories and entertain his contributors with tales of the mountaineer. The Fund spread to other cities: Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Detroit. His own enjoyment of the "victories" of the campaign show through often enough, as he kept his family informed of his movements. To Hetty he wrote, "Well-my dear-I have had good luck this day-the engagement with Edsel Ford which I lost by staying that extra day in Chicago I had almost despaired of as he has been in New York . . . , but I saw him today and he came on our committee & also subscribed $10,000.00. Doesn't that make you giddy?" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, exact date unknown). If Jim McClure ever allowed himself the opportunity to reflect back over the first ten years of the Federation, "giddy" would have been an appropriate emotion. Against all adversity—dismal farm prices, unscientific agricultural techniques, lack of working capital, an independent-minded population, transportation difficulties, and the disastrous fire on Roberts Street—he prevailed. By 1930, the Federation was financially strong and just beginning to tap resources in the North, and to expand operations into new areas of mountain life. Jim McClure's dream of ministering to a region rather than just a church had been fulfilled by the Farmers Federation, and with all of the hard work and responsibilities he shouldered his physical difficulties did not flare up again. The compensation Jim McClure received must have been spiritual, because for the first seven years he received no salary for his efforts and thereafter his pay was only nominal. He wanted to fight this war for the people, to serve the men and women of Western North Carolina. He once explained his ambitions in a speech to potential contributors in New York, and he never wandered from the purpose here expressed. "I am quite a crank, as I think you can see, on trying to develop people's self-help," he said. "I believe that the way to cure real want is to stir people's ambition and stir it with something definite in mind whereby they can really attain that ambition."43 And so it was that the Farmers Federation offered opportunity and hope to the farm families of Western North Carolina, and the sense of purpose for which Jim McClure himself had been striving. 1. John C. Campbell, The Southern Highlander and His Homeland (New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1921) p. 257. 2. James G. K. McClure, Jr., speech on the Farmers Federation given September 10, 1935. In "Proceedings of the New York Farmers, 1934-35 Season," New York, 1935, p. 9. �276 We Plow God's Fields 3. Interview with Miss Ora N. Nesbitt. 4. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Help Yourself," editorial, FairviewFarmers' News Sheet, July 15, 1920. 5. Selected passages from the Fairview Farmers' News Sheet, July 15, 1920. 6. Clarence Poe, How Farmers Co-operate and Double Profit (New York: Orange JuddCo., 1915), p.23. 7. Ibid., p. 62. 8. Ibid., p. 117. 9. Ibid., p. 129. 10. "Hammer the Farmer," Farmers Federation News Sheet, November 1920. 11. "Throw Away a Nickel Once in a While," Farmers Federation News Sheet, November 1920. 12. Headlines, Farmers Federation News, March 15, 1921. 13. "Mr. Buncombe County Farmer . . . ," Farmers Federation News, March 15, 1921. 14. "Buncombe County Farmer Robbed," Farmers Federation News, June 15, 1921. 15. Farmers Federation News, June 4, 1921. 16. Farmers Federation News, February 1922. 17. Interview with Mr. Guy Sales. 18. 0pC*f.,"New York Farmers," p. 15. 19. James G. K. McClure, Jr. diary, November 19, 1921. 20. Ibid., November 22, 1921. 21. Ibid., JulyS, 1921. 22. Ibid., October 13, 1921. 23. Farmers Federation News, March 1922, p. 4. 24. Farmers Federation News, August 1922, p. 1. 25. Farmers Federation News, September 1922, p. 4. 26. Farmers Federation News, October 1925, p. 4. 27. Farmers Federation News, June 1922. 28. James G. K. McClure, Jr., memo to R.T. Merrill, March 15, 1922. 29. James G. K. McClure, Jr., memo to R.T. Merrill, April 14, 1922. 30. Interview with Mr. Bill Francis. 31. Hendersonville News, March/April 1924 (exact date unknown). 32. Farmers Federation News, August 1925, p. 1. 33. Ibid., p. 6. 34. Asheville Citizen, December 28, 1925, p. 1. 35. Interview with Guy Sales. 36. Farmers Federation News, August 1930, p. 2. 37. Op Cit., New York Farmers, p. 10. 38. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Cannery Acreage Signing Up," Farmers Federation News, April 1930, p. 4. 39. Interview with Mr. Bill Francis. 40. Ibid. 41. "Mrs. H.P. Davison Heads Committee Sponsoring Benefit," New York Evening Post, October 15, 1928. 42. "Miss La Verne Sublime . . ." New York American, October 27, 1928. 43. Op Cit., New York Farmers, p. 16. �Chapter Fifteen Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties "... [I was] greatly surprised to have a Pierce Arrow appear in [the] barnyard." (Diary, October 29, 1920) "I ain't goin' to clean your young 'un's dirty britches no more." The parting words of a mountain neighbor as she left the employment of Elizabeth McClure. (Interview with Mrs. B. S. Colburn) The old Sherrill's Inn, perched just on the Buncombe County side of the Blue Ridge, enjoyed a renaissance during the twenties. Not only did Elizabeth and Jim continue to renovate the house and its environs, but they also brought in a new order of social life. Jim's Federation work made it an important focal point for various encounters and entertainments. For her part, Elizabeth joyfully pursued her vision of beauty. Flower borders, boxwood hedges, flowering shrubs, spring bulbs, grape arbors and John Shorter's vegetables all thrived under her caring eye and energetic hand. There was an upstairs maid and a downstairs maid, a cook and a nurse for the children, but Elizabeth herself was the flower gardener. She was not a harsh taskmaster, but the housework was to be done efficiently and correctly. She might put on a white glove looking for dust, even taking samples from the recently installed electric light bulbs. She considered her thoroughness to be an example to the mountain women working for her. Beyond the inner circle of house servants were the farm hands, many of whom lived in houses on the McClure property that had to be built and maintained. She wanted these simple frame structures to blend in with the rest of the buildings on the farm, and even went to the extent of a planned sag in the roof on a new tenant house to give it a look of age. The men, women and children who inhabited these dwellings were typically mountaineers without land, many of whom spent their lives moving from farm to farm with their large families. For Elizabeth, who possessed a kindly spirit of noblesse oblige, there were always births and measles and petty disagreements to sort out. She never wanted to appear condescending. A neighbor's comment, "I like Mrs. McClure. She's so common," startled Elizabeth, until she learned that "common" meant not putting oneself above anyone.1 But it was hard for her not to be appalled by many of the unhygienic habits common in the mountains. The patterns of life at Hickory Nut Cap were determined by the intermingling of two distinct and rather incongruous cultures. But the mix took hold in a wonderfully rich way, in part because the brittle formality of Lake Forest had 277 �278 We Plow God's Fields View ofMcClure home from the driveway. already been tempered by a strong dose of the Social Gospel. While the ways of the mountain people frequently exasperated Jim and Elizabeth, the reverse was just as true. What could fancy city folks know about farming and gardening in North Carolina anyway? Elizabeth's drive for perfection must have been viewed as frivolous by the more pragmatic tenants. Her standards had to be met, even if it left her laborers grumbling about the extra work. In fact, she quite admired her tough neighbors at Hickory Nut Gap, who knew how to make do with almost nothing; and in turn they came to admire her and her ways. Elizabeth became a vision of elegant civility to the farm women, at least most of them. Jim McClure relished the inevitable incongruities that popped up from time to time on his farm. He was a story teller, and took with him wherever he went an entertaining collection of anecdotes. These proved most useful in engaging the interests of his northern patrons. One of the real characters among the farm hands was Zeb McAbee, who never could quite make sense of the ways of the McClures. During the early years when help was plentiful, each afternoon, with guests or alone, Elizabeth had tea. She particularly liked to dress up for this ceremony; to bathe and put on a long gown to signal the end of the working day. One afternoon during her tea break, Zeb was sent up to the big house on business, and was rendered quite speechless by the appearance of Mrs. McClure. He returned to the barn shaking his head, and confided to one of the other hands, "I don't believe Mrs. McClure had quite finished dressin'."2 On another occasion, old Zeb came up to borrow some vinegar. Elizabeth asked �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 279 him, "Well Zeb, how much do you think you need?" He replied, "Oh, 'bout three or four gallon, I reckon'." "But Zeb, why so much?" "My old woman has got the rheumatiz, and I want to give her a bath."3 Whether the pickling of Mrs. McAbee was carried out or not, Jim and Elizabeth enjoyed learning about the country cures. Once in a while, an employee would turn on them seeking revenge, and then the humor was more macabre. For a short period of time during the twenties, Esther and John Shorter left Hickory Nut Gap to work their own land and care for Esther's mother Aura. Elizabeth struggled to find replacements for them. The position was a difficult one, not only because Esther and John had been so devoted, but also because it required that both a husband and wife work and live alongside Mr. and Mrs. McClure. One couple, the Babbs, were hired during this period and Elizabeth thought them quite suitable at first. She described them to Aunt Freddie as "... most promising. However one never knows and time will show but they seem very nice people and are most eager to please" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Frederika Skinner, May 14, 1923). Time did tell on the Babbs, and they had to be let go. A few weeks hence, complaints began to surface about the taste of the spring water piped into the house. An investigating party was organized, and found a dead sheep floating in the spring, a parting gift left by the Babbs.4 A more tragic story involved Emory McAbee and his family. Emory's farm was a losing battle, and about the only cash he raised was by "stilling" white corn liquor. Jim would sometimes get wind of one of Emory's operations back on his property, and try to search him out. In 1922, the revenue agents caught up with him, and he was subsequently thrown in jail. Jim took a special interest in the case, first going up to check on his wife and her children. On May 30th, he found "Mrs. Emory McAbee . . . with 4 children (oldest 8), two cows, molasses, corn meal for 3 days & flour for 6, and without one cent, facing a year without her husband."5 Emory worked through the summer on the chain gang, but was returned to his jail cell in the fall suffering from fits of insanity. Jim "visited Emory McAbee in his bleak, bare room at the Jail and found him out of his mind—Puzzled conference with [the] Commissioners as to what to do—"6 He served out his term, and was returned home still suffering spells of madness. He would get the idea that there was oil leaking out of the ground on Ferguson's Peak, the mountain behind the McClure's house, and every so often he would have a "fire fit" and set fire on the mountain in an effort to get rid of the oil. The newcomers to the country side of life never failed to respond to the local calamities around them. When Porter Sinclair, from over the mountain in Gerton, shot himself accidentally while crossing a fence on a hunting trip, it was Jim McClure who volunteered to go to town to buy the coffin. He recorded in the diary in September 1920, "To town with Mr. Huntley for [a] coffin for Porter—[We] were run into by [a] Canadian soldier in a Ford who was going [the] wrong way on [a] one way St. To police court... each waiving damages . . . To undertakers—cheapest coffin $90 & [I was] assured [there were] no �280 We Plow God's Fields cheaper [ones] in town—To Police Capt. & with him to another undertakers and got one for $35. To Gerton . . . picking up a lovely aster wreath the Petsie had made."7 Bargain coffins and aster wreaths were visible expressions of Jim and Elizabeth's conception of their role as mountain neighbors. The sharp lines of social class were a part of this world, too, despite their easy ways and ability to pierce its walls with acts of kindness. Jim and Elizabeth wanted to be friends, but they did not want to compromise what they understood to be the superior quality of their upbringing. Part of their role here was to maintain the highest ideals of manners, beauty and virtue in order to exhibit before the local folk the fruits of progressive Christian civilization. And yet, Jim and Elizabeth could never be smug aristocrats on their mountain, lording it over their neighbors in Fairview. They might have accepted the superiority of their own values, but they knew too that these values came out of a training and education that was handed to them as the result of the struggles of former generations. The Farmers Federation and Elizabeth's pursuit of grace and beauty at Hickory Nut Gap were both meant to initiate the same respect for civilization that infused their own lives with purpose. Jim and Elizabeth tried to drop the social barriers between people without dropping their high standards of personal behavior and their impatience with shoddy work. In organizing the little society of Hickory Nut Gap, they tried to put into practice their ideas of social justice. The Federation was organized as a cooperative in order to involve the people emotionally and financially in the work. It was an organization to be owned by the farmers themselves. In the same way, Jim set up the Hickory Nut Gap Farm Company to involve the workers as participants in the business rather than hired hands. Company meetings were held to decide farm procedures. Shares of stock could be earned or bought. The first such meeting occurred in April 1918 in Jim's study. James Davidson, the farm manager, was present, along with John Shorter. The proposal was made by Jim, and the company was duly formed.8 Two years later, Elizabeth notes in one of her letters a new development in the Company. "Jim is enormously busy as ever. There are six renters this year in addition to the men working by the year so he is deep in contracts and shares. Last week the Hickory Nut Gap Farm Co. was incorporated so Jim is now actually trying out his scheme for letting all the hands have a share of the business. It is an experiment but so far it seems to be working" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart. January 12, 1920). A month later, however, a financial cloud hung low over Hickory Nut Gap, and the experimental mood of January was just about to evaporate when the Valentine's Day mail arrived. "Big conference with the Pet about financesboth very depressed, decided to cut everything—both very low—Decided to write and try to sell Rathmore [Although Mr. Cramer still lived in Rathmore, he had given it to his two children. Presumably, Jim and Elizabeth were here considering selling their share in the house to someone else within the fa- �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 281 mily.]—Mail came with letter giving the Pet and Ambrose Mrs C[ramer]'s share of her mother's estate—Enormous relief."9 Jim had overcome his qualms about spending his wife's inheritance. Not wanting to draw a salary from the Federation, he reasoned that her money was enjoying its highest possible use by providing indirectly for the benefits of cooperative farming in Western North Carolina. After the Valentine's Day financial scare, Jim sat down and made a thorough inventory of his and his wife's financial records. Their assets were considerable, mostly in the form of Chicago area real estate. In all, the annual income from rents and securities was just under $8,000, a sizable sum in those days. This money was sufficient for the management of Hickory Nut Gap Farm in 1920, and the other assets gave Jim the power to borrow more money in order to increase the size of the farm and make necessary improvements. Financial security also gave him the freedom to take an active part in community affairs. Jim McClure continued throughout the twenties to preach his gospel of hope and courage to any gathering his schedule would allow, and to join in the leadership of worthy organizations. In 1921 he became a member of the Civitan Club, one of Asheville's leading service groups, and became its president in 1926. The local country churches continued to invite him to their simple pulpits, and he continued to preach the words of social salvation. "The blighting curse of country folks is jealousy, backbiting, distrust & gossip . . . Drive off evils as your fathers fought Indians,"10 he told the congregation of the Fairview Baptist Church. Jim was quite fond of these country congregations. He liked the informality, the enthusiasm and especially the robust singing that was so full of the spirit of the mountains. Dear Hetty & Doug, This is a fifth Sunday with all the attending excitement in the mountains. Though a pouring rain set in at daybreak we repaired at eleven to "Emmas Grove" where plans were afoot for a "Singing" and in spite of the deluge found a house packed to overflowing. Singers from far and near had foregathered. I had the privilege of doing the exhorting. The crowd was large, three sitting on the preacher's seat as I was on my feet, two worthies leaning against the pulpit and one brave fellow in a bright green sweater standing at the foot of the pulpit savagely eyeing the crowd. The singing was exceedingly good. Dinner was served on the grounds during a break in the storm and Siddy plied her basket through the crowd with all the abandon of a street vendor. (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to the Stuarts, April 29, 1923) Jim's specialty was the graduation speech. "Go out with courage and seek God's highest purpose for your life," he said on many different occasions and in many different ways. His light-hearted description of this particular event, written to Hetty and Doug, belies the seriousness with which he worked to relay his message to the young graduates: "... I had the chance of a lifetime to give tongue on the flapper problem which seems to be the most vital subject now �282 We Plow God's Fields before the public. The affair was the Commencement of Fassifern, a girls school at Hendersonville, with some twenty of the much discussed graduating. The thermometer was down to fifty and a cold wind blowing and the girls in the most summery of costumes so I let them down easy ..." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, June 4, 1922). These girls were the daughters of old families from Charleston and other southern cities. Jim was stumped by some of their names. He pronounced Miss Huger (U-gee) as Miss Hugger and Miss Talifaro (Tolliver) exactly as it was spelled, causing considerable giggling in the audience. One young lady was afraid she would not graduate. Her diploma slipped under the table and when her name was not called she fainted dead away!11 The message delivered at the Fassifern School for Girls was likely to have stressed the same themes as the following example of Jim's oratory, delivered at the Asheville School, amidst calmer proceedings: "Behold I show you a mystery-a spiritual world. [The] hosts with you are stronger than the hosts against you . .. Seek ye first His Kingdom, and all the forces of the Universe will be behind you and the Lord God himself will be back of you to guide your fighting arm."12 Jim made these speeches a call to heroism and self-sacrifice, and he always guaranteed self-fulfillment in return, knowing from experience that this was no vain promise. Despite the puritan temper of many of his exhortations, Jim's life was filled with fun and the love of great entertainment. He and his charming wife became popular participants in the grand social life of Asheville in the twenties. During the summer "season," evenings were as gay as anywhere in the country. Celebrities of one kind or another were commonly present for these parties. The competition for prominence among the leading hostesses was keenly felt, even though it was Mrs. George Vanderbilt who held the keys to social respect. When one was invited to the Biltmore House, it meant acceptance by the highest powers in the realm. Jim and Elizabeth broke through to the top during the 1923 season. He feigned loneliness for his farm hands while describing a gathering one night at Mrs. Vanderbilt's mansion. "We have been quite gay this week as on Friday night we went to a dance at Mrs. Vanderbilt's and Siddy and I had the good luck to be seated at supper at a small table with our hostess, the Spanish Ambassador and wife, the governor of North Carolina, the Head of the U. S. Secret Service and two other notables. I felt ill at ease without the companionship of Zeb Nix and the other worthies. However we had a very gay evening" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, July 8, 1923). The widow of Biltmore House was eventually wooed by and married to Senator Peter Gerry, and thereafter she wasn't in Asheville as much. During the Christmas Season of 1925, however, she and the Cecils of England, members by marriage of her family, filled up Biltmore House again for a festive round of parties. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 283 Senator and Mrs. Peter Gerry [the former Mrs. Vanderbilt] came down for the holidays and have given us quite a gay week. On Tuesday night we dined at Biltmore House with the Cecils House party and Senator and Mrs. Gerry and the next night we again dined with the Gerry's and attended a gypsy dance at Biltmore House which was the best party I have ever attended. Jack Cecil's older brother, wife and son were part of the house party and spent three weeks before the dance painting the cellar of Biltmore House. They painted scenes of every description around the walls, mainly taken from the Russian Chauve Saurie and had all kinds of gypsy atmosphere such as cauldrons and pots and glowing fire under them all around. As usual Siddy had the best costume of the evening. She is acquiring a great reputation along that line and everyone now expects her to set the standard. She had a guitar and I carried the old accordion which made a great hit. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 3, 1926) The following summer, at the height of the season, they attended one of the year's most famous parties. Friday night the Bachelors Club staged their annual fancy dress ball. It was about the most entertaining affair I have ever attended. It was staged this year in the form of a circus, IThere were pop corn stands, pink lemonade booths, hot dog stands, shooting galleries and some twelve side shows. Before entering the circus grounds guests had to go to the Bank of Buncombe and get fake money. Each side show had a barker and ticket taker. It gave great scope to the local talent to shout themselves hoarse and the whole business was great fun. I had the pleasure of barking for the Fortune Teller. Some four or five hundred were present and the costumes were very good and very amusing. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, August 29, 1926) Asheville society provided for Jim and Elizabeth a close facsimile of the familiar world of their Lake Forest upbringing. The mountains had not isolated them from the people and the parties, the clubs and activities to which they were accustomed. Then* fifteen miles of distance from the town and their deep involvement in the lives of the mountain people provided for them a rich blend of characters from both worlds. The two of them would never have been able to lead conventional, predictable lives. But neither could they turn their backs on their own heritage. Jim and Elizabeth cultivated many friendships that enhanced their lives and were useful to the work of the Federation. They were able to balance themselves quite uniquely between the customary world of Asheville, and the new mountain world of Hickory Nut Gap. Their close friend and physician, Dr. Pinckney Herbert, descendant of the famous South Carolina Pinckneys, and his wife Frances, shared with the McClures an interest in the lives of the mountaineers. Dr. Herbert spent much of his own time and money serving these people, who could never have afforded decent medical care. Frances Herbert, a member of a grand old Virginia family, remembered first meeting Jim and Elizabeth back in 1916, when both couples were renting cottages near the Manor Inn in Asheville. With great wit and �284 We Plow God's Fields eloquence, she explained that the two women would forsake the accustomed grandeur of their respective youths to lead the comparatively "sketchy" lives necessary in the mountains. "But of course, we did it for love!"13 Frances and Elizabeth became great friends. They helped to found the French Broad River Garden Club, an active group of ladies who not only "studied beautiful and useful plants, but also took real and effective interest in local conservation issues. As a leading figure in the Trench Broads,' Elizabeth helped to satisfy her own curiosity and stimulate the interest of others in the secrets of the botanical kingdom. As an affiliate of the Garden Club of America, Elizabeth greatly enjoyed exchanging ideas with other gardeners at regional and national meetings. She wrote articles on the medicinal herbs of the southern mountains and on the care of boxwoods for the Garden Club of America Bulletin. Perhaps her greatest contribution was a series of slides of mountain wild flowers. She and Ewart Ball, a talented Asheville photographer, roamed the area to get shots of flowers growing on dripping rock ledges or by sunny streams. This was before the days of color photography, so Elizabeth sent a plant of each variety in full bloom to New York by any trusted hand that was going up at the right season. There two expert ladies painted the slides in exactly the right shades. The slide show was rented to garden clubs all over the country until all expenses were paid. Unfortunately for us all, Elizabeth found little time to paint in the midst of her duties at Hickory Nut Gap Farm and in the community. She told her daughter Elspeth years later that when she began a painting project she became so absorbed that she couldn't keep her mind on the daily routine. She said she became what the Scotts call "hag ridden," that is, carrying a witch on your back who won't get off until your project is finished. But Hickory Nut Gap Farm became her canvas, where she painted with the colors and shapes of the natural world. The gardens she created attracted many gatherings and luncheons during her tenure, and she greatly enjoyed sharing the place she loved so much and worked so hard to make beautiful. The Herberts and McClures became friends for life, raising their children together and enjoying their mutual companionship. Frances Herbert was one of the first people who drove out to see the "Old Tavern" in 1916, and recalled that "It looked like the wrath of God."14 The Herberts customarily came out to Hickory Nut Gap for quiet Sunday outings. Everyone would carry a "pocket lunch" and hike back into the mountains to find a peaceful creek bank or glade. They would all return in time for the McClure's traditional sparse Sunday night supper of crackers and milk and soft-boiled eggs. Relatives on both the McClure and Cramer sides also made surprisingly frequent visits to Western North Carolina. On one occasion, in 1922, a large contingent of McClures including the family patriarch were on hand when word reached the farm that brother Arch had become the father of his first son. Jim described the scene to Hetty as the news spread about the house. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 285 This morning the embarrassed voice of Western Union gave us the great news of the arrival of Archibald, Jr. The word spread through the house like wildfire. Mother and Dinto [brother Nathan] on the porch, Father in my study, Siddy in her room with Louise [Nathan's wife] upstairs, ... were moved to immediate and delighted—ejaculations. We all went to church wreathed in smiles. At the Fairview church Father preached and completely dispelled the cloud which had hung heavy upon him since the worthy brother had denounced the theological Seminaries and especially the heads of theological seminaries two years ago. Yesterday we took a spin to Spartanburg and Greenville and return[ed]. Father set foot upon South Carolina soil, a state in which he had never been. The day was perfect for the run and after we got out of the mountains we went through the cotton fields for miles. We had breakfast at home and had dinner at home, and between these meals traveled 180 miles in the 6 year old car [the Honeymoon Hudson!]. At times we reached a dizzy speed but to Mother we never went fast enough, and she always felt that we might have gone a little faster (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, August 20, 1922) Nathan McClure, known as "the General" for having been in the American army during World War I, especially enjoyed his time on the farm, and pitched in with great enthusiasm. He had always admired Jim immensely, and felt satisfied when he could please him. Nathan, his wife Louise and little son (whom everyone called "Nainie") spent most of that summer with Jim and Elizabeth. In Jim's correspondence with the Stuarts, he described how much Nathan became involved in his projects: Yesterday Louise, Nathan and I accompanied by John and a colored organizer left in the morning for Rutherford County where we attended a meeting of colored farmers who had up for discussion the subject of forming an auxiliary to the Farmers Federation. The meeting developed along the lines of a revival, hymns, prayers, Amens and Hallelujahs were interspersed at the proper moments and we all got well roused up. Even Nathan rose from his seat and made a speech. Needless to say that after such a warming up the auxiliary was formed. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, June 25, 1922) The General is becoming the chief back door figure of Asheville. He has a way with him that makes his peaches and plums irresistible to the housewives and stewardesses of Asheville, Black Mountain and other nearby centers. I do not know how I could have made it this summer without him. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, July 23, 1922) The General is keeping up his back door popularity and moving stuff off the farm in hilarious fashion. This last week he started to sell off my calves as the price of veal got up high. He is now taking Nainie with him on his trips to act as "side kick" or to "scotch" for him ... Zeb Nix was up yesterday to borrow three dollars which he gives me his bond he will repay when the General engages his hog for him. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, August 6, 1922) �286 We Plow God's Fields Monday was a sad day In the chronicles of Hickory Nut Gap Farm. Father and Mother first entrusted themselves to the uncertainties of railroad travel and an hour and a half later Nainie, heavily guarded by his parents stepped boldly "into a Pullman, shaking the dust of Buncombe County from his trilbys. It was a grievous day for the natives. Zeb Nix arrived at 5:30 a.m. and knocked at my door . . . to fare well Nathan who had sold his hog for him so well and on Wednesday as I took up The Generals route in Asheville and environs I found every back door flag at half mast. . .. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, August 27, 1922) The following spring, Hetty and Doug themselves came down, only to discover that Jim's Federation work had taken its toll on his golf game. Jim wrote, "As a final parting shot Hetty did me up on the Biltmore Forest Golf Links, and though beaten by a woman, I will say for her that she displayed a brand of golf seldom seen in these parts, holing out fours and fives with the regularity of [a] hardened pro" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Doug Stuart, August 8, 1923). The Cramer clan were avid golfers as well, as were most residents of Lake Forest. Ambrose Cramer, Sr. purchased for Jim a charter membership at the Biltmore Country Club, which opened on July 4, 1922. Membership in this readily accessible course, Jim joked, might have unforeseen consequences. "Mr. Cramer has made E & myself members so I expect that I have seen the last of my wife & I am now planning an extra room in which to house the probable golf trophies. If Siddy should ever put her mind on the game I believe we would all lose her" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, April 20, 1922). Ambrose Cramer, Sr. took a lively interest in the life of his daughter and son-in-law, and was quite generous in helping to pay for projects that were beyond their reach. He offered to renovate the old inn by building a large addition to add a bedroom and make over the kitchen. The work was completed, following the advice of Ambrose, Jr., the family architect, and the result was a success that not only satisfied the needs of a growing family, but blended so well with the old structure that the entire effect of the house was greatly enhanced. Mr. and Mrs. Cramer became so enchanted with Western North Carolina that they bought a home in the new residential town of Biltmore Forest, which was growing up around the Country Club golf course. The Skinner aunts, Bessie and Freddie, were also frequent visitors, along with their nephew, Ambrose, Jr. The Aunties contributed a new upstairs bathroom and many more touches of civilization to the old house. Ambrose, Jr., [Bowser], came regularly to Hickory Nut Gap to visit his sister and Jim. Along with the relations, who were certainly curious about how one managed to live in rural Western North Carolina, many other travelers of various distinctions and peculiarities passed through Hickory Nut Gap. The old house, just as if it were still an inn, successfully brought together all sorts of these guests. Family members, odd visitors, employees, tenants and broken down �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 287 automobile owners all became part of a group of people that could scarcely have been thrown together anywhere else on earth. Jim McClure loved this great mixing of people, at least most of the time. Genuine characters, such as this ancient specimen, seemed to be drawn to the place. "This day we were called on by an aged colored gentleman who said he was 114 years old ... He was an old slave, is a relative of John Shorter's, and told us great tales of the old days. He remembers when the Indians were moved out of this country to their reservations which was sometime ago [about 90 years]" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, July 2, 1922). If the old men talked, the young boys worked. Jim and Elizabeth made a point to hire many of the children living around the farm for odd jobs around the house. Lawrence Huntiey remembered his boyhood at Hickory Nut Gap with great sentiment, and credits the McClures with providing him with a strong moral example that influenced his life enormously. He usually worked alongside John Shorter and under the direction of Mrs. McClure. In the summer, he kept the grass clipped and the gardens weeded. In the winter, the wood box always needed refilling as the fires kept up a fearful appetite for wood. Lawrence recalled what it was like to work for Mrs. McClure. "If the work you did didn't suit her, she would say: 'Oh, I can hardly believe my eyes: that's the finest work in the world. Let's change it that way to see how it looks.' It had to be right . . . She had the prettiest garden in front of the house. If any weed got in there, I had to get her out." And for Lawrence, working with Mr. McClure "was just like a boy working for his father . . . He sent me off to school . . . [and] bought me a baseball glove. He'd take me with him everywhere he went. . . ." John and Esther Shorter stand out in his memory for their kindness to him. "Esther was in charge of the kitchen. She could really cook . . . [Each] night, [for] an hour or two . . . Esther would school me in my lessons." Two sisters, Minnie and Freenie Early, worked as maids during this period, and Lawrence remembers joking around with them. "John put me up to run and kiss 'em, kiss them girls-then take off. Fight you just like a dog . . . It would tickle John—that great big old fat belly—I can see him—would just shake all over." John also taught Lawrence to drive, in nothing less than the old Honeymoon Hudson. That automobile " . . . was something unusual . . . to be around here," and it sure made him feel proud for his friends to spot him sitting in the driver's seat.15 Lawrence Huntley's most vivid memory began with a squirrel hunting expedition: Olson Sumner was a boy about my age. He was the one that caused that scar in my head right there. [And quite a scar, or really indention, it is!] We were after a ground squirrel in a hollow log and he was at one end of the log; we were splitting it, and I was at the other end with an ax. We were splitting that log to get the ground squirrel o u t . . . and I stooped down to pick a chip up, . . . and the point of it [the ax] hit me ... Mrs. McClure—that was the first place I went. My shoes were full of blood—I mean it really bled. And �288 We Plow God's Fields Mrs. McClure, she dressed it. Mother put soot in the cut to keep it from bleeding, and the doctors "raised the dickens." . . . It split the skull. It's a wonder it didn't kill me.16 Lawrence Hundey's parents boarded the first farm manager, James Davidson, with them as long as he was a bachelor. The farm manager occupied a position of authority in the hierarchy on the farm, and was the daily operator of the business. James Davidson woke up with the rooster crows each morning, and began the day by milking the cow. Jim McClure liked to run down and talk to him during this chore if there were any pressing problems to size up. After breakfast, at 7 a.m., all hands gathered at the barn. Here, the tasks of the day were explained and divided up, and the working day began. When James Davidson married, a new house was built for Lawrence's family, who left the farm soon afterwards. They were replaced by another set of Huntieys, David and Nannie, who remained on the farm for years and years. Mrs. Davidson can recall these early patterns of life with a vivid eye for detail. It was the Shorters, John and Esther, who again stand out. Esther, or Eddie, would take little Jamie out for long walks every day. "She always carried a hymn book, and sang wherever she went." One of her favorites was the song "Life is Like a Mountain Railroad." She also had a predilection for praying out loud as she wandered along. "Once little Jamie asked her, 'Who are you talking to, Eddie?' and she replied, Tm just talking to the Lord, Honey.' A few days later she caught him muttering to himself, 'talking to the Lord.'" Mrs. Davidson said that the two old oxen that belonged to John and that had first pulled the Hudson up the mountain back in 1916 went by two names. To Mr. and Mrs. McClure, they were "Red" and "Brown," simply because John could never bring himself to tell them that really their names were "Hell" and "Fire." Mrs. Davidson remembers as well sitting on her porch and watching the wagons coming over from Rutherford County on their way to Asheville. The halfway camping spot was just across the road from her house, and there the teamsters would unharness their horses, build a little fire and fry up some fatback, corn bread and beans. The farmers were usually hi groups of three or four, so that on the return trip, when they were carrying their money, they would be less likely to be robbed by thieves along the way. She recalls these wagons, many of them covered, passing through in the fall of the year carrying their harvests and hopes for the year. Mr. McClure would often stop and hear what these men had to say around their campfires, and if there was something suspicious about them he wouldn't hesitate to send them on their way. But he would usually let the farmers stay, especially if they showed some interest in the Farmers Federation. These were the people he wanted to help.17 Elizabeth and Jim were gradually putting the old house into shape. There was a room behind the living room with windows looking out to the mountains across the valley, which had not yet been renovated. The idea of recording life at the old inn on the walls of this room had been in Elizabeth's mind. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 289 They had the register of guests of the Inn starting in 1850. Each had unknowingly bid against the other to get them as a Christmas present (Jim had won). Elizabeth could visualize the travellers coming through the gap: judges, political figures like President Andrew Johnson, who was Governor of Tennessee at the time of his visit; travelling ministers; hog and cattle drovers; fancy Charleston folk on their way to Flat Rock to escape the summer heat of the lowlands. She listened to the stories of neighbors who remembered the stage coach days, which had lasted well into the nineties, and studied historical records and drawings to get the make and measurements of the coach that was used. She began to piece together the visual remnants of the past—the past and present were not far removed from one another in this isolated region. As scenes slowly began to take shape in her mind, she started the "cartoons," or preliminary drawings in charcoal, directly on the beaverboard panels of the wall. She knew the loose impressionist style she had studied in France was all wrong for the scenes of mountain life she envisaged. She wanted the panels to look like English water-color wall paper; yet oil paint was the medium she preferred to work with. To express the simplicity of life in the mountains she settled on a realistic, genie style, each little group of figures presenting an anecdote of life at or near the inn. To her credit she resisted including the stereotyped moonshiner with his still. She wanted to paint the more enduring themes of the mountains. She worked with oils, but used a medium that flattened the finish to resemble water color. An old gentleman who had worked at the inn as a boy, catching chickens and chopping wood, took up the position of special adviser to the artist. He spent hours sitting in the doorway between rooms, making suggestions as Elizabeth painted and spitting tobacco juice a good ten feet into the living room fireplace. At first each spit made her nervous, but she soon learned that he never missed. Panels were planned for three sides of the room. One by one she filled each with life and motion—bear hunters, rattlesnake killers, pretty young gentlemen guests trying feebly to push the coach out of the mud she knew so well. She painted animals: bears; deer; razor back hogs; chickens; and in the foreground, the exquisite mountain wild flowers. She learned the type of coach used by Bedford Sherrill and wrote for pictures and measurements to the Boston Museum. She checked the details of costumes for accuracy. Only the dashing white horses, with bobbed tails and flowing black manes, were an imaginative touch that, along with the flowing contours of the local mountain peaks, unifies the diverse panels. Jim reports in the weekly epistle of his family that "Siddy made a brave start at painting her panels but the collapse of the household put a sudden stop to that activity" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, March 19, 1922). By the first of April, Jim returned from a trip to find that"... the Pet had done a lot on the first panel & had painted the wheels of the coach red."18 Jim tried to help her, not with mere praise but as a rather harsh critic. She writes in her diary that "Cricket [was] displeased with my mountain. Have to find some way �290 We Plow God's Fields of doing it more in the feeling of the period."19 She struggled through her next session. "Spent an awful day trying to paint the mountain like an old fashioned one. Nearly killed me."20 In the first panel on the east wall, she painted the primeval forest. The scene depicts the moment of climax for a hunting party of Cherokee Indians. A pair of bucks and a doe are leaping out of the underbrush at the same moment that two strong braves draw their bows. Behind a rock outcrop hide the main body of men, watching expectantly as the scene unfolds. Moving to the right, the middle scene is a view of the courtyard behind SherriU's Inn. The spring-fed dairy, the old smokehouse and the inn itself are all arranged to best display the architectural lines of the buildings. The smokehouse is thought to be the oldest structure standing today in Buncombe County, and the only one left constructed with the rifle slots needed in the event of an Indian attack. In the center of the picture, emphasizing its importance and grandeur, is the stage coach itself, a true copy of the one that traveled through Hickory Nut Gap. On its side the words "Sherrill's Flying Cloud" are painted. Four white horses with docked tails are being unhitched for feeding and watering while the coachman with his top hat leans back to have a word with a gentleman unloading a trunk. To the right of the coach, two men with coonskin caps carry in a bear cub they have just shot, flanked by four hunting dogs leaping up and running around the carcass. In the recesses of the scene, a little boy trying to lead a pig by a string tied to its hind leg is being dragged around the courtyard while a man slops a hog near the house. And there are other figures going about their business, old and young, all amidst the spring blossoms of the fruit trees. The scene, like the others, portrays the variety of the mountains, especially the variety of people. On the same wall, further to the right, is a portrayal of an historical event. A small contingent of Stoneman's cavalry, with their blue union uniforms, is riding up the gorge toward Sherrill's Inn. Chimney Rock Mountain rises up in the background. These Union soldiers were coming to pacify Buncombe County, whose citizens on the whole had been staunchly loyal to the Confederacy. They set up their headquarters in the inn before moving on to Asheville. Moving to the south wall of the room, the "Flying Cloud" begins its ascent up the mountain to the inn. One gentleman, riding with the driver, blows a horn, an old tradition on this line. The number of blasts will give Mrs. Sherrill the count of the travelers that day, and she will still have time to add more food to the table if necessary before the coach can "pull the mountain." Nearby, next to the road, a mountaineer and two well-dressed city men gather around a coiled rattlesnake, shotguns in hand. The mountain man looks distrustful of the city fellows' aim. Elizabeth has added to this panel many of the flowers that are her joy, including the rhododendron Maximum in fiill bloom. On the west wall, the central panel is flanked on either side by two separate groups of travelers passing through the Gap. On the left, four covered wagons, each pulled by a team of oxen, lumber up the grade, preceded by a herd of hogs being kept in line by a mounted drover and a young boy. Wagons such as these �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 291 were still to be seen in the early twenties passing by Jim's and Elizabeth's home. On the right panel, a mountain family has once again pulled up stakes and is on the move, a surprisingly common occurrence in the mountains. Two mules pull an overladen wagon, while members of the family either ride along or walk beside the entourage of people and animals, which includes a flock of sheep and two leashed hounds. The central panel of this grouping represents another masterpiece of anecdote, full of characters and action. "The Flying Cloud" has just pulled to a halt in front of SherriU's Inn, and as the passengers unload their jolted physiques, their mountain host comes out to greet them with a tray of "cordials." The painting is full of little touches of mountain life: Mrs. SherriU's fine bonnet, a quilt drying on the roof, a little boy fruitlessly chasing after a chicken (the chicken drawn by Jim because he thought Elizabeth's was not running fast enough!), bees streaming in and out of the old-fashioned bee skeps, and a pretty young maiden with a billowing skirt and dainty parasol shyly being introduced to two nattily dressed young dandies. A boy holds the horses as they stamp and paw, eager to get to the barn after the long pull up to the inn. These paintings are among the very few that remain as a testimony to Elizabeth's extraordinary talent. Her vision in these panels indicates a great deal about her attitudes; she loved the common poses and activities of life around her, its variety, humor and essential beauty, if only one took the time to see it. These pictures show her gifts as an artist, her ability to compose scenes that are both balanced and beautiful, and yet alive with activity. It speaks too for her appreciation of all people, high and low, her uncommon mountain neighbors along with her dandified friends from town. These pictures are a secret treasure of the Southern Appalachians, bringing together a time, a place and a gifted artist. By May, Jim proclaimed to Hetty and Doug that "Siddy has her second panel almost completed and the room is going to be a wonder" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, May 21, 1922). By the fall of 1923, the word was out that a unique project depicting mountain life had been created by Elizabeth McClure, and Jim described in his distinctive manner the reception of these panels by the local critics. "We had quite a day yesterday for Cornelia Vanderbilt spread the news of Siddy's pictures on her return home & the Vanderbilt house party then commenced to arrive in relays during the afternoon. I plan to charge admission & also to wear a guard's uniform & stretch out an itching palm as sightseers depart" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, no date). The autumn of 1922 marked not only the triumphant completion of Elizabeth's "painting fit," but many other changes in her life. Her second child was growing within her, while at the same time she felt the loneliness and melancholy of being without Jim, who was away on a long and difficult errand. Her brother Ambrose had been suffering through some personal and marital difficulties. He and Grace had been living in France while he worked on his architectural degree at the Beaux Arts in Paris, and with Jim he returned there to work �292 We Plow God's Fields through his problems. Jim's long absence was a sad and lonely time for Elizabeth, but produced more of her moving literary expressions of love. She and Aunt Freddie, little Jamie and Esther, all went up to New York to see Jim and a very depressed Ambrose off for France. Dear Cricket & Bowser off for France . . . As the ship sailed slowly off I rushed to find a tall coloured porter who could hold Jamie up in the air to wave at Daddy .. . Auntie [Freddie] quite cheerful & [I] felt most cheerful myself to realize that Ambrose had really left & with my darling to cheer & strengthen him (Can't help worrying about that letter to G[race]). Jamie it seems raised the dickens while I was downstairs, yelling, & saying he didn't have to behave now [that] Daddy was gone . . . I miss my darling terribly & find myself thinking of him almost continuously. I hope he is sleeping well tonight & that [Ambrose] is more cheerful. There is an occasional fog horn sounding & it makes him somehow seem near! (October 16, 1922, New York City)21 .. . longing for Cricket & anxious as to how things are going. Hope he will think to send me a cable with some hint. (October 19, 1922) Another lonesome night without Cricket. I miss him more every single night. Bowser's letter so pathetic but there is one line in it that makes me hopeful. (October 20, 1922) Such a lovely autumn day, almost hot, with here & there cosmos, dahlias, chrysanthemums in bloom & such lovely subdued colors in the leaves. How I wish Cricket could see them. The mountains are just the way he loves them . . . I would have given anything to have been with him, to see all that lovely French land again for the first time together after so many years away. It is very hard not to hear from him—if I could only have letters he would not seem so far away . . . I kept thinking of Cricket & Bowser & Paris & longing to know how things were with them. It is very lonesome without Cricket & gets worse all the time! . . . (October 29, 1922, Asheville) . . . a letter from that dearest Cricket telling me everything I wanted to know . . . His letter was such a comfort & delight & Ferderkins [Aunt Freddie] was greatly heartened & cheered by all he said about the Bowser.... (November 3, 1922) On November 7, when election day arrived, Jim was still away and Elizabeth had the opportunity to exercise her new privilege at the polls. Her response to women's suffrage is quite curious, considering her family's political interests and her own independent life before her marriage, but it was still a new responsibility. Mr. Davidson called . . . it was voting day. Very much irked at the thought of voting but felt that perhaps Cricket would want i t . . . Cast my vote (after first calling Mr. P on telephone to ask if there was any specially good man I should vote for) & Just put my mark on a straight �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 293 Republican ticket. Also voted for increase in pay for legislators. Hurried back home after first having dispelled the usual crowd that had gathered about Puny. (November?, 1922) Despite Jim's and Elizabeth's flirtations with socialism prior to the Great War, by the time of Calvin Coolidge they were both safely in the Republican camp, and there for good. Jim had voted for Warren G. Harding and his "return to normalcy" in 1920, as did Elizabeth in what would have been her first chance to vote. The next evening Elizabeth wrote: Spent evening sorting Cricket's mail & systemizing it. Miss my darling terribly but had the joy of finding a letter from Rouen in today's mail & 2 postcards. The Rouen letter took me right back to that thrilling old town. Cricket sounded in the letter exactly as though he had been affected by it in just the same way I was when I first saw it. I am counting every hour to my dearest's return. I miss him every minute & his dear letters are such a comfort. (November 8, 1922) Next day, with the woods filled with dry leaves, their neighbor Emory McAbee had one of his "fire fits." Elizabeth described the scene. This has been a day of excitements. Rushed out to post a letter early & smelled smoke. Clouds of it pouring over Ferguson & Rocky Point. Smoke pall descending all over [the] mountain. [I] learned . . . that a bad fire was raging in around Emory McAbees & was part on our land. They thought Emory had let the fire o u t . . . Mr. Davidson had sent hands up to fight the fire, but Mr. Early [who was there shingling the garage] feared wind & thought if it got going nothing could stop it. I felt much worried . . . Flew down to the barn and interviewed Mr. Davidson .. . Men came down about noon from fighting [the] fire. [They] had been obliged to start some sort of back fire about halfway up the mountain to head [the] fire off & some fire back of Rocky Point along [the] Ridge I believe. [I] felt that [the] danger had been averted. Mrs. Huntley came over about 9 & said that a lot of our timber had been burned a short time ago in one of Emory's crazy fire fits . . . It seems that Emory had built a fire . . . one day & Mrs. McAbee according to Mr. Davidson was terrified of him . .. Mr. Merrill . . . told me to tell Mr. Davidson that he had seen the sheriff in town & sent him out that afternoon & that Emory had been taken off. [I] Arranged with Mr. Davidson about sending some one up tomorrow to see about Mrs. Emory . . . Very "jumpy" this evening. Queer sounds in the cellar & disturbing noises. Scared of everything. Thank goodness only two more nights without Cricket. (November 9, 1922) It was high time for Jim to come home! Elizabeth met him at the train in Biltmore on his return from France. As she rushed to embrace him he hastily warned her back. His suit aiid overcoat pockets were bulging with antique octagonal plates, each with a different French scene—his present after his long �294 We Plow God's Fields absence. Seven years later, the "Bowser" episode culminated with a surprise twist. Jim and Elizabeth were summoned to Washington to witness his second marriage, to Mary Meeker, his first wife Grace's younger sister. While Jim was away, Esther Shorter felt a need to go home and take care of her old mother. The trip to New York as Jamie's nurse had been difficult for her, and despite all her virtues she could be rather temperamental on occasion. She was a proud and sensitive woman and had a bad heart that perhaps made her quick to anger. After six years of devoted service, in November 1922, there was "Much hurried packing & the two [Esther and John] . . . departed for good. No tears shed but such general good feeling."22 Soon afterwards Esther died and John returned to the farm to remain a loyal pillar of the establishment until his own death in 1955. Elizabeth struggled to find a replacement for Esther, with her second child expected in a few months. A nurse was hired, known simply as "Hawkins." With such a name, one would expect a military sort of figure. Elizabeth explained to her Aunt Freddie that "Hawkins is ... more powerful than ever and I am sighing with contentment. She talks through her nose & squeaks & Jamie is beginning to talk just like her but she is such a tower of strength I could not manage without her for the present, anyway" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Frederika Skinner, June 29, 1923). Hawkin's powerful tendencies eventually overreached Elizabeth's bounds, when she learned that the woman had thrashed Jamie with real vengeance when the family was away. Elizabeth fired her on the spot and took over the nursing duties herself. Soon after Jim's return from France preparations got under way for the birth of Elizabeth and Jim's second child, expected early in 1923. Childbirth brought out the most cautious instincts in Jim and Elizabeth, which is only to say that the lives of mother and child were given the highest value. But the contrast with today's recuperation schedule is startling. The whole family moved into Asheville in mid-January to be nearer the hospital. With the arrival of Wiggywags (Martha Clarke), all signs of the imminence of the great event were present. Yet, in all the correspondence, the exact nature of the details of the appearance of the new baby is discretely avoided, as if to mention childbirth itself was a bad omen that somehow might threaten the new life. In such a manner, Hetty and Doug, and the rest of the family, were kept informed. We plan to move to 306 Chestnut St., Asheville on next Thursday where we will be installed at the boarding house of Miss Elizabeth Bernard. It seems a most comfortable establishment. We plan to put Jamie in kindergarten so he may not grow up a social recluse. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 14, 1923) Our entourage moved into Asheville for the season . . . we are now awaiting the dinner gong before marching in to dinner . . . Jamie is proving a great mixer and already has an intimate acquaintance with every fellow boarder. He has introduced himself to them in whatever role he happened to be playing at the moment so that there is great confusion as to �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties Esther Shorter and Jamie McClure. his name, some calling him George, some Tobey, some Mac, some Jinks and some Uncle Wiggly. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 21, 1923) Letters and telegrams from all the readers of this weekly have put me in very close touch with you all this week. I can plainly see that the surest way to get a reaction from my faithful readers is to send out telegrams similar to the ones dispatched last Sunday night. Elizabeth and Elspeth are doing famously. I have just come from the hospital where I said Goodnight to the pair of them. Dr. Millender is highly pleased with them both and says he has not had a patient do so well in years. Elspeth has been on her good behavior and everyone is charmed with her. Elizabeth will keep right on at the hospital for some time, in fact we are planning for a stay of four weeks, for we are exponents of the slow and easy school. We will have to be thrown out of the hospital as we were last time before we take the plunge into the cold hard world. 295 �296 We Plow God's Fields Miss Clarke is taking the most beautiful and loving care of the pair and it is a piece of rare good fortune to have such a devoted friend. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February, 4, 1923) Elspeth's cold hard world out at Hickory Nut Gap would be the same rich blend of aristocratic values mixed with strong democratic intentions that marked off the struggles of her parents. It would be a world of cooks and maids, and the tough mountain children who were also growing up on the McClure farm. Her world would include the great cast of characters that called Jim and Elizabeth McClure their friends. It would also include a membership in the wider McClure clan, so aptly explained by the Dominie just after his granddaughter's birth. My dear Elizabeth, I am just as proud of you as I can possibly be. I rejoice with all my heart in the birth of little Elspeth. She has a very big place in my love already, and the place grows bigger every day. How wonderful it all is, that a life comes to us, and it isn't a stranger at all—it seems perfectly at home—as though it belonged to us—and we love the life devotedly from the instant of its arrival! I never have felt all this so much, as since word came that Elspeth was here. Yesterday I spoke of this to Arch . . . and Arch said that this is exactly the way he feels. Well, Elizabeth, you always were a queen in my judgement (and it is a sober, thoughtful but enthusiastic judgement) and now you are more a queen than ever. If that husband of yours . . . is not proud of you and doesn't say that you are the dearest,. . . loveliest woman in all the world, I will not believe he is in his right mind. Please put that question to him—and let us know what his condition of mind is. Grandfather McClure (James G. K. McClure, Sr. to Elizabeth Cramer McClure, January 31, 1923) The Dominie's wife, Annie Dixon McClure, wrote happily that the arrival of Elspeth "completes the round dozen of our grandchildren" (Phebe Ann Dixon McClure to James and Elizabeth McClure, January, 29, 1923). Elizabeth's father took the opportunity of Elspeth's birth to sing again the praises of his own daughter. "Darling Bios," he wrote, "We received the splendid news . . . Now you will know like myself the joy of having a daughter. If your daughter brings unto you one half the love and affection and dearness of my daughter, she will fill your life with happiness, and never give you a thought save congratulations for a name. You and Jim can settle that, but do not call her after local peaks or Hickory Nut Gap" (Ambrose Cramer, Sr. to Elizabeth Cramer McClure, January 29, 1923). "Elspeth" was neither peak nor gap, but a Scottish name that suited Elizabeth. Neither was the little child encumbered with a middle name, even if it meant passing up the opportunity to honor a relation. Elizabeth's painting �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 297 friend, Mildred Burridge, welcomed the child with this exuberant return telegram. "Your telegram received with flourish of Trumpets Cornets Hauteboys Bassoons Bass Drums Triangles Display of Fireworks Pine Wheels Skyrockets Roman Candles Embrace Elspeth fondly for me I long to see her Am Telegraphing from St. Frances Hotel gaily decorated in her honor."23 The formality of "Elspeth" fell away to "Elfie," and that became the family name of their little girl. Jim McClure was keenly aware that each child was born into this world deeply in debt. There were the debts of history: political freedom, religious tolerance and scientific progress. There were the family debts: the struggling Covenanters, the trekkers of the new world, the hardships and the successes. All of these circumstances placed little Elfie in a distant world unlike the one her neighbor children knew. Jim wanted his progeny to grow up aware of these debts, and aware that the process must continue. His view was that the real leaders of each generation were those men and women who followed their highest calling, sacrificed their own pleasures for a better world. And, as the theory went, self-sacrifice would yield self-fulfillment. The rock on which Jim and Elizabeth raised their children consisted of these same heroic virtues and strivings. Service was held up before them as the highest calling of life. Education was the cornerstone of ability. Like all parents, the McClures wavered between mercy and justice, but the values themselves were clear-cut and unassailable. Certain activities, such as card playing of any sort, were forbidden. Of course, this encouraged the youngsters to hide away in closets to play an illicit game of Lindbergh cards. From birth, Jamie and Elfie were carefully monitored so that their intellectual progress could be nurtured. But they were not lock stepped through youth, especially with the opportunities of a mountain farm. Besides, Jim and Elizabeth were too much fun to let their Victorian habits grind down the frivolous nature of youth. But these two children did grow up to be disciplined, each in his own way. Jamie was a seeker of truth, who would not abide sloppy thinking in either man or child. Elspeth, the more literary of the two, tried hard like her parents to appreciate people, to overlook the faults in others, and to stand ready to help them along. Little Elfie and brother Jamie grew up in a changing world. Henry Ford's mass produced automobile revolutionized transportation during the twenties and ending the picturesque wagon trips through Hickory Nut Gap. Even back in the mountains of North Carolina, a surprising number of cars and trucks were on the road. Around Fairview, Jim McClure was known as much for his Hudson automobile as he was for founding the Farmers Federation. The fascination for the mechanical miracles of Detroit struck the farm boys of the mountains deeply. The big switchback curves going through Hickory Nut Gap became, and continue to be, the scene of dramatic automobile crashes. One of the earliest occurred back in the spring of 1922 when Elizabeth was painting her panels, and gives some indication of the carefree attitude that overtook a group of people with a flivver and a little gas money. To Hetty and Doug, Jim wrote, �298 We Plow God's Fields This day opened with a crash on the road at 6 a.m. which proved to be a party of young riders turned over in a Ford. On extrication none proved seriously hurt. How they do it in a Ford I fail to see unless Henry has some special arrangement with the special Saint detailed on motor accidents. This party drove straight over a bank turned completely over, all ended up in or under the car and none seriously hurt. The party had been out all night and slumber had gotten the better of them. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, May 26, 1923) New cars meant new roads, and in 1923 the state began to pave the old sand road up the mountain with concrete. If there were great hopes for a fine road in the future, the present driving conditions were absolutely atrocious. Elizabeth described to Aunt Freddie the process of road building during the early twenties. . . . never have I imagined anything much worse than the sand clay road. It is ploughed up in great tracts & the mud & stones & ruts something incredible. They say that [they] are going to start the cement work on the 15th of June starting at the Fairview bridge & working toward Asheville. A camp of 25 men are located at the very top of the Gap where they are quarrying rock for the macadam part of the process & the stone crushing. They have to pay us so much a square yard of rock & will be there perhaps a year, so we shall get something out of it, anyway. Jamie is of course tremendously excited. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Frederika Skinner, May 26, 1923) Little Jamie was fascinated by machines. He was four years old now, and loved to run down the pasture to watch all the road building activity. Men and mules worked together hauling rock and driving drag pans. Building a road by hand was a laborious project, but many a man worked whatever political pull he had to get hired onto the crew. The men and animals camped on the job during the week, going home only on the weekends. A few shacks were built to accommodate the workers. One crew of laborers was made up of all black men, and they loved to sing to while away the hours. Young Jamie was leaning up on the fence watching this particular group one day, utterly lost in fascination by the implements and processes of this working outfit. The negro gang fell into a slow rhythmic song to match their work, but one prepared especially for the little McClure boy. Jamie's presence was carefully monitored from the kitchen window up the hill; he suddenly turned and raced up towards the house crying. He was met quickly and comforted by his mother. When he calmed down, he explained. As he listened to the workers singing in spiritual rounds, he had suddenly caught the words of the chorus that ended each verse: "Little white boy, sittin' on the fence. Ain't got nothin' to do."24 The prospects for a new road worried Jim. The engineers were keen to eliminate the numerous switchback curves, cutting through an entirely new route. Jim dreaded the further desecration of his farm, as the road had already been changed several years before. He traveled down to Raleigh to plead his �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 299 -,\ " : l«*lP%l>«i^-d Left: Baby Elspeth, Elizabeth, and Jamie McClure, 1923. Right: Jamie and Elizabeth in the garden below the house, June 1923. case in the matter, and returned with the good news that "The decision to have the new road come up following the old road has greatly eased our minds" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, July 8, 1923). The same road is still in use, and the picturesque curves provide today a scenic route for the tourists who can be seen almost year round enjoying picnics and taking pictures of each other as they travel through Hickory Nut Gap. But the work back in the twenties was painfully slow, and by late fall of 1924, Jim was thoroughly exasperated by the lack of progress. He wrote, "We are in the depths of misery over our road. It will be next June before the wretches are through and meanwhile we are hundreds of miles from town on a wet day" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, November 4, 1924). Throughout this period a whirlpool of activity swirled about Jim McClure: problems like the new road, the management of his farm and the Federation, and increasingly, the appointments that give public men and women even more duties. At the same time, in the eye of the storm, his family was growing up. Despite the demands on his time, Jim could always arrange to be with his wife and children. Like his own father, who had taken him along when making pastoral calls, Jim loved to take Elspeth and Jamie with him on his jaunts into the countryside. They loved the excitement of all the Federation activities, and children make a wonderful topic of conversation in a crowd of strangers. When they were older, Jim McClure would work them into the entertainment. Most �300 We Plow God's Fields of all, he wanted his children to be nurtured by the same rich Christian tradition and idealism of his own youth. Jamie was in many ways a difficult child to raise. He was extraordinarily intelligent and was for four years an only child in a large household that must have seemed to him set up to revolve around his needs. There were no children with his background at Hickory Nut Gap, and he grew up a self-assured and completely fearless child. Jamie McClure inherited his father's strong tendency to question the comfortable assumptions, and he did not hesitate to speak up to correct his own contemporaries, or even his elders, if he became convinced that they were wrong. Perhaps it is fair to say that he was as "cranky" as his father, but had not as a boy acquired Jim's tact as a counterbalance. One Sunday, Jim preached a sermon at die Fairview Church. Surprisingly, his keen son was paying close attention to the message, and when the word "demolish" turned up, he immediately demanded a satisfactory definition. With great warmth, Jim explained that he would have to pause to clarify this point with a member of the congregation.25 Jamie's forthright nature and precocious intellect, fed by an endless curiosity and stimulated by his parents' wide interests, added to his courage. At three, while in New York City, Aunt Freddie and Elizabeth took him to the Bronx Zoo. His mother described the expedition in her diary. "We got a gorgeous Pierce Arrow to come for us at 9:30 ... Jamie adored the park & especially the monkey, laughing immediately at their antics. In the Elephant house the keeper took an immense fancy to him & before the envious eyes of other astonished children took him behind the separation and let him feed the elephant hunks of bread. Jamie was very bold & Delighted the keeper by not being afraid."26 Jamie's quick mind made it difficult for him to hold his tongue among his Mends, and he rarely felt the same ease with boys his age that had so distinguished his father. He spent a lot of time with adults, and was perhaps more comfortable in their presence. Usually he possessed a courageous soul, but a Halloween Party given in Asheville by the Perry family would have been a test for any child. Puny and I taxied over to the Perrys stopping on the way for a pillow case in which to array Puny at the Palais Royal. Puny [was] terribly interested at the prospect in store. We arrived at the Perrys and found several other little spooks waiting on the steps— Puny somewhat reluctant to descend when he saw them but clutched my hand & we entered boldly. We all wended our way to the barn where with many ghostly noises each child was ushered singly into the dark barn. They all seemed to enjoy it though Puny again clung to me like mad & when we got inside was somewhat terrorized by a shaking corn stalk (colored man concealed within) as the children's shrieks of excitement were rather appalling. The poor lamb started to weep but when he realized it was all fun he laughed & shouted with the rest though he stuck to me like a leech. The children bobbed for apples in a big tub which again he declined to participate in explanation of which he said "there is no room for Jamie" & when we played �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 301 another game in a circle he declined to come in the middle because "there was too much of a crowd." I was rather ashamed of him but considering that it was his first party he did pretty well & looked like a little Prince. When it came to refreshments to my horror I saw him wash down a ham sandwich with three cups of cider & crunching salty almonds & cake & candy! I knew he would be sick & after he got to bed tonight a doleful voice summoned "Mummy"—1 rushed him to the cabinet & all his supper upchucked! Poor little darling—27 The following spring Jamie was big enough to hike with his father to the top of Ferguson, the mountain behind the house. Jim recorded the event. "Jamie and I climbed Ferguson's Peak this afternoon. I carried him on alternate stretches and we had a grand afternoon, getting a view from South Carolina to Tennessee. Jamie was much troubled because he thought the Peak was in the sky and on getting to the top found the sky was still out of reach. He also marvelled that the mountain went down on the other side."28 At about the same time, the curiosity of the little boy overtook him, and he disappeared completely from under the watchful eyes of his nurse. "At noon Puny can not be found— Dragnet out & report comes in that about 10:30 he had appeared in bottom & been sent home on Mr. Ben Nesbitt's wagon—Following up this clue ... I drove to Gerton & on foot to the saw mill when we found the fellow gay as a lark & having had a glorious time with Mr. Nesbitt."29 Jim and Elizabeth's progressive notions made them at first reluctant to spank Jamie. But one night he refused to stay in bed despite all the cajoling and stern lectures his parents could muster, and so his father finally "Had to paddy whack Jamie as he was unmoved by any other force of punishment & got out of his bed by night & by day when supposed to stay in—He was greatly startled but reformed at once."30 Two weeks later, Jim tried a more innovative disciplinary tactic. "Jamie has suddenly become very unruly, getting out of bed on all occasions . . . but my impersonating the Sheriff and having him formally summoned, sentenced and immediately dealt out a summary punishment, we seem to be getting the upper hand of him without drawing upon ourselves any of the rancor that a child should feel for a stern parent. The Sheriff and the writer are two distinct persons" (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to Harriet McClure Stuart, April 16, 1922). Jamie grew up as a boy filled with ideas and projects, stimulated by his life on the farm. One of his first contacts with the animal world, however, taught him the value of prudence and caution. "Jamie has twice been butted by the sheep, each time being knocked off his feet and his dignity seriously hurt, as the second time it occurred he was trying to placate another sheep by sprinkling her with his water pot. He now moves through the pasture heavily armed with a stick with which he hopes to successfully defend himself (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, April 22, 1923). At five years old, he became consumed with the mysteries of egg laying. "Jamie is delving into everything on the farm and his questions are legion. He has succeeded in taming a rooster �302 We Plow God's Fields and secreted him in his closet a few nights ago. Hoarse crowing from this closet about 6 a.m. startled the sleeping household. Jamie had secreted him in the hope that he would lay an egg for breakfast and as he failed to do what was expected of him, Jamie asked me at breakfast 'Why don't roosters have egging powers?'" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 5, 1925) Jamie's father, in the pose of Saint Nicholas, thrilled his own children and all the children on the farm at Christmas. The first performance of the day was scheduled strictly as a family affair, and was described here by the impersonator himself. ". . . Santa himself appeared at five o'clock on Christmas Eve. All the family were on hand to meet him dressed in fancy dress. Mr. Cramer as a naval officer, Aunt Freddie as an 18th Century lady, Miss Patterson as the Queen of Scotland, Jamie as a white rabbit and Elfie as a Gainesborough child. The event was the most happy one" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, December 27, 1925). The following day, Santa made his public appearance for the benefit of all the children living on the farm. Despite the season, ice cream always provided the glorious finale to this occasion. "After [Christmas] dinner we turned and again sped back to Hickory Nut Gap where Santa Claus again appeared to the startled tenants. Ben with his seven children and Zeb with his seven held the family attendance records. As this is the closed season for bathing down here it took some days to air the room out" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 4, 1925). The McClure Christmas was Elizabeth's production. Presents, for her family and the tenant children alike, were judiciously chosen and wrapped with the exquisite taste of an artist. She made the season special at Hickory Nut Gap, and all with an effortless appearance. An appearance of another kind occurred when Elspeth was just six. A legendary and famous disembodied creature appeared to Ben Owenby's daughter Christine, who was helping at the house. Christine, Ben's oldest daughter . . . came out of the Dairy, where she had been pouring the milk and started for the house when she heard someone stumble and looked up and there was a 'hant.' She was dressed "in an old timey sweep tail white dress and her black hair hung in ringlets to her waist." She walked across the court yard and melted into the old kitchen chimney!! This was at once taken as a sign that something was going to happen. The next day Ben was taken with acute appendicitis and rushed to the hospital!! (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February 3, 1929) Elizabeth was familiar with spirits from the time she had spent with her Somerville relatives in Southern Ireland and always enjoyed discussions about them. She vowed it was old Mrs. Sherrill herself who banged doors or knocked on windows on windy nights. Her daughter Elspeth would have found it easy to believe in these spirits, for she loved the kingdoms of the fantastic. Her brother was more interested in machines and airplanes. Although Elspeth found it easier to play with the farm children than her brother did, he was the leader of the group. When she grew older, she resented �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 303 •B I •fit! HI Mi Ker Boone, a farm resident, oversees the harnessing of his dogs for Jamie and Elspeth McClure, July 1925. her nickname "Elfie" because she wanted the Boone children to think she was tough (Mr. Boone was the current farm manager). Elspeth loved nothing so much as building dams and water wheels in the several little streams that started above the Boone's or playing house in the nearby woods. There she was free from the constraints of her upbringing and the more circumscribed behavior demanded of her at home. Both Jamie and Elspeth enjoyed rather unique childhoods, surrounded as they were by all varieties of people. They were able to partake of both the pleasures of the rural life, and the elegance and refinement of their other world in Asheville and beyond. They were also able to enjoy a father and mother who constantly concocted new and remarkable schemes to create fun. Jim was a very popular father in his children's eyes. Elfie was about three when he wrote: "We are enjoying a blanket of snow and today Elspeth went out in her Grandfather's little sleigh and after she had a long ride, she met us at the foot of the mountain as we came home from church. There a shift was made and Jamie was proudly pulled by the car all the way home on his Grandfather's sleigh . . . It is a surprisingly well-made affair" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 10, 1926). By his tenth year, Jamie had moved up to the larger members of the animal kingdom on the farm. The Spring fever has got the best of Jamie and he has decided to feed two calves to sell this fall. Each calf weighs 200 Ibs. and neither have had a halter on, so the last week has been a hectic affair. In order to tame them, Jamie �304 We Plow God's Fields I Left: Jamie and Elspeth on the pastures behind Ferguson, Spring 1929. Right: Mathilda Shorter. keeps them tied and leads them to water night and morning. We never knew whether a calf will shoot out of the barn with a muzzle velocity of 40 miles an hour with Jamie at the back end of the rope or whether Jamie will slowly emerge, pulling with all his might on a balky calf. It is a regular circus performance. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, March 19, 1929) Elspeth remembers one summer afternoon when her brother Jamie came running around the corner of the porch shouting, "John's got a new wife! John's got a new wife!" They ran through the courtyard and there was Mathilda, all smiles, sitting on the bed in John Shorter's tiny house by the woodshed. Mathilda was from New Orleans. She had met John while working for a family summering in the mountains, and she could cook like a dream and care lovingly and dependably for children. She brought joy to Elizabeth. The couple were promptly set up in a little place down below the Huntleys, a rather sketchy house left over from the road builders that Mathilda soon made into a charming cottage. She was a natural artist and was blessed with an imagination to match Elizabeth's. She and John earned a position of greatest respect in the McClure household. Respect for people was one of the strongest of the virtues taught to Jamie and Elspeth by their parents. It was natural and easy for these children to grow up free of racial prejudice with men and women like John, Esther and Mathilda a part of their daily life. All through the twenties Jim was becoming more and more involved in community activities, first in Fairview, then in Asheville, and before long at the �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 305 state level. All his life he was loyal to the Republican party of his class and upbringing, despite moving into the Democratically "Solid South" and despite managing a Farmers cooperative that depended on the help of local and state government. Over the long haul, it was the politicians who would begin courting him, with his influence and, most of all, with his ability to draw a big crowd. Jim made light of his Republican affiliations when he fell into a serious political discussion on the train to Raleigh during President Harding's administration. "... I had a most interesting trip for a political dissension in the Democratic Councils had sprung up and was at white heat. The gentlemen with whom I went to Raleigh were in the thick of this and even tho I am known as a black Republican I sat in with them at their grave and warm councils" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, April 22, 1923). In the 1924 election, the Progressive Party was led by the highly respected Robert LaFollette of Wisconsin. Jim's conservative swing was complete as he joked about his brother Arch's predilection for the more left-wing candidate. "[Ejection day is not far off. I still fear that Alec [Arch] will secretly cast his ballot for LaFollette and I believe he ought to be watched at the Polls" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, October 19, 1924). Jim tried always to take the higher view of politics. His real opponents were the corrupt and ignorant people who had, by deception, graft or whatever, come to hold offices of public trust. No one could demoralize the population more easily than crooked or selfish politicians, and therefore, in order to promote the Kingdom of God, a more altruistic political order would have to assume power. When Jim first came to Fairview, the local Republican party offered to support him in a local election. He was tempted, giving the matter considerable thought, but he declined, wisely, in that it might have jeopardized his ability to organize the Federation. He did enter the shifting tides of Fairview politics, however, by becoming appointed to, and then actively seeking a seat in the powerful local school committee. His commitment to progressive education never wavered despite having to constantly wade against the strong current of self-interest. "The Fairview School year is now at the Commencement state and it is resting somewhat heavily on me as I am now a School Committeeman and the School Committee has to pick the teachers. In a community like ours where everyone has an ax to grind and everyone has a brother, daughter or niece who is a school teacher it is a riotous job" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, May 6, 1923). Two months later, elections were being held. Jim went into the community to stand squarely behind his proposal to centralize the primary and secondary education in the township into one consolidated school building. "In Fairview we are in the midst of a school election." he wrote to the Stuarts, "The campaign is becoming heated and I put in Friday and Saturday electioneering. Our voting day is not until Aug. 6th but we are in the midst of registering at present. Opposition develops on the most surprising grounds, one large faction being opposed because the new school will be on the highway and at least one �306 We Plow God's Fields hundred children per year will be killed by passing cars" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, July 15, 1923). His electioneering tactics were successful, and he became a committee member. The following June he reported a peculiar act of larceny carried on by him and the Committee on behalf of the school children of Fairview. "The Fairview School Committee executed a well planned raid into Yancey County during the week in an effort to run off with a particularly able school principal who is located in the fastness of Yancey. We made our getaway without having a shot fired at us and hope to get our man in the next week or two" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, June 8, 1924). Although he remained a Republican, he was often appointed by the Democratic powers of the state to serve on committees for the public benefit, and Jim took these responsibilities quite seriously. By 1925, he became the natural choice to join the staff of the Bureau of Markets for North Carolina. The job entailed developing markets for the state's agricultural products, and was a paid political appointment. A year later he reluctantly resigned. "I hate to lose the salary," he wrote to Hetty and Doug, "but inasmuch as I have so much Federation business and so much personal business, and inasmuch as political jobs are very open to criticism, I feared that the Federation might be hurt by my hanging on longer to the salary" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, July 4, 1926). Jim was willing to sacrifice almost anything for the Federation. Soon, however, he was appointed to the State Board of Conservation, a volunteer post he greatly relished and for which he worked hard. His first meeting, in January of 1926, was held in Raleigh. We met yesterday in the Governor's Office, the Governor being Chairman of the Board. The Board has under its jurisdiction the State Department of Forestry, the State Department of Geology, Water Powers, & the Development of Manufacturer's, Mines & Minerals. As the Governor is keen on the Development of the Resources of the state we have a big job on our hands & you will have to expect more hot air on North Carolina when next we get together. Out of the seven on the Board, three are Mac's so we should be able to look after the finances. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, 1926) Jim was a sports hunter himself, as well as something of a conservationist in the Teddy Roosevelt mold of scientific soil and water management. He personally worked hard to create better hunting conditions by setting up game refuge areas and wild bird propagation projects. In two years, he could proudly show these concrete results of his work: "We created another game refuge in Macon County in the Nantahala National Forest of 10,000 acres, which is the project I had been working up ... We also voted to operate a small quail farm in Randolph County . . . we will have something like $50,000 to spend on game propagation . . . this will enable us to do some good construction work" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, January 8, 1928). By the end of the decade, Jim McClure's selfless efforts began to gain wider recognition. For once he received an honor that carried no new responsi- �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 307 bilities or requirements on his part. A small Kentucky college, uniquely tied to the education of the Appalachian people, invited him to their graduation in 1929. James Gore King McClure, Jr., son of the Manse, student in the school of Christ: who, joining the seekers of health in the southern mountains, saw the poverty of our people, refused to be content with maudlin pity, romantic contemplation, pauperizing doles; who, with careful statesmanship, began to lay the broad foundations of a better economic life, and of a cooperative commonwealth among the individualistic farmers of the mountains: By the authority conferred upon me by the Trustees of Berea College, I bestow upon you the degree of Doctor of Science, with the certification and the hood appropriate to the degree. President Hutchins31 Of all the many accolades that would in time come to Jim McClure, this honor from Berea College always possessed special significance for him. The trustees of the school were the first to recognize the value of his work, and moreover, they held a special vantage point: the hope of the Federation's goals illuminated the very region to which Berea College had dedicated itself. The Appalachian people, with their traditions of resourcefulness, wanted to be able not just to endure, but to progress and to escape from inhibiting stereotypes. Jim McClure wanted to minister to a region, not only by preaching the gospel of progress, but also by building a new foundation for prosperity. The twenties were such flush times that Jim, like many of his contemporaries, felt that modern economics had unlocked the secrets for a steady growth of wealth in the United States. His assurance in modern business practices gave him the confidence to start the Federation in the first place. With the door to wealth unlocked, the great challenge for America was to maintain its drive for spiritual excellence. Jim worried less about financial collapse than the swamping of the nation's moral fibre in the high waters of prosperity. He understood, like the brilliant writers of the age, that material success leaves one with an empty victory. But unlike Thomas Wolfe, Sinclair Lewis and F. Scott Fitzgerald, he did not respond with bitterness or cynicism: he refused to satirize Homo Americana. In 1926 Jim McClure gathered his thoughts about the destiny of his country, and wrote a paper that he delivered before a distinguished group of intellectuals in Asheville known as the Pen and Plate Club. Dr. Pinckney Herbert had proposed him for membership, and throughout his life he made use of his opportunities to speak there to formulate his deepest convictions. The club's purpose was to stimulate and sharpen the intellect of the members and each paper was followed by a series of penetrating questions from the floor. To Hetty and Doug he confided his struggles in piecing together his first presentation. "My week has been miserable as I have to read the paper next week at the Pen and Plate Club, and I have had to snatch at it when I could. My subject is 'Has �308 We Plow God's Fields Democracy fulfilled its economic purpose?,' and I am daily growing sorrier and sorrier for the poor Pen and Platers" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February 14, 1926). The following excerpts from the paper show the direction of Jim's ideas during this period: HAS DEMOCRACY ACHIEVED ITS ECONOMIC PURPOSE? The impelling forces in human history have almost always been unconscious forces, and it has usually been decades or centuries after an event before these unconscious forces could be rightly analyzed. In this paper I want to make a study of those fundamental forces and hopes of mankind which have created our American Democracy; of the realization of the promise of the creators and of the future possibilities of this great experiment in human co-ordination . . . The great hope which has brought men to our shores can be divided into three chief motives—the hope of Religious Liberty, the hope of Political Liberty, and the hope of Economic Liberty. Of the first, Religious Liberty, it is enough to say that it has been realized to a surprising extent, considering our human frailties and prides and suspicions, and it is with reverence and gratitude that we realize that this hope of religious liberty . . . [has] brought to our shores, as its first permanent settlers, a type of man and woman of such strength of character that they fixed on this great country a tradition of idealism, of fair dealing, of enduring morality and of a God-given destiny which is, perhaps, its chief source of strength and hope for the future . . . The second great hope, Political Liberty and Equality, has also been realized to an extent almost beyond the dreams of the founders of this country. Every man stands equal before the law, and casts his independent vote. The people decide the issues and policies which their representatives carry o u t . . . We have our political defects, so serious and so dangerous, that some voices among us appear to be on the verge of despair, but we have achieved in theory the political liberty and equality for which our forefathers fought. The third great hope which has peopled our shores has always been the hope of economic liberty and equality. And it is with our realization of this dream that my paper will be concerned. Even those who first came to America to achieve religious and political freedom, seem to have had also the hope of economic betterment. And the great bulk of our immigrants have come with this single purpose. The Promise of America has been a promise of economic independence and prosperity. "Neither race nor tradition," says Professor Hug Muensterberg in his volume on "The Americans," "nor the actual past, binds the American to his countrymen, but rather the future which, together, they are building." From the beginning the Americans have been cemented together by a vision of a future. Most nations have their national tradition, built around the past of glory or struggle, but with us in America it is, and has ever been, our future that appeals even more strongly to our loyalty and imagination. And the dominant note in this projected ideal is a future in which economic prosperity will be still more abundant and still more accessible than it has ever been. It is this hope �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 309 Elspeth standing on south side of McClure home, 'with bleeding heart and narcissus planted in the myrtle." [Elizabeth McClure's note.] which invites the native American and the alien immigrant. Men come here because they hope to have a better chance and a fairer opportunity than the Old World can afford . .. Our democracy, with its practical and proven faith in the equality of political and religious opportunity, has released the people of America from the millstone of social inhibition that has hung round the neck of all peoples of all times. This social inhibition has deadened ambition, stifled hope, and smothered energy. Ambition and hope are the parents of energy. Put ambition and hope into the heart of a young man, and they will drive him fast and far. He will extend himself. His power will develop as his pace increases. Energy will keep generating within him. And the releasing of this chief driving power of human progress in the hearts and minds of these, the people of the United States, has given a momentum to social progress that can never stop. The people of America are making more rapid progress toward this goal of economic equality and prosperity than they realize. Wealth is increasing at a rapid rate, and prosperity is becoming more and more diffused. We are approaching equality among occupations. The wages of manual labor have been going higher and higher, and as between the manual jobs and the white collar jobs of the mediocre sort, there is practical equality now . . . .. . We all know that the carpenter and the plumber, and now even the unskilled laborer, rides to work in his car. The manufacturer recognizes this diffusion of wealth. His vision is to make goods that are universally used—to make goods so well and so cheap that they will be used in every home. Our �310 We Plow God's Fields manufacturers do not advertise "Purveyors to His Majesty," but instead, "A Million Satisfied Users. ..." . . . They say that we are so strong financially that the entire wealth of the Roman Empire could be passed through our bank clearing in a single day and only the statisticians would notice the bulge. This tremendous economic prosperity has come, I believe, because the democratic form of government which we have created has called forth the ambitions and hopes and energies and talents of the people. Democracy has fulfilled its economic promise, and its economic momentum is gathering strength each day. This diffused prosperity has come to us, as we held to the ideal of economic freedom and liberty. It came to us as we were following the ideal. We can only retain it as we continue to follow the ideal. Wealth, when sought for itself, eludes the grasp or turns to bitterness when grasped. Unless America keeps her aims vitally idealistic, her doom is sealed. There is no life except as spiritual ideals are held to. We must carry out this idea of a more equable division of wealth. And further, we have been so busy creating this wealth that we have had no time to think why we wanted it. We must now set ourselves to alchemize our newfound wealth and leisure into spiritual and intellectual gains; into those things that permanently satisfy the soul of mankind.32 The man who penned these words was describing the bedrock on which he based his optimism for the American future, the same future that he envisioned as the source of American national unity. Four years later, that faith would be severely tested by the Great Depression. As Jim advised here, each man or woman must constantly check his or her personal motivations and adherence to ideals. Asheville and Buncombe County in 1926 were the scene of the beginning of a colossal hysteria, a money-mad binge that would eventually leave both entities bankrupt. Real estate values increased so rapidly that nearly everyone who had a little money could join the delusion and create a paper fortune. The whole tottering structure would blow away like smoke in 1930, leaving behind countless examples of financial devastation. Soul searching would become the order of the day. Jim McClure did not escape this tragedy, but he understood what happened to men when their souls had lost their idealistic moorings. By the end of the twenties, his own life had become a marvel of variety, a circus of activities and projects. His powers of inspiration and judgement were being constantly tested. He discovered, thankfully, that his own sermons were prophetic. If one but gave himself up to the powers of God, his maker would grant the wisdom and strength to accomplish the task. Jim's God had given him a wife who shared his ideals, and two children who gave his life a center and a refuge from all the pressures he had created for himself. He had learned how to relax, when to enjoy the restorative entertainments that came his way. The end of the decade, though, proved also to be the end of an era. Not only would the style of entertainment shift, but the very faith in progress and democracy that had helped to fuel the American economy, and the Farmers Federation, would �Hickory Nut Gap in the Twenties 311 be sorely tested by the ensuing depression. Jim's own financial stability would be sorely threatened as well, but his vision of a better future failed to crumble into cynicism. On the eve of this particular national disaster, the Federation was thriving, his family was bursting with enterprise, and he and his wife remained healthy. Even in the worst of times, these are gifts worthy of a man's thankfulness. 1. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 2. Interview with Mrs. James E. Davidson. 3. Ibid. 4. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 5. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary, May 30, 1921. 6. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, September 26, 1921. 7. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary, September 26, 1920. 8. Ibid., April 30, 1918. 9. Ibid., February 14, 1920. 10. James G. K. McClure, Jr., sermon given at Fairview Baptist Church, August 6, 1922. 11. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 12. James G. K. McClure, Jr. Graduation address, Asheville School, date unknown. 13. Interview with Frances Herbert. 14. Ibid. 15. Interview with Lawrence Huntley. 16. Ibid. 17. Interview with Mrs. James Davidson. 18. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary, April 1, 1922. 19. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, April 21, 1922. 20. Ibid., April 22, 1922. 21. Ibid., November 9, 1922. 22. Ibid., Novembers, 1922. 23. Telegram from Mildred Burrage to Elizabeth and Jim McClure, February 4, 1923. 24. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 25. Interview with Mrs. James E. Davidson. 26. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, October 18, 1923. 27. Elizabeth Cramer McClure, diary, October 31, 1922. 28. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary,May 6, 1923. 29. James G. K. McClure, diary, April 23, 1923. 30. James G. K. McClure, Jr., diary, March 31, 1922. 31. Honorary Degree from Berea College, conferred June 1929. 32. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Has Democracy Fulfilled its Economic Purpose?" paper given before the Pen and Plate Club, Asheville, North Carolina, February 18,1926. �Chapter Sixteen Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression Whether Siddy and I can keep our place is a question—tho at present we can not sell it and as we are down to a cook only, we will live there as cheaply as anywhere .. . We will keep our house if we can but will try to sell any part of the farm that we may get an offer for. (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to the Stuarts, no date) By 1929, Jim and Elizabeth McClure had become deeply involved in Western North Carolina. The Farmers Federation was expanding. Jim had begun his trips north to raise money for the development of new enterprises to help the mountain people. Elizabeth had put her heart and artistic gifts to work fixing up the old inn, planting boxwoods and flowering borders, and entering into the lives of her neighbors. As suddenly as a bolt of lightning the financial crash that heralded the Great Depression threatened everything they were working for. It was the real estate boom and bust that did the most harm to the economy of the mountains in general, and the McClures in particular. Ownership of land had always been important in Western North Carolina, ever since the first settlers came over the Blue Ridge Mountains. Like those pioneers, Jim and Elizabeth had come with an independent spirit, seeking land of their own and freedom from outworn ideas. For the early settlers land and wealth were synonymous, for so it had been for as long as memory served back in their old countries. There had been two mild land booms before and after the Civil War, but nothing in the past could have prepared the local citizenry for what happened during the twenties. A fit of real estate covetousness took hold in Western North Carolina, especially in Buncombe County. By the latter part of the decade, this fit had grown into a full-fledged delusion. All up and down Asheville's Patton Avenue real estate offices were scattered, each one filled with enthusiastic and urgent salesmen generating a faith in the never ending upward spiral of land values. Oftentimes the realtors would hire bands to play out on the sidewalks, creating a carnival air that promoted the general hysteria. Inside a realtor's office, one might enjoy a free lunch in exchange for glancing through a few brochures. Sharp real estate dealers, known as "binder boys," had poured into the mountains after a hurricane had wrecked their game in South Florida. They knew how to bind an imprudent person to one of their contracts, and Buncombe County seemed to have the right mix of wealthy tourists and beautiful undevel- 312 �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 313 oped property to suit them. After all, Asheville was to the summer tourists what Miami was to their winter counterparts. The binder boys wanted to exploit the wealthy and glamorous people who had been attracted to the cool, beautiful mountains of North Carolina. Author Thomas Wolfe, in You Can't Go Home Again, described the setting for this land boom and its focal point, Asheville, as he saw it when he returned after a long absence. The sleepy little mountain village in which he had grown up—for it had been hardly more than that then—was now changed almost beyond recognition. The very streets that he had known so well, and had remembered through the years in their familiar aspect of early-afternoon emptiness and drowsy lethargy, were now foaming with life, crowded with expensive traffic, filled with new faces he had never seen before . . . But what he noticed chiefly—and once he observed it he began watching for it, and it was always there—was the look on the people's faces. It puzzled him, and frightened him, and when he tried to find a word to describe it, the only thing he could think of was—madness . . . The faces of natives and strangers alike appeared to be animated by some secret and unholy glee . .. The real estate men were everywhere. Their motors and busses roared through the streets of the town and out into the country, carrying crowds of prospective clients. One could see them on the porches of houses unfolding blueprints and prospectuses as they shouted enticements and promises of sudden wealth into the ears of deaf old women. Everyone was fair game for them—the lame, the halt, and the blind Civil War veterans or their decrepit pensioned widows, as well as high school boys and girls, Negro truck drivers, soda jerkers, elevator boys, and bootblacks. . . . And there seemed to be only one rule, universal and infallible—to buy, always to buy, to pay whatever price was asked, and to sell again within two days at any price one choose to fix. It was fantastic.1 This fantasy world was built on easy credit, and encouraged the collusion of men who should have known better, but had neither the will nor even the desire to try to break the momentum of such wild speculation. Wolfe's description continued: The town was burgeoning rapidly and pushing out into the wilderness, people were confident of a golden future, no one gave a second thought to the reckless increase in public borrowing. Bond issues involving staggering sums were being constantly "floated" until the credit structure of the town was built up into a teetering inverted pyramid and the citizens no longer owned the streets they walked on. The proceeds of these enormous borrowings were deposited with the bank. The bank for its part, then returned these deposits to the politicians or to their business friends, supporters, allies, and adherents—in the form of tremendous loans, made upon the most flimsy and tenuous security, for purposes of private and personal speculation.2 �314 We Plow God's Fields One example of the boom spreading into the "wilderness" around Asheville occurred in the valley just below Hickory Nut Gap Farm. A development known as "Hollywood" was being platted and sold there by the quarter-acre. Busses came from Asheville, hauling prospective buyers to walk about on fields covered with the stubble of last year's corn crop. And yet the grandiose visions of lakes and golf courses, as described in the sales pitch, made believers of many. During the late twenties, Asheville's real estate market began to resemble a large scale poker game, as the frenzied buying and selling took hold of the local psychology. Nearly everyone with a little money counted himself in on the stakes. People proudly bragged of their winnings, spurring on others to jump into the action. What was to happen to all this prosperity, and why? By the late twenties many an American had made his bundle of money. The rich citizens of the era were able to glut themselves on the trinkets of the age—fine automobiles and grandiose homes, along with the new mass-produced gadgets that were the source of so many of these fortunes. Asheville itself had become something of a trinket, a place to enjoy a lavish summer at a resort hotel in the cool of the beautiful mountains. George Vanderbilt's choice of the area to build his great house, and the continuing presence of his widow in the exclusive suburb of Biltmore Forest (developed from a portion of the Vanderbilt estate), lent an aura of credibility to social Asheville. But even these conspicuous consumers could not find enough goods and services to buy, and so turned increasingly towards investment as a haven for their cash. Inevitably, the market for stocks and real estate became dangerously overinflated. During the summer of 1929 the stock values began to sag, foreshadowing the collapse of a nation's investment portfolio. Investors, money managers and business executives began to feel concern, followed by desperation, then by panic. By late fall, the soaring values of stocks and bonds came crashing down and stayed down. On cue, like the midnight stroke in Cinderella, just as the decades shifted, the glitter of the twenties ball was turning into the rags of the Depression. For Buncombe County the fantasy ended the morning the Central Bank and Trust Company failed to open its doors, November 20, 1930. The previous day Jim was on the train travelling towards Raleigh, perhaps to a Conservation and Development meeting. From some of his fellow passengers he heard a rumor that the Central Bank was in trouble, and even might close soon. The train always made a short stop in Greensboro. He jumped off and hurried to call Elizabeth. The next morning she set forth for town with John Shorter at the wheel of the Hudson. At the top of Coxe Avenue, they saw the line of cars reaching a mile down Patton Avenue to Pack Square, where the bank's doors were already shut forever.3 Behind the doors was not only an insolvent bank, but also almost all the financial assets of the City of Asheville and Buncombe County. Both had to default on their interest payments. A long line of people were filing past the bank as if viewing the open coffin of a close relative. Nearby, the mayor of �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 315 Asheville put a gun to his head, not willing to endure the shame of the disclosure of his illicit dealings with Central president Wallace Davis, who would himself spend time in the penitentiary. The mess was left for lawyers and the courts to sort out. But these events affected people all over the region. Only a few weeks before Elizabeth had persuaded their cook, the widow Edith Williams, to take her savings out from under her mattress and put them in the bank for safekeeping. As the house of cards came tumbling down in Buncombe County, the universal rule became: "Sell, sell at any price." But no one was buying now. The Hollywood development below Hickory Nut Gap grew up in scrub pines and blackberries. The unfortunates who had bought lots there would never see a golf course, and could hardly afford to build a house. As the chain reaction of failed banks spread through Western North Carolina, counties and municipalities, businesses and individuals were ruined. Months rolled into years and the situation worsened. Jim's lawyer explained to him that Buncombe County owed more than $50 million, making the debt per $100 valuation work out to about $46, effectively reducing the market for local real estate to the vanishing point. To buy local property meant also to buy a portion of that debt. There is no doubt that this area was one of those hardest hit in the entire country. A number of responsible, community minded citizens, among them Jim's young Mend, Julian A. Woodcock, Jr., set up a sinking fund to begin paying off this debt. He was in charge of the final liquidation party, celebrated in 1979. Before the crash, Jim's assumption that his wife's share of the Skinner fortune would provide amply for the family's future was reasonable. As the two aunts, Elizabeth (Bessie) and Frederika (Freddie), declined in health with the years he had figured that future material needs would be cared for by their estates and that, as a good steward, he should invest the money at his disposal to bring the greatest return. Jim McClure believed in the local land game, and he jumped in with the hope that he could develop an investment income sufficient to allow him to work for the Federation without salary. And besides, he couldn't resist the excitement. He used Elizabeth's money, swelled by her legacy from Aunt Bessie, who died in 1923, and the money Aunt Freddie gave him to invest, to form the North State Corporation (Aunt Freddie had come to live in Asheville). By 1929, the company had amassed a long list of holdings. Lots in Asheville were a very liquid asset during the twenties, and Jim and his North State Corporation were fairly floating in this particular commodity. There were Amboy lots, Ardmion lots, Forest Hill lots, Roberts Street lots, Kimberly lots, Biltmore Avenue lots, and Takoistie Trail lots; not to mention three houses, three farms, and a store. Outside of town, Jim owned an interest in a large tract of land in the Wayehutta section of Jackson County, an interest in 36,000 acres along the upper Pidgeon River in Hay wood County known as Sherwood Forest, and a share in 14,000 acres along the headwaters of the Tuckasegee River in Jackson �316 We Plow God's Fields County. Up in Yancey County, Jim invested $6,000 in a cyanite mining company. By the end of 1930, Jim and his company owned, or had an interest in, twenty-eight pieces of property, with taxes due in January of 1931.4 Jim McClure's motives for buying all of this property might have been more idealistic than some of the other local schemers, but the disastrous financial results of the crash hit him just as hard when the doomsday bell sounded. North State collapsed in the real estate debacle. During the thirties, it was all Jim and Elizabeth could do to keep Hickory Nut Gap Farm. The figures tell the plight of the McClure family. At the end of 1931 the value of their assets still maintained a healthy lead over their liabilities, but a year later their assets were sinking much more rapidly than their liabilities. Moreover, the assets they had were mostly Buncombe County properties that were almost impossible to sell at any price. By 1933 the minus column surpassed the plus column by more than $10,000, creating great gloom up at Hickory Nut Gap. Elizabeth's inheritance, locked up in the Northern Trust Company of Chicago until the last of Ambrose Cramer, Sr.'s children should die, had ceased paying dividends. Jim began taking a small salary from the Farmers Federation, as he could no longer afford to contribute his services as he had been doing, and he made every possible economy on the farm. He wrote soberly to Doug Stuart, "I know you are right about the necessity of my clearing up our situation, but it is a complicated matter to work out. I now wish I had taken your advice four years ago and let all the properties go" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Doug Stuart, exact date unknown). The number of farm hands was trimmed and those who remained received lower wages. For most of these families, cash was still something of a luxury and as long as they had a house and a garden place they could "make it." Jamie must have been eleven years old and Elspeth about eight when the financial troubles reached their depths. Elizabeth faced the necessary changes in their way of life squarely, with her customary humor and gallantry. One morning she made a special time to explain to her small daughter that she would be counting on her to help with many household chores. Elspeth remembers listening quietly, knowing this was serious business for the grown-ups. But secretly she was thrilled at the prospect of making beds and sweeping floors with her delightful mother, who always made a shared task fun. Jamie was equally eager to take on more farm chores; but being children they doubtless wearied of their duties soon and sometimes forgot them. Mr. Will Boone became farm manager when James Davidson left. He was a direct descendent of Daniel Boone and a representatives of the independent tradition of the mountains. He had two daughters close to Jamie's age, Adeline and May, and a son, Richard, just a few months younger than "Sis," as Elspeth now liked to be called. Jamie was the intrepid leader of these children's many adventures. Elspeth remembers the joys of playing hide and seek in the old barn, prisoner's base in the special soft grass that grew in front of the Boone's house, and dodge ball in the dry, dusty backyard. With great labor, under Jamie's �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 317 direction, they dug a pond in the pasture between the big house and the Boone's that actually filled with muddy water deep enough for swimming. One of the most distressing days she can remember was when a doctor, who had come to see her mother about occasional severe headaches, condemned the pond as a hot-bed of typhoid fever germs. Elizabeth was always careful about matters of health, and swimming in the pond was thereafter forbidden. After that it was remarkable how frequently people fell in. The Huntley family moved to the farm several years later. Jamie used to go down to play the banjo with Frances, who played the guitar, while his little sisters Evelyn and Betty sang. Theirs was a musical family. It was whispered that Rev. David Huntley had been the best fiddler for miles around in his youth, but when he was called to preach he put his fiddle away and never touched it again. Now he wrote hymns, complete with music, to be sent off to the Stamps Baxter Company, which published the Paperback hymnals widely used in the country churches. When he drove Elizabeth to town he always put on a sober suit and composed hymns while he waited for her to do her errands. Life went on happily at Hickory Nut Gap Farm, in spite of the loss of the upstairs and downstairs maids. Elizabeth never complained and made everyone around her happy with her enthusiasm for new ventures. They were "down to a cook only:" as Jim wrote to Hetty and Doug, but there was another figure in the household who helped Elizabeth hold it all together. Miss Agnes Paterson was a Scottish lady who was nurse, governess and dear friend from about 1928 right through the worst years of the Depression. Miss Pat was, as she herself put it, a "bright Christian," incredibly thin, a mere wisp of a woman, conscientious, thoughtful and gentle, but brave as a lion if she felt one of her charges was in danger. Elspeth remembers her rushing up the lawn and through the rock garden to stop the headstrong Shetland pony Neddy, who was running away with her down the steep gravel road to the barn. This in spite of the fact that she was physically fragile, and given to spells of lumbago (a dire pain in the back). Miss Paterson was able to take responsibility for the complicated household when Elizabeth had to be away during Aunt Freddie's last illness. Under Elizabeth's direction, she taught Jamie and Elspeth. She was a gentle influence in the rough farm world. Miss Frederika Skinner lived gamely on through the first months of the debacle of the North State Company's fortunes, spending much of her time in bed recovering from a broken hip. She had given Jamie an electric train, which he had set up in the attic with an elaborate system of tunnels under magazines and loops around family trunks. Elspeth remembers Aunt Freddie riding proudly up in the dumbwaiter to the attic to witness the train in action. Aunt Freddie died in the fall of 1930. Jim was on a money raising expedition in Philadelphia, but rushed home when he received word that she was failing. He and Ambrose were the executors of her estate. Miss Freddie's death marked the transfer of the Skinner estate from one generation to another. Elizabeth received the bulk of its worth, but it quickly �318 We Plow God's Fields Left: "Preacher" David Huntley Right: Miss Agnes Patterson became apparent that this inheritance would prove a burden rather than the source of financial freedom for the McClure family. From the time Aunt Freddie died in 1930 to November, 1932, her estate lost $471,155 in value. It was in fact an empty treasure chest, and Jim and Ambrose had to spend long hours corresponding with institutions and individuals to whom Aunt Freddie had left legacies, including aged household helpers and a heroic Vermont poetess, Miss Salley Cleghorn. Finally they simply had to divvy up the list of worthless Buncombe County properties and send deeds to the various recipients. It would be one more lesson for Jim, as the whole affair settled in his mind, of the foolishness of putting one's faith in the material world. When he saw how matters were going Jim wrote to Doug Stuart a letter, part plea and part apologetic explanation: Dear Doug, . . . Elizabeth and I had always "figured" that when Aunt Bessie's and Aunt Freddie's estates were divided up that her share would pay up all our indebtedness and that there would be about $250,000.00 principal left for �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 319 income. Due to the tremendous shrinkage of the two estates, the cash legacies took almost all of Aunt Bessie's. What was left for Siddy was applied on our debts with a few stocks of very little value still on hand. By the time some stocks . . . reached Siddy they were valueless. Aunt Freddie's estate ended up with no cash at all but some properties came to Elizabeth and me, and also some debts come with some of them. The final windup of the estates instead of leaving us out of debt and with a good income, finds us with a large indebtedness and a lot of property for which there is no market . . . As to your suggestion of letting properties go, this is just what I should like to do but it also presents difficulties . . . If I can pledge the Cyanite stock and the Sherwood Forest stock in friendly hands, I can then let one or two of the creditors take a judgement and when they find they can get nothing, I think I can settle . . . at a low figure, provided I have the cash from the pledged stock to make the settlement. As to the Banks there is nothing to do but keep trying to sell some property and try to do this before interest and taxes eat us up ... I am doing everything I know how to do to get rid of this debt, and if you have any suggestions, I shall be only too glad to have them. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Douglas Stuart, no date) This letter to Doug Stuart, asking him to become the "friendly hands" of his financial salvation, was difficult to write. Doug, who was financially secure, would help him out of course, because he and Harriet were loyal relations and friends, but not before questioning Jim's business judgement. The Quaker Oats executive had listened over the years to his brother-in-law's many social theories and his youthful anti-capitalist sentiments. Now Jim was financially prostrate and struggling to avoid the economic ruin that the collapse of land values had brought on. His investments must have seemed reckless to a competent and hard-nosed businessman like Doug Stuart. He thought Jim McClure's business notions tended to be over-optimistic; that his belief in the steady progress of prosperity was too sanguine. He loved and respected the man of vision, and he and Harriet backed him up from first to last. Nevertheless the present circumstances justified Doug's cautious business sense, and made Jim feel irresponsible. They both lived in a business culture, where every man stood before the world as a commercial success or failure. The pride of many men was based on their personal success in the marketplace. It was a mask worn at all the social functions of their kind. The shock of the Depression stripped many of these men naked; too often suicide became the alternative to facing up to one's contemporaries in the new role of "failure." Jim McClure's life was built on more enduring values, and although he faced a desperate financial situation, his faith carried him through. His identity was too rooted in the spiritual world to be shaken by material difficulties. But he must have been deeply worried about the future of his family. Doug Stuart did come to the rescue, by buying one-half interest in the Tuckasegee property and interests in some of the others, thus helping Jim and Elizabeth through this difficult period. The education of Elspeth and Jamie became another burden for Jim and �320 We Plow God's Fields Elspeth riding the "airplane" on the porch, February 1930. Elizabeth during these years. They were both determined to give them "the advantages" that had meant so much in their own lives when they were growing up. Jamie was bright and tended to be opinionated, and they worried that life on the farm provided him too little companionship and left him too much by himself reading in his room. Dr. Emerson, a child specialist whom they respected, assured them that a slightly truculent son who did not want to take suggestions was quite natural and recommended a summer at Birch Rock Camp in Maine. He assured them that such an experience would give him an entirely different point of view, especially about home. Jamie did spend two summers there, soaking up the New England atmosphere his parents prized and learning to get along with boys his own age. He played baseball, learned to swim, which was difficult to do on the farm as there was no deep water for miles, and fought and made friends with other campers. At home on the farm two of Doug and Harriet Stuart's daughters, Anne and Margaret, were spending the summer, and he wrote to his sister: "How are you getting along without me? I am wishing I was with you every minute. From Mummy's letters I have heard that you and the Stuarts are having a fine time. Have you had a wrestling match with Margaret: If so, who won . . . ? There's a sailboat race in August, and several of us are engrossed in boatmaking" (Jamie McClure to Elspeth McClure, June 1930). His interest in sailing, begun at camp, would be a lasting one for this land-locked mountain boy. The next year, on his way to camp, the indomitable Aunt Wiggy, now dean of women at Simmons College in Boston, met him between trains and sent back to Elizabeth a perceptive account of his short visit. She wisely took him to see an exhibit on engines, where she left him for a time to do an errand. "Jamie, will you stay just here if I go down & telegraph?" "Why, Aunt Wiggy! What do you think. You couldn't get me away from here." �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression il l ;,;:; %»;- Jl il F- ^" -* ,r . 1 - ' -TU.^.*^ Jamie McClure. ... always he was most absorbed. I always had to talk to him to make him aware of my presence. At the Hudson (20th Century) interior I would find him consulting the chart, and then nipping back to the engine, simply enraptured— I never saw such a perfect—"dead to the world."..! succeeded in getting him away from the trains by getting him to come to select a model of the engine in which he was so interested . . . We would be walking along and he would put his arm "round my shoulder and saunter on talking, talking oblivious . . . We got up to the Claremont [Hotel] a little ahead of time to his joy! as he wanted to watch "the shipping." I could scarcely get him in. It was boiling and he, at once, before one could wink, started to take off his coat. It was so funny! The waiter said you can't take off your coat and Jamie said "I should think comfort came before beauty!" but he kept his coat on. He ordered just the things he wanted and enjoyed supper hugely in both senses of the word. He 321 �322 We Plow God's Fields did seem to be very happy watching the ferries and eating at the same time. (Martha Clarke to Elizabeth Cramer McClure, Summer of 1931) The camp experience certainly served to smooth some rough edges for this most enthusiastic and outspoken young man. He added his interest in sailing to his fascination with Charles Lindberg's flight across the Atlantic to France. Elspeth remembers the flying school he conducted with herself as pupil. At the green table on the porch, where the family ate their meals all summer, she learned the parts of a plane and learned to "fly" a tricycle made to look like an airplane by pushing it up to the top of the rock garden and driving it fast down the sharp angles of the path, to crash land in the box bushes at the foot of the lawn. In the courtyard Jamie began building an airplane as large as the Spirit of St. Louis out of beaverboard. She was as convinced as he that someday it would soar over the farm. School was of course an even more important question for these children. Elizabeth herself had taught Jamie at first, using the Calvert method. The Calvert School in Baltimore carried on a correspondence course that reached worldwide, and was used by families in lonely areas. The emphasis was on art, history and literature. Miss Paterson took over the daily teaching, but Elizabeth always kept close to the school room. Home teaching was not a permanent solution. Jamie was sent to a small private school in Asheville, the Grove Park School, for fourth and fifth grades, then to public school in Fairview. On the first day in public school he came gleefully home announcing, "Eighteen boys in the class and I had a fight with seventeen." He enjoyed his year, made some Mends and was fortunate to have an excellent teacher, Miss Sally Merrill. But his parents, sensitive to the mountain accent and determined on the best possible education for their precocious son, sent him the next year to the Asheville School for Boys, a private boarding school on the far side of Asheville. He had a scholarship and to save paying board and keep Jamie in the family for a little longer, he lived at home. Father and son left the house at 6:45 a.m. six days a week. Saturday was a school day. This made such a long day for Jamie that the next year they let him board. Jamie was growing up to be as inquisitive a young man as he had been as a boy. Machines, engines, ships, locomotives and the rest continued to enthrall him. He was neither a great athlete nor a smooth ladies' man, but remained enthusiastically bookish. He spent hours studying Jayne's Fighting Ships, the famed authority of the navies of the world, and could recognize the profile of every American naval vessel. Jane Raoul Bingham, then a young Biltmore Forest belle, recalls attending a dance at the Asheville School that she had been anticipating for some time. The McClures and Raouls were old friends, but Jane's heart sank when she met up with Jamie, who was several years younger. He insisted on taking her over to view a room full of science exhibits, which he thought much more stimulating than the fearful constraints of a boys' school dance. Poor Jane dutifully followed her little friend, to see what were to her the �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 323 dullest objects imaginable. While he explained the beautiful order of science, she would hear the tantalizing strains of the dance music.5 As we have seen, the educational and religious traditions of New England meant much to both Jim and Elizabeth, so they decided the Hotchkiss School in Lakeville, Connecticut, was the place they wanted Jamie to go for high school if possible. They liked the values the school stood for and they respected the headmaster, George Van Santvoord, known to the boys as "The Duke." Jim wrote to him in November 1932, asking if the school could offer some scholarship aid. When this work [the Farmers Federation] first started in 19201 contributed my time and this I was able to do for seven years. The Farmers Federation then started to pay me a small salary. Business conditions have swept away our entire income and resources except for this salary from the Farmers Federation. This salary is not sufficient to send Jamie to a good school and in fact it is with great difficulty that we are able to live at all. He is on a scholarship basis at The Asheville School. I feel that the work here must be carried on irrespective of financial inducement elsewhere and I shall not leave it. We are very anxious to have Jamie at Hotchkiss. Mrs. McClure and I were brought up in the North and tho the excellence of the Asheville School is unquestioned, we are eager that Jamie whose whole life has been spent in the Southern Mountains shall have the standards and influence of Hotchkiss and New England. I trust that Jamie will dedicate himself to a life of usefulness. It has been the tradition of our family and I hope that if you can see your way clear to granting him a scholarship that he may be of value and use to the school. I know that it will mean everything to him. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to George Van Santvoord, November 1932) Jamie was accepted at Hotchkiss with a scholarship and worked hard throughout his four years. At that time scholarship boys waited on tables, cleaned bathrooms and did other chores while paying students did not. He loved the school, and greatly enjoyed working on the newspaper. He made some good friends, especially Jack Butler, who spent his summers sailing on Cape Cod, an opportunity that he generously shared with his mountain roommate. Jamie loved everything about the ocean and sailing more and more. At Hotchkiss he was well prepared for his father's college and won the Yale Hotchkiss scholarship for his freshman year. But this is getting ahead of the story. Back at Hickory Nut Gap, Jamie's pleasures continued to be his books, hunting and fishing, helping out with the farm work and, as he grew older, taking part in the work of the Federation. He was a fearless fellow, who entered into any activity from pitching hay to dancing at the country club with boundless enthusiasm. He was learning to play the banjo from "Pistol Pete" Taylor of the Farmers Federation String Band and loved to sing the mountain ballads, which were a delight to his mother, especially. Some of the family's happiest times were spent at Tuckasegee, the one �324 We Plow God's Fields land interest saved from the crash. It was a glorious retreat. There the head waters of the Tuckasegee River gather together and are forced through gorges and over waterfalls to create spectacular sights. The property lies in one of the most remote and beautiful parts of Western North Carolina, in the recesses of Jackson County. It can be reached only by a narrow road, which was so bad in those days that if it rained you couldn't get back until the mud dried. The river was a paradise for trout and for fishermen. The churning, tumbling waters fall from 4,000 to 2,500 feet on this property alone, making as dramatic a landscape as North Carolina has to offer. At intervals tributary streams come rushing down the steep sides of the gorge. The lower gorge, called the Shut In because it is so difficult to pass through, begins where Bonas Defeat Cliff rises 500 feet from the stream bed. The cliff was named for a fabled hound named Bonas who chased a deer for three days until both were so exhausted they could only walk. Reaching the top of the cliff the deer gathered his strength for a final rush, whirling back to safety at the cliffs edge. Old Bonas matched the deer's rush, but was unable to stop and fell to his death on the rocks below. The Tuckasegee property had been purchased in August of 1926 by four Asheville men, including Charles A. Webb, P. H. Branch and Jim Stikeleather, Sr., the latter a trustee of the Educational and Development Fund of the Farmers Federation. They bought the nearly 14,000-acre tract for a little over a quarter of a million dollars, or about eighteen dollars an acre. There were several small interior holdings, including a seventy-acre farm, along the most level section of the stream, above the old mill dam where the river plunged into a narrow defile. The owner, John Hamp Smith, lived in a simple two-story frame house that was suitable for a club house. He had no faith in a man's personal check, so George Ward of Waynesville, acting as agent, went up with $6,545.82 in gold and silver and counted it out to Mr. and Mrs. Smith as they sat by their hearth. Jim Stikeleather interested Jim McClure in buying a share of the property. Cameron Morrison, a former governor of North Carolina, and others soon joined the group. These men dreamed of creating a retreat from the strains of civilization that many men endured in their pursuit of wealth. The Tuckasegee Rod and Gun Club brochures were printed early in 1929. One hundred memberships were to be paid at a stiff price of $7500 each. The bottom dropped out of land values just as the brochures were ready, and not even Jim McClure could sell a membership in this scheme. He and the others were saddled with an enormous property and its debts, at a time when it was hard to sell mountain land to anyone at any price. Fortunately the headwaters of the Tuckasegee River lie in one of Eastern America's rainiest districts, and consequently the trees grow very rapidly. After Doug Stuart took over his half interest, Jim, acting as agent for the remaining owners, was able to arrange a long-term timber sale to the Gennett Lumber Company. A pall of gloom descended at Hickory Nut Gap at the thought of cutting the great trees, but careful arrangements were made with the company �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 325 to stay 300 feet from the banks of the Tuckasegee and its major tributaries. Later, Jamie and his Mends got a tremendous thrill out of riding the old engine, called the Black Satchel, which pulled the logging train, and the remains of the railroad lines served as walking and riding trails to remote parts of the property long after the rails were pulled up and the ties and trestles rotted away. The most important benefit was that the timber sales paid the taxes and the salary of the wardens for many, many years. Both Jamie and Elspeth loved weekend trips to Tuckasegee, and their parents encouraged them to take their friends. Hetty and Doug Stuart did make a few a visits there, but they were soon absorbed in a ranch in Wyoming where they would spend all available free time. Two of their daughters, Anne and Margaret, spent three summers at Hickory Nut Gap Farm. Harriet must have been pleased to have the girls come under the happy influence of her friend Elizabeth, and the McClures were delighted to have the girls and some other young people as well to be playmates for Elspeth and Jamie. Jim wrote to Hetty describing some activities of the first summer, 1930: Yesterday they spent the morning riding on the hay wagon which was hauling in the oats—and the day before they had a treasure hunt which was the most amusing thing I have ever seen. Siddy had instructions for them at different points, dragons had to be slain, a princess was found gagged and bound to a tree, invisible coats were worn during part of the hunt and all in all—I have never read more absorbing directions or seen a hunt carried out with more fervor—It took all morning and they came in exhausted but with the treasure in hand. Siddy even hid marbles in the sand pile, and the entire sandpile had to be dug over by hand before the requisite number were found. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart July 27, 1930) One summer two of Arthur Page's sons, Arthur and Johnnie, and Jim's nephew, Nate McClure, joined the gang. The family employed a college student to lead the boys on camping trips and in farm work projects. Elizabeth gave art lessons, and wrote and directed a play about SherrilTs Inn in Civil War days. Anne, Margaret and Elspeth almost undermined a foundation wall in the basement trying to make a fireplace for the stage, until Elizabeth discovered them and showed them how to make a better fireplace with the cardboard boxes that had held canning jars. Nate McClure, an impulsive young man of good heart, sliced his finger in the bean frenching machine and had to have stitches. One Sunday he put all his summer's allowance into the collection plate when the extended family attended John and Mathilda Shorter's colored church on Brush Creek for a special preaching day. Miss Paterson somehow lived through these summers when her "little Elspie" became unruly with the support of her Stuart cousins. The children fought, teased each other, and had many beneficial experiences. After the last and most exciting summer of visiting cousins and friends, it �326 We Plow God's Fields was discovered that Elspeth was "anemic." Her mother kept her in bed for breakfast and stuffed her with iron pills. Both she and Jamie used to have bouts of "acidosis," a childhood malady that no longer seems to exist. This was cured by spending a day or two in bed eating delicious chicken broth and rice. Her mother made staying in bed so delightful that Elspeth developed a taste for it. Elizabeth was a careful mother where health was concerned, but a firm family rule was that you never talked about illness outside the family, just as you never discussed money or the lack of it. Hickory Nut Gap Farm was fairly isolated from the social doings of Asheville for two young people growing up during the Depression. Trips to town were expensive. Elizabeth did not drive and John Shorter or Rev. David Huntley had to be snatched from some necessary project to make such a journey possible. The bus could be flagged down at the top of the driveway, but the bus station was far from the houses of their friends. It cost ten cents to telephone Asheville and only necessary calls were made. Elspeth had school at home with Miss Patterson until fifth grade. It is not surprising that socializing did not come naturally to either of the McClure children. Fortunately they both enjoyed solitude, but Elizabeth kept encouraging their social life because she thought it was an important part of a person's development. The McClure's friends the Heywoods, the Herberts and the Izards had children who remained faithful friends in spite of distance. Beckie Herbert and Mary D. Heywood, and later Mary Eleanor Smith, often came to stay on the farm for weekends. Beckie and Elspeth made up a game of "Brownies." They would sneak down to the kitchen even before the early-rising, ponderous Mrs. Williams came in, and attempt to make breakfast and do other household chores secretly, pretending to be invisible. Sometimes the invisible game went on all day, which meant rushing past any grown ups encountered, especially guests, so fast that they would not see you. A great delight was joining the Boone girls and Richard at the fruit stand they operated for the farm, beside the famous spring on the curve of the road just below their house. Here they sold summer apples, cider and grapes. Beckie and Elspeth charged five cents to show off the Scotch Terrier Chug's tricks. Once they dressed as gypsies and offered to tell fortunes. This was frowned upon by their parents, but buying watermelons from passing trucks from Polk County for a nickel and selling them for a dime, or even a quarter, was encouraged. One summer Beckie and Elspeth, who both loved horses, formed the B. and E. Health Department and attempted to clean up the horse barn. Once again germs were suspected and the project was squelched. The Raoul family had given the McClures their black and white cob pony Circus, and Elspeth and Beckie or her friend Richard Boone could ride over the country and have memorable races with Circus and Neddy, the Shetland pony. It was about this time that Elizabeth again had one of her painting fits. She decided to surprise Jim for Christmas with a portrait of Elspeth. The only place where Elizabeth could hide the project from Jim and have the necessary north �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 327 Elspeth, riding "Circus," and Becky Herbert with the two dogs "Wags" and "Chug/ summer of 1933. light was the basement; so amidst cobwebs and canning jars she set up her easel, with a big green door open to the little garden below the house. Elspeth, who was trying hard to be a tomboy, had to stop playing with her constant companion Richard Boone, dress in a white organdy dress, and spend hours sitting in a chair placed on a table. Fortunately Aunt Wiggy was visiting and read aloud during the sessions. As you look at the portrait, hanging today in the dining room at Hickory Nut Gap Farm, there is little to suggest an energetic little girl enduring long hours of posing. The child, sitting firmly but naturally, wears a summer dress so light that a hint of her shoulder is visible through the short sleeves. She holds a bowl of flowers and her dress is tied with a wide blue sash. Elizabeth wanted the portrait to fit in with the ancestors already hanging in the dining room of her Grandmother Skinner and Jim's great-grandfather Dixon, so she left off her daughter's freckles because, as she said, "Ancestors never have freckles." The young model was spared much posing time when Elizabeth did the finishing touches with a large pillow stuffed inside the dress and tied firmly with the sash. One can imagine Jim's delight at this surprise present. During these years when Elspeth and Jamie were growing up, older members of the family were falling away from this world. Aunt Freddie's name lived on at Hickory Nut Gap. Ben Owenby, herdsman for the Herefords, named his twins Fred and Frederika after the grand old lady from Chicago. On the McClure side two devoted sons of Christ were taken home. Jim's beloved brother Arch, whose career in the Presbyterian Church was as full of promise as his father's �328 We Plow God's Fields was full of accomplishment, died unexpectedly in 1931 while undergoing an appendectomy. Arch and Jim were the closest of brothers, full of mutual admiration and his death struck Hickory Nut Gap with terrible sorrow. Within the year the family gathered once again to mourn the passing of Jim's able and widely beloved father. James G. K. McClure, Sr. was buried in Lake Forest in the winter snows of 1932. He left his children and grandchildren a challenge to Christian manhood as exemplified by his belief that Christ did not come to make life easy, but to make men great. His life had shown that putting ideals into practice often depends on long acquaintance with a community and the confidence and trust that friendships built over the years bring. Annie Dixon McClure, who had always been a loyal and gracious partner in his work, spent many of her remaining years in North Carolina with Dumont and Annie Clarke. Elizabeth and Jim continued to take their family to Lake Forest for vacations. As well as the Stuarts, "Granny" Cramer was still living at Rathmore, Elizabeth's childhood home, although Ambrose Cramer, Sr. had died years before. Elizabeth's step-sister, Isabella Ryerson, and her children, Joannie and Tony, were great favorites with the McClures. Isabelle was always called "Aunt Ginty," and was a thrilling figure: she rode to hounds, wore glamourous clothes, and had a mischievous sense of humor. Her husband, Donald Ryerson, was a brilliant man and had been a special friend of Jim's in Lake Forest. It was a great tragedy of the Depression when he committed suicide. Joannie and Tony often came with their mother to the farm and were adventurous pals for Jamie and Elspeth. In the summer of the Chicago World's Fair, the McClures drove to Lake Forest. The trip, complete with gas, meals and an overnight stop in a motel that boasted a restaurant shaped like a giant coffee pot, cost $14.50. Attending the World's Fair, with Aunt Ginty discovering the most exciting exhibits, was a thrill for the farm children. Jamie McClure was particularly excited by the submarine on exhibit. He took issue with the guide on a technical point, insulting that gentleman properly. After the tour they went together to some source of infallible information and Jamie, who was about fifteen, was proved right, which delighted his father. Jim and Elspeth were most inspired by the transportation pageant, "Wings of the Century." It was as dramatic as the Buffalo Bill Show he had seen as a boy, with whole Indian tribes moving across the stage, engines from east and west meeting for the driving of the golden stake when die transcontinental railroad was completed, and finally the appearance of the airplane. Surely this drama proved his theories of progress. When the Ryersons came to visit the farm there were many adventures for the children. Once Jim and his brother-in-law Donald Ryerson staged a battle for the hayloft. The four children manned the fort in the old grey barn below the garden, spending days building tunnels in the hay and barricades at the front. Hay was then stored loose in the barn instead of in bales as it is today. When the day of battle came Jamie McClure and Joannie Ryerson had stirred up a secret weapon, a mixture of cotton seed meal and water that looked just like soft manure. But the men had a surprise, too. The farm truck filled with snow �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 329 dug from the late-lasting snow bank at the top of the gap. The barn fight raged fast and furious until Miss Paterson, stationed where she could watch over the picket fence at the bottom of the garden, was suddenly stricken with lumbago and had to be carried from the field! The children spent hours with sledge hammers and wrenches gradually taking apart a rusting rock crusher abandoned in the quarry at the top of the gap by the road paving crew. Jamie was planning to make a fortune from scrap metal. Other welcome visitors were Elizabeth's half-brother Corwith with his wife Laura and young son Cory, who was several years younger than Elspeth. After struggling to tag along with older cousins, Elspeth remembers it was fun to have someone younger to show around the farm. The two became great friends. Young Cory would spend many summers on the farm as he grew up because his father was a yacht salesman and the family lived on a succession of boats. The Dumont Clarkes moved to Asheville in 1930, and there were frequent get togethers of the two families. Led by Jim, they all enjoyed vigorous outdoor activity, followed by voracious feasting. Elizabeth described one of these clan gatherings to Hetty. "Thanksgiving was a grand day as it was deliciously mild and the young climbed the peak in the morning & played touch foot-ball in the afternoon in spite of having cleaned up two twelve pound turkeys and 28 small mince & pumpkin pies not to mention drinking five gallons of cider. I truly expected them all to die of apoplexy" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart, December 2, 1934). To this rising generation Jim McClure was both a man who loved fun and a stern model of moral rectitude. His example, both of self-discipline and of working idealism, brought him a natural respect from both his own children and his nieces and nephews. They all wanted to earn Jim's accolades. Christmas on the farm often brought visitors from Lake Forest. One year both Aunt Ginty with her children and Uncle Ambrose ("Bowser") and his young wife Mary were on hand. Right after Christmas everyone, including Elizabeth was struck down with the flu, everyone except Jim. First he would don an apron and appear with trays for all hands, then slip into his Harry Lauder outfit, a pair of plaid undershorts with a tweed jacket, and come into each sick room with his concertina to cheer up the patients with Scottish songs. Later he would don a white coat and appear with thermometer and black bag to check on their progress. He managed to turn a disaster into a good time. Aunt Mary, who was so protective of her new husband that he called her his Banty Hen, spent hours chinking the open cracks of the "green room" with tissue paper. When Elizabeth recovered enough to creep out of bed and check on the comfort of her guests she looked in on the Cramers, saw a bit of paper at a window and began to pull, exclaiming that the room must not have been cleaned properly. Aunt Mary vows she pulled out every bit of the caulking before she finished cleaning up! Midway through the Depression years there was a sad farewell for Miss �330 We Plow God's Fields Paterson. She went to live with a family in Lake Forest, highly recommended by Elizabeth. Elspeth loved her dearly and it was a difficult parting, but the little girl was now nine years old and she was to go to Grove Park School in Asheville. Miss Pat had taught her at home for four years. The school, where Jamie had gone before her, was run by two high-minded maiden ladies whose great interests were moral instruction and dramatics. She remembers what fim she had driving to school with her father. He taught her many songs, including "Abdul Abulbul Amer," "Clementine," and "The Cowboy's Prayer," which he had learned on the roundup in Texas. She loved to hear stories of his days on the range and often wished he had taken up the old nester's offer to stay in Texas, so they could have worked on a ranch together. They used to plan a long camping trip by wagon, which never actually took place. Jim had never gotten the gypsy yearnings out of his soul. He had taught her to ride and now that the pony Circus was growing old they used to go out on one or another of the three farm horses when they were not occupied in the field. At last Jim bought a Tennessee Walker named "Adam." Elspeth promptly changed his name to "Fleetfoot," although Mr. Hunfley stubbornly continued to call him "Adam" because he thought it was unlucky to change a horse's name. Then the three farm mares produced colts, a wonderful delight. Gypsy was Elspeth's own, and with her father's help she trained the little horse. When riding with her father, Elspeth remembers burying her fears with pride, for he was a man whose admiration you worked to gain. This eliminated the possibility of whimpering or complaining. Education was such a high priority for the McClures that when several Asheville families started the Asheville Country Day School, which offered a conventional college preparatory curriculum, they joined with the Pinckney Herbert family to employ a teacher for their daughters, Beckie and Elspeth, who were in eighth and ninth grades respectively. The school only went as far as the seventh grade, but they arranged for a room in the building, an old house on Victoria Road, and the two girls took part in all school activities. Their teacher was Mrs. Millard Ward, a sensitive, intelligent New Englander. The McClures had hoped to send Elspeth to New England for high school, but after visiting around Elizabeth decided that Chatham Hall, in Virginia, was inspired by the traditions she respected and had the warmth and loving spirit she had missed as a girl at St. Timothy's. They were not disappointed and came to love the headmaster, Dr. Edmund J. Lee, and his wife Lucy, who had been missionaries in China. Jim even brought up the Federation's string band and put on a square dance for the girls, along with a talk about the Farmers Federation. Elspeth, after suffering terrible pangs of homesickness during her first year, loved the school so much that she later sent her two daughters there. The only thing that troubled Jim was that Chatham Hall was an Episcopal School. He arranged to have his daughter become a member of the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church one summer, just to make sure she didn't get any ideas in her head. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 331 Going off to school, helping her parents entertain many visitors, and, especially for Elspeth, helping her father at the Federation picnics that he was now holding every summer, helped to cure her social shyness. Jamie was driving, and he soon taught his sister so they could join their Mends more easily. By Christmas 1937 Elizabeth was writing to Harriet Stuart that " . . . Tryon, Flat Rock and Biltmore were all full of parties & Jamie—once the recluse, has now become the most pronounced kind of partyhound! He was resplendent in Doug's 'tuck' and 'tails' ..." (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 11, 1938). Jim described for his sister one of his son's first successful forays into the social domain, accompanied by his slightly older cousin. Jim McClure was a senior at Hotchkiss and his cousin Jamie Clarke was at Princeton. "We have had great fun this Christmas. Jamie McClure has picked up sufficient interest to attend three dances! He goes arrayed in Uncle Dumont's tuxedo and Jamie Clarke arrayed in mine. The first dance they attended Jamie Clarke split his pants in the middle of the dance floor and had to be escorted off the floor by an encircling body guard. The rest of the evening he had to move with the utmost caution ..." (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 1, 1937). Perhaps the contradiction as to the origin of Jamie McClure's "tuck" came because a mother is usually the arranger of borrowed tuxedos. The activities of all, Grandmother McClure as well, are recounted in this letter written by Jamie McClure to his Aunt Hetty. In spite of unpleasant weather, the vacation has been a lively one. Bert Lewis [husband of Phebe Ann Clarke], Jamie Clarke, and I have been together a lot, and the result is that much wood has been cut, to say nothing of the dissipations of the society whirl. The Clarkes have been in great force, and Grandmother is her usual amazingly lively self. She has become quite a figure in Asheville's older circles; is referred to quite solemnly, I believe, as Madame McClure! Jamie [Clarke] has just gone back to Princeton. He has to cover a couple of hockey games for the Prince [the college newspaper] (he's hockey Editor), as well as considerable studying to make up for time lost through journalistic activities. The new board of the Prince for 1938 has just been elected, and Jamie was named Secretary. This post goes to the Sophomore who leads the field on his board, and it puts him right in line for the chairmanship if he keeps up his present high standards. I hope he gets it. (Jamie McClure to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 2, 1937) The work Elizabeth did for everyone's happiness at Christmas, quietly, almost secretly, was remarkable. Santa continued to appear for all the farm tenants and their children and there was always a beautiful Christmas Eve supper. One year Jim wrote to his parents "Siddy does get up the finest affairs with the table wonderfully decorated & old photographs as place cards. After dinner we sang Christmas carols, Jamie Clarke leading on his violin" (James �332 We Plow God's Fields Jamie McClure and Jamie Clarke "Offfor Mt. Mitchell/' March 1935. G. K. McClure, Jr. to his parents, December 26, 1930). On Christmas morning, when the family opened the door to the study, the spirit of her generosity emanated from every corner of the room, centered on the bulging stockings, each with a bright card or a tempting package decorating its top. There might be mostly new toothbrushes, nuts and oranges inside, but there were always one or two specially desired items in the pile of gifts. The most triumphant Christmas surprise she ever arranged was a present of a new study for Jim. There was a little room off the main study, which opened only onto the porch and had no entry into the house itself. While Jim was away raising money for the Fund, Elizabeth directed Mr. Huntley in the construction of a secret book door connecting these rooms. Ambrose Cramer supplied the plans. When Jim came home the door was in place. For years this room had been used to keep potted plants in the winter and for the family's boots and overshoes. Elizabeth blocked the one window with an old garden hat and a lanky geranium plant so that the work in progress could not be seen from outside. One morning there was snow and Jim tried to open the locked door from the porch to find his galoshes. Elizabeth told him she had locked the door so no one would open it by mistake and let her plants freeze, and that she had lost the key. Surely she would find it by evening. Jim threatened to break the door down to find the missing overshoes, but somehow she dissuaded him and had a pair out for him when he came home. Each morning Jim would set some task for Mr. Huntley to accomplish that day, and each evening when he came home the task was not completed, because Mr. Huntley was spending every available moment making shelves and cupboards in the secret room. Finally he told Elizabeth, "Mrs. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 333 McClure, we've got to tell him. I can't stand this deception no longer." Elizabeth had her work cut out for her to persuade the honest preacher to continue the deception a few days longer. Finally it was Christmas Eve. She still had to tack down the red checked oil cloth on the new shelves and she was afraid Jim would hear her hammering; so she asked Elspeth to turn on the record player. Jim was horrified with the loud jazz on such a sacred evening and reprimanded his daughter sharply. On Christmas morning all was in readiness. A letter from Santa Glaus was sticking out of the book shelf, Mr. Hunfley himself was in the "little study" jingling sleigh bells, and when Jim followed the instructions in the note to push on the wall he beheld a cozy little room with his father's high backed desk all ready for him. Needless to say Elizabeth did not have much leisure for painting in the midst of all her other activities, but fortunately she did take time out to paint a special gift for Jamie on his seventeenth birthday—a portrait of his father. It hangs in the dining room of the old house today, opposite the portrait of Elspeth. Elizabeth said she could not paint Jim in the style of the "ancestors" as she had her daughter, because "he is such a modern man." Jim sits as though ready to speak, and step out into the room to take part in a family gathering. Old John Shorter put it best when he said, "When I build a fire in the dinin' room, I have to build it just right 'cause Mr. McClure's eyes - they follow me." Jim wrote to Hetty that "Siddy had painted my portrait during the past few weeks and gave it to him [Jamie] as a birthday present. Everyone thinks the portrait a masterpiece and I consider Siddy a genius" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, March 22, 1936). Elizabeth painted only three portraits professionally after she married Jim. One was of her friend, Frances Herbert, commissioned by her children, one of another close friend, Harvey Heywood, and a third of Elizabeth "Ibby" Elkins, at that time married to Harry Hollins, who had come down from the North to run the Federation uniform plant as a service job. Each is an excellent likeness and a decorative success. "Ibby" adored Elizabeth and used to pounce on Jim to tell him he must make a place for her to paint and allow time for her. Perhaps partly because of this Jim did build a studio for Elizabeth at the back of the courtyard, beyond the spring house and the old fort. She was very excited about the prospect of a place to work where she would have a large north window and would not have to be constantly putting her painting paraphernalia away. But by the time it was built the second World War was coming on, in all its horror and tragedy. It was not to be a time for painting. Throughout the thirties the McClures continued to enjoy the Asheville social rounds despite the hard times and the changed attitudes toward extravagance. Jim was asked to be the "general" of the Rhododendron Brigade of Guards, organized in 1934, and each year he donned his regalia as commanderin-chief during the Festival Week. He looked like something out of a Sousa band, with a tall hat and oversized golden buttons. He carried off his role with mock seriousness and felt that this gave him a good contact with Asheville's �334 We Plow God's Fields young businessmen. Elizabeth almost balked at being called the Countess of Pisgah, but the Rhododendron Festival was a civic event Jim relished. All the details were reported in the local newspaper: All members of the Rhododendron Brigade of Guards, including the 29 new ensigns to be commissioned at the annual Ensign Ball at Grove Park Inn tomorrow evening, have been ordered to report at the inn ... An elaborate ceremonial will attend the commissioning of the new ensigns and Queen Myra [Lynch] in the Rhododendron throne room . .. Hod Williams and his orchestra have been engaged to play for the ball . . . Major-General James G. K. McClure, Jr., commander of the Brigade, will lead the ceremonials and will officially present the King's commission to Queen Myra, naming her honorary Colonel-in-Chief of the First regimen of the Guards . . . The Rhododendron Brigade of Guards . . . is colorfully uniformed and is considered one of the most important units of the general festival organization.6 For her part, Elizabeth gained a reputation as Asheville's most accomplished mimic during these years. At one party, given by a club known as the Bachelors and Benedicts, she dressed Jim up to look like Chief Justice Hughes. She knew one trick that made a Person unrecognizable, and so Jim remained throughout the evening. She raised his height with little lifts on his shoes. The party took place during the furor over Franklin Roosevelt's attempt to pack the Supreme Court with sympathetic New Dealers, and so she made a sign for him to carry that read "ain't they mean to the Court Supreme." But Elizabeth herself stole the thunder at that particular ball. She transformed herself so that she not only looked like Charlie Chaplin, whom she adored, but she adopted his mannerisms as well. She could shuffle and jerk just like the master. At one point, a young man who knew the McClures well, Pruden Smith, felt duty bound to give her a swift kick in the rear and a lecture for hanging about the entrance of the ladies' room. He was enormously embarrassed when he learned her identity. A few years later he took over a division of the Federation and the story was the subject of many jokes. Much of Jim McClure's social life revolved around encouraging contributors to the Educational and Development Fund. During the mid-thirties, the tobacco heiress Mrs. Benjamin Duke became interested in his work. Jim wrote to Hetty: "Mrs. Duke is up here and threw a party for me and the fiddlers last night. It went big—I brought Jamie along and he played and sang with the fiddlers" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, July 25, 1936). Jim nursed her interest in the Federation along to the point where she was ready to donate a million dollars to the Fund. The papers were all written up, awaiting her signature, when her sudden death ended this dramatic possibility. All this time Jim was carrying a heavy load, directing the growth of the Federation through a difficult economic period. Yet he was also carrying on his father's tradition of public service, along with his full-time job. He had been a member of the State Board of Conservation and Development for some years �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 335 and in Buncombe County his influence was broad, stretching across all sorts of social boundaries. Offers of committee positions frequently came his way, and he devoted himself to each one as a practitioner of the Social Gospel. He found time to serve as a trustee for Asheville's Mission Hospital, a director of the Blue Ridge Milk Producers Cooperative Association, a member of the Board of Directors of the Federal Home Loan Bank, and vice-president of the North Carolina Cooperative Council. In his own community he remained a member of the School Committee. In the twenties he had helped to consolidate the six small one-room structures in Fairview township into one larger building, and to start a high school. Previously only a few boys and girls had been able to continue their education beyond seventh grade by going to other towns. There were no politics quite as serious as school politics, and keeping public education on an even keel in the thirties was no easy task, since Buncombe County was bankrupt. Jim became the subject of a minor controversy in the state when the governor failed to reappoint him to the Board of Conservation and Development in 1932. He had been a hard-working and useful member of this group and was influential in setting up game preserves and focusing the state's attentions on the conservation problems of its too often neglected western region. He took a keen interest in the responsibilities of his position, as a letter from an engineer he had worked with testifies. Mr. Thorndike Saville of Winston-Salem had heard that the governor was planning to appoint a member of his own Democratic party to the post. He wrote to Jim, "I have many times expressed to the Director and to other members of the Board that there was no member of the Board who had taken the trouble to inform himself and to evidence as intelligent an interest in the several activities of the Board as you have done ... I am firmly convinced that it would be a calamity to the State if you were not reappointed for another term ..." (Thorndike Saville to James G. K. McClure, Jr., July 16, 1932). Governor Ehringhaus found this position too valuable a political appointment to fill with a "Black Radical," as Republicans had been called in North Carolina since Reconstruction days, no matter how conscientious and effective he might be. It must have been some consolation to Jim that the local papers stood up for him. W. K. Beichler wrote the following letter to the Asheville Citizen, which was printed in A. L. Banister's column, "Hunting and Fishing in Western North Carolina:" Editorials in both Asheville papers of this past week have supplied very excellent and pertinent comment upon the loss of Mr. James G. K. McClure, Jr. from the State Board of Conservation . . . Figuratively speaking, his has been for years a "voice crying in the wilderness" for the cause of conservation. He has done more than any other man in the western half of the state to overcome our sadly apathetic and do-nothing attitude toward the possibilities of this state as a commercial forest land and recreational area. For years he has advocated and worked for a comprehensive system of state-owned forest, �336 We Plow God's Fields parks and game refuges. Not only that, he has presented definite plans to show that such a system can be acquired as a distinct investment, and not merely as a disbursement of public funds. It is n o t . . . generally known that he is directly and almost solely responsible for Western North Carolina's four great game refuges on National Forest lands. His was the idea for them, and his the accomplishment of working out with the Federal government the cooperative arrangement.7 Santford Martin, editor of the Winston-Salem paper, who had served with Jim, wrote a personal note to him during the controversy. Of all the members of this Board, I think the State could have spared any of them better than it can spare you. I have many times said behind your back that you were by all odds the best informed and best fitted for this type of service to the State of all the members of the Board. It is a tragedy . . . The more I see of the type of politics in the ascendancy in North Carolina, the more firmly I become convinced that the old mountaineer up in your country was right when he said, "Politics are a ass!" (Santford Martin to James G. K. McClure, Jr., August 8, 1933) Jim wrote to Hetty, "The Governor did not reappoint me to the Board of Conservation . . . I have been on the Board for eight years and have enjoyed keeping in touch with the Resources of the State" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, August 10, 1933). An Asheville Citizen editorial written in his behalf said, "Conservation work cannot prosper except as it is kept out of politics as far as possible. Experience is worth something. Zeal in the public service is not as common as to count for nothing when it is encountered."8 The writer was an astute observer of Jim's work. His zealous promotion of the public good, in the face of an often overwhelming effort to push along partisan or regional interests, set this man apart. His combination of warmth and charm, his quick mind, his persistence and insistence on seeing results, made him ideally suited to the constraints of the board room. He actually liked meetings. Whether small and intimate or large and noisy, they usually brought out the best in him. Another trait that helped Jim was his skill, in making a disparate group of people first trust one another as Mends, so that when it came time to make decisions, personal rivalries and competitions could be minimized. As Jim continued to involve himself in local and state affairs, he was also asked to head up a national organization capable of considerable influence. Forestry was a science he pursued relentlessly during the thirties, both as the overseer of the Federation's Forest Products Division and as a private owner responsible for cutting timber on large tracts of mountain property. As a result, he first became a director of the American Forestry Association, and then served a term as president of the North Carolina branch for three years. In 1937 he was elected president of the national association. During his tenure, the efforts of members were directed by its president to support the Cooperative Farm For- �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 337 estry Act of 1937, which authorized a federal appropriation of $2.5 million to assist the states in advancing farm forestry. At the end of his term as president of the association, Jim continued as a director for two years and then became vice president. His pursuit of good citizenship had involved him in politics, from Washington to Raleigh to Asheville and back home to Fairview. At each level, he brought a large vision and the courage to act. As president of the American Forestry Association, Jim was in a position to observe the New Deal government at close range. Here was a government made up of people with a commitment to their convictions that Jim could admire. But his Republican outlook kept him from becoming swept up in the excitement. In a paper for the Pen and Plate Club, he sorted out his various reactions to the rapid political and economic changes brought in by Franklin Roosevelt. Jim McClure's views were quite astute for a man living in the midst of the era, and represent a critique that flowed directly from his own experience and philosophy. Here we come to March 1st, 1933, with our political creeds unchanged but with the country's industrial economic life paralyzed. The new administration takes charge in Washington. In one hundred days bills are passed in Congress that revolutionize the government of the United States . . . It almost seems as if the Senate and the House had been anesthetized. It almost seems as if they were not conscious of what they were doing. A revolution, perhaps the greatest revolution . .. that has ever occurred and yet ... without the gathering of a single mob, or without the pressure of a single soap box orator, or a single riot, or a busted head . . . A program was put through Congress putting collectivism into action. In a world where individualism seemed to have failed a new national planning was inaugurated. The government is put in full control of agriculture, industry and business . .. . .. [As] I have thought about this new program, I must confess that from the idealist's point of view it has a strong appeal. One interesting fact connected with it is the almost religious fervor of the men who have worked out these ideas. They feel and believe that they are engaged in a crusade for the rights of the average man . . . This step, it seems to me, marks an era in the development of mankind. It is a step where mankind has adjusted himself to new conditions without a bloody socialrevolution. . . As to the outcome of these changes, no one knows. We do not even know whether these changes are temporary or denote a permanent change in our manner of Government. I happened to be in the gallery of the Senate the night the National Recovery Act was passed and the compelling argument for its passage was "Gentlemen these are desperate times and require desperate remedies." When we attempt to pass judgement on these great changes we must temper our idealistic hopes with practical experience. We have no precedent to guide us ... The control of industry will involve an immense bureaucracy—and the hand of bureaucracy will deaden business . . . Let Federal agents go about inspecting the affairs of business men, and you will have a multiplication of the evils �338 We Plow God's Fields and abuses, including bribery and blackmail, that we see in our municipalities enforcing building codes, tenement house regulations, and so on. We have failed to develop in this country a tradition of public office that inspires us with any confidence . .. Men go to any length to get into office and accumulate political debts which they must pay out of the government pork barrel. My experience in government and state agencies has been that petty political considerations come first in almost all decisions—and there even arises an inability to see or think clearly on questions of efficiency and public good. Our experience with Government Regulation of the railroad has not been an inspiring one. The Interstate Commerce Commission has cost us millions of dollars, . . . Today we are faced with tremendously increased government control. It is no longer a debatable question, it is an accomplished fact. . .9 Meanwhile, the Depression did little to dim the social life at Hickory Nut Gap. Jim never needed frills to have a good time. He had his Santa Claus suit for Christmas and he could always pick up a few firecrackers for the Fourth. Jim's antics and parlor games never failed to entertain his guests. He could talk the best dressed young man into placing a glass of water on his forehead, and trying to rise from a prone position to a standing one in front of the howling guests at a party. He could always feel when a certain heaviness began to hang over a group of people and liked to take it upon himself to dispel the deadening influence. He did this for his own family, too. Elspeth remembers him livening up breakfast at a hotel one morning. He whispered to her that he would give her a dollar if she could get a whole waffle into her mouth at once. Poor Elizabeth was horrified, but it certainly lifted the family spirits. He still loved to play his concertina, especially on trips; and this made Elizabeth quite nervous about the possible effect on other guests! Elizabeth continued to surround the old house with beauty. She and Aunt Wiggy, who was a frequent summer visitor, and Elspeth formed the "groundhog club" and spent happy hours uncovering rocks to enlarge the Rock Garden above the house where several boulders already protruded. They planted snowdrops and daffodils and blue Chinodoxia under the cherry trees, which made the place a fairy land in the spring. Mathilda Shorter replaced Mrs. Williams in the kitchen when the latter went off and got married (much to everyone's amazement). Mathilda would pack up a lunch in beautiful baskets, with fried chicken and other delights, and Elizabeth and perhaps some guest would meander up into the orchard and set up a picnic on Turkey Rock, where in April they could gaze across a sea of apple blossoms to the Fairview valley below. During the spring, when the smell of apple blossoms drenched the whole farm in their subtle scents, her appetite for beauty came alive. She never failed to be renewed by the appearance of the first snowdrops and crocuses, and then the forsythia and daffodils that served their eternal notice that the harsh domination of winter had once again passed. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 339 Jim did not have Elizabeth's almost religious love of beautiful surroundings, painting and music; but he truly appreciated all she did. He wholeheartedly shared her passion for boxwood, and they were thrilled when they learned of an old couple living far up on a mountainside in a cabin who had several English box bushes they wanted to "get shet of." When they arrived with the farm truck and crew the old man had just chopped down the biggest bush to make it easier to get his first cook stove in the door. The McClures planted the remaining beauties along one side of the rock garden to screen it from the dirt road that led dowi to the barn. The bushes grew and grew until they are now a solid mass of green humps and bumps. Elizabeth carefully trimmed the American box and the hedges she had grown from cuttings, but English box never needs to be sheared, unless you want to get a new stove in a door. Its natural growth is close and slow. In 1937, Jim found himself on the same podium as Roosevelt's Secretary of State Cordell Hull. Both men had come to New Haven to receive honorary degrees from Yale University. Hull, a native Tennessean, would have been much interested in Jim's work with the Federation. For Jim, the occasion was something of a triumphant homecoming. He probably made use of his time there trying to interest prospective contributors to the Fund, and he enjoyed the companionship and good will of a graduation ceremony. The New Haven paper recorded the event. Prof. William Lyon Phelps, university public orator, presented the candidates for honorary degrees, and President [James Rowland] Angell conferred the degrees. Professor Phelps: [said of Jim McClure] Farmer, Yale B.A. 1906. After graduation he studied theology at Edinburgh, Chicago, Tubingen, Jena, and Berlin. Thus being thoroughly grounded, he became a dirt farmer . . . In earlier days he worked with such vigor as pastor of a church in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan that his health gave way and he was required to rest. This breakdown, tragic as it seemed at the time, was beneficial; for in the mountains of North Carolina he became interested in working out plans to aid people to make a better living. He became the first president and general manager of the Fanners Federation . . . Mr. McClure is a multitudinous blessing and a first-rate illustration of applied Christianity. President Angell: Throughout long years of devoted toil, you have translated the spirit of the Gospels into a happier and richer life for thousands of your neighbors. In grateful recognition of this invaluable service your Alma Mater confers upon you the degree of Master of Arts, admitting you to all its rights and privileges.10 Along with Jim McClure and Cordell Hull, two other notables received honorary degrees that day: author Stephen Vincent Ben&, and the Minister of Finance for China, H. H. K'ung. Mr. K'ung was a lineal descendent of Confucius, in the seventy-fifth generation, making Jim's claim to be descended from travelers on the Mayflower seem pretty insignificant. All of these men, the �340 We Plow God's Fields Secretary of State, the patriotic writer, the Chinese official, and Jim McClure, sat together during the formalities of the occasion, enjoying each other's conversation. All of them were on the brink of a life shattering world-wide cataclysm that would alter each life markedly. In the spring of 1939, when Elspeth was in her junior year at Chatham Hall, her family planned an operation to complete the straightening of her "turning eye." She had had the first operation several years before in Asheville, and the skilled Austrian ophthalmologist Dr. Sprinza Weizanblatt, a special friend of Elizabeth and Jim's, had succeeded wonderfully. But both she and Elizabeth thought it would be wise to have the final delicate work done at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore by Dr. Alan C. Woods, an outstanding specialist. This must have been a terrible expense for the McClures to face, but as usual there was no complaining. Elippeth's account of the trip follows. We arrived from the train at "The Little Inn," just across from the hospital, which "Aunt Jane" Heywood had recommended. When we were shown upstairs to our pretty room, my mother was so appreciative, as always, that she charmed the proprietor completely. Then he told us the rates. It was too much. She knew we couldn't swing it! But she hated to hurt his feelings so she went down to the desk and told him she had changed her mind and planned to stay with friends, called a taxi and had the driver go off round the block, then come slowly back so she could make discreet enquiries where she had seen a sign for boarders. She was good at spotting cheap places, for she had had so much practice on family trips. My father used to call us the "boarding party" when he sent us in to check out a place. The one we found was pretty dingy and down at the seams. The walls were painted pale green coated over with Baltimore soot and there was one bathroom for the floor. Those row houses stretched down the street opposite Hopkins—dingy brick with short steps going down to the street, where people sat on those hot summer evenings. It cost something like $2.00 a night—no meals. Next morning we went to see Dr. Woods. He wasn't keeping his appointments and we were told to return next day. Again he wasn't there. We were told it might be a day or two before he could see me as he had a fall from a horse. We would just have to wait. The days stretched to a week or more. My mother didn't want to tell my father she needed more money so she made a wonderful game of stretching it. We located a restaurant in the next block called "Bilgers," where we could get a plate of fish and boiled potatoes and beans for thirty-five cents. Breakfast was even less. We bought bread and tomatoes for lunch. We called our restaurant "Bulgers" and we looked forward intensely to each meal, for not only were we hungry but it was air conditioned! My mother was disappointed that her cousin Mark Skinner Watson and his family were away in Vermont. She and Cousin Mark had been great friends when he was a young man working on the newspaper in Chicago and now he was an editor of the Baltimore Sun. But she soon found the Baltimore Museum, and was delighted by the way the paintings and tapestries were shown, with large, open wall spaces and excellent lighting. It was so interesting and such fun to see the beautiful paintings and statues with my mother. We both forgot all about the absent doctor, our shrinking treasury, and the heat, and �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 341 were both carried away into a fascinating world. There were evtnfree conceits! I learned that in any large city the museum is the place to go to have a perfectly splendid time for almost nothing. For a very special treat one night we went downtown to a cafeteria and then to see a movie, "Four Feathers." But when we got to the ticket window we found the tickets cost a few cents more than we had with us! I'm sure my mother could see my disappointment. Extravagantly we got on the trolley back to Hopkins, got the extra quarter needed. I can never forget the excitement of the rush back to the theatre, or the wonderful movie with Errol Flynn as a dauntless cavalryman who proved he was not a coward. As I think back now on the complete material comfort and the many advantages my mother had been surrounded with when she was growing up, I appreciate more and more her making these ten days when we were stuck in a dreary boarding house in a hot city, with evaporating funds, waiting anxiously to see a mythical doctor, one of the most interesting and happy times I can ever remember. She was a magic person. When Dr. Woods appeared at last he was gruff and bearish. He put off the operation for a year, and directed me to wear a patch over first one eye and then the other, alternating every two weeks, and taking Sunday off, for the entire coming year at boarding school. The strange thing was that I did really well academically at Chatham that year. It was a struggle to read during the two weeks when I could use only my "lazy eye" and perhaps it was because I had to concentrate extra hard that my grades were better than ever before. The next June I was accepted at Vassar without having to take the last two college boards. I was especially happy at graduation for I had made my parents and Jamie proud. My mother and I went to Baltimore right after graduation for the scheduled operation. My mother was an angel about reading aloud to me while I had to lie still for several days with eyes bandaged. But we also listened to the radio. This was June 1940, and what we heard was stark news of German tanks rolling across France through the broken Maginot line as the French soldiers retreated before them. This was terrible news for my mother. It was good that she was staying with the Watson family, who were understanding friends. Dr. Woods disappeared again and the hospital bill kept increasing. Finally my mother decided it was time to go. I got dressed and we just paid the bill and walked out and took a taxi to the Watson's with no ill consequences! My mother took the train home while I stayed a couple of weeks longer with the wonderful Watson family so that I could have checkups and eye exercises at the hospital. She was so glad to see Cousin Mark again. He was humorous, kind, very intelligent, and a first rate writer. Cousin Susan, his wife, was a hospitable, wise Southern belle and their daughters, Ellen and Susan, were wonderful friends for me.11 When Elspeth returned from Baltimore, bringing the two Watson girls with her for a visit on the farm, there was a tinge of sadness there. The terrible news of the war affected both Jim and Elizabeth. They had both spent considerable time in Europe and they felt anguish for the people torn by the war. Jim no longer had any illusions about pacifism. Both of them had a vast admiration and sympathy for Churchill and the British in their uphill battle against the horrors �342 We Plow God's Fields of Nazi Germany. Jim was asked to head up the isolationist movement in North Carolina "America First," but he turned it down before Elizabeth even said a word. He backed up the President in his aid to the British, but as the decade ended he had turned against Franklin Roosevelt and his New Deal. The notion that a government could spend money way beyond its revenues was abhorrent to him. Deficit spending by a nation was the way to court disaster, he was sure. He also wondered how such an unwieldy conglomeration of programs could be wellmanaged, knowing full well that many of them that he had dealt with were not. The fact that so many of Jim's northern friends and contributors to the Fund were wealthy and very conservative may have influenced his feelings about the New Deal. When Roosevelt ran for his third term, Jim began to think the man was simply power hungry. He compared his habits with those of Hitler and Mussolini. The McClure family dog, Trixie, expressed Jim's political views as well as any of his Pen and Plate Club papers. As a regular part of the Hickory Nut Gap visit, Jim would mention to Trixie rather casually, "Did you know Roosevelt was elected again?" The little white dog would immediately throw up her head and let out a series of mournful howls. He loved to tell New Deal jokes. One of his favorites came as the result of a scientific breakthrough—the cure for gout was discovered to be a medicine whose secret ingredient was the sweat of a WPA worker. A call went out immediately that a reward would be offered of one million dollars for each drop of that precious commodity. But the drive had to be abandoned, so the story went, due to the lack of donors. Perhaps Jim's best epitaph for the New Deal was scrawled in the margins of one of his papers. (NRA stood for the National Recovery Act). NRA'S PROGRESS 1933—Nuts Running America 1934—No Recovery Anticipated 1935—National Ruin Accomplished 1936—No Roosevelt Again12 Although Jim's personal life during the decade prior to World War II was marked by financial difficulties, he remained steadfastly on course. His leadership capabilities made him a powerful influence in all the varied facets of life that he touched. He translated the respect and confidence he had earned into new accomplishments, but with all his achievements he never became vain. Like his mountain friends, whom he realized had a great sense of a power above, he gave God the credit. People listened to him because his words squared up with his life. He liked to speak of the present evils in the world: crime, the rackets, and the political illusions of communism and fascism. Repeatedly he stood before graduating seniors and a great variety of congregations delivering his message, especially to young people, of the importance and the joy of the useful life. "If �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 343 Jim McClure (right) and "Old Man" Parker, hunting at Sunburst, November 1935. you catch a vision of usefulness—follow it as a hunter follows a bear. Track it to its lair and capture it—make it yours." "Pick out [a] place where you can best serve God & man—[your] powers will increase and develop." "Every compromise with the infinite value of the human soul leads straight back to the jungle." "If we are to build a better America—we must have better Americans." "How, the skeptic asks, can one weak man do anything against odds which are so overpowering? The amazing thing is that when we try to accomplish something beyond our ability, some power from above flows through and gives [us] strength." "God gave die children of Israel the promised land, but they had to take it themselves." "Communists 'are' ahead of us today in their teaching to endure hardship." "Let each man think himself an act of God. His mind & thought, his life a breath of God and let each try, by great thoughts and good deeds, to show the most of Heaven he hath in him." "If God is your master make your plans big." "Follow God's will and He will reveal His creed." Jim believed this last idea was very important for people who had trouble in accepting Christianity.13 To Jim McClure, faith was not a small and mean affair built on self- �344 We Plow God's Fields righteousness, but rather an act of courage that liberated one from fear and insecurity. Jim's seeming platitudes rang true because of the life that stood behind them. Prior to 1920, he had not been sure what God's purpose was for him, but by the outbreak of the second World War, the Farmers Federation was twenty years old and a testimony to one man's courage and devotion to an idea. He described for the graduates of Haw Creek School the same life of service that had fulfilled his own ambitions. "I am offering you a greater & more important call," he said. "I am calling you to dedicate your life to building this Commonwealth. It will take more patience, more hanging on, more dogged determination & more real grit & nerves than it would take to reach out tonight & fight an attacking army . . . If you are to carry on the torch, you must so live that your character is preserved not for your self but for your country. Give your life and your job to serve the Commonwealth."14 He spoke for the highest order of political integrity and individual behavior based on the Christian promise of freedom as the result of the submission to God's will. God's will, to Jim, meant pushing and shoving mankind along the way pioneered in the United States, where the ideal of individual liberty before the law had reached its greatest development. Jim wanted to add a strong dose of community involvement to balance against the American individualism that was so strong in the mountains. Over and over he asked in his sermons and speeches, why cannot men and women create a Christian movement with the impact of the Nazi Party or Bolshevism? How is it that these movements wield so much power over individual lives and can be so effective in remolding their societies, while Christians backed by the supernatural power of the Almighty and of the forces of goodwill in the Western World appear so impotent? It is a question worth pondering, and one that James McClure tried to answer. He wanted to inspire young people with Christian ideals to translate their idealism into bringing a better economic life to people in the mountains. In spite of all discouragement, he never ceased to believe this was possible. 1. Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again (New York: Signet Books, 1966), pp. 90-91. The book was originally published by Scribner's in 1934. 2. Ibid., p. 281. 3. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 4. Information about real estate holdings from family papers. 5. Interview with Jane Raoul Bingham. 6. Article in the Asheville Citizen, April 1934. 17. W.K. Beichler, letter to the editor, Asheville Citizen, August 13, 1933. 8. Editorial, Asheville Citizen, August 10, 1933. 9. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Recent Amazing Changes in our Government and Some Pros and Cons," paper given at the Pen and Plate Club, Asheville, North Carolina, March 1, 1933. 10. Article in the New Haven Register, June 23, 1937. 11. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. �Hickory Nut Gap in the Depression 345 12. Comments written in the margin of early draft of paper written by James G. K. McClure, Jr. for the Pen and Plate Club, "Remaking Western North Carolina," 1939. 13. James G. K. McClure, Jr., excerpts from sermons, 1930-1939. 14. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Commencement address, Haw Creek High School, Asheville, North Carolina, May 1932. �Chapter Seventeen The Farmers Federation and the Depression At a business meeting soon after the onset of the Depression former General Manager Guy Sales remembers: The President reported that the employees had a meeting immediately after the collapse of the Central Bank, in which they voluntarily agreed to reduce their salaries. Those receiving over $100 per month reducing their salaries by 20% . . . This action of the employees was commented upon most favorably by the directors, it being pointed out that it showed not only loyalty but a keen sense of sound business judgement, in sensing the situation and acting immediately. (Interview with Mr. Guy Sales) Dear Mr. McClure, I like to tell you about the federation has meant to me. In 19301 was about to lose my farm but the federation helped me sell enuf rhododender to pay off the Morgag and I have supported my family of 7 chilerden with out going on relief and helped my nabors by giving them work getting out rododendum this year. I have sold rodadendum and subbry thru the federation whiten brought me in $995 so you see why I will stand by the federation thru thick and thin Yours truly J. G. Taylor (/. G. Taylor to James G. K. McClure, Jr., exact date unknown) When the Central Bank and Trust Company of Asheville failed, three of its depositors were the Farmers Federation, the Educational and Development Fund and James G. K. McClure, Jr. The Farmers Federation did not collapse under the economic pressures of the Depression because member farmers and employees stood loyally behind it, while the President and directors could turn to the Educational and Development Fund for help in the worst times. As the chain reaction of failed banks spread through Western North Carolina, counties and municipalities, businesses and individuals were ruined. The Federation lost money in eight bank accounts and had to be tided over by loans from the Fund to stay in business.1 Jim McClure's faith in progress would be sorely tested by the greatest adversity the Federation and his family had yet faced. Although farm prices had been weak throughout the twenties, no one could have guessed what would happen during the early thirties. As the banks tried to collect as many of their loans as they could, mortgages were foreclosed and businesses shut down. Jim's personal debts were considerable at the end of 1930 and 346 �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 347 included $129,000 he had signed for loans to the Federation.2 Just after Christmas, he wrote to Hetty and Doug that "conditions thru the country here are at a low ebb. Eight banks in our Federation territory have sunk to the bottom of the sea, and as one native put it 'the people are raving'" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, December 28, 1930). With so many local governments, banks and businesses busted, how could an idealistic farmers cooperative hope to survive? But the Federation not only weathered the storm, but spread to new counties, offered new services, opened new departments and initiated a program to reinvigorate the spiritual life of the area, the Lord's Acre Plan. The Federation kept going and the cooperative's vigor helped lift Western North Carolina out of the Depression. With the average mountain farm at least half in forest, Jim McClure reasoned that with proper management this asset could be turned into enough annual cash to at least pay the taxes, so in 1930 Forest Products and Shrubbery Departments were added to the Federation. Appalachian farmers could then more easily take advantage of the demand for pulpwood, acid wood (for tanning leather), locust for insulation pins and fence posts, or dogwood for cotton mill shuttles. They could cut logs for building and veneer, for telephone poles and railroad ties, and there was a growing market for all varieties of mountain shrubs. Big, burly Harry Rotha of Waynesville, an experienced forest products man, was hired to manage this enterprise. At the onset, in January of 1930, Jim prophesied in the Federation News that the Forest Products Department "will mean untold wealth for all W.N.C."3 At the same time, the Federation committed itself to managing a large-scale poultry business, opening three hatcheries, one each in Spindale, Sylva and Asheville, with a total capacity of 73,400 eggs. They were opened with typical McClure fanfare early in 1930, when other businesses in the area were struggling to stay solvent. Eggs and broilers had accounted for almost half of the total sales figures in 1929, and expansion of a successful venture seemed the logical move. The cool summers and limited cropland in the mountains made poultry a reasonable choice. Unfortunately, spreading financial troubles depressed the poultry market during the year, and the Federation found itself battling with large competitors at each stop of the railroad car. Jim explained the problems to readers of the Federation News in August 1930: Our poultry car business is $148,133.23 below last year's record. This is the only department of the Federation to report a reduction in business, and this reduction is due to three causes: First, the price of poultry has been so low during the year that we have advised fanners to hold their poultry and build up flocks. Second, the low price of poultry has reduced the dollar value of our shipments about thirty per cent. Third, the large poultry business we have built up has become known and large Poultry operators have come in and tried to take our business. For months these large operators placed a car beside ours whenever we started a car, taking advantage of our advertising and buying days. As we were building up this business for the farmer, we decided to hang �348 We Plow God's Fields on. This competition cut our volume and also caused this Department to operate at a loss, the only department which operated at a loss last year. Our fear was that if we dropped out of the poultry marketing game, these large operators would then drop prices and this would discourage poultry production. We have, therefore, hung on and maintained our poultry car service . . . At this writing this competition has withdrawn from the field, and we are operating over a wider territory than ever before, offering a market for poultry to the farmers in twenty five counties.4 Even though commodity prices continued to fall, each warehouse made a profit during 1930. Jim felt that, if the Federation could remain solvent, it would help the mountain area to weather the Depression. Agriculture in Western North Carolina had been depressed for at least a generation. Most of the families were quite used to "making do" on meager incomes. As long as they held title to their own land and could keep up with the taxes, they were probably better off than their blue-collar counterparts in the cities who had no way to garden or feed their families. Maybe the years were leaner than usual, but most mountain families would have noticed little difference. To most, the cataclysm in New York seemed as far away as China. Many farmers were actually able to improve their financial lot during the thirties as the Federation spread into new areas, bringing with it new markets, information and reliable farm supplies. The Federation was Jim's destiny, his calling, and he had no intention of ever abandoning it. He never measured his success in profits, but by obstacles surmounted and people helped. Jim McClure summed up his reasons for keeping the Federation going, in spite of all discouragements, in an article for the "Yale Alumni Weekly." The Federation markets chickens, eggs, Irish potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, wheat, rye, vegetables, forest products . . . and other mountain farm products such as pottery and baskets. It has survived fires, bank failures, and depressed business conditions. It has learned how to run the farmer's business successfully . . . The experience, gained in this way, is worth many thousands of dollars to the mountain farmers Some mountaineers have been able to pay the mortgage on their homes, others have put running water into their houses, women have been able to have a doctor at childbirth, many have been able to earn tax money, and particularly during the drouth year of 1930, many, through our forest products department, were able to have bread and meat in their houses and keep their children from starving. The people have earned every cent they have received. The Farmers Federation is building character and initiative and permanent self support. .. . We believe that we are developing the economic and spiritual resources of the people themselves.5 The year 1932 brought new problems. When President Roosevelt declared the Bank Holiday, closing banks nationwide from March 6-10, the Federation printed up its own scrip, with a picture of Jim McClure in the center of each �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 349 paper certificate.6 At this time of crisis, Mr. Jim Cole, a loyal member farmer, came to see Mr. McClure in his office. When the door was shut he quietly handed Jim four thousand dollars in bills, to use while it was needed. Years later Jim would preach at Mr. Cole's funeral service, stressing the importance of the independent spirit of the mountaineer. Mr. Cole was a legend. No one knew quite where his money came from or where it went when he died, but it was pretty well known that his main source of income was corn liquor, manufactured in the recesses of his vast mountain tract.7 Despite all the facts and figures, and talk of new business ventures, Jim McClure maintained the point of view of a pastor tending his flock, a minister of the social gospel. His congregation met, most of them, in their own little churches, usually of the simplest construction. Often the fare served up behind the old fashioned altar each Wednesday evening and twice on Sunday was a fiery exhortation rivaling the best of Jeremiah. When Jim preached in these churches, as he was often asked to do, he preferred to stress good citizenship and community building. He preached the healing of Nehemiah. It is essential, he reasoned, to build better schools and better churches, to make better homes. But it is also important, while doing so, not to stray from God's higher laws. The history of the Hebrew nation provided him with many texts and examples on which to build his themes. But religious preaching, he thought, was all too often just a veneer, a coating for the sake of respectability. For him, Christianity meant effective action. Thomas Wolfe dreamed of a new America, "the real America," merging purified from the materialism of the Twenties.8 Jim McClure, too, saw the hope of renewal rising out of the ashes of despair of the Depression. In the early 1930s Jim felt that the "real America" must come both from the entrepreneurial spirit that was nourished by American liberty, and the spiritual striving of a people who claimed the inheritance of the Christian church. The tension between these must be kept in balance. Without the spiritual influence he knew that selfish materialism would flourish. Without the business-like approach, he saw that hopes would die out, churches would decay, and education would be forgotten. He tried to pursue both goals, making every effort to increase the productivity of the mountain farms and at the same time emphasizing spiritual progress as an equal in importance. Therefore, during the same months in 1930 when the financial pyramids of Buncombe County were teetering and the Federation was branching out into new endeavors, Jim McClure launched a bold new program that backed up his talk about the spiritual resources of the region with an agency designed to help them; the Lord's Acre Plan. Jim had heard of the Lord's Acre Plan some years before. Back in 1927 he had broached the idea in the Federation News: An acre of potatoes, or corn for the Lord, on every farm in this section! What a spiritual awakening this would bring . . . A few years ago the members �350 We Plow God's Fields of a church in Georgia all agreed to plant an acre of cotton for the church. The Lord's Acres of cotton did well, and brought in a rich harvest to the church, not only in money but also in enthusiasm and power . . . the pastor is the most important man in any community. His salary must be increased. He must have the money to get around and see people. An acre of potatoes, or an acre of corn, or perhaps a steer to be fed for the church, or a tenth of the eggs, and the proceeds brought in to a church Harvest Day in October, would wonderfully help to raise our church budgets, and wonderfully bless the life of our churches.9 This early call for the Lord's Acre resulted in a small response that quickly petered out. There had to be someone to promote and sustain the project; to go to the churches, sell the idea, build up morale, and then push hard to maintain the momentum. Jim knew just the man for the job. The success of the idea was assured when he persuaded his old Mend and brother-in-law, Dumont Clarke, to move to North Carolina and take on the work of building up the country church. Spearheaded by Dumont's unflagging determination and missionary zeal, the Lord's Acre Plan not only answered the needs of impoverished rural churches in Western North Carolina, but also came into use in many parts of the United States and even spread to the mission field world wide. The Religious Department made the Farmers Federation unique among American cooperatives. For Jim McClure it was a characteristic follow-up of a visionary idea with an organization to implement it. Dumont Clarke's career in the ministry had been continually frustrated by poor health, and Jim thought he knew why. Dumont needed, as he himself had, a project that would call forth all of his energy and devotion. Dumont's previous experience had been as the school minister at Phillips Andover Academy and the Lawrenceville School. He then became Assistant Pastor of the Mount Vernon Heights Congregational Church in Mt. Vernon, New York. In each position, bad health had demoralized him and interfered with his work. Like Jim, Dumont had planned to devote his life to mission work, and had actually gone to India as a YMCA Secretary, but his health had broken in the Indian climate. Now both he and his brother-in-law felt Western North Carolina was in need of mission work. In the Depression years country churches in the mountains had very little money. Often they could afford to pay a preacher for only one or two Sundays a month. Dumont accepted the challenge without pay and made the Lord's Acre work something of great and lasting importance. The Educational and Development Fund underwrote the salary of a secretary and office expenses. He threw himself into the work, with the result that the Lord's Acre Movement spread like a mountain fire "let out." Jim announced the new Federation program for the country church and endowed it with a statement of purpose in the Federation News in February 1930. �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 351 The Federation has opened up another department, the Religious Department. Rev. Dumont Clarke of Manchester, Vermont is the Director .. . The country church is, in the opinion of many people, the most valuable institution in America. The country church has been the nursery for many of the most constructive movements of the past five hundred years and it has been a large factor in developing the strength of character of many of the leaders of the Anglo-Saxon civilization . .. The Present period of re-adjustment in the country church is difficult. Today in our mountains cash money is scarce. It is increasingly difficult for the country church to pay an adequate salary to the preacher, and the spiritual life of the communities is in danger . . . The fanner cannot subscribe much cash to the church, but he can subscribe an acre of corn or an acre of potatoes. He can subscribe a pig and grow it up or a calf and grow it up and his wife can subscribe a hen and raise a brood of chickens, and every child in the family can undertake some project; perhaps it might be to raise a few baby chicks. In this way it will be possible to quadruple the income of the country church. The Federation . . . is now in a position to offer [its marketing] service for the churches and for the first time the churches can look to a farmers organization that is capable of handling just about anything the church members will raise. 10 There was nothing like the whiff of a new project to rekindle the inner fires of Jim McClure. He could not help but tell people about it, and throw himself into the promotional fray. Jim wrote to his sister Hetty about the progress of the Lord's Acre. "Dumont has stirred up so much excitement amongst the churches that it broke out into a movement to have a 5:30 a.m. meeting this morning in the Gap. At this I was scheduled to make a "talk." Jamie supported me. We arose at 4:30 a.m. I dropped in on Jamie to see how he was getting on with his dressing and found him leaning on the radiator fast asleep in his pajamas. All the rest of the family remained snoring in their beds. Well we had a fine sunrise meeting." Jim went on to describe Dumont's Easter sermon and a Lord's Acre picnic beside the Pigeon River near Waynesville, and to list his many callers in regard to the new project. He finished Hetty's letter with: "How is that for a full day for the Director of the Religious Department? Remember that this followed a Saturday when he left at 8 a.m. for his office and then made a round of his six churches in the afternoon seeing all the preachers. He is doing a huge lot of work and seems to me better than ever" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, April 20, 1930). One of Jim's first converts to the Lord's Acre Plan had been a neighbor, Mr. Millard Edgerton, who rode into town with him one winter's day. He described the incident to Hetty: Yesterday morning I drove in with Millard Edgerton . . . & asked him how big a family he now had—He replied fifteen young 'uns but the Lord had blessed him and every time meal time came around there was something to �352 We Plow God's Fields Dumont Clarke, Jim McClure's brother-in-law, promoting the Lord's Acre Plan. �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 353 eat. He said, however, that he was behind with his church dues, and had been fifty cents behind for some time and could not seem to pay it—I suggested D's scheme of setting aside an acre, putting all fifteen hoes to work & giving the proceeds to the church & told him I wanted to be present when each member of his family marched into church seventeen strong, each with a bushel of corn on his back. He was carried away with the idea and yesterday came to tell me that he had had it up with the family and every one was in for the idea. I think I will tell D of this 100 percent conversion to the idea. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, January 24, 1930) At one of the first churches Dumont visited, the Tweed's Chapel Methodist Church in Fairview, five boys signed up, each agreeing to raise a hog for their church. Jim explained later that: "These boys would not have been able to put 10 or 15 pennies in the collection plate during the course of the year, but by some hook or crook they fed their pigs, and you know, if any boy feeds a pig for the Lord twice a day, all summer, it is going to have a lasting effect on his character . . . And those pigs brought from $12 to $15 apiece, and that made a huge difference in the spirit and energy of the church superintendents."11 The six churches that signed up in 1930 were Tweed's Chapel Methodist, Avery's Creek Baptist, Fairview Baptist, Mills River Presbyterian, Avery's Creek Methodist, and Mill's River Methodist. These churches proved the plan. It really worked, raising both money and morale. The second year forty churches joined, and in 1932 the Lord's Acre Movement was one hundred churches strong. Jim liked to point out that very often it was the children and young people who shamed their elders into committing themselves. Mr. Clarke went up to a church away back in the mountains which had a budget of $80 a year, but for three years had been unable to meet their budget and they were very much discouraged. He presented the idea of the Lord's Acre Plan of raising their budget. They took it up with enthusiasm and were going to present it to their church membership the next Sunday. Well, the next Sunday was rainy, so they put it off another week, and the next week they had arranged for some kind of a picnic so they put it off another week, and they gradually put it off until the planting season was pver. Well, one day last August, the teacher of the primary department came in with her primary class. She had taken up the idea herself and begun it for her class, a class of thirty-three of these small children, and given each one of them a baby chick. Five of the baby chickens had died, but twenty-eight of the children appeared with a grown chicken, and they sold the chickens for enough to buy paperbacked hymn books for the adult members. That so shamed the adult members that they set to work and painted their church and built new seats for it. And that stirred them up.12 Dumont never resented Jim's leadership. He was a determined team player, who made his own way into the hearts of the mountaineers. He made friends with the preachers and their families, often having dinner with them after church, or spending the night. For the young people he had riddles and tricks, �We Plow God's Fields 354 JESUS CALLS US Jesus calls us. o'er the tumult Of our life's wild, restless sea, Day by day His sweet voice soundeth, Saying, "Christian, follow Me." Jesus calls us from the worship Of the vain world's golden store; From each idol that would keep us, Saying, '^Christian, love Me more." In our joys #,nd in our sorrows, Days of toil and hours of ease, Still He calls, in cares and pleasures, "Christian, love Me more than these.' Jesus calls us: by Thy mercies, Saviour, may we hepx Thee call; Give our hearts to Thy Obedience; Serve and love Thee best of all. I WOULD BE TRUE I I I I would would would would be true, for there are those who trust me; be pure, for there are those who care; be strong, for there is much to suffer; be brave, for there is much to dare. I I I I would would would would be friend of all, the foe, the friendless; be giving, and forget the gift; be humble, for I know my weakness; look up, and laugh, and love, and lift HOWARD ARNOLD WALTER. Above and following page: Early promotional material for the Lord's Acre. like moving a penny from one finger to another. And he was a gifted speaker. His slide shows of Lord's Acre projects were a hit all over his circuit. He drove many miles visiting churches throughout the mountains, and his well worn car became a welcome sight. Dumont believed in the power of memorized Bible verses. He had a special book rack built under the steering wheel in his car so that he could read passages and commit them to memory as he drove along. Some of his family questioned the safety of this practice, but Dumont's driving record remained unassailable. He would never pass a hitch- �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 355 He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much; and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.—Luck 10:16 Fairview Baptist Church, Rev. N. B. Phillips, Minister. Tweed's Chapel Methodist Church, Rev. F. L. Setzer, Minister. Mills River Presbyterian Church, Rev. W. S. Hutchinson, Minister. Mills River Methodist Church, Avery's Creek Methodist Church, Dr. O. B. Mitchell, Minister. Avery's Creek Baptist and Union Church, Rev. Charles F. Owen, Minister. Farmers Federation, Rev. Dumont Clarke, Director of Religious Department. hiker, but demanded of each one a Bible verse from memory as payment for his ride. If the passenger failed the test Dumont determinedly taught him a verse. Jim often preached on the Lord's Acre himself. At the height of the New Deal, he explained to a congregation: "In all [the] confusion of Gov't chaos one thing is certain—permanent civilization [is] only possible if built on the character of people—[The] country church [is the] great training ground of character— Most important institution in America .. ,"13 He continued in this sermon to describe what he considered were two fallacious theories: first, if an individual is changed nothing else is necessary; �356 We Plow God's Fields and second, that society can he saved without changing individuals. In the first instance he felt a person must get into action as well as having a change of heart. The second, he thought, was the philosophy behind the New Deal and socialism; that by social management and holding all property in common, by sharing the wealth, society will be changed. He argued that there would be no new society built by political and economic measures alone. There did have to be a change in the hearts of individuals. Jim felt the Lord's Acre could change hearts and involve people in the work of the church and of society. "Every time the Lord's hen and chickens come strutting through the yard they preach a little about the Lord."14 Jim McClure's vision was not unlike the one that had filled Thomas Jefferson with hope years before. Both of these men saw great moral fiber and strength in the lives of the small yeoman farmers: independent, close to nature, and undefiled by the temptations of urban life. Jim's symbol of corruption was Chicago. His notebooks were filled with reports of political payoffs, bossism and the evils of urban gangsters. Everyone who lived in the midst of such a world, he argued, found it difficult to maintain the highest moral standards. There were just too many daily degradations in the city. Like most of his contemporaries, he blamed the recent flood of southern and eastern European immigrants for the situation, and indeed Chicago was a checkerboard of such ethnic neighborhoods. He felt that these men and women had to be rescued from their own histories, and envisioned no group more capable of raising the moral climate of the United States than the thoroughly independent, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant Appalachian mountaineer. As they migrated to the cities, these internal immigrants could help to counteract, according to Jim, what he felt to be hypocritical in the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. His Covenanter Presbyterian upbringing set his mind, and he fully believed the ideals of democracy were subverted by the authority of the priest and subservience to the Pope. For him it was the issue of indulgences all over again. How could the likes of Al Capone assuage the pangs of conscience with a few Hail Marys and regular confession? Jim argued that the country church was the source of strength in America, and the mainspring of democracy. When the country church faltered, the roots of liberty were threatened. All of these thoughts Jim worked through in a paper he wrote during the early thirties, entitled "Rackets and the Public." One startling thought is that many city people seem to like [the rackets.] Capone is a modern Robin Hood. He is kind hearted, gives liberally to charity. The mixed population of our great cities, never Americanized, many of them brought up in European countries where things have always been more or less this way—seem to think it is the normal way of living. They do not recoil in horror from this racketeering. It seems to them a necessary evil and all they need do is adjust themselves to it ... "American ideals! Can that stuff," is about all you get in the cities . . . The struggle for freedom is not as easy as that and unless we arouse our �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 357 people to a consciousness that the struggle is still on, we will wake up some fine day to find our free institutions gone and our American Government in the hands of people who knew not Joseph and who know and care not at all for the things of the spirit. . . And while our native sons are busy piling up money, playing golf, riding to hounds and sending then* sons to swell schools and colleges and bringing out their debutante daughters, who is running our cities? As an Englishman put it, "Just the usual hardboiled American gang of grafters, gamblers, bootleggers, vice merchants, police superintendents, friends of theirs, shyster lawyers and political bums ..." .. . The black hand, and the black shadow of graft, corruption and terrorism is stretched out over our great cities. This is something that the finest American tradition can never tolerate. If America is to fulfill her promise, and if we are to cherish and develop the inner things of the Spirit, we must declare war to the death of this philosophy of the Rackets and all its brutalizing offspring. We must clean them out, or they will clean us out!15 These words are vintage McClure, but moral indignation begs for actions. Jim felt that the Lord's Acre Movement, by strengthening the influence of the country church on young people, was a positive force for combating the "Philosophy of the Rackets." "Something is moving in the countryside," he asserted. As Jim pointed out over and over again, the rural districts, especially in the South, were producing nothing if not children, and today's youth were tomorrow's America. Influence these young people through their churches, he argued, and future moral strength would be greatly enhanced. The rackets could be cleaned out by the infusion into the cities of confident men and women, willing to stand their ground with force of character. But for this job to be done, the country churches would themselves have to be greatly strengthened to handle the task. Members of congregations would have to start working together. Preachers would need to be better educated, be more effective community leaders, and rely less on emotional froth to arouse their people. Sunday Schools would need good quality instructional materials. Most of all, though, Christians everywhere would have to be infused with a sense of purpose, a sense of destiny. In Jim's view, the need for Christian soldiers was never greater. Until a man or woman, boy or girl became dedicated to a larger cause or movement, Jim believed, he or she had not fully tasted the richness of life. The same human craving for belonging drew men into the rackets as into the church, and it was therefore the responsibility of Christian leaders to provide the bonds of identity, cemented with urgency of purpose, to draw the strength of America for good rather than evil. By the fifth anniversary of Dumont Clarke's work, it was time for a special celebration. The practice of the Lord's Acre had succeeded in creating new excitement in hundreds of churches. For this special occasion, Jim and Dumont really wanted to beat the drum, and so they went after one of the great political celebrities of the day, Secretary of Agriculture Henry A. Wallace, and brought �358 We Plow God's Fields him to Western North Carolina. Predictably, his appearance generated large headlines in the Asheville newspapers and stirred Jim himself to heights of excitement. Wallace had presided over some of the most controversial government farm programs in American history. Trying to decrease farm surpluses to raise the price for the farmer, his department had supervised the destruction of huge quantities of grain, paid farmers not to grow, encouraged the slaughter of piglets, all in the midst of the unprecedented hunger of the Depression. Although Jim had not approved these practices, he admired the man. Henry Wallace, standing behind the pulpit of Asheville's Central Methodist Church, spoke of the spiritual wealth in Western North Carolina. His address was entitled, "The Necessity of a Socialized Spiritual Life in the Countryside." Great Spiritual power will eventually emanate from these mountains of Western North Carolina, which will influence the whole of the United States . . . You farmers here are, perhaps, among the poorest as to material wealth, but you have a very rich life, a life that is teeming with vital potentialities. Some of the most profoundly moving spiritual forces have had birth in very small and harassed areas. You people of this mountain section, who have not been affected by the capitalistic influences of industrial areas may have a fundamental influence upon the lifting of the shadows flung far and wide by capitalistic potentates. Progress has meant to many People in our country—more especially to nations across the sea—the building up of a faith in material things that is so intense that it borders upon the side of worship. This belief, this devout, materialistic movement, spawned Communism, Fascism, Socialism and all the other "isms" now overlapping their purposes. Capitalism has influenced people to divorce their minds from spiritual things. Many city churches are under capitalistic rule. The Lord's Acre Plan carries us back toward pre-capitalistic days, to days when we had sympathy with better things.16 Out in the audience, absorbing this barrage of New Deal rhetoric, sat Douglas Stuart. He was now Chairman of the Board of the Quaker Oats Company, and Chairman of the Industrial Advisory Board of the National Recovery Administration. It was he who had actually persuaded Mr. Wallace to come. The next day, Wallace, Jim and Doug attended the Laurel Pines Baptist Church in Fairview, for a Lord's Acre rally. The Agriculture Secretary spoke and then the men climbed up Ferguson's Peak behind the McClure home. One can only wonder at the provocative discussions that bounced around between them along that trail. Elspeth McClure, who went along on the climb, was twelve and doesn't remember what they said, but she does remember cracking walnuts with Secretary Wallace on the living room hearth. Henry Wallace, Jim McClure and Douglas Stuart were confident men with strong ideas. Jim had also invited Mr. R. W. Freeman, a local farmer and one of the founders of the Federation, to add spice to the gathering. The next year, Dr. Toychiko Kagawa was the featured speaker for the Lord's Acre annual meeting, and Jim used the occasion to �OUR CHURCHES WITH THE LORD'S ACRE PLAN IDEAL: THE SPIRIT OF JESUS IN OUR LIVES THROUGH HIS WORDS AND HIS WORKS TEND FAITHFULLY THAT WHICH YOU HAVE DEVOTED UNTO THE LORD. KEEP THE WEEDS OUT. KEEP THE ALSO. WEEDS NO MAN HAVING PLOW . . . . . OUT PUT OF YOUR HIS HEART HAND TO THE Carry this folder with you — Memorize and THOUGHTFULLY repeat the verses. April-May, 19SO. Front of folder promoting the Lord's Acre Plan. �360 We Plow God's Fields THE LORD'S ACRE COVENANT PLEDGE CARD FOR ALL PROJECTS CLASS OR CHURCH GROUP Recognizing God's goodness to us and His claim upon us and especially upon our farm life, because without His sunshine and His showers all our efforts would be in vain, WE HEREBY AGREE TO BEGIN, TO DEDICATE TO THE LORD, AND TO TEND FAITHFULLY IN 193 , THE PROJECT LISTED OPPOSITE OUR NAMES, AND TO GIVE THE PROCEEDS FROM EACH PROJECT TO CHURCH Name Project Goal Started Inspected Yield Suggested projects: potatoes, corn, cotton, chickens, a pig, a calf, Sunday eggs, etc. Those working for wages may give dedicated hours of earnings; or, special business or craft projects may b* carried out. Extra lines on other aide Pledge card for the Lord's Acre Plan. evaluate Secretary Wallace in a letter to Doug Stuart. "This year Uncle Dumont had a tremendous crowd out. The freak value of a real life Jap proved a better drawing card than the Secretary of Agriculture—tho I think anyone who knew them both would give the freak award to the Secretary" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, March 22, 1936). At the same time that the Lord's Acre Movement was becoming established the Federation, with the aid of the Educational and Development Fund, spread to new towns and counties: Franklin in Macon County; Morganton in Burke County; Marion in McDowell County; Sylva in Jackson County; Tryon in Polk County; Murphy to serve Cherokee, Clay and Graham Counties; Bryson City in Swain County; Brevard in Transylvania County; Burnsville in Yancey County; and Lenoir in Caldwell County. The area serviced by the Federation, Jim McClure never tired of pointing out, was larger than the three states of Rhode Island, Connecticut and Delaware combined. At seven of the Federation's warehouses, the Federation operated feed mills to grind the farmer's corn and add the correct ingredients for whatever feed the grower needed. All of these warehouses had to be linked together by an efficient transportation system, and the State of North Carolina's highway building program was a key factor in making this possible. The expansion process created its own color, lore and heroes. Whenever enough interest seemed to justify organizing in a new location, sufficient stock would have to be sold to capitalize the new business and to interest the farmers in the Federation operation. No one could sell stock like "Uncle Church" Crow- �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 361 Left to right: James G.K. McClure, Henry Wallace, Dumont Clarke, and Doug Stuart. Photo property of the McClure Fund. ell. He had joined up with Jim McClure during the early days of the Federation, and stuck with him. He was prominent in mountain politics, having represented Buncombe County in the State legislature. He genuinely loved being thrown into a new section to sell stock to strangers. His humor and charm produced results, and a great many tales. He said he liked "to live off the land," stay in the homes and eat off the tables of those people he had come to sign up. Describing the organization of one new county, Jim McClure wrote in the News, "The year 1936 saw the Farmers Federation again expand. In the Autumn our Vice President, R. Church Crowell, together with a committee of McDowell County farmers campaigned in McDowell County and more than three hundred stockholders joined the Farmers Federation. It is said that Mr. Crowell gained twenty pounds during his stay in McDowell."17 In a speech in New York, Jim McClure described in more detail the difficulties of selling stock in the mountains, and then told a story famous in Federation circles about Mr. Crowell. When we expand into an additional county, we have a selling campaign to sell stock in our cooperative. We try to see every farmer in the county. It is a slow job selling the farmer stock. You have got to visit each one. It is a harder job to sell a fanner $10 worth of stock than to sell a $1,000 bond in New York. You have to go and talk with him the first time and he will tell you he will think �sr } >&•'$ ,,-.^v *1 ^» MP i "vm PI w W*-' ...... �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 363 about it, then you have to go back and remember the names of his children, his dog and his pig. It takes three or four visits. We have one man who is extremely good at talking to the farmers—our vice president, Mr. Crowell— and I want to say that all the people running this enterprise are mountain people who have grown up with it. Three or four months ago, a woman, a widow, came to my office. Our people had been out on a stock-selling campaign in the county in which she lived. She said, "Mr. McClure, I have brought ten dollars to buy a share of stock and I want to get it right now. Mr. Crowell came out about three weeks ago and came to my house about eleven o'clock in the morning and started talking about the Farmers Federation. He stayed until dinner time and I had to ask him to sit down to eat dinner and he ate the biggest meal I have ever seen." Then she said, "He went away, but he came back about a week later and wanted to know if I had had time to study about it, and he again talked about an hour about the Farmers Federation. Then it got to be dinner time and I had to ask him to take dinner again, and he ate another tremendous big meal/' and she said, "I want to pay my ten dollars before he comes back another time."18 After this speech, someone asked Jim a very pertinent question, "Can you succeed in getting practically all the farmers in?" He replied: No, we get about 300 members in each county. Out of perhaps 1,500 farmers in a county, we get the best farmers. A great many of our farmers simply cannot get up ten dollars. We let them pay in eggs, chickens or any kind of produce. We deal with non-members as well as members, because the ones we want to do the most for are the ones that can't get up the ten dollars.19 But if a man had the cash, chances were that "Uncle Church" would get it for his Federation. Another story that circulated about him took place during the drive to sign up stockholders in Swain County. [Uncle Church] . . . had a black Ford that used a quart of oil a day . . . He was driving along by himself one rainy day when he spotted a big fire burning by the side of the road. There were men working nearby, and Uncle Church, thinking that it was one of Swain County's WPA road improvement projects, stopped to warm himself and to inquire if there were any good prospects living nearby. The Foreman greeted him cordially, "Step right up and take all the fire you can stand," he urged. "We'll be having lunch directly. Be glad to have you eat with us." This sounded pretty good to Uncle Church, who was a big eater. "I don't want to take away you boys' dinner," he said. But the foreman was strong in his invitation. "No, sir, we got a-plenty. You just wait about fifteen minutes." Pretty soon the men came in from their various tasks, and they ate lunch Opposite: Members of the Lowell Pines Baptist Church (Fairview, N.C.) plant l'/4 acres of potatoes for their Lord's Acre Plan, 1938. ��The Farmers Federation and the Depression 365 and drank coffee around the fire. It was a dark day, and Mr. Crowell was unable to see clearly many of the four around him, but he decided to try selling a little stock to the group anyway. "I've eat dinner off you boys," he said. "Now I'm going to give you something in return. I'm going to make you a speech about the Farmers Federation. "Fine," said the Foreman. A speech about anything would brighten up life in this remote corner. So Mr. Crowell turned lose with a burst of oratory about the Federation. When he finished he said, "Now, I want you boys to take some stock in the Farmers Federation. It'll be the best investment you've ever made. $10 a share, and its the only stock in North Carolina paying 6 percent." "You can put me down for five shares," said the foreman. "I'll take ten dollars worth," chimed in a man who looked like the assistant foreman. "Give me two shares," came a voice in the back. "That's fine boys, Fine," exclaimed Mr. Crowell. "Let me have your names and I'll put you down on this list.. . Now when are you going to pay me for this stock? I'll be glad to take it now, and that will leave you plenty of time to make more before Christmas. Your dividends begin as soon as you pay for your stock. On January 1st you'll get a green check from the Farmers Federation, Incorporated." "Here's fifty dollars for mine," said the foreman, fumbling in his overalls for his wallet, which had a rubber band tied around it. "I'll pay you my ten first of the month," the assistant foreman declared. "I just got through paying my taxes, and that likes to break a man." "How about you, my good man?" Uncle Church asked the man at the rear of the circle who had subscribed for twenty dollars. "Well," the man replied, "The state's got me for thirty years, but I'll pay you as quick as I can after that." Uncle Church had sold to a member of the Chain Gang.20 Once the money was in hand on a stock drive, the warehouse was constructed, and a grand opening planned. In a letter to his son, Jim McClure describes the opening of the Brevard warehouse. Yesterday was a big day—Hitting Asheville about 8, the General Staff of the Federation including the high powered mayor of Bee Tree [Allan Coggins], the fiddlers, the Redoubtable Rotha, Senator Browning, Uncle Dumont and Guy Sales all entrained for Brevard, where at ten o'clock we had a rousing opening of our 17th warehouse. The place was crowded, and some 250 stood up under the barrage, the Senator pulling his well tried stories out of the bag—and all meeting with success—We elected a committee of 10, had lunch with them at 12 o'clock, loaded up again and set out for Fairview Siding. (James G. K. McClure, Jr., to Jamie McClure, date unknown) Opposite: "Uncle Church" Crowell and a group of boy scouts. They raised an acre of tomatoes which brought $145.45 to the Acton Church in Buncombe County in 1942. �366 We Plow God's Fields The purpose behind all of these efforts was, to use Jim's apt slogan to "Help the Mountaineer Help Himself." When raising money for the Educational and Development Fund he never failed to contrast his own programs, which created new wealth, with those of the federal government during the New Deal, which he felt were designed only to divide up existing wealth. His appeal to successful businessmen and their wives in the Northeast for contributions always stressed the independence and the hard-working nature of the mountaineer, traits that held a high place in the values of the American business community. Jim also emphasized the ancestral bond between the Anglo-Saxon Protestants of Western North Carolina and their counterparts up north. He implied that both groups had inherited the same qualities. Anglo-Saxon Protestants believed in the supernatural power of the Creator and in the ability of representative government to protect personal freedom. He convinced his audiences that if the mountaineer was only given the education and the opportunity he, too, would create an economic miracle. Jim was incredibly successful at raising money to develop productive schemes in the region, and to educate the farmers in the new agricultural ways of the twentieth century. The Federation News remained Jim's primary educational tool. With time, the information became increasingly technical and complex, as the farmers learned the vocabulary of their occupation. 0. J. Holler of Union Mills contributed a well-informed column for several years, one he unabashedly called "Master Farmer of Rutherford County." For more than thirty years, Professor S. C. Clapp of Buncombe County, originally the director of the state test farm in Swannanoa and later an officer in the Federation, contributed a knowledgeable column in each issue. After leaving the test farm, he was hired by the Federation as head of its Seed Department. Always, the information stressed scientific management, and the latest in agricultural studies. Reliable ideas were scarce in Western North Carolina, and the Federation aimed to make such knowledge readily accessible. The News also promoted the programs of the Federation, and included a column devoted to women and home economics by Tillie Rotha, a daughter of the Forest Products Department Manager. Elizabeth McClure contributed an anonymous column called "Garden Notes." In 1935 a new and more direct form of education was launched by the Federation. Jim McClure had always wanted to operate a vocational school to train the most promising young men in the region in the business of cooperative agriculture. In many ways, the Farmers Federation Training School was a forerunner of the technical colleges the State of North Carolina would develop much later. The Training School could educate only a few boys at first. They received a thorough and practical education in both agriculture and business. In January of 1937, the members of the third class of the Federation Training School gathered to begin thek year's course. The courses of study include business law, salesmanship, bookkeeping, and a study of the Farmers Federation and the farm cooperative movement. �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 367 In addition to these courses of study, the boys have lectures on many subjects, such as the ones listed below. (a) Seeds, dealing with germination, purity, and sources of different kinds of seeds . .. (b) Insecticides, covering a study of the insect pests, blights, and plant diseases. (c) Marketing of different farm products. (d) Demonstrations in setting up and servicing farm machinery. (e) The religious aspects of the farm cooperative, with practical work in the Lord's Acre Movement. In addition to these lectures, the boys will have practical work all during the year in the different departments of the Farmers Federation, half the time being devoted to study and half the time to securing practical experience . . . This school is attracting wide attention, as it appears to be the first school in the State to train young men in the practical workings of a community service organization like the Farmers Federation.21 One of the young men in the class of 1939 was Don Ramsey, from Cherokee County, the western-most section of North Carolina. He remembers graduating from high school, and finding out that there just were not any jobs for an unskilled eighteen-year-old. He had heard about the interviews for the Training Schools and went down to the Murphy warehouse to find out if he qualified. All the candidates had to be farm boys with superior high school records. Don made the grade, and went to Asheville the following fall. The school was located in the Federation headquarters on Roberts Street, and all the boys roomed at "Ma" Ramsey's place nearby. Bed and board was $7 a week, which gobbled up most of the Federation check of $40 a month each received for the work that was part of the curriculum. The Federation hoped to train young men who would stay with the cooperative after graduating from the training school.22 Don Ramsey became one of the most outstanding warehouse managers, and eventually took over the Federation operation in Murphy. Each of the Federation warehouses competed directly with other feed, seed and hardware businesses. There was always a push to increase volume and profit. The Federation tried to maintain a price edge on the local competition, but oftentimes was out-maneuvered and lost customers. The Federation was well known for its quality seeds and liberal credit as well, and tried to make use of the yearly patronage refund for each customer's business total as an incentive to shop with the Federation. Don Ramsey felt that the reputation of fine seeds helped to draw in loyal customers. Jim McClure had worked with the North Carolina Extension Service and the State Department of Agriculture to make sure that the cooperative handled only the best seeds. Many times farmers were tempted to purchase shoddy seeds for a bargain price, and Jim McClure warned his readers about such false economy in the News. There is only one kind of seed that it pays the farmer to sow and this is the best seed, with the highest germination and free from obnoxious weed seeds. �368 We Plow God's Fields Low grade seed . . . will not only be followed by a poor and scattering crop but may so infest a field with damaging weeds that it will take years of work to remove the pests. . . . Whenever seed prices are high, there always comes out of old cellars and old storehouses a lot of low-grade seed which is offered cheap on the market... It has been our observation that the best farmers, the farmers who make money year after year, are very particular to hunt for and buy the best seed obtainable .. .23 It was not until 1937 that the Federation once again felt strong enough to pay a patronage dividend to its customers. Jim McClure hoped that the resumption of these payments would boost sales through the warehouses, and so asked the farmers to redeem the coupons they had received at the time of each transaction during the past year. Rather than pay out cash, the Federation gave each customer credit towards a $10 share of stock. These patronage refunds had been dropped after 1923, when the organization was facing a severe credit squeeze, which was exacerbated by the central warehouse fire of 1925. With the announcement that the patronage refund rate would be 2 1/2 percent on business done in 1937, Jim reminded everyone to keep their coupons. No matter what incentives were offered to the customers, the balance between success and failure at each warehouse was determined by the ability of each manager and his assistants. The Federation had to push hard to make use of its large buying power, its economy of scale, while at the same time making each warehouse outlet as friendly as a family-owned feed and seed store. A change of personnel was often a touchy operation. The management had to gauge not only the business acumen of an individual, but also his popularity among the patrons. The store in Hendersonville was one of the strongest links in the business chain, and in 1938 its longtime manager, Mr. C. H. T. Bly, decided to retire. Jim McClure worked out an advisory position for him in Tryon, so that the Federation could give him a place to live and a small income to live on. But among Mr. Ely's old customers, the plan did not sit well at all. A groundswell of protest erupted until he was returned to Hendersonville to placate those men and women who were accustomed to "trading" with him. The results were explained in an article in the News. "When Mr. Ely's many friends and customers in Henderson County learned of this proposed move they put up a tremendous outcry against it. Requests that Mr. Bly remain in Henderson County were so numerous that the Directors arranged to retain him at the Hendersonville Warehouse. He will be relieved of the responsibilities of management, but Mr. Bly will be at the Warehouse and ready with his advice and counsel, on which the people of the territory depend."24 One could never underestimate the fierce loyalty the mountaineers felt for their favorite storekeepers. In 1938, Jim McClure was relieved of his duties as general manager of the daily operations of all the Federation warehouses by the appointment of Guy Sales, a carefiil businessman, to this important position. He had been working �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 369 for the Federation since 1922, when he was first engaged as a bookkeeper. Mr. Sales was a thorough man who relied less on morale boosting and good will, and more on disciplined policies carefully carried out. No one understood the inner workings of the cooperative better than he did, having been the sole auditor for most of its existence. He watched as the poultry business grew from a black pot at the Fairview Siding into a million dollar enterprise. He understood the financial weaknesses and strengths of the Federation. For instance, he knew that money was to be made in selling feed to broiler producers, even if money was lost when the birds were marketed. The profits justified the losses. He knew the importance of cash management. Cash flow was often preserved, for instance, by delaying the payment of bills outstanding to the fertilizer and feed companies. "They'd holler a lot of times," he recalls, but the Federation account was one that was too large to drop. Guy Sales also had to try to hold down the flow of credit out of each store, and finally began charging excess amounts against the paychecks of the managers. He hounded the managers to collect those overdue bills from the customers. These hard-nosed policies made the Federation a healthier business enterprise, and Jim McClure was able to devote more effort and time to fund-raising, promotion and expansion.25 Jim's business abilities ran in the direction of creating incentives and devising innovative approaches. He loved contests and prizes, and each year would offer $100 in gold to the manager who could increase his sales percentage the most over a year's time. He also concocted little contests to keep up employee morale, such as the hot competition that grew up over which warehouse could unload a boxcar of fertilizer the fastest. Jim had another vision for helping mountain people to a better life. He wanted to bring industries into Western North Carolina, so that one or two members of every family could earn some cash to supplement the farm income. He wrote men like Henry Ford, urging them to build plants in his district.26 Two very large plants built by Champion Fibre and American Enka, were built and became the beginning of the industrialization of the mountains. Jim decided there was a need for small manufacturing projects and pushed ahead to start some, on his own, in order to create wages where they could not otherwise be earned. At the Fairview Siding, women were hired to make blouses, shirts, uniforms and even rag dolls in what was known as the Federation Sewing Room.27 Later the "sewing room" spawned a uniform company known as "On Duty Clothes," under Federation management. In Henderson County, the cannery operation came to employ between 50 and 150 people, nearly all women, during the harvest season (from July to October). Under the Carolina Sunshine label, the Federation marketed its most unique product, yellow tomato juice, along with canned beans, tomatoes and okra. There was even a brief attempt to can grits, but that product went the way of all bad ideas. The Educational and Development Fund helped to promote a small toy shop in Tryon for a brief period. Most of these projects straggled to �370 We Plow God's Fields show a profit, especially during the Depression. But Jim McClure kept trying to devise schemes for making money in the mountains, and his imagination and courage left few opportunities untried. His goal, largely realized today, was to provide enough opportunities to earn wages so that the families of Western North Carolina could remain on their farms, proud and independent. By design, most of his employment ideas involved women. He felt great pity for them out on their little farms, trapped by the drudgery of their subsistence lives. Jim liked to explain the plight of the mountain woman with a story he told often and well. We are trying to find something that the mountain women can make in their homes and sell, because if these mountain women can earn a little money it will change their whole outlook on life . . . In certain ways, there is no more tragic figure on the American scene . . . The average mountain woman has to cook something like one thousand and ninety-five meals a year, and then when January 1st comes around she has to start right over again and cook another thousand and ninety-five meals. They never get away from home. We thought if we could get a little money in their hands it would mean a great deal to them. They tell a story about the mountain woman that illustrates better than I can tell you the condition of things. A mountain family received a letter from a lawyer stating that the family had been left a legacy of eight hundred dollars. They all gathered around the fire in their log cabin to decide what they would do with that money. The old man thought he would buy a new rifle, the oldest boy thought he would buy a bicycle and one of the boys was going to buy a victrola, the daughter thought she would take a trip to Asheville, she had never been there before; and when they decided what each member of the family would do, there was a pause. They heard the dishes rattling in the kitchen and they remembered their mother, who was doing all the work and washing up all the dishes, and they said, "What will we get for Maw?" They commenced to think, and finally one of the sons had a bright idea, and he said, "Let's get Maw a new axe."28 He liked to calculate not only the number of meals cooked, but also the number of miles a mother travelled in a year to carry water for her family. These figures spoke eloquently enough of the hard lives these women led. It was usually the mother who yearned for a more civilized, more prosperous life for her children. Jim felt that creating work for these mothers, outside or in the home, would open up new possibilities in the lives of the women and their families. He began, like many Northerners before him, to encourage the production and sale of mountain crafts. Knitters, basket weavers, hooked rug producers, and others, were brought together, given quality control guidelines, and put to work. These items usually brought in precious little money for the hours of work that went into making them, but at that time any money was better than none at all. More important, perhaps, was that these women came in touch with other people, both other craftsmen and those living far away who bought what they had made. Moreover, the money received represented self-esteem, and the �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 371 chance to buy something for themselves more fitting than a new axe. The Federation eventually set up a Home Industries Division that would market everything from sorghum molasses to picnic baskets to corn meal to handknitted bed jackets. Jim wrote to Hetty urging her " . . . to buy sweaters from the English Knit Shop in Lake Forest. This is Helen FarwelFs Shop. They are giving us a very nice business and I am suggesting that you go in and demand North Carolina sweaters and buy till it hurts, and then keep on buying!" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, February 3, 1937). Jim had once more brought his old world and his new one in touch with one another. In 1939, Jim steadied himself to gather together his thoughts. What were, realistically, the possibilities for future life in Western North Carolina? Armed, as usual, with reams of statistics, he argued in a paper for the Pen and Plate Club for the "remaking" of his mountain region. He believed that from the potentials of manpower and resources a new basis for civilization was possible in the area. He began by complimenting his fellow Pen and Plate Club members on their intellectual prowess, while simultaneously warning them that his address would be a great deal more prosaic than poetic. The subject I have selected for your attention this evening is "Remaking Western North Carolina." I bring this subject to your attention because it presents not only a local problem, but the type of problem that is facing all communities in the United States . . . In the development of America the time has come when we must turn to the improving or building up of our own communities. As we hear so frequently, the frontier is gone . . . Opportunity was unlimited, but it was always found by moving on. A pioneer could take up land, kill off the fish and game near his cabin, skim the fertility off the soil and then move on to the frontier again and homestead another tract of land .. . The frontier dominated American thinking and now the frontier has gone, and America finds herself faced with an entirely different task. That task is to develop our own communities with the same drive and energy and determination and daring, with which we have developed the unexplored frontier . . . To bring this matter right home to us I want tonight to talk about our own community—Western North Carolina . . . The people of Western North Carolina are chiefly rural people. The population of the 18 counties in 1930 was 390,359, of whom 73,516 were urban, which means that 81% of the population is rural. .. . . . During the past twenty years, changes have come . . . Excellent roads have opened up the entire territory, penetrating and connecting up even the most inaccessible sections. Tremendous improvement has been made in the State school system, and High School opportunity has been placed within reach of nearly all the boys and girls. Some new industries have come into this territory, bringing their life-giving pay rolls and followed by a higher standard of living . . . we really need thirty or forty times as many as we have. I also want to point out in considering our subject that we have in this mountain territory one asset of very high value. A few days ago I had the privilege of having lunch with General Wood, of Sears Roebuck, and Henry �372 We Plow God's Fields Ford. General Wood spent some time in telling Mr. Ford that America's most precious resource was in the South. He referred to the young people under 21. North Carolina has roughly twice as many young people—under 21—as Illinois in proportion to population. And this mountain region is particularly rich in this precious asset of the human race—children . . . Lest we think that good roads, industries, and schools have solved this problem [of farm income] during these years, I want to present to you recent figures. [1937]. These figures of income and outgo [are] an average of 59 TVA demonstration farms in one of our counties. These are taken as average farms, and careful accounts kept . . . the average of these 59 demonstration farms is 54 acres . . . Of the 54 acres—11 will be in crops, 5 in meadow, 15 in open pasture, 21 in woods pasture and 2 in buildings, garden, roads, etc. The average livestock will be 1 horse or mule, a pig, 40 chickens . . . The total income is $486.81. The total farm expense is $437.25, leaving net cash of $49.56 for the cash needs of a family of six for one year. Gentlemen, let your mind rest on that figure a moment, $49.56, for a family of 6 for a year. Why, a sickness, or a burial, would wipe it out in one day. What about books? What about subscriptions to a paper? What about a winter coat for the wife? What about a few toys for the children at Christmas? They are out, gentlemen, completely out. May I remind you, in posing this problem, that these people in this territory are practically 100% the old American stock. It is one of the only areas in the South where there are few negroes—less that 10% of our population being colored and in the rural districts very much less than that. . . Jim McClure proceeds to sort through the bewildering list of New Deal programs and their impact on Western North Carolina. By 1939, he was quite disillusioned with Franklin Roosevelt, and the federal debt that he had built up paying for his "alphabet" projects. But he was fair to point out the benefits of new roads, agricultural loan programs, low-cost fertilizer from the TVA, and the bold thrust to promote soil and water conservation. He then concluded with these remarks. And now I want to revert to my subject, "Remaking Western North Carolina," and to the question I posed. Reminding you of our low income farmer with a net cash income of $49.56 per year, and reminding you of a lack of income so general that in Swain County 82% of the population are certified as needing relief. What can we do about this problem? How can it be solved? How can civilization be remade and opportunity of development created? In the first place we must note that many of these Federal expenditures are only of a temporary nature. They cannot continue because they are expenditures of debt, not of income, and regardless of their merit they cannot continue on this scale. Those that are worth retaining can only be retained if we balance our national budget. This spending spree will be stopped by the people of the United States voluntarily and with courage, or it will be stopped involuntarily by our credit giving o u t . . . In the second place the farm activities described are building up the soil, improving practices and improving conditions. �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 373 In the third place the emergency government programs are not building any permanent income. The money runs off as fast as the rain runs off our mountains. In the fourth place in a section like ours, of low incomes and no capital, we must create markets, develop industries, and develop services for which money can be received. For these things we must accumulate capital. We must save up capital and invest it in our own enterprise and in our own communities. We have the population, but we have very few constructive enterprises being developed. And what we need above all is men and women who will spend their lives developing our communities or developing a small industry—who will make that their life work. And we must not forget to conserve the spiritual resources of this territory. No word of that in [the] Federal program, everything [is] on the material basis. In all this gigantic machinery of Federal spending in all its roar and confusion, we can hear scarcely a note of the spiritual, and it will always be true that "man cannot live by bread alone." It will be out of spiritual development and insight and motive that new life will come to this community.29 Despite Jim's personal ambivalence about many aspects of Roosevelt's New Deal, the Federation certainly benefited from the favorable climate for cooperatives that existed during these years. Public attitudes toward the idea of cooperatives swung back and forth, from the notion that anyone promoting such enterprises was tending toward socialism; to its opposite, that cooperatives provided a much superior business model when compared with traditional profit capitalism. After 1930, the pendulum swung decidedly towards the latter opinion. But general public acceptance was only one of the results that benefited Jim's work. Legislation on many levels provided specific aids and incentives to cooperatives. A bank was organized with government capital, designed specifically to loan money to operations like the Farmers Federation. The branch that served Western North Carolina, the Columbia Bank for Cooperatives, became a willing source of cash, and strengthened the financial position of the Federation immeasurably. Another institution, the Farm Credit Cooperative Bank of Washington, lent money as well. The crown jewel of the New Deal, the Tennessee Valley Authority, encompassed a large part of the Federation territory. The TVA assisted farmers through demonstration projects using low cost, high analysis fertilizers. These fertilizers are now widely used on a commercial basis. The Soil Conservation Service was one more federal agency that helped mountain farmers improve their land during these years. Jim McClure helped organize the Soil and Water Conservation District in his area. Because farm commodity prices remained low during the thirties, the Federation's profits were scarce. Moreover, many of his Fund contributors were hit hard by the stock market crash, making that source of capital more uncertain. But Jim didn't quit trying. He wrote to Hetty, "Dumont and I are trying to take money away from the tight fisted money barons and economic Royalists of Wall St. D is a huge help, he has a campaign spirit on him that bids fair to high �374 We Plow God's Fields pressure Wall St. just as he has high-pressured the mountaineer" (James F. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet McClure Stuart, October 10, 1936). With help from these sources, the Federation did expand into new counties, and with new services. The tobacco and forest products projects remained healthy operations through the thirties, while Jim McClure worked to improve the income of dairymen through the Blue Ridge Milk Producers' Association. By the end of the Depression, the Farmers Federation's sales began to approach the million dollar mark, a figure that had been reached only once before, in 1929. Volume had increased steadily through the Depression years, but soft prices kept the dollar total low. Despite all the discouragements, year in and year out, Jim McClure never wavered in his determination to push the organization to the limits of its capacity in order to fulfill its destiny of "Helping the mountain farmers to help themselves." 1. Minutes of the Farmers Federation, Meeting held January 21, 1931, p. 95., Book no. 1, "December 9, 1926 through April 18, 1934." 2. James G. K. McClure, Jr., personal financial statement, January 1, 1931, his personal account book. 3. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Farmers Federation News, January 1930. 4. Farmers Federation News, August, 1930. 5. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Yale Alumni Weekly, December 30, 1932. 6. Interview with Mr. Guy Sales. 7. Interview with James McClure Clarke. 8. Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again (New York: Scribners, 1934). 9. Farmers Federation News, March 1927. 10. James G. K. McClure, Jr., Farmers Federation News, February 1930. 11. James G. K. McClure, Jr., speech on the Farmers Federation, given September 10, 1935, and transcribed in "Proceedings of the New York Farmers, 1934-1935 Season," New York, 1935, p. 14. 12. Ibid., p. 15. 13. James G. K. McClure, Jr., sermon, "Something is Moving in the Countryside." 14. James G. K. McClure, Jr., speech on the Lord's Acre, date and place unknown. 15. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Rackets and the Public," unpublished paper written in the early 1930s. 16. Henry A. Wallace, quoted in the Asheville Citizen-Times, Sunday, February 24, 1935. 17. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Seventeenth Year," Farmers Federation News, August, 1937, p. 7. 18. Op Cit., New York Farmers, p. 16. 19. Ibid., p. 18. Question asked by Mr. James Henry Hammond. 20. James McClure Clarke, anecdote written in personal notebook. 21. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, February 1937, p. 4. 22. Interview with Mr. Don Ramsey, March 20, 1981. 23. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, February, 1937, p. 4. �The Farmers Federation and the Depression 375 24. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, September 1938, p. 13. 25. Interview with Mr. Guy Sales. 26. letter from the Ford Motor Company to James G. K. McClure, Jr. 1922 (exact date unknown.) 27. Interview with Mrs. Ethel Williams, February 2, 1982. 28. Op Cit., New York Farmers, p. 13. 29. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "Remaking Western North Carolina," speech given at the Pen and Plate Club, Asheville, 1939. �Chapter Eighteen The Picnics* How do you do everybody, How are you? It's the Farmers Federation greeting you. Now we hope you're feeling fine, And we'll have a great big time. How do you do- do- do- do- do- do-? (Written and sung by Gaither Robinson) For more than twenty years, the Farmers Federation picnics were a joyful mixture of entertainment and education for countless people in Western North Carolina. A picnic was a day of friendship and goodwill, held once a year in a high school or courthouse in each county served by the Federation. The purpose of these gatherings was twofold: to educate people about the programs offered by the Federation, and to encourage the musical talent of the mountains, both string players and choirs and quartets from rural churches. Here was an outlet and an audience for many talented local performers in the days before organized recreation and television. The idea for the picnics doubtless grew out of the Federation stockholders' meetings, which were held at night in each warehouse during early spring, just before planting time. Jim McClure and Guy Sales, the general manager, reported on the progress of business, and the Farmers Federation String Band played a few numbers. Usually only farmers who were seriously committed to supporting the cooperative attended, often with wives and children. These were small, cozy meetings, with chairs drawn up near the heater among the shelves of groceries, and baby chicks chirping from stacked up cages in the corner of the warehouse. Chicks were given as door prizes and made a great hit. After the business there was often a little buck dancing by male members of the audience before coffee and doughnuts were handed round. Jim wanted this kind of program available to larger audiences. Buck dancing was a traditional dance in the mountains done exclusively by men (at least in public). The steps have evolved into what is now called clogging. The first picnic occurred in the early thirties. They gradually became large gatherings that anywhere from 800 to 1,000 people might attend, sometimes *This chapter is written in cooperation with and with the invaluable assistance of James McClure's daughter, Elspeth McClure Clarke. 376 �The Picnics 377 Gaither Robinson (banjo), Johnny Rhymer (fiddle) and "Panhandle Pete'1 playing for a Farmers Federation Warehouse meeting. Photo property of the McClure Fund. even more. The Farmers Federation String Band was the mainstay of entertainment, but an amazing array of local performers always showed up. Every summer there would be three or four especially good acts, and these performers would be asked to attend some or all of the picnics the next year, while receiving a small stipend to cover expenses. Jim often talked about "the great reservoir of musical talent in the Southern mountains" and loved both the string music and the church singing with which he had become so familiar as he attended many different country churches. He used to say you never heard a sour note in the mountains. A picnic began officially at ten o'clock. To reach places at the eastern edge of the Federation territory like Morganton and Lenoir, or far to the west like Murphy and Hayesville, the McClure family had to leave home by five thirty or six. Elizabeth was not an early morning person, but she got up gamely and Jim would cheerfully make breakfast, urging everyone all the while to hurry. The McClures usually carried a performer or two with them. Gaither Robinson, banjo picker and lead singer of the Farmers Federation String Band for many years, used to sit sideways on the back seat of the car and play and sing to while away the hours on the road. Jim would call for one number after another. It was a wonder Gaither wasn't hoarse before he ever reached the picnic. There were always people gathered on the school grounds and even a few expectantly sitting in the auditorium or court room when the McClure's arrived. Two or three daughters of Federation employees greeted people as they entered �378 We Plow God's Fields the building, pinning on yellow picnic tags and urging them to come right up and take a good seat. In later years Jim's two granddaughters would help, too. Jim mounted the stage dressed in white shirt and "ice cream pants," his picnic uniform, to start the program. He was never late, except twice. Once he had two blowouts on the way over Soco Gap to Bryson City. And once he arrived at the Burnsville picnic, always held on the fourth of July to open the season, both a few minutes late and wearing dark pants. His four-year-old granddaughter Annie (now the wife of the author of this book), had been sick in his lap on the way. Her birthday was July third and the combination of birthday cake, firecrackers, mountain roads and the first picnic was hard on the digestion of such a small trouper. Different musicians played in the Federation Band over the years, but Gaither Robinson was always there. Jim began the day by introducing the band and calling on Mr. Robinson to greet the audience with a song called "How Do You Do?" Gaither had springy white hair and wore steel-rimmed spectacles. He always looked newly scrubbed and earnest. His voice was high and distinct and he dead-panned the funny lines in such a way that all his songs became comic. The audience felt relaxed and cozy the minute he began to sing: How do you do everybody, How are you? It's the Farmers Federation greeting you Now we hope you're feeling fine, And we'll have a great big time. How do you do- do- do- do- do- do-? The morning program featured string music interspersed with talks on farming and programs of the cooperative. Jim McClure and Dumont Clarke always spoke, as well as other officers of the cooperative and usually a local representative of the State Agriculture Extension Service. The Federation band started the program off with several numbers and remained in the wings ready to fill in if necessary, but many local performers always turned up in the course of the morning to register with Jim as he sat at a table on one side of the stage. As local worthies arrived he would interrupt the program to recognize them. "Here comes Mr. Winslow Burgin, one of our Farmers Federation directors," he would say. "We're all glad to see him and we want you to come right up here and sit on the stage." Or "Sheriff Hines, we know we'll have a good picnic today with you here to keep order. Step right up on the platform with us!" If he could not remember some name he would send out a runner to find out. Soon everyone in the audience felt they were a personal friend of Jim McClure's, and part of the show. The membership of the string band changed occasionally. Fender Rector was fiddler until the early forties, a stocky little man with a big grin who always encouraged young performers. Johnny Rhymer followed him, himself one of the young performers Fender had encouraged, and he became a legend in the �The Picnics 379 mountains, playing as fast in 1989 as he did in 1943. He played old English fiddle tunes like "Bonaparte's Retreat" or the latest tune from Nashville and he always got an audience into the swing. Jim understood how important it is to keep a program moving, and since the possible performers were an unpredictable group, changing from picnic to picnic and from year to year, this required an imaginative approach and a sure feel for the mood of the audience. When Elspeth began to help at the picnics, her job was to line up performers and speakers in the wings of the stage ready to appear when he called them. In later years, when Jim's nephew Jamie Clarke ran the picnics, he, too, understood how important it was to keep speeches short. Once he surreptitiously sent one of his small sons, Dumont, to offer a speaker a cookie, which effectively checked him in the midst of an oratorical flight. The picnic audience was a fluid mass. Everyone felt perfectly free to leave the auditorium when the spirit moved. People were constantly arriving to swell the crowd, while others were going out, not to leave the picnic, but to cool off outside, or talk with a friend perhaps not seen since last year, or to try to find a family member temporarily lost in the confusion. As people left their seats others came in to take their places in the hot, stuffy auditorium. Little girls would sit obediently with their mothers; but little boys moved in independent, unpredictable groups. Often they were dressed up in white shirts and clean bib overalls— "mean little oF boys," Max Roberts, picnic director, and head of the Federation Training School, called them. If people sensed the least threat of boredom in a speech, an exodus would begin. First a group of "little oF boys" in the front row would leave, then a woman with a baby, soon followed by a mother with several children. A portly man would rise in the center of the hall and push his way out to stride up the aisle toward the doors, soon followed by a whole group of men and women, until the house was half empty. The unfortunate speaker droned hopelessly on, almost drowned out by the tread of heavy feet. Jim was a natural showman and he quickly learned to intersperse the educational parts of the program with audience-riveting entertainers. "Next we're going to hear Johnny Rhymer play 'Home, Sweet Home' on the balloon," he would announce. "But just before he comes on we're going to hear a few words from Professor Smith, who knows more than any one in Western North Carolina about this new hybrid corn." The crowd squirmed a little, but no one wanted to lose a seat just before Johnny Rhymer came on. A "walk out" was always a threat, keeping the maestro on his toes. When Jamie McClure, Jamie Clarke and later Elspeth were away serving in the Navy in World War II Elizabeth wrote letters to them describing the picnics. She could write very fast, describing the performances just as it was happening. �380 We Plow God's Fields Audience at the annual Yancey County Picnic of the Farmers Federation, July 4, 1942. "Darling Elfie," she began one such letter, It's a lovely day—cool and crisp with floating whipped cream clouds and the countryside fresh and green after a good shower yesterday. Corwith [Cramer] and Corwith's friend John Compton, . . . are here for the picnic season as lemonade boys," We are packed into the Buick with Betty Huntley, Daddy and I. Betty is playing, "Oh, what a Beautiful Morning," and the day looks promising, with picnickers streaming along the road towards Burnsville school house . . . I shall try to give you a running account of the picnic as the events of the day move along. Mr. Wilson Edwards, who is the Chairman of the Farmers Federation in Yancey [County], has just opened up by turning the meeting over to "Mr. McClure." "Mr. Clarke [Rev. Dumont Clarke] is making a very fine prayer and now Daddy is introducing Norman Barnett [manager of the Burnsville warehouse] and the other members of the warehouse [team] . . . Now! Mr. Robinson [is] singing, "How do you do?" (He looks more immaculate than ever—simply shining). Mrs. Elizabeth Anglin, a very sprightly young blonde on the plump side, is swirling through "The Old Age Pension Check Comes to Our Door."* *Here are two verses of the song, very popular that summer: When the old age pension check comes to our door Then Grandma won't be lonesome any more They'll be waiting at the gate, Every night she'll have a date When the old age pension check comes to our door. �The Picnics . . . [Next] the Drake [Sisters] four teenage girls, part Indian, with black eyes and flashing smiles, always escorted and accompanied on the piano by their father. They were a "hit" [last year] and so were invited to attend several picnics with us ... A little speech from Joy (the oldest) who is introducing the different members. Joy has put up her hair and looks quite different but the singing is just as much of a knock-out as ever. Little Bunny's voice is even more tremendous! I think they sang a hymn but it was all expressed in very fine jazz time to which the ever ready toe of the audience lent instant tapping response. They are now giving an encore of "Comin' in on a Wing and a Prayer" with perfectly super harmonies and much feeling, a good slow tempo and much dragging of the key words. The audience is sitting pop-eyed. Now they are changing the tempo and doing some very complicated harmonizing, very fast and effective. (Mr. Drake at the piano is really something to see— slick and jaunty. He always has a slight air of the race track about him, to me!) Betty Huntley in a green and white striped dress . . . is singing, "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'." She has a truly, lovely voice and the song "suits it." Next we are going to have the "Wabash Cannon Ball" sung by two Yancey County performers. The boy has sandy hair and a penetrating, tight mountain voice. Fender Rector is "helping" with the fiddle and the Cannon Ball is really going to town. People are coming in in streams. The building is already full—and the day only starting. [Now] little Gene Boone is singing "Gro-u-nd Hawg"—a most wonderful version mat he undoubtedly learned from his grandfather as he sings it in the traditional half singing—half talking fashion of the pioneer, with a wonderful drag and slur and melancholy whine to Gr-aa-o-und Haw-g that is just inimitable.** Betty Huntley is at it again, singing "The San Fernando Valley" hi the best radio style. Mr. Bailey for the Farm Security organization is about to speak. There is a menacing movement from the rear which may or may not be a "walk out." Mr. Bailey is struggling to get en rapport with his audience. So far no luck. It's all copy book stuff. Yancey County is definitely bored. But it's over now. I'm afraid his message didn't grip. Now another Mr. Bailey is giving another message from the Farm Security organization which turns out to be a series of remarkable animal noises: an old hen, a superlative midnight cat, baby chicks at all stages of development, a rooster that was absolutely triumphant in his crowing. The crowd is just amazed. Now, Mr. Bailey is getting in a little farming stuff. He's good. Very direct and clear. "Produce more, on less All the drug stores will go busted on that day, And cosmetics they will all go out to stay, Faded cheeks will be the rage, And old maids will tell their age, When the old age pension check comes to our door. **Here comes Sal with a giggle and a grin, Here comes Sal with a giggle and a grin, Ground Hawg grease all over her chin. Gr—o—u—nd Haw—g, Gr—oo—uu—nd Haw—g. 381 �382 We Plow God's Fields Claude Boone, Betty Jean Boone and Eugene Boone, Caldwell County Picnic, Kings Creek School, August 7, 1943. ground." Now he's doing Bob White and Lady Bob White, the Song Sparrow, the Cardinal and now a Turkey hen calling her young, an old "house dog" greeting strangers, hunting a rabbit and "raring up bayin' at the moon" and now a few words urging us to "keep the birds and let them kill the insects and so save insecticides and money." Now, a Whip-poor-will followed by a squirrel and the most amazing whinny of an old horse out at pasture —wild applause .. . Uncle Dumont brought a sailor boy—a young man named McCurdy who is just about to speak on his experiences in Salerno . . . an impressive and interesting talk and should help the [war bond] sales. (Daddy announces) "All you singers come up and help us sing America," and now "All you singers break right into this—'When the Roll is Called up Yonder' —There's a few �The Picnics 383 people in the house not singing!! Sing! Sing!—'When the Roll is called up yonder, I'll be there.'" Daddy is now paying a tribute to the singing of Yancey County and Western North Carolina in general.. . (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Elspeth McClure, My 4, 1944, from Bumsville, NC) The picnics were a good combination of sacred and secular music. There was always a slight rift between the gospel singers and the string players. Some, like Betty Huntiey, a preacher's daughter herself, were beginning to bridge the gap, accompanying both hymns and ballads on the guitar, but the gap was there—some lingering feelings that dance music and drinking went together and promoted sinful activities. Max Roberts, head of the Federation Training School and a devoted churchman, had to spend a lot of time making arrangements with string performers in his capacity of picnic director. Sometimes he found them undependable and often he could be heard muttering under his breath, "Musicianers are all low down and lazy." One string band that filled in for the Federation band one summer, when Johnny Rhymer was in the army and Fender Rector was working full time in a pawn shop, lived up to Max's worst fears. Sometimes they would not appear at the picnic until after noon, and then drag in looking pallid and hung over. But when they stepped onto the stage their smiles lit up like electricity, and the lead singer, Elmer, would belt into "Blessed Jesus, Hold My Hand." Every old lady in the audience would be wiping away tears by the time he finished. Gaither Robinson disproved all Max's theories about "musicianers," with his exemplary employment record as a bus driver and his solid life. The combination of both kinds of music at the picnics helped to dispel prejudice about string music. Elspeth remembers a minister who opened the afternoon session with prayer saying, "Thank you, Lord, for allowing us to forget ourselves." One of the most remarkable things about the picnics was that they brought all elements of a community together. The man who was known to take a drink too often would sit faithfully listening to a church choir. Solid, respectable farm families would be crowded cheek by jowl with the drifters and ne'er-do-wells. The socially approved and those they disapproved all seemed happy together for one day. Segregation or integration never came up. Who could be more eloquent than the Black preacher at Hayesville who always said the blessing over the truckload of watermelons? To keep the audience attentive to his report on the various departments of the Federation and the new programs he wanted to emphasize, Jim adopted a plan of getting well known local figures to stand up in a line on the stage, each wearing a large placard labeled with the name of one of the departments. As he made his report on the progress of the cooperative he would have each man step forward to be introduced. Then he would speak about the activity his placard represented. Elizabeth included snatches from Jim's talk in her letter from Bumsville in 1944: ��The Picnics 385 We now have 13,000 members . . . All we did when we started out was to establish a beach head. We soon found we must develop specialists in all branches of farming. Little by little we have done this ... We've developed a bunch of boys .who have come up through our training school . .. Hard to get feed [This was because of wartime scarcities], but we've managed to keep feed . . . The biggest business ever this year—over three million dollars . . . want to remind you that you are now beginning to get control of your own business . . . When you trade with your own stores, every sale goes back into increasing the service of the Farmers Federation. Here, the egg price has never dropped below 27 cents. In many other parts of the country eggs dropped to 15 cents. Tennessee asked us to come over there and take charge of the egg situation which was desperate. We were able to do this in the Eastern section of the State . . . We need our own feed mills, our own sawmills, freezer lockers .. . Have a little patience . .. It's a tough time to do business . . . surely stick to the Farmers Federation as it is the one hope of your doing business: The letter continued: Mrs. Elizabeth Anglin is now singing, "I'll Die for the Red White and Blue," a dreary little song sung at top speed. Jack Gattis [head of the Federation Hatchery] is now at the loud speaker. There is something about the look and sound of him that makes for confidence. "Our incubators have a capacity of 462,000,900 chicks per week. We have resources here for growing the best poultry in the United States . . . Your money is staying right here at home when you trade with the Federation." [Now] Daddy is summoning the cacklers [hen imitators]. Frank Reed [manager of the Fairview warehouse] is in top form and [there is] a wonderful old guy who swoops and crows and must have spent his life in a hen house. "Now Mr. Harry Love will give a talk on tobacco." (The back of the room has 7 rows deep of people standing) . . . (a very interesting and quite astonishing statement on the possibilities of making money with tobacco [follows]). Mr. Love has impressed everyone. While the audience is taking this in, a group of 4 young men have appeared with guitars and a part-song with wonderful slurs and harmonies and repeats. Thunderous applause. "We'll have them back again." "How many of you read the Federation News!" Daddy inquires. (A big show of hands.) 'That's a good number. Now I shall introduce the Editor of the Federation News. Bob [Brown] is very dashing in a palm beach suit with a new hair cut. We have some post cards here with a picture of a picnic truck." [Bob Brown tells the audience. The truck is crammed with people.] "The cards will he passed so that everyone can write a message to a boy or girl in the service. Then you may drop them at the Bond Booth and they will be stamped and mailed free.."..Some very fine yodeling is going on right now while the postcards are being passed. (Never fear, you will receive one!)... Mr. Nor- Opposite: Jamie Clarke, "Freezer Lockers"; Dumont Clarke—"The Lord's Acre"; and Jim McClure speaking, Burnsville (Yancey County) picnic, July 4,1947. �386 We Plow God's Fields man Barnett [warehouse manager] is giving forth a ... welcome to the picnickers and is telling the glad tidings of the watermelon feast in store. And now, [a little grey speaker is rising to give some expert agricultural advice.] The poor dear man has not uttered three words but the tramp, tramp, is starting and there is a vast progression toward the door . . . The end has come at last. We are now all stampeding toward the watermelons. The noon hour, as far as we were concerned, was notable for the fact that nobody had brought anything to eat so that our sandwiches and tomatoes just melted away. Except for Mrs. Greenwood who had a superb pie and cake and delectable sandwiches. No one else seemed to have brought anything . . . The place was a complete shambles from the watermelon orgy and Corwith and John and a crew of little boys toiled for a long time cleaning up; the races [sack races, relay races] were "run off and it was at length time to begin the afternoon events. Perry Green [head of the Poultry department] opened up with a lengthy discourse on chickens. Five fair maids of uncertain age were introduced as the "egg handling crew" and received enthusiastic applause. (At this point, the egg crew returned having to clamber over me ... both exiting and entering.) They were swiftly followed by a very active [buck] dance given by a number of old timers and "Little Bob Brown." [eight-year-old son of the editor of the News.] Then four young men engaged in a very clever harmony-there is a basso-profundo . . . "Kneel at the Cross" was wonderful . . . The bond chairman has just reported $1600.00 in bond sales. Much enthusiasm. Now a Navy petty officer is speaking—a funny little guy from N. J. who said a great many words all of which boiled down to a general appreciation of the region. A little boy about 7 or 8 is singing "There's a Star Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere." He has a piercingly true little voice, with a lovely cool quality and the crowd liked him. It was his first [Public] appearance and he was completely calm and unruffled. Little Cleo Owenby is now at the piano and Frank [Reed] is assembling his cohorts for a big general sing. "We want to sing 'Revive Us Again'" (The hymns and songs of the afternoon have been typed on sheets of paper distributed around for all to use.) Daddy is asking for "I Shall Not be, I Shall Not be Moved." (How many great, good times that brings to mind.) Now Daddy is saying that if we want to maintain our freedom and liberty, it must be done by maintaining the spiritual atmosphere of the rural home and the rural church . . . Mr. Clarke is now being introduced and is making a fine address. Everyone listens intently. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Elspeth McClure, July 4, 1944) Dumont Clarke attended every picnic to report on the progress of the Lord's Acre Plan, which was spreading far and wide in the United States and even into the mission field. He was tall and straight, with silver hair and a kind and commanding presence, and the audience always gave him rapt attention. Although he spoke quietly, he was an orator and he was greatly loved by people all over the mountains. He had probably spoken in every church from Murphy in the west to Lenoir in the east, had dinner at someone's house afterwards, and �The Picnics 387 Left to right: Charlie Ownby, Broadus Morrow, Boyce Moon, Lewis Kirstein and "Little" Cleo Ownby—The Fairview Quartette [sic], first prize winners at the Buncombe County Picnic, July 15, 1943. photographed young people of every church with their pigs, chickens, calves or crops dedicated to the Lord. The contest for best choir and quartet followed Dumont's talk. Jim was very interested in the traditional "shaped note" singing of the mountains. The shape of the note, whether a square, a triangle, a circle, etc., indicated the pitch rather than its position on the staff. These hymns were fun to sing, with complicated parts and a fast tempo. The prizes offered at the picnics were new hymn books. Singers liked to get a new paperback set every year or two and learn new hymns. We return to Elizabeth's letter as the singing contests followed Reverend Dumont Clarke's talk: The Swannanoa quartet is assembling—all older men. (While they are being introduced, all the members of the Big Ivy Choir are coming up to the stage -a huge crowd of all ages and sizes.) The Swannanoa quartet is doing a grand job, "Keep a Little Sunshine in Your Sky." Now, an encore, something very gay and foot-tapping—with a great emphasized rhythm. [Now the choir:] There are a vast number of girls singing—the men are all concentrated on the back line and there must be at least 16 or 18 girls. Now they are off again. "There's a Mansion up Yonder Just Waiting for Me." The Roberts family are now singing—two very pretty girls and a professional father who has a big bass voice. The song is one of the most compli- �388 We Plow God's Fields cated—part-singing in the chorus dominated by the soprano—extremely clear and true. Loud applause from the crowd and an encore in prospect. A wild scurry at this point when the microphone took a stagger and almost fell into the expectant arms of the audience, but Mr. Drake (father of the singing sisters), by a sort of ju-jitsu caught it before it took a final spin. The Roberts never batted an eyelash but launched right into "The Cabin on the Hill"—very well done with a fascinating rhythm and a sort of counter point performance on the part of the singers. "Next, I am calling on all the singers to come up and sing under Frank Reed in a big song." Uncle Joe Pressley and Preacher Riley Corn are assembling their chorus. Now they are off, Uncle Joe's white head focussing the picture. Daddy is almost into the choir—just hanging onto the fringe! Frank is in his element and Uncle Joe can be heard all over the hall. A little bit of a girl is singing with all she's got. "I'm so happy singing Halleluyah, halleluyah! (I must say I've always thought Halleluyah was a lovely musical word, no matter what you do to it!) Another quartet of four is now singing. Two long, lanky boys, a pretty girl with yellow curls and a little short, stumpy man. Two good songs from diem, no piano accompaniment which is much the nicest with this kind of singing, I think. Now a solo by Miss Bunny Drake, a wonderful song, "When they ask about you." Huge applause. Now all 5 sisters are singing, "Coming in on a wing and a prayer." (I miss Joy's curls terribly!) Deafening applause, shouts, yells, cat calls of enthusiasm. They will have to come back. Here they are, singing "Swing Low." Joy has the lead and Bunny replies. I should think that they might be snapped up by a Broadway Producer. "It's the only song we know how to sing backwards—would you like to hear us?" With that they all turned their backs and sang the last verse. The audience yelled! . .. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Elspeth McClure, July 4, 1944) The picnic at Bryson City had a special character because a large part of the Cherokee Indian Reservation lived in Swain County, and many Indians attended. In July 1945, Elizabeth wrote about the Bryson City picnic, this time to Jamie Clarke and Elspeth when they were in the Navy in Washington, D. C. According to her report the family rose at the usual early hour, and . . . Betty [Huntley] was waiting for us at her mail box and we picked up little Jean Kennickel at Fairview. She is a little bit of a thing—weighs about 90 Ibs. and looks 12, with golden hair, lovely little features . . . She is 17 but so tiny that her accordion almost covers her up. The picnic is now officially opening with a welcome from Frank Bird who is in charge of the warehouse here. Now comes Frank Reed leading the "Old Rugged Cross" and then a good but very long prayer by a local "preacher." Daddy is reminding everyone that the Federation picnic today in Swain County is to be dedicated to friendship and goodwill. Now he is giving a brief recognition to all the boys in the fighting forces "whose wonderful achievements maintain the things we believe in." Uncle Jim is now urging everyone to keep in mind the need for food �The Picnics 389 Shirley andlrma Styles, 11 and 12 years old, daughters of Mrs. Ted Styles, who accompanies them on the piano, 1947. production. The moment is come for Gaither [Robinson] to mount the rostrum and after the usual stupefying introduction he is singing "How do you do?"— He looks if possible even more dapper than usual. . . . Betty [Huntley]... 'There's a Happy Land Somewhere" . . . She looks very sweet and sings really beautifully . . . The crowd likes it so she's at it again with "Don't Sing Aloha When I Go.."..Billy Owl, a small 8 year old Indian boy, is now singing "In the Halls of Montezuma." Mr. Robinson is helping with his banjo and the little Owl is a lusty singer, with more vigor than melody. Mrs. Leila Smart with a five year old and a six year old are now up to bat. The little girls have the softest little voices and are singing in perfect harmony, "Don't Fence Me In," while their mother accompanies them with the guitar—huge applause. As usual, the smaller and younger you are, the more the crowd loves the performance. A �390 We Plow God's Fields little 12 year old girl and two small brothers are now playing and singing a complicated, fast mountain hymn, with long drawn out wailing harmonies. Guy Sales is up now looking very solid and impressive. His speeches get better and better—very direct and to the point and everyone seems to want to listen. He is explaining the cooperative movement and its significance—"A movement framed up out of necessity." He is explaining the assets in the co-op and the meaning it has for the people—how they can go to work and buy stock—just what services can be worked up that will make life easier and more abundant. Good applause. No walk outs . . . A harmony trio, all "Breedloves," are at the microphone—two girls with white blouses and short black cotton skirts with white ruffles,—and a younger brother. They appear to be triplets—all the same size and shape—all redheads. It's surprising how much red hair and red gold hair there is in the mountains. I suppose it's the Scotch ancestry. [Now Jim:] "We are very fortunate in having with us your County Agent"— a very warming little introduction by the President. The agent looks like a friendly, likeable person. [He boosted the seeds and fertilizer sold by the Farmers Federation and ended with an encouraging report of REA (Rural Electrification Administration)] .. . many benefits may be anticipated. Electricity for everyone. [Many farm families did not have electric power at this time.] (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Elspeth McClure Clarke and Jamie Clarke, July 8, 1945) Reverend Dumont Clarke was hi charge of the next event—"Musical Chairs." He would call a group of well known local citizens up to the stage to take part. The Federation band provided the music. Johnny Rhymer was, and still is, a master of the sudden stop—it sent participants tumbling into the available chairs. The incongruity of large, serious men playing this children's game on stage never failed to delight the audience. Dumont's daughter, Phebe Ann Lewis, had suggested the game and it became a perennial hit. Elizabeth described how it went: A group of solid leading citizens including the Sheriff [come on stage]. Mr. McClure with a most impressive manner is turning the program over to Uncle Dumont and "Musical Chairs" is now in progress with 10 Swain County worthies, a little dazed—The crowd is asked to "pick a winner"—The band starts up and the leading citizens are parading solemnly round! Casualties are beginning;— "Walt Jenkins is out!" Eight are left. The audience is loving it. The Sheriff is still hi. Round and round they go to the strains of "Sourwood Mountain." Two more are left out. The situation grows more tense. Several more casualties. "The Sheriff is out!" Only two are left—Harry Breedlove wins—"the best looking man in the audience!" The game is over but many of the players have joined the group sitting on the stand, making a lively back drop for the performers. Now Slim Nanny is singing "Rosy" to the sturdy and somewhat monotonous accompaniment of his band. It's a combination wail and yodel—a "lonesome" plaintive melody. After a pause to discuss the tobacco market, the show went on. �The Picnics 391 Alex Houston, the little ventriloquist, is now about to appear—[This talented boy with his talking dolls, Elmer and Katy, was a regular picnic performer for several years] . . . He is a frail creature looking scarcely more man ten though I believe he is actually twelve. He has a new line that is very snappy and delights the crowd. Elmer is more convincing than ever and Alex seems even more extraordinary . . . Katy sings a duet with Elmer in a high soprano . . . Elmer whistles like many wild birds and does a little puppy dog that brings down the house. Now, "Mr. McClure" is about to give a little talk on the poultry program— inheritance, livability, etc.—a slight tendency to walk out—Suddenly from behind the scenes emerges . . . the finest rooster and hen you ever did see ... [Frank Reed and Bob Brown] The hen lays an egg-ostrich size—yells of delight—the few who walked out are hurrying back . . . "Look at what big eggs and then think about the Farmers Federation baby chicks." . . . I am still agog myself over the costumes. Some genius in Asheville made them. They would do justice to the Russian Coq d'Or—immensely effective and realistic and hugely decorative . .. "This kind of hen will make money for you." .. . The Harmony Trio is now up—Then a talk about a big turkey program that the Fed is going to launch next year . .. "The next number will be Miss Neil Anne Allen of Canton who will do an acrobatic act"—a pretty little slim thing—tall—incredibly lanky—immensely graceful, is now performing in the most startling .. . manner—"fish flops"— somersaults and unbelievable bends and gyrations. The crowd is goggle eyed with surprise and amazement—Never have they seen anything like thisl . . . It's a lovely day—the mists have all risen and its cool and delicious— Time now to close the morning session and get to the business of watermelons and lemonade. Many Indians on hand standing around in little knots. The strange [white] preacher to the Indians—"Mr. Smith," is on hand, looking more of an anomaly than ever. One Indian woman has a huge fat baby strapped on her back, papoose fashion—The lemonade boys are very smart and efficient this year . . . Betty Jean and I sliced tomatoes and made sandwiches under the big trees at our usual stand and fed dozens of little grabbing boys who looked half starved and would have eaten joyfully pieces of blotting paper if we had buttered it. . . . In front of me is an Indian family—an old Indian in a very clean white shirt and his old wife in a snappy black and white print—a great contrast to the other old Cherokees who all have bright red and yellow turbans around their heads, vivid blue and orange scarves and a gaiety of prints . .. Jim McClure made a point of recognizing anyone present from the armed forces at the picnics during World War n, and there were usually some account of the war from an officer or two, and some patriotic songs included in the program. At Bryson City the singing contests had their own special quality, according to Elizabeth's account. Now for the choir contest— Echota and Rock Hill—with no piano—A group of eight Indians—The Rock Hill Choir, singing a strange mournful melody—almost a chant with �392 We Plow God's Fields Corbert Reed as the Rooster, Frank Reed as the Hen, Clay County Picnic, Hayesville, N.C., July 11, 1947. queer minors and a background of repetitive singing that is a little like the music in the Russian Church. Very restrained and all in Cherokee—beautiful. Now they are doing another one, faster and very rhythmic—the voices are softer and fuller than the white chorus—with a fine depth and resonance in the bases and a very pleasing balance and unity of effect. Now for the Echota Choir—four Indian [men] and two old Cherokee women. A long drawn out, solemn cadence with great stressing of the harmonies and a lot of almost antiphonal singing. Very dignified and impressive— Lots of minors—and really beautiful harmonies—unexpected and surprising— Another song in exactly the same key—more antiphonal singing—a lovely background of harmony that has almost an organ quality. I don't see how the judges will ever decide! Now the Cold Spring Choir led by Elspie's friend "Mr. Smiley." (Uncle Jim at this point has suddenly decided that a well known agricultural expert should be recognized.) This expert is now somewhat hurriedly making his little talk with a nervous eye on the advancing choir and on the audience that is weighing a speech against their yearning to listen to the singers. . . . Another quartette—Soco Valley—No piano, which makes it so much more effective—Rather slow impressive harmonies and a nice tenor who is the leader . . . These people are good,—all Indians except for the strange preacher Smith who is part Cherokee anyway. Soco Valley wins the prize for the "best quartette.."..A burst of good congregational singing, "Farther Along" and "When the Roll is Called up Yonder"—Then a startling change in tempo as the young acrobat comes on [again] she leaps and plunges and twists in serpentine gyrations—a bent whalebone could not be more pliable. She looks just like �The Picnics 393 an animated long legged rag doll— the kind that debutantes used to twist around bed posts . . . Shrieks, cat-calls, yells— particularly from the masculine element. The afternoon program always ended with "the contests"—for the largest family present, the most recently married couple and the couple married longest, and at the end, the bald-headed contest. Sometimes a man would attend several picnics to win this coveted honor. Mr. Roberts is calling for the youngest married couple—so far no responses to his pleas which have been unavailing— "Evidently, people around Bryson just don't get married." Finally a pair married three years have been discovered. Now for the oldest married—a neat, tidy little pair, married forty years, have come forward. The old gentleman at the mike says he hopes he "will live to see another picnic." A family of eleven is now approaching the stage. Mr. Roberts is proposing that they all sing a song—(one boy is in the service making twelve)—Bob is about to take their photographs—The three girls are embarking on "Don't You Cry Over Me"—This dreary ditty for some reason brought down the house— another one about "Remember I Died for the Red, White and Blue." The girls have piercing voices—"Keep your chin up and be brave for me, little darling"— More whistles and howls of pleasure—Wow-w! Frank is announcing that "Echota Choir" is first, "Coldspring" next, and "Rock Hill" last. Truck drivers are counting their loads [of people]. One man brought eighty-five—oh boy! Another truck carried seventy-two. The bald headed contest is on—The judges will decide by the fervor of the clapping as to who wins. Elspie's friend Mr. Smiley is up—he seems to have plenty of admirers as the racket is prodigious. Other contestants in order—so far, Mr. John Breedlove seems to draw forth the most blood curdling yells— but even more deafening is the roar that greets [a] Mr. Marr who brought the largest truck load—A tie between Mr. Marr and Mr. B.— the clapping and shouting is terrific; Times Square on election night could not possibly equal the din for Mr. B.— forty seconds of uproar. Mr. Marr steps up—his supporters out do themselves—the testimonial to Mr. B. fades to nothing in comparison—I only fear that it will quicken the sluggish Cherokee blood and produce the hidden tomahawk! Mr. Man* wins!! And the 1945 Bryson County picnic is over. Well, my pets, if you have gone this far with me I congratulate you—I don't think you can read a word but I really had to "step on it" as things move fast here. ... I forgot to say that many Indians asked for Elspie and sent messages of greeting. Elspeth and her father had worked up a "fox chase" act, managing between them to sound like a pack of hounds and a little yipping Feist dog. The Indians particularly liked this number and a man asked Jim once, "When your daughter bark?" After the Bryson City picnic the troupe moved even further west for more �Top: Truck leaving the Haywood County Picnic. Bottom: Elspeth and Jim McClure performing their "fox chase" act. �The Picnics 395 picnics, spending the night in Murphy, county seat of Cherokee County. In 1942, when Elizabeth was writing to Jamie, there was a tornado in Murphy just before they arrived. Two cars had been demolished, the electric power was out and picnic director, Max Roberts' hat blew away just as they stepped out into the street. She wrote, Nothing daunted, the Federation "Talent" gathered in the living room of our small lodging house and sang, played and danced until all hours to huge pleasure of the landlord. All done by the light of one feeble and expiring lamp! Next morning we were off again to Hayesville . . . where a crowd of some four or five hundred gathered. The great event of the day was the group of little girls—nine sisters from 21 years to 18 months—the "Martin sisters," who appeared all dressed alike, all pretty and all more or less the same size except for the baby who was carried by the oldest sister and who was as good as gold and dressed just like all the rest in cute little flowered organdy dresses with black velvet ribbons. The mother had died of pneumonia last winter and the father was in attendance to chaperone his crowd, in addition carrying one very, very small baby brother and shepherding another about 4 years old! Eleven children! It was spectacular though I am mindful of the man with 24 at the Burnsville picnic who knew he had "2 sons in the Navy" but didn't know how many "might be in the Army." And the nonchalant old boy who said to Daddy "T'ain't no surprise to have 24 children, I done got 22 myself." (Now how's that!) Daddy made a special plea to have the Martin sisters come to the Franklin picnic next week but Mr. Martin was a little doubtful. "I ain't sure as I can be there," he said, "Seems like they cain't make it iffen I cain't be there to fight the young 'uns (by this he meant the two small boys, who definitely had to be beaten down at intervals). Mr. Martin didn't seem to regard himself as unduly burdened with responsibility. He just coped with what came along as best he might! We had dinner at Dillsboro at the hotel there and were much entertained by mine host who had a huge red nose and was a character out of Dickens. We ate enormously—wonderful ham and other delicious country tit-bits. Home by midnight and never did bed seem more desirable. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, 1942) As a true artist Elizabeth had a deep appreciation for the picnics. Every year new performers would turn up and some you had hoped to see again would have disappeared. One of the greatest entertainers at the picnics was "Pan Handle Pete," who first appeared several years after Elizabeth's death. A big man, with a broad red face, he stomped into a picnic one day with an enormous drum strapped on his back, a pair of cymbals lashed to his ankles, his guitar hanging around his neck, and a harmonica somehow wired in place. Altogether he carried seventeen different instruments, including a horn form a Model T Ford, and he was singing "The Chew Tobacco Rag," with appropriate spitting noises. The audience went wild and they continued to go wild as long as Howard Nash appeared. �396 We Plow God's Fields Panhandle Pete (Howard Nash). He was a natural clown as well as a gifted musician and his fierce exterior covered a gentle heart. With his side kick Steve Ledford, an old time mountain fiddler from Little Rock Creek on the side of Roan Mountain, he would spellbind the crowd with "The Audience Song." "I see a lady a sittin' by the aisle—" He and Steve would stop playing and peer into the crowd. Then Pan Handle would leap from the stage and walk around staring at first one lady and then another. "I see a lady a sittin' by the aisle—" Many giggles and much blushing. Finally he would sit down beside the chosen woman, always of mature years and solid figure. �The Picnics 397 "If she'll stick around I'll see her after awhile. There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight!" The next verse might be "I see a lady, her teeth so pretty and white—" Loud laughter from Pan Handle and Steve. "Just like the stars, they come out every night. We'll have a hot time in the old town tonight!" Shrieks erupted from the audience! To focus attention on the poultry program he, Pan Handle, would lurk about in the rear of the auditorium in the policeman's uniform until everyone was looking uneasily over their shoulders, then rush toward the stage to arrest the innocent Gaither Robinson in mid banjo chord, and triumphantly drag him off as a "chicken thief." Corny stuff perhaps, but it was real audience participation and brought joy to people whose days were filled with toil. Pan Handle's humor, like that of all true comedians, was always kindly. Jim would announce a fiddling contest. Pan Handle and Steve would leap forward, each claiming to be the best. Each tried to out do the other's tricks until at the end Pan Handle was half lying on the stage, playing his enormous "bull fiddle" under his back. When he was acclaimed the winner amidst the shouts of the crowd, Steve would protest angrily that the prize should have been his and a fight would erupt. Steve would get hold of Pete's shirt and start to pull, and pull and pull until the shirt extended right across the stage, like a banner, with Farmers Federation emblazoned in large letters. The entire picnic program, over all the years, had the charm of the unexpected, both for those who watched and those who ran the show. You never knew what might turn up. There was the cowboy whose rope tricks sometimes failed, but still left little boy's eyes popping. A bag piper was so foreign to our mountains that a Federation director at Franklin called for another number on "that Italian instrument." And there were countless others. What was it that made the day special? The joy of the music, of old friends meeting over the watermelons and lemonade at the noon hour, of singing "The Old Rugged Cross" together in the packed auditorium after lunch, of thumping your feet to the strains of Pan Handle Pete's One Man Band? Whatever it was, the appeal was universal,for the program seemed to be as much of a hit at the Waldorf Astoria in New York as in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Thomas J. Watson, founder of the IBM Corporation, was much interested in Jim McClure's work and sponsored Federation picnics at the Waldorf. Picnic troupers went north for several of these occasions. Sam Queen and his famous Maggie Valley square dance team, the Federation String Band, Pan Handle Pete, Herman Jones from Sylva, singing "I'm on the Battlefield for My Lord" at the top of his voice. Jamie McClure sang at the first New York picnic. He came down from Yale to sing "John Henry," the ballad of the old steel driving man, in the old mountain way his mother loved to hear. One year Betty Huntley sang "Silver Haired Daddy of Mine" in honor of Jack Bierworth, President of National Distillers, who was a staunch supporter of the Federation. �398 We Plow God's Fields Jim McClure was a master at reading the mood of an audience and adjusting the program accordingly. He also had the trouper's conviction that the show must go on. He told Jamie Clarke that just before the first picnic at the Waldorf he lost his voice completely. He went into a small room and sat quietly for ten minutes, and it came back in time to start the program. Jamie Clarke helped Jim run the North Carolina picnics for ten years after World War n. As his family grew he even began to win the prize for largest family present occasionally. Jim got a great kick out of having his grandchildren attend picnics. Once he stepped outside the Columbus Courthouse, where the Polk County picnic was always held, to get a breath of fresh air and was surprised to see a toddler tied by a long string to a tree. He took a close look to see if the little fellow was all right, and found it was his own grandson (and namesake) Jim! He was a very active crawler and his mother had secured him temporarily while doing some errand. Because Jamie Clarke was familiar with the picnics he was able to carry right on after Jim died in 1956, continuing as long as he was with the Federation. These gatherings brought together the finest elements of the Appalachian tradition in order to promote the progressive development of the region. But no matter how they were justified, the picnics were about as much fun as people are allowed to have in this world, and entertained an entire generation in an age when recreation was scarce. �Chapter Nineteen The War Years When the Farmers Federation was born in 1920, the neighbors said he was a weak child and couldn't be raised. But the child has grown by leaps and bounds. He has now grown to be a real giant embracing twenty counties of Western North Carolina, waving his magic wand . . . influencing, for good, the economic, political, moral and religious thinking of the best people on earth, who grace the hill-tops and valleys of the God favored country of ours. (John Henry Biggs of Mill Springs, N.C., quoted in Farmers Federation News, August, 1943, p. 5) This terrible war reaches its fingers right into our hearts. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, May 1, 1943) What fascinated Jim McClure about war was its power to change people. Here was an enterprise that could draw together whole nations of individuals into a spirit of common purpose to risk everything for abstract loyalties and beliefs. Vast amounts of untapped human energy would be brought to bear against the common foe, and men and women stood willing to sacrifice for a cause much larger than themselves. And yet all of these energies of war were marshalled with the intent to kill and destroy, to demolish the basis of the enemy's civilization. The spiritual fruits of war demoralized whole generations of people. It was all too easy to be corrupted by army life, and all too difficult to respect life after one had grown bored with death. For Jim, the question was always the same. What was the source of this power of war to redirect and motivate people? Why could not the compassionate and constructive potential of Christianity draw out the same dedication and persistence in men, to build rather than destroy? There had been moments in the history of the church when this force gathered strength. It was the potential for the power of God, unleashed in the world, that had originally drawn Jim into the ministry; and the search for its motive force that moved him through the struggles of his life. In 1920 Jim McClure had declared war not only on poverty, but also on apathy, hopelessness, poor education, weak churches, and deficient stewardship of the land. He thrived on a sense of purpose. He wanted to lead men and women on toward a promised land, to infuse their lives with a sense of intention that brought out in them efforts and satisfactions that would surpass any material gain that might have been won along the way. The Farmers Federation promoted change, progress, and purpose as an approach to living. It opposed lifeless 399 �400 We Plow God's Fields routine, habits of superstition, and spiritual death. Although the means toward the end were in the realm of the material—fertilizer applications, corn clubs, erosion control, sweet potato yields and so on—what Jim McClure was working towards was the spiritual regeneration of a demoralized region of Appalachia. For him, the fruits of the spirit were measured, not just by the fervor of Sunday worship, but by the sense of self-esteem felt by the farmer and his wife as they sat together on their front porch after a week of hard work. Jim wanted each family in the mountains to sense that a better future was possible, and to motivate them to self-sacrifice in order to pursue that hope for their community. He understood that the basis of the American democratic faith rested with the morale of each of these families, and that this faith in the political and economic ideals of the nation were sorely tested during the Depression. Franklin Roosevelt's political gifts enabled him to prop up this faith, but it was not until militant fascism began to march across Europe and Asia that the American spirit escaped from the doldrums of self-doubt and launched a war machine that surpassed any other in the history of man. The war stimulated a sluggish economy as well, and set in motion forces that would transform Western North Carolina. The Second World War, much more than its predecessor, drew out of the mountain cove, and hollows young soldiers who would meet people and see places that would change their view of the world. Thrown in barracks and ships with blue-collar workers of the North, Califormans, prosperous farm boys of the Midwest and their brethren from across the South, these mountaineers would return home, if in fact they did return, much different people than when they left. These were the same men that Jim McClure had been grooming to reignite American democratic faith. He had kept his eye on the large population bulge that had been growing up in the mountains and had designed the Lord's Acre primarily for the benefit of these young people. He had strengthened their schools, and spoken at their graduations. Now they were sent out to become a part of the American war machine, and Jim McClure knew that many of them would exhibit the same strength of character as the great mountain hero of World War I, Sergeant York. Long before Pearl Harbor, the European war began to stimulate the economy of the United States, especially the agricultural markets. The Farmers Federation felt the push of new prosperity after 1938. Beginning in 1939, the number of dollars that passed through the organization expanded rapidly. The figures speak for themselves: Year 1939 1940 1941 Dollar Volume: Federation Business Volume* $1,077,991.58 1,261,506.26 1,501.858.52 �The War Years 1942 1943 1944 1945 401 1,940,306.33 303958 ,6,5.6 3,588,137.04 3,967,641.08 (These figures do not include the hatchery operation and the tobacco warehouse receipts, both of which were managed by the Federation.) When the government began ordering food for the troops, the Federation was in an ideal position to benefit. Its marketing operation had become efficient and its department heads were trusted. The New Deal administration was sympathetic with cooperatives in general, and the Federation in particular. The farmer was in a position to plant and harvest all he could grow, and to find a good market for nearly everything. Army life even helped to stimulate the cigarette industry, increasing the demand for burley tobacco. By 1945, the Federation had built a new tobacco warehouse, complete with special lights to show the leaf to its best advantage. The shady practices endemic to this market made the dependability of the Federation operation all the more appreciated by growers. The expansive financial outlook encouraged Jim and the other directors to try out several innovations during these years. Genetics had always been one of Jim's favorite farm subjects, and so the program to build up the quality of the local mule and horse population continued. Walter Jeffords of Philadelphia, a contributor to the Fund, sent down Warcraft, son of the racehorse, Man O'War, from his own farm. This fine stallion joined the Percherons and jacks already employed to service the mares of Western North Carolina. The cross of a thoroughbred with an ordinary mare often produces a work animal of size and stamina. But after the war, horses and mules would give way to tractors, and Jim was studying other projects for the Fund that would have a more lasting impact. One of these, artificial insemination of dairy cows, would have to wait until after the war. Another was the sexing of baby chicks. This practice, too, was affected by the coming of war. Male and female chicks look just alike for the first weeks of life to the untrained eye, so a farmer who purchased day old chicks could expect roughly half of them to be roosters, to be sold as broilers, and half to be pullets, to be raised for egg production. But the Japanese had developed the ability to identify male and female birds as soon as they were hatched. This skill was a great advantage for the poultryman, as he could concentrate on the kind of production he chose. When war came between Japan and the United States, Japanese chick-sexers went home. But Jack Gattis, hatchery manager, announced in the Federation News that he had American experts who had learned to perform this complex job and there was a good supply of sexed chicks ready for sale. The war created other scarcities Jim tried to turn into opportunities for Western North Carolina. He even promoted the cultivation of silk worms, an �402 We Plow God's Fields idea that failed to appeal to the mountaineer. Mica and feldspar, two locally abundant minerals, were used extensively in the war industries, and Jim asked farmers to bring samples to the picnics to be inspected by experts. One unusual shortage that had little to do with the war effort sent mountain folk out into the woods looking for old and gnarled mountain laurel bushes. It was announced in the Federation News: "A plant to manufacture pipe blocks is being started by the Farmers Federation in the cannery building at Hendersonville. Nearly the entire supply of briar, which was formerly imported from Europe, has been cut off; and pipe manufacturers find that the close grained mountain laurel is the best substitute available.1 Before Jim realized what was happening he was in trouble with many of his wife's garden club friends. Staunch conservationists that they were, they were horrified at the prospect of thousands of large laurel shrubs being uprooted to support a questionable habit. Criticism began to pour in, and he set out to answer the accusations in the following issue of the News. Only in rare instances, he explained, a lumpy growth called a burl is caused by disease on the root of a laurel bush. Such shrubs are usually found in remote, boggy places, and when roots bearing burls are removed, fresh growth quickly springs up. Federation horticulturists had studied the matter thoroughly and felt that the beauty of the mountains would not be affected if the burls were secured under supervision . . . and there is the opportunity to bring in income that will be a blessing to many mountain families."2 The pipe block enterprise was a part of the Federation's effort to bring small industries into Western North Carolina. For the eighteen months of its existence, ninety people drew wages there. Jim wisely thought that such industries would offer employment to one or two members of a farm family, which would supplement the small income from mountain farming and enable the family to continue living and working on their place. He explained, in the News some of the specific enterprises the Federation had implemented. The great objective of the Farmers Federation is to develop facilities and services that will enable the farm people of Western North Carolina to increase their own incomes and in this way build a finer civilization. Part of our program is to encourage and develop small industries. The Farmers Federation will be glad to work with individuals or groups in any county toward this end. We have a dream of helping to establish one or two small industries in every township in Western North Carolina. The Fanners Federation has an active interest in the Biltmore Company, the Appalachian Textile Company, the Swannanoa Textile Company, the Treasure Chest Mutual, Inc., and die Fanners Federation Handicraft Mutual, Inc. This last is a cooperative of knitters. All these enterprises are creating new wealth in Western North Carolina. We trust that our members and committees will keep constantly working toward the end of creating more wealth in this section.3 �The War Years 403 The war had reverse effect on one project. The Hendersonville Cannery, the first Federation small industry, suspended operations because the demand for fresh produce left no need to preserve a surplus. As the Federation expanded, the Lord's Acre was keeping pace. By the fifteenth anniversary of the plan, Rev. Dumont Clarke was making tours throughout the United States and Canada promoting the idea. He often spoke on radio programs and in 1941 enjoyed a big promotional windfall, which he described in his regular column in the News: "Wide publicity, entirely prepared by publishers interested in constructive activities of our time, has been given the Lord's Acre Movement," he wrote. "The April issue of Christian Herald, which is read largely by church members, carried an illustrated article ... entitled 'Harvesting the Lord's Acre.' This was reprinted in the "Readers Digest" with its 4,100,000 circulation."4 From Dumont Clarke's office in Asheville, all sorts of Lord's Acre packets, buttons and pamphlets were mailed across North America and various foreign mission groups. For a congregation with a persistent pastor and lively members, the Lord's Acre Plan brought in both material and spiritual fruits. Of all the churches who were helped by the program, the Dana Baptist Church of Henderson County became the standard by which all other programs were judged. The Lord's Acre program of Dana Baptist Church for 1940 was brought to a close with a remarkable total of $2,071 in hand. The largest single item was $553.75 from the group potato project. A second large item was $117 from an apple project. There were many individual projects, and the total includes gifts of labor on the new parsonage and some cash donations. In four years time the Lord's Acre program of the Dana Church has yielded $8,000. A beautiful brick veneer church has been erected and a parsonage adjoining the church is nearly complete .. . The Lord's Acre plan has made it possible for a comparatively small congregation to achieve really great things. The members of the church and Sunday School have been engaged almost 100 per cent, year after year, in substantial Lord's Acre projects. This has developed a very strong spirit of cooperation and has made possible results which otherwise could not have been attained.5 The Federation picnics also created cooperation and a positive spirit. Attendance kept growing, and although the purpose was education, the results were spectacularly entertaining. Perhaps people needed the picnics more than ever during these tragic and serious times. As always the program was dominated by Jim McClure's canny showmanship. During the war he used these great gatherings to sell war bonds and stamps. Jamie McClure, Jamie Clarke and Elspeth all pitched in to help out. In 1941, after graduating from Yale, Jamie McClure wrote to his Aunt Harriet Stuart that he had made lemonade and cut watermelons " . . . for crowds that have ranged from 800 to 2500 . . . you never know just what sort of 'musicianers' or other forms of entertainment are likely to turn up, and the way Daddy runs his meetings make them the big event of the �404 We Plow God's Fields year to most of the people who attend" (Jamie McClure to Harriet Stuart, July 23, 1940). Jamie looked forward to the time when he could work with his father in the Federation. While at Yale he had investigated the theory of cooperatives and for a senior paper wrote a description of his father's work, entitled "Frontier Civilization in the Blue Ridge Highlands." The conclusion echoed Jim McClure's thoughts: "The most effective way of helping these people toward a higher level of income is to give them a means of working out their own economic salvation. The practical possibilities of this approach are already being demonstrated in Western North Carolina, and it is my firm belief that with careful long range planning the co-operative exploitation of mountain farming holds promise of a new future for the Southern Highlander."6 Another of Jamie's Yale papers traced the history of cooperatives, going back to the origins with the Rochdale Pioneers in England. He wrote, "Thus from a dingy basement hole-in-the-wall sprang the English Consumer Cooperatives, the largest single business in the British Isles."7 After working his way through Yale in the Student Pressing Agency, which he managed his senior year, Jamie went with the Yale Glee Club on a tour of South America. Elizabeth sold the pearls the Skinner Aunts had left her to help finance the trip. He returned to Hickory Nut Gap, only to set out on a hitchhiking adventure to California and back. After years of school the freedom of the open road felt wonderful. In the fall he started work in the tobacco warehouse. The Federation had been assigned to administer the government's price support program and a majority of farmers selling tobacco on the Asheville market had to contribute a dollar to the program. Jamie McClure and his cousin Jamie Clarke were assigned the task of signing up farmers. It was a tough job to locate and make friends with a man, then persuade him to part with a dollar in the cold and confused atmosphere of a tobacco warehouse. But the boys succeeded. Jamie Clarke, Dumont's son, had been as impressed as his cousin with his Uncle Jim's work in the Farmers Federation. Jim McClure began to train both young men for eventual leadership in the organization. These two cousins and friends, raised in the atmosphere of Christian service, stood ready to carry on the McClure tradition of a life of usefulness. Neither sought to become ministers as their fathers had done, but both of them nonetheless were willing to devote themselves to a lifework that pursued the larger vision of brotherhood. Jamie Clarke graduated from Princeton in 1939, two years before his cousin finished at Yale. He, too, had worked hard, as chairman of the Daily Princetonian, and he went off for a well-earned trip to Europe with his roommate Fred Fox, who would become an influential Presbyterian minister. It was the eve of war, August 1939, and they were lucky to get safely back across the Atlantic on the Athenia. Her sister ship was sunk by a German submarine. Early in 1940 he went to work at the Hendersonville Federation warehouse, relinquishing the glories of college leadership and accepting his new lot as a store clerk. His uncle Jim wanted him to learn the business of the Federation from inside out, and put �The War Years 405 him under the charge of Bill Francis at one of the biggest volume warehouses in the Federation system. He later joined the Navy, and had time to write down some of his experiences on the job, creating a vivid picture of the daily pace of a Federation warehouse. The first day I went to work an old employee named Cecil Jones and I were sent to deliver a new power sprayer to a hardbitten old landowner, "Old Man Hill" of Edneyville. liie sprayer was heavy, and we had a good deal of trouble unloading it. I wasn't being of much use, which was brought home sharply when Old Man Hill said, "You've never done any work before. You must have been raised in the city." The work really got tough after the first week. Spring planting season was upon us, and carload after carload of fertilizer rolled in to be unloaded at our storage warehouse across the tracks. Fertilizer is packed in 200-pound bags, which are difficult for one man to lift by himself. My chief fellow worker was a 225-pound Carolina boy, Lloyd Rhodes. He had been working at this job for a year and was a powerful chap. The procedure was to roll our two-wheeled warehouse truck into the box car and then each man would pick up one end of a bag and we would load it on the truck . . . Most people wheeled only four bags, but Lloyd always wanted to take five, which made 1,000 pounds. This was a heavy load for one man to wheel on that type of truck and at first I had a hard time. Bridging the gap between the boxcar and the unloading platform was a heavy fiat piece of steel which served as a sort of gangway. The second time I tried to wheel 1,000 pounds of fertilizer over the flat plate 1 slipped and the truck went skidding out of my hands . . . Seed potatoes were being shipped into our warehouse from Prince Edward Island in Canada . . . I remember one morning having to wheel about 100 of these sacks from a commercial truck . .. there had been a party in Asheville the night before . .. and at 7:30 a.m. my strength had not returned. The trucker was a loud-talking fellow named Jim and with mouth loaded with tobacco. He was in a hurry and was impatient. All of this made for a rough two hours. Bill Francis, the manager, was a dandy storekeeper. He was on the job at 7 a.m. and never left before 7 p.m. He never walked—he always ran. Farmers and fanner's wives from far out in the country appreciated his friendly "Hello, Mrs. Hooper, be with you in a minute." The trust these people had in him sometimes made it hard for us to put through sales. "Where's Bill. I want to talk to Bill," was often asked us. This experience of having to wait on people, humoring them and being friendly no matter how you felt inside was good for me. I believe that it would be helpful to thousands of our college boys and girls who tend to get the idea that the world should wait on them. After going through it you begin to understand the feelings of the other man behind the counter and become more considerate of him. Charley Drake, a ... colored man of remarkable sense who used to clean up the warehouse for us, admired Bill Francis' skill in dealing with people. He once told Lloyd Rhodes and me that "Mr. Francis he'll sell it to them whether he's got it or not." �406 We Plow God's Fields Family bringing chickens to sell at a Federation Warehouse. North Carolina is a hay importing state. Our Federation warehouse at Hendersonville handled ten or 15 [raikoad] cars of hay a year. The bales weighed between 40 and 60 Ibs. and were usually handled by sharp hay hooks. One afternoon when Charlie Drake and I were piling the bales up high in a dark part of the storage warehouse, my hook missed the bale and went through the loose skin underneath Charley's chin. "You nearly got me that time, Mr. Jimmie," he said good humoredly. It bled rather badly and worried me ... An old, old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard, used to come in every week or two from Jumpoff Mountain on a sled pulled by steers . . . We had a mill next to the Hendersonville warehouse. Farmers brought in their corn on Saturday morning and left it at the mill to be ground up. The miller would take out one-seventh of the resulting corn meal as our "toll." Big Rob, the assistant miller, surprised me one day by telling me that his stomach had been cold for the past 20 years! He let me feel it and sure enough, it was really cold. He attributed it to a case of double pneumonia he had had without, apparently, being able to get to a doctor . . . The first big rush at Hendersonville came at Irish potato planting time. Then there was a short lull, followed by heavy activity as the corn planting time drew on. I never expect to be with a harder working group of men. In three months we unloaded 35 cars of fertilizer alone, which is over two million pounds . . . I sold some nails to a gentleman from way back in the hills and as I was wrapping them he said "You'd better double-poke them, son." �The War Years 407 What he wanted was a real mystery until he came behind the counter himself and carefully took two paper bags and placed one inside the other . . . We had our fun at the warehouse every day. Boys of the age of Troy Downs, the bookkeeper, Lloyd Rhodes and myself, would call into us as they went by, "Farmers Ruination." Lloyd was easily perturbed, and Troy and I used to make out charge tickets for him for things he had never bought. Bill Francis would collaborate in this and tell Lloyd he must hurry and pay up. Lloyd retaliated by always picking his end of the fertilizer sack up first. This makes it much harder for the man on the other end than if both ends came up simultaneously. When pretty country girls came in to sell their eggs, Troy used to count them out one by one taking as long as possible. The girls loved it. Troy was a very good looking boy anyway. One of the girls at the Fassifern School in Hendersonville used to escape at night, jump the fence and go to the movies or to one of Hendersonville's numerous dances with him.8 Jamie Clarke remembers his time at the Hendersonville warehouse as a chance not only to learn the Federation business, but also to learn about and appreciate his fellow workers and the patrons of the cooperative. Later, as the editor of the Federation News, he learned more about the art of salesmanship from the Federation's star feed salesman, Blake Greenwood of Leicester. In order to meet Federation customers and get pictures of their farms and livestock, he would occasionally spend a day traveling with Blake in his yellow truck. Blake taught Jamie that you never went directly into your sales pitch. First he would greet his prospective customer cheerfully, spend time talking about his particular concerns, admire everything on his farm and eat anything that was offered to him. Only then would he get out his pad and pencil to take down the order, which never failed to come through. One day they stopped to see Blake's Aunt Lily, on her farm up on Big Ivy. The water system was out of order, but she asked them to dinner and Blake, knowing there was no water to be had, urged Jamie to "try some of those fine peppers." These were red hot peppers, which Jamie had never seen. Blake kept watching him but his pupil kept right on eating politely and praising the food. He didn't get cooled off until they stopped at a spring!9 Blake really entered into the lives of his customers. Once he stopped to see Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Shepherd, who had a dairy at Democrat. Mr. Shepherd had the flu. He had come up to the house after milking without cleaning the barn and he told Blake he had felt too bad to clean it the night before as well. As Blake stepped onto the porch he saw the dairy inspector, Miss Chick, who was one of the first woman inspectors and very tough, driving into the barnyard. He rushed back in the house and told Mr. Shepherd to jump into the bed quick and pull the sheets up over his clothes. Then Blake talked to Miss Chick. The little lady was persuaded to overlook the sick dairyman's dirty barn since he was so sick; but Mrs. Shepherd never forgave Blake Greenwood for the manure �408 We Plow God's Fields from Mr. Shepherd's boots on her clean sheets. It was people like Blake who made the difference in developing business.10 By 1940, the Farmers Federation was successfully entering its third decade, primarily as the result of Jim's persistence and idealism. As new honors and recognition came to him he liked to think that these honors helped to certify in the minds of potential supporters that the work was worthy of their interest. In 1941, he received an honorary master of arts degree from his college rival, Harvard University. He was still able to wear his wedding morning coat, and the porter asked him as he stepped off the train if he was going to be married! The following June, the University of North Carolina invited him to Chapel Hill for a similar honor. He found that the solemn event could become the highest entertainment when the vagaries of nature gave his afternoon of honor the drama of uncertainty. He wrote to his son Jamie: This finds Mummie, Elspie and me in a crowded day coach on a hot ride back to the mountains . . . All the graduating class, their girls, their mothers, and a large sprinkling of army and navy boys made a simultaneous rush for the two coaches as they came into the station—Elspie & Mummie with their famous ability somehow snared a seat and here we sit surrounded by mounds of baggage. We had a big day yesterday—We first were taken [on] a tour of the University, then we attended the Alumni Luncheon which was a huge affair and most interesting. A state University (or maybe it is just North Carolina) has a sense of mission or responsibility for the state that is missing at many private institutions . . . Mummie was a knock out & Elspie was in great form . . . We all went to President [Frank] Graham's for an early supper & thence to commencement which was in the stadium. The stadium is a sunken bowl with trees and woods all around it, and a beautiful place— Clouds were gathering and growing bigger & blacker as the exercises began—the college & post graduate degrees are given out individually—and it takes hours for the 800 or 900 to file by, have their names read & get their sheepskin & Bible. They are all given a $3.00 Bible! Well as they kept filing by, it got more threatening, and then drops began to fall. The result was that by the time the Honorary degrees came along, it was a soggy downpour,—and so as the last act on the program, the five Honorary Degrees were conferred in almost a deluge-Mummy & Elspie stuck it out to the end & were soaked— . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Jamie McClure, June 10, 1942) Two years later, in 1944, the National Institute of Social Sciences awarded him their gold medal. "Siddy and I are going to New York to attend the dinner which I told you about of the National Institute of Social Sciences," he wrote to the Stuarts. "The other recipients are Bernard Baruch and Mrs. Henry P. Davison. It is a huge pleasure for me to be there at the same time as Mrs. Davison because she has been such a tower of strength in our whole enterprise" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, sometime in 1944). In receiving the award, Jim spoke of his own life, the work of the Federation, and his thoughts �The War Years 409 about the importance of providing opportunities for the low-income citizens within a democracy. Mr. Chester, Mr. Hall, Members and Guests of the National Institute of Social Sciences. I am quite overwhelmed, and just about rendered speechless by the presentation of this medal. What I have done in the Appalachian Mountains has been made possible by those who have supported our educational fund and by the people in the mountains who have enthusiastically supported our cooperative movement. This award is a very great honor, and I accept it with gratitude and much humility, as I do not at all feel that I deserve it. I am, however, particularly happy to have the type of work in which I am engaged recognized in this outstanding way. It is, in a way, a new approach to one of the basic problems of Democracy. . . . Some 25 years ago, because of overwork, the doctors advised me to get out of doors for a few months. We took this opportunity to locate a spot that might become a permanent vacation headquarters. We bought a farm in a gap of the Blue Ridge Mountains near Asheville, N. C. The countryside is beautiful and as we were fixing up the farm, we got acquainted with the people. One man on the farm was a lineal descendent of Daniel Boone. The people sang the oldest of English ballads, used Elizabethan and even Chaucerian English, and had the characteristics that enabled the pioneers to conquer the wilderness; resourcefulness, independence and humor, and they also had the qualities which have created liberty and freedom, the consciousness of a power above and outside themselves and a reverence for individual human personality . . . The idea with which we started our enterprise was a very simple one. The idea was to try to create markets for the things the people could raise so that they could increase their income by their own efforts. Our idea was to enable the people in the mountains to create wealth. In other words we acted on the theory mat if a good market was available the people would respond by greatly increasing their production. To create such markets was a rather slow and laborious procedure and I can best illustrate it by the difficulties encountered in the development of a poultry industry . . . The mountain country is ideally adapted to the growing of poultry and if every mountain farm could have a flock of a 100 hens it would tremendously increase the income of the region. When we started out there was practically no poultry production in the mountains. The poultry population averaged 12 or 15 chickens per farm. There was no market for poultry. We had the idea that if [we] should create a market the people would respond by greatly increasing poultry production, so we started operating live poultry cars stopping at each point in the mountains and paying cash at the car door and then running these poultry cars up to the great markets in New York and Philadelphia. In other words we created a cash market for poultry every day in the year. After operating these poultry cars for some years we discovered that the poultry population was no larger than when we started and that our theories just had not worked. We analyzed the situation and found the difficulty to be that the quality of the poultry in the mountains was so poor that it did not pay to increase that kind of poultry. The average hen in the mountains lays only 60 �410 We Plow God's Fields fc;: IE; Top: Elspeth, Jamie and Elizabeth McClure in front of the porch at Hickory Nut Gap. Bottom: Annual dinner of the National Institute of Social Sciences. Left to right: Bernard Barucht Mrs. Henry P. Davison (early Fund supporter) and James O.K. McClure, Jr. Waldorf-Astoria, New York City, May 1944. �The War Years 411 or 70 eggs a year. This is not enough to pay for her feed, consequently the more hens a man had the poorer he became, so we turned around and started on an entirely different tact. We decided that we must make available and distribute a type of hen that would lay a lot of eggs. We got incubators, we persuaded farmers to have supply flocks for the hatchery and we maintained rigid requirements for these supply flocks. The hens had to be individually blood tested to eliminate inheritable diseases. The chief requirement was that every cockerel must come from a hen with a record of laying 250 eggs a year. That is, the chickens which we distributed would have the inheritance to lay a lot of eggs. It took some time to get this idea accepted—it took a great deal of patient field work first to start and oversee the supply flocks, then it took a great deal of patience, [and] personal field work to persuade individual farmers to venture into establishing a flock of one or two hundred hens, but little by little this has grown. When the great demand for war production of poultry came following Pearl Harbor we were like a runner poised and ready to go ... It seems to me that one of the great problems which we face in our Democracy is the problem of the low income group. In a Democracy we must somehow offer equal opportunity to all ... Neither a dole nor public works solves this problem. The creative way, the American way, is to create the opportunity for these people to help themselves, to somehow develop the productive capacity of the people in the low income group so that they can increase their own earnings by their own efforts. This is the task to which we have set ourselves, translating as well as we can the findings of science, such as genetics in the practical action on the farm, discovering new uses for the products, discovering new outlets for the things people can make and thereby calling forth their own creative efforts. In this way we are trying to develop the capacity and the ability of a people in this low income bracket. . . I cannot close without saying a word here about our Lord's Acre Movement. As we were organizing our cooperative we hoped to develop improved material conditions. We felt however that improved material conditions are not worthwhile unless spiritual improvement comes at the same time. We have seen so many examples of material improvement with no spiritual development and we always find that this material development ends up in a smash so we decided to try to back up the one organization in the mountains which concentrates on Christian character, which has been tough enough to survive, and that is the country church. We organized a Religious Department in our work and we suggest to the churches in the mountains that each member of the church and of the Sunday school have some kind of a project for their own church. A boy or a girl could set a hen and raise chickens, could raise a pig, could raise a calf, a man could set out a patch of potatoes or an acre of corn and we called it the Lord's Acre Movement. The greatest thing we did was to secure Dumont Clarke to head up this Movement. He has worked untiringly . . . It has kept on rolling along until today there are some 2500 churches in the mountains and some 2500 churches outside the mountains using this method to supplement their budget. It has spread to every state in the Union. It has given new life and vitality to country churches everywhere.11 Jim never missed an opportunity to preach his message. Mrs. Davison had listened since 1926 to the McClure gospel of the Farmers Federation, and one only wonders about the thoughts entertained by Bernard Baruch, the world �412 We Plow God's Fields renowned economist, after hearing about poultry production in Western North Carolina. Jim himself was the proud father of his Federation. He had realized a dream of putting his ideas to work, and what he had to show for his quarter century of struggles was an organization that allowed a region's people to hope for a better future. Jim McClure became more and more caught up in the web of his community. His many interests each made demands on his judgement and time. He remained an executive of the American Forestry Association. He was also once again elected to the advisory committee of the Farm Security Administration. He wrote to his son, I was on this Committee when the F.S.A. started, we drew lots for the 1 yr., 2 yrs., and 3 yrs. term and I drew the 1 yr. term, and as members cannot succeed themselves I was out in a year—July 1st my 2 yr. exile was over and I was reappointed, and this A.M.I was elected Chairman of the Committee. I am quite pleased as it gives the Farmers Fed high standing with all the Farm Security people in Western North Carolina—and Farm Security has a supervisor and ass't supervisor in every county about like the county agents. Well, we met all day, and it is very interesting. It is almost like a well trained farm management and financing corporation for the very poorest farmers, and it is putting them, a lot of them, on their feet. James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Jamie McClure, September 4, 1942) Jamie Clarke left the Hendersonville warehouse to become the editor of the Farmers Federation News in 1940. A hard working young man, he wanted to please his uncle by making the most of the News. He ran contests and games to increase reader interest, and made much more use of pictures than any previous editor. Despite an unassuming and quiet nature, young Jamie Clarke made a strong impression on his Uncle. But in December 1941, the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor broke harshly into the lives of all Americans. In February of 1942 Jamie left his desk at the Federation to join the U.S. Navy. Elizabeth wrote to her son, Jamie McClure: Daddy asked Mr. Searle at the Miller Press [which printed the Federation News] how things were going without Jamie Clarke. He answered, " . . . I never saw such a fellow as that Jamie. He always got what he wanted done but in such a way that nobody minded change or criticism on his part if you could call it that . . . Jamie always seemed to keep perfectly relaxed and to make everybody else stay that way. He was always so simple and unassuming and unpretentious about everything he did, that I didn't really half realize what immense things he accomplished." Knowing Jamie, I thought mis would interest you . . . Jamie never came worrying Daddy with anything . . . no fuss or feathers anywhere .. . I really think that Jamie is a natural for politics. I think he has the vote getting quality. He somehow inspires confidence. I believe that after the war if he chooses to continue with the Federation News, he will find it a natural �The War Years 413 take-off for a political career. It might be very useful to the Fed to have Jamie in Washington as Senator Clarke for N.C.!!!! You may think me more or less cracked, but it wouldn't be the first time(!). Jamie has a wonderful human touch. Great intelligence and a liking for human beings just as human beings. All that can easily spell success in politics. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, May 24, 1942) As usual Elizabeth McClure was a sharp judge of a person's possibilities. Many years later Jamie Clarke would serve three terms in the North Carolina Legislature, and then become the U.S. Congressman from the Eleventh Congressional District. Jamie McClure made up his mind to enter the fight after Pearl Harbor. Like his father prior to World War I, Jamie had been anti-war, but the unprovoked Japanese attack changed his feelings and he desperately wanted to join the navy. His love of the ocean and knowledge of naval ships and history made this a natural choice; but he was very near-sighted, like his mother, and he could not pass the military physical examination. The best way for him to contribute to the war effort seemed to be to take a job in an IBM munitions plant. To his surprise he was assigned to a cannon plant in Poughkeepsie, New York, near where his sister and several of his friends, including his current girl, were in college at Vassar. His father had taught him never to complain, never to express envy or disappointment and he wrote jokingly to his Aunt Harriet Stuart: I have had a draft classification of 1-B for some time on account of my eyes, and in spite of excellent connections, it seems absolutely impossible for me to get into either of the armed services in any capacity whatsoever at the present time. However, I did find an opening in a small airplane-cannon plant (through Mr. Watson of the I.B.M. which controls the plant) in which I think I can make use of such practical experience as I have had to greater effect than anything I have yet encountered . .. you'll get a laugh out of the location of the plant—its at Poughkeepsie! I think when some of my friends get wind of my move, I'm going to hear a lot of cracks about war profiteering . .. I hope it works out, as I believe the job is as close as I can get to the shooting without actually using a gun, and perhaps, from a thoroughly impersonal point of view, I can make my training count far more in that position than in uniform. At least we can try to think that as long as they won't let me have a uniform. This current move will not, I hope, have any effect on my plans for keeping on the Federation, but I feel pretty strongly that winning the war is a job that must be cleaned up first. (Jamie McClure to Harriet Stuart, January 10, 1942) Jamie put in long hours, sometimes working an eighty-hour week. Two maiden ladies, Miss Jennie and Miss Elise Kinkead, already Mends of his sister Elspeth, befriended him. They fed Jamie many meals, held birthday parties for him and Elspeth and their friends, and made him feel at home in their beautiful Victorian house above the Hudson River. They also had a dairy farm outside �414 We Plow God's Fields Poughkeepsie and Jamie could go out on Saturdays to pick apples or plow in the spring. But life in a munitions plant, lonely meals in the local diner, and knowing that most young men his age were in military service would often leave him demoralized. When his girl to whom he was so devoted told him she preferred a young Navy lieutenant, dashing in his blue and gold, Jamie sank to a new low. Fortunately he and Elspeth were close friends, and she was nearby to support him as best she could. His mother sensed his need for special support at this time and both she and Jim wrote to him often. Spring had returned again to Hickory Nut Gap. It has been one of these unbelievable days here-a cathedral blue sky—apple blossoms everywhere so that each gust of wind from the orchard carried the most heaven sent fragrance—all the white cherries clouds of white loveliness, violets in rivers of colour everywhere you stepped and the little rock garden just overflowing with blue bells and primroses and white snowdrops . . . Just as we finished supper who should drop in but Ernst Bacon from Spartanburg (who was on the faculty of the music department of Converse College there). He said he needed rest and change and just headed this way so we kept him for the night and were rewarded with Mozart and Chopin and Pappa Haydn while we listened with only candles and firelight. What a genius the man is, and what feeling and imagination he has and what supreme modesty. Absolutely unegotistical and a delightful fellow to talk to on any subject. This afternoon we took cushions and the radio out into the courtyard and sat there in the midst of wisteria and purple violets and fluttering white butterflies and waving shadows and listened to the Philharmonic and the 2nd Brahms Symphony. It all seemed incredible and unreal and like people in a dream it was so beautiful. These ravings will make you smile but it was just one of these days that you prize forever and ever and ever. The music seemed to come from the trees or the sky. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, April 19, 1942) In another letter she told him how gas rationing had cut off the usual stream of spring visitors to Hickory Nut Gap, and surely she would accomplish a great deal, including extra plantings of vegetables to help supply nearby army camps. . . . [John Shorter] is much pleased. He is absolutely inspired this year. He has "patches" out in every direction and is a perfect slave to the business of keeping down the weeds. I don't think he sleeps nights! His cold frames are bulging with tomato and celery plants and he has enough lettuce on hand to feed an army. The "victory garden" slogan has gotten under his skin and into his fingers and you've just never known such a fury of effort! . . . We hear little or nothing about the German and Jap Diplomats who are lodged in the Grove Park Inn. Rumor hath it that the ladies make frequent shopping pilgrimages escorted by a heavy guard and that Miss Perkinson's and M. V. Moore's [two select Asheville stores] are just going great guns . . . (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, May 24, 1942) �The War Years 415 Jamie had decided to join a small Presbyterian church in Pleasant Valley, near the Kinkead's farm. In two letters Elizabeth told him how happy she was about this step, and why she thought church membership was tremendously important. Elizabeth was not a preachy person who vaunted her religious beliefs before the world, but here she shared with her son her deep conviction that it is only as we follow the principles of Christ that we can hope to better the world. I am so glad you are going to join the church at Poughkeepsie. I think it will make a great difference to you to feel that you are part of a great organization the world over that stands for the Christian way of life and all that it means in these dark days. The church needs you, needs your support, your keen mind, your brave outlook, your eagerness to serve. There is no doubt at all that we each one of us need all the help and strength we can get, and belonging to the church does give one strength and help. There is something about sharing in the Communion service (when you have earned the right to share in it by acknowledging openly, and freely, that you mean to do your best to live according to Christ's teaching) that is wonderfully uplifting and renewing. However critical we may often feel about what the church does, or does not do, there is no getting away from the fact that we need it more than ever before,—for leadership in the Christian way of life in which we all so fervently believe, in these terrible times. I don't think any of us are strong enough to stand alone. We must all march together, shoulder to shoulder, with a common purpose in our hearts. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, May 17, 1942) And in the second letter she wrote: I am hoping that this will reach you on Sunday . . . my dearest love and to tell you how much I am thinking about you especially during the morning service. There is an old hymn by George Neumark that was I think Grandfather McClure's favorite. One verse of it goes like this and I send it to you for today: If thou but suffer God to guide thee, And hope in him through all thy ways He'll give thee strength what e'er betide thee And bear thee through the evil days. Who trusts in God's unchanging love Builds on the rock that naught can move. These are truly evil and terrible times, but if we can dedicate our lives anew, each one of us, to carrying out the principles of Jesus Christ, something new and glorious and fine will grow out of all the misery and horror and I am convinced that we will be able to build a finer and better world. I am glad that you have waited until now to join the church. Because, now, you do so with a full understanding of the responsibilities and privileges that should come to him who truly and sincerely seeks to live the Christian life. We have such need now in the world of strong young men who are convinced �416 We Plow God's Fields that Christ's way of life is the only one that makes for service and brotherhood and permanent happiness I know that it will be a great source of strength to you and a revitalizing of your own spiritual life to join with all those who like you have felt a need to band together to work for the Kingdom of God. There is a verse in Joshua that I think of so often—"Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed"—(and in these times how often we are dismayed—"for the Lord thy God is with thee whither so ever thou goest." Bless you my darling. And may Christ in his infinite love and majesty guide you and keep you all the days of your life. (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Jamie McClure, June 5, 1942) As always, May became June and the heat of the summer began to pour down on Hickory Nut Gap. John Shorter's peas would bear, and then brown out. The sun would be good for the tomatoes and okra, green beans and corn, but it sure made the chubby old black man sweat as he cut the weeds with his hoe. Elizabeth could not be kept from her flower beds, but as she weeded and planted and nurtured along, her thoughts were quite often carried away to Jamie. His father tried to keep him cheered up as well, and to keep him abreast of the Federation happenings. He portrayed his own life as a great adventure, not wishing the struggle to show through to anyone, even his own son. This finds Guy [Sales] and myself on a Southern day coach travelling from Columbia to Asheville . . . As there is no diner on the train and as the News Butcher has no eats we are slowly starving, but I tell Guy it is good for him . . . We went down to see the Columbia Bank for Co-ops, as we felt that additional working capital would enable us to take advantage of cash bargains in seeds and fertilizers. After explaining our need and suggesting that we had some properties we could offer as security, the bank President said they were more interested in our record than in our security, and they asked if it would be satisfactory if they gave us a line of credit of $200,000.00 which we could use as we needed!! Guy and I nearly fainted, but they evidently meant it seriously. So that is how it wound up—interest rate 2 1/2%. In other words they said they would finance us to the extent that we need financing from time to time. This certainly is great, and will enable us to buy up lespedeza, soybeans, clover seed, etc. at harvest time and carry over until the season comes to sell it. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Jamie McClure, May 27,1942) In July he wrote to Jamie that things continued to go well: Hugh Toland [the Federation's accountant] has just about completed our June 20th statement. The statement looks mighty good with a net profit after liberal reserves of $48,000. The Hatchery under the fiery leadership of Jack Gattis shows a profit of $6,000 and we are buying a new 66,000 capacity incubator giving us a capacity of 237,000. Lexington Avenue [a new warehouse in Asheville] crashed through with a profit. Usually we make our years profit in the spring months and only hold these gains during the fall and that �The War Years 417 may happen again this year as we are able to secure less and less hardware and implements and sales will fall off. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Jamie McClure, July 29, 1942) Up in Poughkeepsie Jamie kept hoping to find a way to take a more active part in the war. He heard that the Coast Guard "Temporary" Reserve was easier to enter than other services and wrote his parents he was going to try for it. He also had good news to report on his job. His father replied: Well, we are all mighty proud of your "raise." You certainly deserve it, but it is very pleasant to have them spring it on you unsolicited. The Coast Guard opening seems just down your alley. I trust nothing will come to prevent your getting in. I expect I.B.M. Plant No. 4 will be sorry to see you go, but you have found a spot for which you are fitted. I am sure you will make a point of getting around and saying your Good Byes to all the people in the plant and elsewhere who have coached you along . . . (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Jamie McClure, July 29, 1942) In August, 1942, Jamie enlisted in the Coast Guard Reserve without a physical exam. Jim wrote to Hetty, "Siddy left by bus Thursday at 7 A . M . . . . She took a notion that she must see Jamie before he goes into the Coast Guard— She had saved up her money for a trip up to see him and off she went" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, August 10, 1942). The premonitions of mothers are a well known if disputed phenomenon, and Elizabeth had a deep emotional attachment to her son. His duty was to patrol the coast of Maine on one of the converted sailing yachts the Coast Guard used for this purpose. They were especially useful because their wooden hulls could not be picked up by German sonar. The CG-26 was fifty-four feet over all, a tight fit for nine men. Jamie was Boatswain's Mate 2nd Class, and terribly proud of his sailor's uniform and his ocean-going duty. The CG-26 had an open cockpit and the Maine winter made their voyages rugged, but he was an enthusiastic crew member. When the "Temporaries" were transferred to the regular Reserve several months later, he memorized the eye chart and somehow managed to squeak through the physical. Back in North Carolina Jim threw himself into extra war jobs. In addition to selling war bonds at the picnics, he organized rallies at each school in Buncombe County, getting the children to go to see everyone. He was district chairman of the United War Fund of the state, an agency that raised funds for local social agencies, the USO, the War Prisoners Aid and the United Seaman's Service. His sense of duty forced him to stretch his limited time to the utmost. He pushed his farm work force, now headed by Mr. J. R. Riddle, a good boss and a great trader, to make as much from the land as they could. Farm prices were up, but he was motivated by patriotism as well as profit, for he was well aware that war in the Twentieth century had become as much a battle of economics as of armies. German prisoners of war were garrisoned nearby and were �418 We Plow God's Fields Jamie McClure in his Coast Guard uniform. sent to farms when the owners requested help. Several came to help fill the silo at Hickory Nut Gap and Jim enjoyed trying out his previous grasp of the German language. One young man was from a town where he had studied years before, and the boy knew some of his old Mends. Just before Christmas great news came from Maine. The CG-26 was being winterized and Jamie was coming home for Christmas! "Talk about your luck!" he wrote. "We did plenty of griping when we had to stay on patrol through November with no heat and an open wheel, but it was that very lateness that kept us under repair through the holidays. You couldn't have held me down with a lOO-lb. anchor when our C.O. asked me, quite out of a blue sky, if I wouldn't like ten days over Christmas ..." (Jamie McClure to the Stuarts, January, 1943). �The War Years 419 Jamie Clarke, too, had leave from his Navy Photo Interpretation Squadron. The McClures had a square dance for all the young people. Mathilda made a cake, crowned by a little sailor-boy and a gold braided officer to represent the two cousins. Elizabeth always used all her creative powers at Christmas to provide a meaningful occasion for her family and Mends, never losing the spiritual quality of the Savior's birth. She made a special effort this year, although she could not know it would be their last Christmas together. After Christmas Jamie returned to Biddeford Pool, Maine, and spent the rest of the winter on the icy waters of the Atlantic. In February the CG-26 encountered a great storm. When the sails had to be brought in Jamie was the crew member who walked out on the icy bowsprit to tend the ropes. They were blown a thousand miles off their course and finally limped into Gloucester, Massachusetts. The little boat was beaten past repair and the crew was reassigned. Jamie was given command of a small patrol boat that was being put in shape at Biddeford Pool. Perhaps it was one of those unbelievable April days at Hickory Nut Gap, with "a cathedral blue sky" and "apple blossoms everywhere," when Jim and Elizabeth received a telegram that Jamie was in the Biddeford Hospital. He had been overcome by carbon monoxide gas, from the coal stove, while asleep on his boat. He died before they could reach Maine, travelling by slow, crowded war-time trains. Elspeth had come from Poughkeepsie and was at his bedside, but he never recovered consciousness. From the hour of birth a parent is frequently reminded by the series of accidents and near catastrophes that befall a child just how fragile is the grasp of life over death. At frightening intervals, death seems to jump out of the shadows to threaten the very ones through whom your own life has been given meaning, without whom existence would be unimaginable. The senseless, accidental quality of Jamie's death made it even harder to accept. Both Jim and Elizabeth bore up bravely, supported by Elspeth, but life could never be the same. Elizabeth's painting friend from France, Mildred Burrage, lived close by in Kennebunkport. She and her sister "Bob" took the devastated family in. They had been family away from home for Jamie for the past nine months. Elspeth has always been glad that she went to Maine twice to see her brother, once in the fail when she and a classmate, Mel Black, had enjoyed a rousing welcome from the crew of the CG-26 and a lobster dinner on board, and again just before Jamie's death. He had had a forty-eight-hour pass and they had gone skiing at North Conway to celebrate his birthday. Now Jim and Elizabeth's Lake Forest families closed ranks to support their brother and sister. In this time of tragedy Lake Forest seemed like home. Jim telegraphed Harriet Stuart to ask if Jamie could be buried near his grandfather, and they made the trip to Chicago with their son's coffin. Dumont Clarke conducted the funeral service in the Lake Forest Presbyterian Church. Summing up the life of a young man whose full potential would never be realized on this earth, he said: �420 We Plow God's Fields We come together in loving memory of this gallant boy. He was unflinching in his courage and in his devotion to duty. He was thankful that he could put all his enthusiasm and ability into the service of his country. All his life he had responded to the inspirations that had touched him and he went about the business of preparing for coming responsibilities in a thorough and patient manner. He realized that visions must be translated into action in a practical way, and he was never dismayed or discouraged by obstacles or blows. In every new circumstance, he immediately started to learn and to master the problems involved. He weighed every situation carefully, concentrating on the best elements and attacking the difficulties with enthusiasm and zest. He went amongst us with gaiety and a glad heart and a great desire for usefulness. His young life was lighted from within by ideals of service and he was, to a rare degree, without thought of self. His independence of action was based on long and careful consideration of the problems involved. Once his course was determined he was fearless and unswerving in his allegiance. His family and friends meant everything to him; he had the strongest loyalty to all those whom he loved and it was his greatest happiness to serve them in any way. In a surprising fashion, he stirred the minds of those with whom he came in contact, and his eager interest in all manner of subjects stimulated the imagination and intellects of those about him. Young as he was, he was a constructive force in the world. He was always bent on definite accomplishment and in the words of one of his friends, "Somewhere beyond our ken he will keep right on doing things." In this time of peril and world disaster, he leaves us a heritage of courage and high purpose. He lived and worked during his brief years of maturity in such a way as to add, now, to the store of integrity and valor that we so desperately need in facing the uncertainties of the future. He would have us "carry on" and march forward. There is a verse in Joshua that was to Jamie an unfailing source of strength and inspiration and guidance: "Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."12 Elizabeth, Jim and Elspeth took the train home the next day. Her mother quietly wrote something and passed it to Elspeth during the journey. It read: He who died at Anzim sends This to those who were his friends. ******************* Sweet friends, what the woman lave, For the last sleep of the grave, Is a hut which I am quitting, Is a garment no more fitting, Is a cage from which at last Like a bird my soul hath passed. Love the inmate, not the room, The wearer, not the garment �The War Years 421 the eagle, not the bars That kept him from the shining stars. ****************** He who died at Anzim sends This to those who were his friends. This poem, here freely remembered by Elizabeth McClure, was written by Edwin Arnold (1832-1904) and titled "Death in Arabia." It certainly expressed Elizabeth's feeling about death. She was sure Jamie was on important business in God's universe. It was harder for Jim to talk about his feelings. Once that summer Elspeth was with him at Tweeds Chapel Church in Fairview. The preacher spoke a great deal about Jamie, and it was hard for him to keep back tears. Afterwards he said, "Well, Pet, it's pretty tough."13 The best way for him to handle his loss was to keep on the light side. After the funeral he wrote to thank his sister for all her help. It was a great comfort to have Elspie with us, and she and Elizabeth have been wonderful as we have sought to re-establish ourselves. We have been somewhat overwhelmed by the deluge of letters. It seems as though every one whose life Jamie touched has written. We are now facing the task of answering 600 letters . . . You and Doug were so generous about the tickets. It was a huge help to us. We had sold a mule and a mare and I had the money in my pocket when the night call reached us—and somehow with this and the help of die Coast Guard, and the big lift by the Stuarts, we reached home without borrowing. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, April 16, 1943) Frances Herbert, Elizabeth's close Mend, recognized how thoroughly jolted she was by the death of her son. As a little girl Elizabeth had been wrenched by the death and absence of her mother, and now her sensitivities were strained by another broken bond. A government hospital had been built on the site of the old State Test Farm, where the early Federation picnics had been held. The hospital was used to care for the casualties of the war. Elizabeth decided these young soldiers could use her gift of beauty to aid in their recovery, and undertook to build up and care for a flower garden there. Frances Herbert remembers her gathering up hoes, spades and rakes and boarding the bus for Asheville at the top of her driveway. She hated to take John Shorter or Mr. Huntley away from duties on the farm to drive her for the day to Moore General. In Asheville, she lugged her implements to another bus that would carry her out to Swannanoa. Many times Frances Herbert would meet her out there. "She just really couldn't stop working," said Mrs. Herbert later. "I used to take my yardman out with me, and he would be worn out. She worked like a day laborer."14 She felt there was something obsessional about this gardening project, an attempt to cope with Jamie's death by helping the sons of other mothers. In one of her "Picnic" letters to Elspeth and Jamie Clarke she wrote: "Gaither �422 We Plow God's Fields Robinson is up singing "John Henry"—(but no one will ever sing it as our dear Jamie McClure used to do it—with a feeling of suspense and drama and imminent tragedy and yet a kind of coziness about it all that made you think of covered wagons and camp fires and the vast romance of the West always opening up). A wonderful haunting melody, with all the queer slides and drags that make it so completely mountain" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Elspeth and Jamie Clarke, July 8, 1945). Jim, too, was determined "to carry on and march forward." Not only did he continue all his duties as president of the Federation and community good citizen, he kept right on raising money for the Educational and Development Fund. This must have been particularly difficult after the loss of his son because his success depended so much on his charm and personal magnetism. People gave to help his projects because they liked and had confidence in him. He had to be always at his best. Each fall, reluctantly at first, he boarded the train for the annual campaign. He soon got into the spirit of the effort and mapped out each year's drive as a grand game, setting his goal almost unrealistically high, and pushing hard to reach it. He remembered names and a little something about each man or woman that was of importance to them. His daily tallies were kept in a little black book, with a running total he could compare with his progress from the last year. He would carry his cocktail all evening without taking a sip, moving from one conversation to another, introducing people to each other, always managing to turn the conversation towards the problems of his friends in the Southern mountains. He studied the Social Register and even plucked the names of successful people he hoped to reach out of magazines and newspapers. Special friends organized luncheons or dinners where he could speak. Sherman Pratt, of the Standard Oil family, had made a movie of the Federation and the people it served, and this was very successful in arousing interest. Many of Jim's innovative projects depended on his money-raising efforts. During the war years the Educational and Development Fund was pumping nearly $60,000 annually into the picnics, the Training School, the Lord's Acre, and projects to improve the genetic quality of the dairy herds and poultry flocks of the mountains. Jim was so successful as a fund raiser that he could never replace himself. Each year he worked up a promotional pamphlet "The Forgotten Pioneer, A New Chance for the Mountain People." He included figures such as, " . . . for each dollar donated to date, the Fund has put $22.84 in the pockets of our farmers. We are helping the mountaineers to help themselves." He wrote sister Hetty, "I enclose our new circular. I have to raise my Budget on it—Do you think it has chex appeal?" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, June 20, 1936). Each pamphlet had on the cover a large photograph chosen to impress his contributors with the proud and honorable people of North Carolina who were trying to pull themselves out of a hopeless economic inheritance. The pictures exhibited the quaintness of life there: the mules and oxen or the simple log homes that had earned for the region its reputation for backwardness. And yet �The War Years 423 Picture of the "Forgotten Pioneer." Jamie McClure took this picture of Dave Sharp. Jim chose fine faces for these covers, with great strength and fortitude. The October 1941 issue showed "The Forgotten Pioneer" riding on his ox sled with a bag of flour. In 1945, a pretty young woman leads two mules out into her family's pasture. The 1947 issue featured three cheerful bare foot boys, sitting on the porch holding their hoes. Jim liked to remind his audiences of the great number of children in the mountains, and how important their lives were to the future of the United States. He would then introduce the work of the Lord's Acre, very popular among the Protestants of the North. In 1943, the picture was a studied contrast between the pride and optimism of a young soldier, and the mountain cabin he was leaving behind. Of all the photographs, one he used in May 1941 was his tour deforce. Way up on the side of a high mountain ridge, a man stands upright and proud next to his field of corn. In the distance, three mountain ranges, row after row, are plainly visible. The man appears to see beyond the beautiful landscape at his feet to the better future for his grandchildren. Jamie McClure took that picture of Dave Sharp. Open up one of Jim's pamphlets, and there were more pictures that give �424 We Plow God's Fields visual expression to the work of the Federation. One featured two parents planting their garden, followed by three small children hoeing and pulling the dirt back over the seeds, standing over the heading "FOUNDATIONS OF AMERICAN DEMOCRACY: The Family." Jim asked rhetorically, in large print, "Who Are These Mountain People?" and "Are They Worth Helping?" On the back cover, he would list the prominent citizens who were backing him up. Mrs. Henry Davison was still with him, as the Chairman of the Women's Committee in New York. Arthur Page remained a strong captain in the efforts. Angier B. Duke, Thomas J. Watson, Henry P. Luce, Mrs. J. C. Penney and several Fords and Biddies were some of the famous names that stood behind Jim McClure's efforts. The high point of the Fund drive became the annual "mountain picnic" held in the Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Jim McClure treated his supporters and their friends, a sophisticated crowd, to an evening unlike any other in the city. The Federation String Band set the tone and rhythm, performing buck dances, singing old ballads, and playing the Tennessee Waltz. Jim and Elspeth found that their "fox chase" imitation was as popular in New York as it was with the Cherokee Indians. Just as in North Carolina, local performers turned up to take part in the program: Mr. Watson's son "Dick" (Arthur K.) Watson yodeled; Madame Novatna from the Metropolitan Opera performed; Jimmy Van Alan, who invented the tie-breaker rules for tennis, sang a song he had composed about Jim. The song was sung to the tune of "The Old 97." When Jim McClure hit the Southern mountains In the year one nine one six, It was common belief that the North and South land Could never, never mix. Then Jim McClure smiled that smile that's loosened purse strings That never were loosed before . . . The guests took part in musical chairs with as much enthusiasm as the players in Yancey County, while the New York audience collapsed with laughter. Dinner was served, and the more adventurous barely hesitated to try out the delicate and indelicate staples of the mountain diet. One typical menu included Potlikker soup, wild strawberry jam, cornbread with sorghum molasses oozed on top, all followed by a slice of blackberry pie. Slices of Federation turkey would likely as not be the centerpiece of the meal, raised, everyone was reminded, with the help of contributions made to the Fund. Waldorf waiters were stuffed incongruously into bib overalls, and Jamie Clarke remembers the confusion in the vast basement when he delivered white Southern cornmeal, sweet potatoes and several lively calves to help create a country atmosphere. Jim was himself master of ceremonies and IBM's Thomas J. Watson paid for the entire evening. In 1941, Mr. Watson made this introduction of the evening's principal speaker. �The War Years 425 Waldorf-Astoria Federation Picnic, 1954 or 1955. Max Roberts (on far left), Jim McClure (center) with his famous white pants, and Elspeth McClure on the far right. You all know that back of everything worthwhile are two things: an idea and a personality. The idea back of the Farmers Federation is to improve the conditions and raise the standards of living of the community in Western North Carolina mountain country. The personality back of this worthwhile proposition is Mr. McClure . . . The point I would like to have all of you remember in regard to this work is that Mr. McClure has never given a dollar to a farmer, nor loaned him any money, but he has given him an educational institution. I consider it the finest type of agricultural college I have ever seen. He has taught these people how to produce more from their soil, and he has found markets for their products 15 Jim wooed his audience with an address he had refined and polished over the years. He liked to begin with a tale or two he had picked up through the years. Away back in the Smoky Mountains, a man lived in a small cabin, alone except for his dog. Well the winters there are long and lonely, and so this man decided to teach his dog to play checkers. One day he was sitting in front of the fire playing checkers with his dog sitting in the opposite chair—when he heard a knock on his door. It was a New Yorker, lost in the mountains, and he entered when the mountaineer yelled for him to come on in. "Well, what do you want stranger?" "Nothing. I just want to watch the game." The dog made a move, the �426 We Plow God's Fields mountaineer studied a while and made his move. The dog thought a while and moved again. In a few more moves the dog won— The stranger said, "Will you let me take you and that dog to New York. Why you can get more money in one night in New York than you will make in ten years on this farm. People will pay big money to see that dog play checkers. The mountaineer hesitated and thought it over. "Stranger, he's really not as good as you might think. I reckon I win somewheres of three games out of every five."16 With such a story, Jim brought his audience down to North Carolina. The isolation, the poverty and honest naivete of the mountaineer were described in a way that would catch the attention of his contributors, and give him a springboard into describing the work of the Federation. Jim always kept his speeches short and soon brought the Federation band back to liven up the spirits of the crowd. Several similar events were held at the Barclay Hotel in Philadelphia, where George Munson and Clare McCoy, publisher of the Evening Bulletin, steered Jim's fund raising activities. The purpose of the evening was to arouse the interest of these people, to give them an unshakable curiosity about life in Western North Carolina, so that their generosity might be cultivated for the benefit of the work in the mountains. A rousing square dance went on late into the evening, with occasional breaks to auction baby chickens, a pony or a piglet, which created a great stir. These picnics were a curious blend of the two worlds of Jim and Elizabeth, and exhibited once again the skill with which he could combine fun with purpose in order to enlist the help of all sorts of people. The best part of these forays to New York, Philadelphia or Detroit was getting back to Hickory Nut Gap, sometimes as late as December. Jim wrote to Elspeth at college once at the end of a campaign, "Tomorrow I head back to Heaven and the Heaven keeper!"17 Back at the farm John and Mathilda Shorter were still the main props at the house along with Rev. David Huntley, whose children were fast growing up and moving successfully out into the world. Betty was the capable and willing secretary to Mr. McClure in his capacity as the president of the Federation. Elspeth and some of her Vassar classmates spent the summer of 1943 working on the farm. As in World War I, extra vegetable crops were planted to help feed soldiers in nearby army camps. Sis Rice received a proposal from her husband-to-be while weeding the asparagus patch. Jess Rattray almost collapsed while picking endless lima beans in the boiling heat, and Virginia Osborne stayed all summer to help tend and dust green beans, hoe corn, and pick tomatoes with the farm hands and their families. Clinard Settles and his brother John Scott Settles were the heart of the work force, under the able and humorous leadership of Mr. J. R. Riddle. Nannie Settles, John's strong wife, was the fastest bean picker. Several acres of yellow tomatoes were struck by a blight that was new to the mountains. As the girls and their co-workers washed the red clay off the fruits in a great tub, it was hard to tell which tomatoes were a ripe �The War Years 427 yellow and which were rotten. Jamie Clarke's letters from Guadalcanal were read over and over, but they could give little hint of what was happening in the far Pacific. The girls also attended every picnic with Jim. Elspeth helped her father line up the program and wrote the articles for the paper. Virginia Osborne sat gallantly in the blazing sun, selling war bonds and stamps with Mr. A. C. Reynolds. Elspeth planned to follow her brother into military service after graduating from Vassar on the accelerated plan in the spring of 1944. Her parents came up for the graduation ceremonies, and while they were having breakfast with the Misses Kinkead, who had been so good to their children, the telephone rang. A harassed Vassar official asked for James McClure. President Roosevelt had been scheduled to make the graduation address, but had to cancel at the last minute. Could Jim work up a speech in time? Miss Elise remembers his response. "Do you think we can do it in two hours?" he asked Elizabeth. With her lovely smile she jumped up and "Yes. Jim—let's try!"18 How he loved a crisis. The speech was enthusiastically received. It was vintage McClure, a call to arms to the best and brightest in the nation. The Poughkeepsie newspaper reported: Tracing American ideals, the speaker, whose daughter, Elspeth McClure, was a member of the graduating class, reminded that "The hope of the world lies in our purpose to carry these ideas forward. It will take fresh understandings and new research and original effort and keen penetration to discover afresh the great power that lies in these American ideals .. . General Smuts has said, "mankind has struck its tents and is on the march." In the world which is so rapidly changing today there lies ahead of the class of 1944 a period of unparalleled opportunity. You are finishing your preparation on the eve of the invasion of Europe, for which the free people of the world are waiting. Our success in arms must be followed through by America's entry into world citizenship. There is no escape from it. It is the destiny of America. The world is fluid and your generation will make the patterns and determine the moulds of the immediate course of mankind. Success in a shot in golf depends on the follow through. The same will be true of our entry into world affairs. You will be the ones to follow through. And so today, I want to talk to you of the Creative Power of American Ideals and of how the ideas which made America can restore us here in America and promise hope to the world. Freedom and liberty have enabled mankind to develop abilities in a remarkable way under democracy."19 His speech was an adaptation of one he had delivered before the Pen and Plate Club in Asheville entitled "The Springs of Democracy." He concluded his remarks at Vassar by challenging the class of 1944, and their parents and friends. In so doing, he verbalized the motive force in his own life. He said, "Everyone here, today, instinctively believes in the things that have made America, we believe so strongly that we will fight for them on every battle front in �428 We Plow God's Fields the world . . . It will be a tough assignment to put these ideals into practice. I am not offering a life of ease but instead a life that will call for all your energy and all your ability. It is a great challenge which will require a peculiar quality of mind and spirit."20 In essence Jim McClure believed that it would be possible to export ideas like the Farmers Federation and the Lord's Acre to foreign lands, and raise up the incomes and the spiritual resources of developing nations as he had done in the Southern Appalachians. He actually admired the way Adolph Hitler had transformed millions of Germans from inertia to action by offering them hope and pride. But the energy Hitler roused was directed to evil and destructive purposes. Why could not the energies of the American people be utilized to conquer the world in the name of human progress? Jim's World War I ethic that peace could be achieved by nonintervention had been replaced by the belief that America must actively promote the values of democracy. A few years later he talked about the possibility of sending out young men and women to Third World countries to work for a year or two, an idea very similar to John F. Kennedy's Peace Corps. Now his own daughter was going into the Navy and he was proud of her. After graduation she was accepted for WAVE Officers Training School. Soon she was marching in formation all over the campus of Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts, learning Navy communications. There was universal support for the war against the dictators and young people all over the country were enlisting in military service. The scarcity of manpower in Western North Carolina put many women behind the wheels of their husband's tractors, making for delightful cover photographs for the Federation News. To a serviceman overseas, one picture of a pretty girl was worth much more than many thousands of words. Bob Brown, editor of the News, started a contest for a Burley Tobacco Queen of Western North Carolina and Miss Ophelia Cole, the first winner, graced the cover of the December tobacco issue. Barefooted and smiling, she stands in front of the crop she helped to grow, wearing what appears to be nothing but a skirt and blouse of tobacco leaves. Pauline Smith, another candidate, received two trunks full of letters from homesick servicemen after her picture was in the News. She was shown watching a tobacco bed being burned near Barnardsville School, wearing the shortest of shorts. One ship's crew made her their pin-up girl and asked for large pictures. Dumont Clarke must have been dubious about this promotional stunt. Already he cringed at the thought of the Federation's support of tobacco. But he was so busy spreading the Lord's Acre plan far and wide that he hardly had time to complain. With Elspeth away the farm would have been lonely that summer, but Elizabeth's nephew, Corwith Cramer, Jr., came to work on the farm and at the picnics, bringing his school friend, John Compton, son of the nuclear physicist, Dr. Arthur Compton. Cory had already spent much time at the farm, for his father's boat business kept him moving about. Elizabeth, Jim and Elspeth all loved him, and in many ways he was like Jamie McClure. He had the same �The War Years 429 brilliant mind and energy, and he was learning to play the banjo and sing mountain ballads. He and John worked on the farm and at the picnics and it meant a great deal to Jim and Elizabeth to have him there. Just when Elspeth finished her WAVE training at the end of August 1944, Jamie Clarke arrived home on leave, after eighteen months in the Pacific, with long duty on the island of Guadalcanal. Elspeth had loved Jamie for a long time. She had grown up during the nearly two years since they had seen each other, and Jamie discovered he felt the same way. They were cousins, so it took some careful thought and research into the genetics of the situation. The related side of their families was the strong McClure side, which was in their favor. With Elspeth stationed at the Navy Yard in Charleston, South Carolina, and Jamie at the Navy Department in Washington, they had to do some long distance considering, but at last all the obstacles were worked out. Elizabeth and Jim planned to spend Christmas with Elspeth in Charleston. They were offered an apartment in the old part of the city by Jim's cousin, Cornelia Cogswell Sage, and a WAVE friend of Elspeth's helped her set up a Christmas tree in a pot of earth sneaked from St. Phillips churchyard. Just a day or two before they were to leave Elizabeth was running down the steps to the garden to gather some greens for the Garden Club's Christmas wreath project, when she slipped on the ice and broke her arm. With one arm in a cast she kept right on with Christmas preparations, tieing up packages with one hand and her teeth. On Christmas Day Elspeth had "the duty" at the Navy Yard Communications office. That evening she told her parents, who already knew what was in the wind, that she and Jamie were indeed engaged. They were delighted and supportive. Elspeth and Jamie had pooled Navy resources to buy her mother a fur coat for Christmas, something she had not had since she was a young girl. Somehow, in spite of her broken arm, she cut branches of forsythia and yellow jasmine ("Spring Candlelight," she always called it) and forced them into bloom for the February 17th wedding in the Presbyterian Church in Asheville, where there was room for their many friends. Elspeth had a hard time getting the ten days leave to be married, which was guaranteed to WAVEs, from her crusty commanding officer, and reached home the day before the wedding. Young Corwith Cramer, his father, Uncle Ambrose, and Tommy DeBevoise, son of a New York supporter of the Federation, who had spent the winter working for the coop and living at the Clarke's, were ushers. Jamie's contemporaries were all away in the service. Elspeth's childhood friends, Beckie Herbert and Mary D. Heywood, were able to take part, and her roommate from Vassar, Farley Walton, was maid of honor. The day before the wedding Jamie's mother Annie took Elspeth aside and told her that Jamie had never given her a moment's worry. Elizabeth and Jim went to stay with Annie and Dumont after the wedding, leaving Hickory Nut Gap as a peaceful haven for the new couple. Elizabeth even arranged to send groceries out on the bus to Mathilda, as gas rationing limited driving severely. The newlyweds had no cares, save for getting lost in ��The War Years 431 Miss Ophelia Cole, 16, of Newfound, Tobacco Queen for the 1943-44 season. a fog on Big Bearwallow Mountain above the little town of Gerton. They wandered down the wrong side of the ridge, ending up twenty miles from home at a little country store, where they telephoned to John Shorter to pick them up, along with the three little white farm dogs! While they waited they enjoyed in silence the muttered comments of an elderly male customer "That boy ought to be in the army!" Elspeth and Jamie had been closely observed by neighbors as they started their walk earlier in the afternoon. When they got back to Gerton they learned that loyal friends had organized a search party! John dreaded wasting more precious gas, but Elspeth thought they must try to notify them that the lost were found. "That's the—ah worry," the old man sighed wearily as he drove up the rough Bearwallow Road. Half way up they found Uncle Mouse Freeman's son, Filmore, Deputy Sheriff of Gerton. At once he blew a tremendous blast on a siren attached to the roof of his car and answering whistles and shouts came from the mountainside. When the ten days were over the newlyweds returned sadly to their posts in Charleston and Washington. But Elspeth had been scheduled to attend Communications School in Washington in a few weeks, and the WAVE District Personnel Officer had offered her hope for a transfer to Washington. The EastOpposite: Dumont Clarke prays with a group of Lord's Acre participants. �Wedding of James Clarke and Elspeth McClure. Left-right: Mary D. Heywood, Farley Walton, Rebecca Herbert, Phebe Ann Lewis, Dumont Clarke, Annie McClure Clarke, James McClure Clarke, Elspeth McClure, Elizabeth Cramer McClure, James G.K. McClure. �The War Years 433 ern Seaboard Naval installations were dropping personnel as the war with Germany drew to a close. In Washington Jamie, with brave optimism, answered an ad for a house. Housing was very scarce, but his sentimental telegram melted the heart of the landlady. She chose his application over hundreds of others because she was about to get married herself. Elizabeth's brother Ambrose, who was heading up Lend-Lease for the United Kingdom, and his wife Mary, invited him to live with them until Elspeth arrived. The Communications School made a happy break in their separation, and Jamie had the little house filled with daffodils when Elspeth arrived. By the end of May the transfer came through and they were able to get settled. Elspeth worked Navy watches round the clock, changing every two days, in the big Navy code room while Jamie had regular hours as editor of Naval Aviation magazine, but they were so happy together in their pretty little house in Georgetown that it didn't matter at all. Elizabeth visited them and resolutely cooked artichokes in the dish pan, for they had no large sauce pan. She even sent them rooted boxwood cuttings for their pocket-sized garden!21 When the war was over the one thing Jamie Clarke wanted to do was get back to Asheville to help with the Farmers Federation. Late in the fall they both were out of the Navy and able to move into the cottage behind the spring house. Jamie went straight to work. On V-J Day, Jim McClure was sixty years old and the time was coming when he would have to pass the torch of his work on to the young. Jamie Clarke was a hard worker, capable and willing. But the founder was a very special man, most would say indispensable. The Federation was in his head, and it was hard to learn all the angles. The war years had been a great mixture of blessings and difficulties. Nothing could compensate Jim for the loss of his son. But the business of the Federation was making great strides forward. Soon Jamie and Elspeth would bring back the sounds and duties of little children to Hickory Nut Gap. Jim did not remove himself from the struggle. He could never retire, because he loved the working and fighting too much. The Lord had indeed equipped him with the strength to carry a heavy load. 1. Fanners Federation News, November 1940, p. 7. 2. Farmers Federation News, December 1940, p. 10. 3. Farmers Federation News, August 1940. 4. Dumont Clarke, Farmers Federation News, May 1941, p. 19. 5. Dumont Clarke, Farmers Federation News, May, 1941. 6. Jamie McClure, "Frontier Civilization in the Blue Ridge Highlands, unpublished paper, written for a course at Yale University, no date. 7. Ibid. 8. James McClure Clarke, unpublished recollections, 1947. 9. Interview with James McClure Clarke. �434 We Plow God's Fields 10. Ibid. 11. James G. K. McClure, Jr., address given before the National Institute of Social Sciences, New York City, May 24, 1944. 12. Dumont Clarke, address at the funeral of Jamie McClure, Lake Forest, Dlinois, April, 1943. 13. Interview with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 14. Interview with Mrs. Frances Herbert. 15. Thomas J. Watson, speech quoted in Business Machines, the IBM company newspaper, January 16, 1941. 16. Paraphrased from a speech by James G. K. McClure, Jr. 17. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 18. Ibid. 19. "U.S. Must Join in World Affairs, Speaker Tells Vassar Graduates," Poughkeepsie Afew Yorker, April 19, 1944, p. 1. 20. Ibid., p. 4. 21. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. �Chapter Twenty Last Years So long as our lives individually strive to embody the spirit that comes of God, our souls seeing renewal always in the source of all life must then meet, and of necessity become one, since in God there is no separation. That which is you and that which is I must then perforce unite and become eternally part of one another just as two rivers meeting, henceforth mingle and become one stream that continues on its way until it is merged in the great sea ... (Elizabeth Cramer to James G. K. McClure, Jr., February 8, 1916) By March, one can expect in the Southern Appalachians a fair number of the most delightful warm days. All across the region, the sun begins to work its miracle of drawing out the world's most diverse variety of wild flowers and blooming shrubs. Each mountain homestead, almost without exception, has its well-tended beds of transplanted wild azaleas, lady slippers and phlox. In spring a woman will find time each day to study these sacred little patches, watching for the first shoots of daffodils or iris. About the same time, her husband manages to swing by for a look at his bee gums, to see how the colonies fared over the winter as they respond to the warming rays of sun. Elizabeth McClure rejoiced each year hi this renewal of spring, and loved to wander about and rediscover the hidden beauties that lay scattered about her home in the mountains. Trailing arbutus, the first herald of the new season, is the shyest of the ephemerals, signalling the pure white drifts of Sarvis trees in the leafless forest. Quickly come great beds of trillium, showy orchids, dutchman's breeches and blood root, followed by punctatium (the earliest, small leafed Rhododendron), dogwood, and flame azalea with great splashes of color in the newly greening woods. For Elizabeth, this seasonal show was holy revelation enough to prove the existence of a loving Creator. In late March of 1946, Elizabeth and Jim had been married for thirty years, and had spent almost the entire time at their beloved Hickory Nut Gap. For all that time Elizabeth had been working in partnership with the fecund Blue Ridge soil, with proud mountain men who were amazed to find themselves working with "pretties," and with assorted small boys in faded overalls, to surround the old house with beauty. Throughout the three growing seasons, native plants and those chosen with care from her array of catalogues made a succession of changing colors against the ever growing backdrop of glossy green boxwood. Many of these she and Jim had planted as scraggly shrubs bought from unappreciative owners. Jim and Elizabeth set some of these at the boundary of the rock 435 �436 We Plow God's Fields garden above the house, where they slowly grew into veritable giants, shouldering each other in undulating waves. Elizabeth rooted countless cuttings and set them out to grow into hedges. She trimmed them faithfully over the years, using a string line to keep those all important straight lines that she carefiilly planned to melt into the looseness of a large, untrimmed bush, or to lead the eye into the green woods beyond the garden. By 1946 Hickory Nut Gap had become a happy combination of architecture and landscape and a wonderful botanical adventure. Elizabeth was the conductor of a floral symphony that played a different movement in each season of the year, to the delight of her guests and family. That spring, the paths and courtyards of Hickory Nut Gap were for Jim and Elizabeth filled with memories of their children. Twenty-five years before, little "Punie" would have enjoyed the warmth of March crawling about the lawn pulling at the dandelions. It would take only a glance at the sandbox to remind her of the treasure hunts she used to organize for little Elfie and her Stuart cousins from Chicago. In the spring of 1943, she had lost Jamie altogether to this life. Now Elspeth was beginning her own family at Hickory Nut Gap. Elizabeth and Jim were now members of an older generation, and they wore their dignity with the kind of confidence men and women possess when their lives have stood for a glorious purpose. With the one exception of their son's death, the sorrows and disappointments that were allotted them had been dispelled by the courage and the vision both shared when they were married back in 1916. Their works had matched their faith, and they were surrounded by the variety of their friendships. For March 29, 1946, Elspeth and Jamie planned a surprise anniversary party, secretly inviting a number of these oldest friends including, of course, Annie and Dumont Clarke, who had been in on the courtship from its beginning. Everyone was asked to come in the costume of the time of their own marriage, and to bring a photograph. Elspeth persuaded her mother to go off with Jim on an overnight trip to Tennessee, which gave her time to decorate the studio at the back of the courtyard with the photographs of the guests and to set up tables for supper with Betty Huntley's help. Meanwhile, Mathilda prepared the feast. Jim and Elizabeth had only just returned when the first guests arrived. Elizabeth was even more startled than Jim, but they both entered right into the spirit of this celebration of friendship and love. Even at this stage of their lives, though, there was little time for reminiscing. Jim continued to manage the Farmers Federation, whose business raced along during the post-war period. The summer picnics were now a mountain tradition, a holiday that thousands anticipated. And Jim continued to make his autumn pilgrimages up north to gather together loyal contributors and treat them to his charm and the revised pitch of "What we are doing about the mountain farm." He threw himself as well behind the great efforts to build new schools in Buncombe County and to introduce symphony music to Western North Carolina. The region was changing; industry was building up in the mountains, �Last Years 437 stemming the out migration of young families to the mill towns of the Piedmont and elsewhere. Young soldiers returning home brought with them new aspirations, and a hankering for their piece of the American Dream. Fewer would remain satisfied with the rigors of subsistence agriculture or its meager economic rewards. Everyone wanted an automobile, and many once prim and well-kept mountain yards became the shrines of a generation of self-taught mechanics. Petunias and asters had to compete with old transmissions and discarded bumpers. Very few farms would escape at least one or two junkers out in the yard, with a V-8 engine dangling from the old oak shade tree. The jacked-up car of the whiskey runner was added to the moonshine legend. In fact, the curves through Hickory Nut Gap became the "Thunder Road" for many aspiring blockaders who liked to refine their road handling skills by squalling and screeching up and down the mountain on a Saturday evening. But it was roads such as this one, and new ones besides, that opened up the region to the national economy. Not only were manufactured goods readily available in Western North Carolina, but the families themselves enjoyed new mobility and sources of income. Jim McClure's dream of a wage earner in every home appeared possible. Manufacturers discovered the capabilities and the willing spirit of the mountain worker, who appreciated his earnings and wanted nothing more than to go home after work to do a little tinkering, hoe in the garden or play ball with his children. The new economic order in the mountains meant a new role for the Farmers Federation. In many areas farming remained the main source of livelihood, but in others conditions were changing. With the war over, Jim McClure began to formulate new ideas and projects for the Federation. In the Twenty-sixth anniversary issue of the News (1946), he laid before the membership a bold new plan of action. A GREAT PROGRAM AHEAD The Fanners Federation is developing a great, constructive program which will build solid foundations for a better civilization in Western North Carolina . .. We are planning to build a solid foundation of markets which will mean the prosperity of the towns. Poultry and Eggs: We already have started a new modern poultry-processing plant on Valley Street in Asheville. This will have zero storage rooms for frozen poultry; cold storage rooms for eggs, apples, and potatoes; it will have lots of space to take care of these farm products. We are planning this building to be a solid foundation for the marketing of poultry, eggs, apples and potatoes in Western North Carolina. Turkeys: We are launching a campaign for turkey production . .. Freezer Lockers and Frozen Foods: Great strides will be made within the next few years in the processing and use of frozen foods. The Fanners Federation plans to keep right abreast with this movement. We already have four locker plants in operation and another one just about to be built at Brevard. Campaigns for locker plants are going forward at Marion and Spruce Pine. �438 We Plow God's Fields The Fanners Federation stands willing to go ahead with any community in the erection of a locker plant if a survey shows that the installation can be operated at a safe margin. These locker plants will enable the farmers to get started in the frozen food business; and also, in the processing of meat... Milk: We are already at work building a cooperative dairy plant. The directors of the Farmers Federation feel that this will establish a solid foundation for the marketing of milk and milk products in Western North Carolina .. . High Production: The program of the Farmers Federation will call for high production in every branch of agriculture. You all know the standards we have set in our hatchery: Every baby chick has the inheritance behind it for 250 eggs. We have the Dairy Improvement program, also based on genetics, designed to increase the average production of dairy cows to ten or twelve thousand pounds a year . . . the bull barn for an artificial insemination program is now being built. Spiritual Resources: The Religious Department plans to go even further in backing up and trying to help strengthen the country Sunday Schools and churches. The Lord's Acre Movement has given new vitality and strength to our country churches and Sunday Schools. We now plan to add to that service a church and Sunday School recreation service so that wholesome recreation can be used through the Sunday Schools in developing the kind of Christian character that we need for this new atomic age into which we are coming. The strength of America has always been in the country districts. We want to develop the type of strong Christian character in our rural sections that will keep America marching forward into a better day.1 The first rays of that "better day" were already shining in the North Carolina mountains. In all measurements of economic activity, the region still lagged behind the rest of the nation, but the opportunities of 1946 were vastly different from those of 1916 when Jim and Elizabeth first came to the South. The effects of two wars, the TVA, better highways, more tourists, more industry, and better access to national markets were remaking the lives of the mountaineers. The Federation was playing a leading role in the development of the region, raising up the level of skills and the hopes of the men and women and their children who lived in its territory. As Jim McClure often said, "A rising tide raises all boats." By his hammering on the facts of scientific agriculture, in cooperation with the County Agricultural agents, a generation of farmers had ready access to the most current techniques of fanning. And with the News and the picnics, Jim made the information better than accessible, he made it understandable and downright fun. The habits of progressive farming spread, with the obvious results that the members who followed these procedures grew more food, and made more money for their families. In a less obvious way, these men and women learned to think in a critical, problem-solving manner. Sociologists have noted the difficulties traditional societies face when trying to mesh with the ways of the modern industrial system. A large part of the adjustment involves a new philosophical approach, an acceptance of the scientific method of critical thinking. In Western North Carolina, the Federation helped to promote this approach to problems, and therefore �Last Years 439 contributed to the remarkably smooth transition the region experienced in shifting away from the habits of its traditional culture. Jim McClure chaired an endless number of committees and meetings that involved the farmers in their own business. He taught by example organizational rules and etiquette, and how to arrive at an acceptable joint decision after several opinions were expressed. The farmers involved learned about minutes, and treasurer's reports, and how to elect people to positions correctly and with a minimum of hard feelings. The policies of the Federation were set by two directors elected by the membership of each county. These were usually leading farmers. Warehouse committees helped to manage the policies of each of the Federation stores. Market news taught the mountain farmers how to think in terms of supply and demand, world commodity markets, government policies, and all the other factors that determine crop prices. If the Federation was something of a large-scale school, its central purpose remained to put cash in the pocket of the mountain farmer. Jim McClure had always used his powers of imagination to create money-generating schemes. With the aid of the Fund he had been able to try out many of them. The Federation created, promoted and maintained a wide variety of programs. Ironically its very success would eventually contribute to the demise of the organization. After the war, the Federation expanded into new areas such as freezer locker plants, the sale of home appliances, a modern poultry dressing plant, a cooperative dairy plant, artificial insemination and other programs. The expertise and energies of the management became more dispersed just at a time when agriculture nationally experienced a burst of specialization. For example, the Federation committed itself to building up a modern poultry business. From the earliest days of the cooperative, Jim McClure had felt that Western North Carolina was an ideal region for chickens. The cool summer climate, along with the requirement of mountain farmers to raise a crop that did not need rich bottom land, made poultry and turkeys very promising. The business did grow and continue to put cash in the pockets of farmers, from the days of the black pot out in front of the Fairview warehouse for scalding and plucking chickens through the era of the live poultry railroad car, and finally to the building of the Federation's own hatchery and dressing plant. Over the years the officers of the Federation learned a lot about the fickle nature of the chicken business, overcoming diseases and fighting a series of marketing difficulties; but Jim always remained sure that the Federation could prevail and provide for its region a stable and profitable poultry enterprise. An improved hatchery was built to ensure a supply of healthy baby chicks, with the best inheritance for rapid development in the case of broilers or high production in the case of laying hens. Chicks sold to farmers were repurchased by the Federation and processed at the dressing plant in Asheville, where they were scientifically killed, plucked, gutted, packaged and marketed. A modern plant was begun in 1946 and completed the next year at a cost of $130,000. The Educational and Development Fund assisted in launching this new project. At �440 We Plow God's Fields the May 1948 meeting of the Fund Trustees the completion of the plant was noted and the immediate support of the Fund requested. . . . [T]he modern poultry processing plant of the Farmers Federation . . . is in operation. This plant was necessary as a marketing foundation on which to build a poultry industry in the mountains, but this plant cannot develop volume enough to pay its way in the fiscal year .. . Since these fine facilities were built and put into operation to further the development of agricultural production in the mountain territory and since time is needed to develop volume of business to the point where they will be self-sustaining, a motion was made that the Budget be amended to include an item to cover interest and depreciation on these buildings . . . amounting to $36,278.07 .. . This motion was seconded and duly carried.2 Spread over the next decade, over $300,000 of Fund money was spent promoting and maintaining the hatchery, the dressing plant and various other poultry related enterprises. It had always been the objective of the Federation to spread the poultry business out among many small farmers to help them increase cash income. Fred Moffitt was one of the first to be "in chickens" with the Federation in Clay County, a sparsely populated and remote county at the far western tip of North Carolina. He had a supply flock, furnishing eggs for the broiler breeds to the Federation hatchery in Asheville: Rhode Island Reds and Domineckers. Each week a yellow Federation truck would pull up to the Moffitt farm, pick up the eggs, and leave the correct amount and mix of feed. During periods of tight money, the Federation would allow a dependable man like Fred Moffitt to build his credit up a bit. For his part, he was sure that the Federation poultry business was the "best thing going at the time." In truth there were then few other opportunities in Clay County. All over Western North Carolina chicken houses began to spring up and there was a feeling of excitement and optimism as the profits started to come in. It wasn't long, however, before large feed companies began to see the advantages of creating their own poultry operations to stimulate the sale of their products. They would go so far as to build large chicken houses for the farmer, on credit, advance him the birds, and then pay for raising them. Very quickly, for both layers and broilers, the scale of profitable operation grew larger and larger. The tremendous expansion of the broiler business in particular, with large-scale credit extended by the feed companies, resulted in overexpansion of the industry and heavy losses to the companies and to the farmers. Many big chicken houses still stand empty in Western North Carolina as a monument to this overexpansion and excessive credit. Fred Moffitt had started out with what seemed a large enterprise at that time—200 hens and 20 roosters. But he "went out" when the modern, large scale company-owned birds "came in." He understood that "Today a farmer must raise seven to ten thousand birds to make it."3 �Last Years 441 Farmers Federation poultry processing plant, built in 1948. Jim McClure's dream of a poultry industry geared to raise the standards of living of the small farmer in the North Carolina mountains ran head on into the post-war drive of big business entering the agricultural field. His 1950 report in the Federation News reflects the way this development was beginning to affect business. Perhaps the highlight of the year just passed, when we look back at it, will be the development of the broiler industry. This was an instance of turning a near disaster into a solid achievement. The baby chick business took a decided slump all during the fall of 1949, and early spring of 1950. Eggs dropped in price. No one wanted baby chicks. We even had to shut down the hatchery. Jack Gattis, the manager of the hatchery for some years, resigned and it took us some time to find his successor . . . There was no market for baby chicks. It takes a lot of broiler houses on farms to develop a broiler industry in any section. One of the chief obstacles to developing a broiler industry in our mountain section has been the individual fanners have had in financing broiler houses. It takes about one square foot per broiler, and you can readily see it's expensive to build a 5,000 square foot broiler house . . . Instead of closing the hatchery, we decided to put on a real campaign to get out the broilers. If we closed the hatchery, our supply flocks would necessarily have no market and we would lose all that we have built up in the past few years . . . We hope that this year, which has been so tough on the hatchery, will result in building a solid foundation for a great broiler industry in the mountains. Our hatchery is coming through the 12 months with a loss. This loss should �442 We Plow God's Fields be a permanent gain to the farm people of Western North Carolina because of the development of a real broiler industry.4 The "solid Foundation" crumbled four years later, in the summer of 1954, when disaster struck the Federation's poultry business. Within a six-month period, the market price for broilers dropped 29 percent, and egg prices dropped 34 percent. The Fund was forced to cover some of these unexpected losses, helping the Federation through a particularly rocky situation. Jim was always proud of the multiplication factor by which the Federation increased the power of the contributor's dollar, but clearly from a business standpoint he had failed to create a self-sustaining poultry, turkey and egg industry in Western North Carolina. The efforts by the Federation to provide freezer space through its territory faced a similar predicament. Jamie Clarke led the stock campaigns to provide capital for these freezer locker plants. Patrons would rent lockers to preserve their meats and vegetables for family use or for sale. The Farmers Federation has now in operation eight Frozen Food Locker plants. These plants offer a twofold opportunity for the mountain farmers, first to develop a frozen food industry in the mountains and second to develop a better diet through using the potential of the freezing process. Research and experiment should be carried on to see what fruits, vegetables and meats will best lend themselves to the development of a frozen food industry. For the second part of this program, every effort should be made to acquaint the mountain farmer with the possibilities of saving and of diet improvement made possible by the freezing process.5 Western North Carolina did not develop a significant frozen food industry for two reasons. First, large established food processing companies took control of this business. Second, soon after the freezer locker plants were built, home freezers came on the market. The entire project gradually became another drain on the resources of the Federation. The Skyline Cooperative Dairy, a subsidiary of the Federation, was organized in order to return to the dairy farmer more of the profits he earned in his barn. Jim McClure had long been interested in the problems of the dairymen of Western North Carolina. Since the thirties, the Blue Ridge Milk Producer's Association had worked to secure fair prices and practices for dairymen from the commercial dairies in the area. In the Craggy section northwest of Asheville the Association owned a small processing plant, the Dairyman's Creamery. The objective of the association was to insure that other dairy plants that bought farmers' milk classified the milk fairly. In 1946, the Federation merged with the Milk Producers' Association and took over the operation of the little Craggy plant. The new joint organization was called the Skyline Dairy Cooperative. Immediately, plans were drawn up and resources gathered to build a large plant, with the capacity to compete with �Last Years 443 the other processors in the region. The new facility was built on Tunnel Road, east of Asheville, and opened in August 1947.6 Jim McClure provided the fanfare. He described the plant as: .. . fitted with the very latest and most modern equipment. The equipment that goes into a modern dairy plant is what might be called a mechanical miracle. Can washers, bottle washers, bottle fillers operate in an almost miraculous way. After this plant gets a little straightened out, we hope our members will all visit it. It was all night work for everyone the night the boys moved into this plant. We saw three of them drink 12 quarts of coffee for breakfast after this all-night job.7 Ten years later the Skyline Cooperative Dairy was still operating, but on a starvation diet of profit. The plant proved to be a heavy drain on the Federation's management and capital resources. Twice Jim McClure sent his assistant, Jamie Clarke, to run the dairy plant for several months to stop losses. Each time he managed to turn loss into profit. Competition of larger dairies was growing. After Jim's death Jamie Clarke arranged for the Federation to sell the plant to Coble Dairy Products Cooperative, which continued to provide a market for local dairy farmers. Innovation was always the strong suit of the Farmers Federation, and Jim was now ready to use the research that had been carried out by E. Parmalee Prentice, at Mount Hope Farm in Williamstown, Massachusetts, to implement the first artificial breeding station in the Southeast. Prentice was a cousin of Elizabeth's, and the McClures had often visited his farm. He made the amazing discovery that the genes for increased milk production come not primarily from the cow, as had been supposed for hundreds of years, but from the bull. To be certain a bull had this property, the milk production of a number of his heifer calves must be compared with that of their dams. Once a bull's ability to transmit significantly higher milk production is established, he is called a "proven sire." Through the system of artificial insemination, such a bull could increase the milk production of a great number of cows. Another advantage of artificial insemination was that it eliminated the need for keeping a bull on individual dairy farms. Dairy bulls tend to be much more savage that those of the beef breeds and Jim knew many a dairy farmer who had been severely gored or even killed by his bull. Parmalee Prentice was a brilliant man of unwavering principle. He discovered through painstaking research that some crossbred bulls, belonging to no recognized breed, might have the magic ability to transmit higher production. He then made up his mind that the entire system of dairy breeds was pointless and should be scrapped. The production of purebred dairy cattle was big business and his attack on the purebred principle infuriated breeders all over America so much that they discounted the whole idea of the proven sire. Parmalee's son, Rockefeller Prentice ("Rocky" to his friends), appreciated �444 We Plow God's Fields Southeastern Artificial Breeding Assoc., January 9, 1948. Left to right: George Lewis, herdsman holding Guernsey bull; Dr. Elliott, N.C. State College specialist in artificial insemination; Joe Wells, Buncombe County Inseminator; Riley Palmer, Buncombe County Farm Agent. his father's remarkable discovery, but realized it could only be put into practice by working with rather than against the purebred breeders. He established a stud farm in Madison, Wisconsin, with purebred bulls of various established breeds who were also proven sires. His father was furious at what he considered a dilution of his scientific discovery by his own son, but Rocky persisted. Jim McClure had followed the situation, through both the son and his parents. When Rocky ran short of funds and his father refused to help him, Jim loaned him money to continue. (The loan came from a gift his mother, Mrs. Prentice, had given to the Educational and Development Fund!) In time Rocky would repay every penny to the Fund. After the war Jim visited the stud farm in Madison. He reported back to the Federation officers that it was a good operation. A month later, plans for the Southeastern Artificial Breeding Association were finalized. They included the installation of " . . . a battery of eighteen proven bulls, six registered Guernseys, six registered Holsteins and six registered Jerseys, on the farm owned by the Educational Fund . . . near the Fairview Warehouse of the Farmers Federation . . . [A] series of meetings is being held to develop county breeding rings. No bull will be placed in this stud unless it has �Last Years 445 been proven by the records of his daughters that this bull transmits high milk production."8 Parmalee Prentice had recently died. Jim went straight up to see his widow, Alta Prentice, who was a sister of John D. Rockefeller, and suggested that this project would be a fitting memorial to her husband. She agreed, and the business was set up with her son Rocky in charge. Jim was thrilled with the results of his negotiations, and wrote to Hetty that "We built the Barn, Laboratory, sheds, etc. with Fund money which Alta had given—and then by a wonderful maneuver, we leased everything to J. Rockefeller Prentice trading as the Southeastern Artificial Breeding Association. Rocky operates the association. The standards are very high and it is the greatest thing that has happened in the Dairy industry in the South since the first cow was milked in 1760" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, February 1, 1948). Jim's enthusiastic prediction proved to be true. At that time the average production of milk per cow in North Carolina was approximately 3,500 pounds a year. The bulls bought by the new stud farm had the capacity to transmit production of up to 10,000 pounds a year to their daughters. The Federation and the Fund promoted artificial breeding in Western North Carolina. Field men were sent into the barnyards to convince dairy farmers that the offspring from this system of breeding would have only one head and not over four legs. Many a stubborn mountain skeptic hung on to his pet bull rather than have his cows serviced with semen produced somewhere else. But Joe Wells of Leicester set a record by being the first association technician to breed 10,000 cows on the first breeding service, having first talked these farmers into trusting him. His work and that of others like him followed the efforts of Jim McClure and the Fund to pioneer in the South a procedure that has revolutionized the dairy industry. When the technology for frozen semen became practical in 1954, the American Breeders Service closed down the Fairview barn and the entire Southeast was served with semen shipped by air from bulls in Indianapolis.9 By 1983, the average yearly milk production per cow in Western North Carolina was more than 14,000 Ibs., quadruple the figure for 1950. Jim had already helped to bring in burley tobacco, the leading cash crop in the mountains. Since 1930, when the first warehouse was built in Asheville for burley, it had been a dependable crop. Demand increased rapidly for tobacco products during and after World War II. As a result, the Federation opened up a second warehouse, and both of them were profitable operations set up to offer the farmer a place to sell where he could be sure of an honest settlement. "Bring the Children With You—They Will Want to Hear the Auctioneer IMPORTANT Do Not Sell Your Tobacco . . . to Tin-Hookers' on Your Way to the Warehouse. Display Your Tobacco on the Sales Floor and Get the Highest Possible Dollar." advised an ad in the Federation News.10 In the parlance of the tobacco market, a colorful institution that still flourishes in Asheville, the "pinhooker" was a sly trader who would buy a man's tobacco from him so that he would not have to wait until the time of the auction for his money. Unscrupulous pinhookers were known to pull off a "hand" of tobacco here or there, drop it on the �446 We Plow God's Fields floor, and sweep them up together and sell them for some easy money. The other tobacco auctions often attracted patent medicine salesmen and other hucksters, and since the warehouses were usually cold, bottles of spirits were frequently passed from hand to hand. But Jim McClure made every effort to insure the honesty of the Federation warehouses, and many farmers traded there because of the organization's ethical reputation. Those people who understand the intricacies of this market best remember Jim McClure above all for one accomplishment: bringing a second set of buyers to the Asheville market. Having two buyers from each of the tobacco companies put the Asheville market on an equal footing with its competitors in Eastern Tennessee. Two sets of buyers made it possible to have sales in two warehouses on the same day. This shortened the long lines of farmers' trucks waiting to be unloaded and made it possible for growers to get quick sales. Faster sales meant not only less waiting by the farmers, but also less chance for the perishable crop to dry out and change color while waiting in the warehouse. More tobacco sold in Asheville helped the banks, where the farmers deposited much of their cash; the local merchants, who made big sales during the tobacco marketing season at Christmas; and the warehousemen themselves. Jim worked for five years before the second buyers came to Asheville. In 1949, he enlisted North'Carolina congressmen and senators for an all-out assault on the problem. He went to Washington to meet with Secretary of Agriculture Brannon, who promised to help out. When the latter failed to keep his word, Jim unloaded his frustrations in the Federation News. " . . . Mr. Brannon went off to South America before this assistance came through."11 But Jim did not give up. He worked through individuals in the tobacco companies themselves. The 1954 market had been open just a few days when a second buyer from one company appeared, next day another and then the full set. Jim McClure's persistence had once again paid off handsomely for the mountain farmer. The Federation was involved in mountain tobacco in two other ways as well. Each year, the Farmers Federation was designated by the federal government to administer the price support program for the Asheville, Boone and West Jefferson burley markets. If a man's tobacco failed to bring the minimum price set for each grade, the Farmers Federation, as the agent for the Commodity Credit Corporation, would purchase it at the support price. It was then dried and stored and later resold, hopefully when off-season prices had risen.12 The second effort by the Federation was to promote the growing of Turkish aromatic tobacco, a high-priced imported variety that was suited to Western North Carolina. This crop was even more labor intensive than burley, because the leaves matured at different times and were much smaller. But the prices for Turkish tobacco were high, and farmers were not restricted by government allotments as to how much they could grow. The Fund hired field men to teach the mountain farmers how to cultivate this new crop, but in the end Turkish tobacco proved to be too much work for the return, a sign that the new economic opportunities in the mountains had raised the value of the farmer's own time. �Last Years 447 Even though Turkish tobacco did not take hold in the mountains, it showed that Jim McClure was not allowing his imagination and drive to lapse with his increasing age. A more successful idea he implemented with Fund money was to develop a cut flower industry in Western North Carolina. He brought Charles Tillinghast, a Harvard horticultural graduate, down to experiment with large scale gladioli culture. Mr. Tillinghast helped prove that there was money to be made in the business, and gladioli have been grown in the mountains ever since. For most farms, specialty crops would be the wave of the future. Large quantities of grain staples could be grown more cheaply in the Midwest, where the geography was more conducive to highly mechanized and capitalized farming. During the fifties, the average acreage cultivated by the American farmer skyrocketed, sending ripples of change down to Western North Carolina. At the same time, industrial jobs became more and more available throughout the region, and agriculture became more of an after work occupation than a source of principal livelihood for a family. The Farmers Federation, originally formed to devise ways to bring cash to the small independent farmer, increasingly found its traditional role undermined by the new economic world of post-war America. By the time of Jim McClure's death in 1956, his successor and son-in-law, Jamie Clarke, recognized the need to trim out many of the Federation's unprofitable operations, and three years later to find a merger partner to place the business in a viable financial position. One facet of the Federation absorbed all of these changes in a much different way. Dumont Clarke continued to promote the Lord's Acre Movement, which after twenty years had now spread around the globe. In North Carolina, the new sources of wages increased the ability of church members to tithe cash rather than produce, and so Dumont added a new wrinkle known as the Lord's Hour to his program. Each worker was to pledge the first hour each week for his Creator, donating that money to his church. In reporting to the Federation stockholders at the annual meeting in 1951, Dumont expressed his belief that the work had "come of age." More churches than ever before took part in the Lord's Acre work in 1950. Reports have again come from Maine on the Atlantic to Oregon on the Pacific, with many fine ones in Western North Carolina . . . The Lord's Acre Movement... is bound to grow. The need for it has never been greater. It is becoming increasingly obvious that the only way to overcome the forces which are destroying moral and spiritual life is through a far more thorough Christian training. By this I mean training our church people, young and old, really to discipline themselves . . . for the fulfillment of every Christian duty . . . One of the most notable comments which was made last year was by the newly-elected head of one of the important denominations in America, who is also a missionary about to return to Africa. Upon working for hours with others harvesting a Lord's Acre field of potatoes in Farmers Federation territory, he said, "I go back to Africa, where I have spent the last 25 years as a missionary, �nt • • 11 ^•f^V:".* y £ J ™/^ -Pi; Top: Lord's Acre Sunday School Project. Bottom: The Lord's Hour. .' �Last Years 449 with a new method and a new inspiration. The Lord's Acre will fit like a glove Africa's need for bringing Christ into all of life."13 In an era where fears of communism set the national tempo, the work of Dumont Clarke was seen as a constructive bulwark for freedom, democracy and Christianity. In 1949, "Progressive Farmer" magazine awarded him its highest honor, "The Man of the Year in North Carolina Agriculture." In 1951 he was both the "Rural Minister of the Year in North Carolina" and "Man of the Year in Service to Southern Agriculture." The venerable editor, Clarence Poe, who had written one of the books on which Jim based the Farmers Federation, wrote this about Dumont Clarke. "It is our hope that this "Man of the Year" recognition of the incalculable values of the Lord's Acre Movement, so long promoted by the man whom we now delight to honor, will cause many another Southern church to start a successful Lord's Acre plan in 1952."14 In 1955, the twenty fifth anniversary of the Lord's Acre, Princeton University presented him with an honorary degree for his work. The two brothers-in-law, back in 1930, had dreamed of an organization that would breathe life into the rural church, raising a generation of men and women strengthened both by their rural upbringing and the Christian virtues. The hope was that as these people moved to towns or cities, or organized their own communities, the values implanted by the Lord's Acre program would be manifested in their new surroundings. Dumont's son and Jim's daughter, Jamie and Elspeth, moved out to Hickory Nut Gap when they were released from the Navy in the Fall of 1945. Elspeth presented her father and mother with their first grandchild on December 3, 1946. Susie Skinner Clarke, named for Elizabeth's mother, was the first of eight children born to these two cousins. The sadness of the sudden death of Jamie's mother, Annie Clarke, came just three days after the joy of Susie's birth. Annie had been a cheerful and game helpmeet to Dumont, and her going left the big white house at 392 Charlotte Street very empty for Dumont and Monty, his older son, who worked at the Federation Garden Shop. Elizabeth adored having the baby, Susie, in the house and described her as " . . . jolly and cute and good natured with a dimple in each cheek and very blue eyes" (Elizabeth Cramer McClure to Harriet McClure, February 12, 1947). In the spring Jamie and Elspeth moved into the house just across the garden, which Elizabeth had helped them design. The lumber was a gift from Hickory Nut Gap Farm. During the winter of 1947 Jim had a hernia operation, his second, at the urging of his close friend Dr. Pinkney Herbert. While he was recovering, his ever generous sister Hetty sent along a check to cover all the medical expenses. He thanked her by replying: It is the established rule at the Mission Hospital that they will not let a patient go home until his bill is paid— Just as I was worrying myself into a relapse, as to how I could ever get out �450 We Plow God's Fields of the Hospital, your air mail letter arrived this morning—as a consequence I have had the best day I have enjoyed at this hospital. Hetty—it is a huge check—and you never should have done it. But it is such a welcome check—you just can't imagine. It is not only the immediate relief but the easing up for some weeks ahead, of Realizing that the horrible Bill is Paid. I had two operations and have had to have a nurse much longer than I expected, so my gratitude is very, very keen . .. It now looks as if I might have to remain at the Hospital until Friday—I am tip top, but my age is not what it once was, and the Doc wants to take no chances— (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, February 26, 1947) Not long afterwards, Elizabeth too was laid up in the hospital. She had been in the attic, and was crossing a platform that bridged the stairway, her arms full of boxes, when she slipped. Elspeth found her mother in a heap at the bottom of the steep steps. Jim wrote to Hetty, "Darling Siddy had a bad fall on Weds the 21st, falling from the attic down those stairs, the result is that she is still in the Hospital with five cracked and broken ribs. Luckily Elspeth was in the house at the time . . . [T]here are no internal injuries, they say, and it is just a matter of time, but she has been very uncomfortable, because every move of any kind has been painful, even a cough or a laugh" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, February 11, 1948). Again Hetty helped her brother with a check to cover the hospital expenses. Elizabeth's recovery was quite slow and painful, although the stoic in her rarely allowed the discomfort to pierce through to worry others. Hetty and Doug sent another check so that she could spruce up the farm for spring, to lift her spirits. The first check came to clean up the boxwood nursery. Mr. "Coon" Reed, a local Fairview favorite, was hired then and there to complete that chore. Then a second check arrived to redecorate the living room, a project Elizabeth had been pining to accomplish. "Siddy has already sent for samples—It is many long years since the living room was dressed up" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, April 5, 1948). Preparations were also underway for a second grandchild, due later in the summer. But in spring, Elizabeth had her flowers as the strongest tonic of all. The Shorters, John and Mathilda, were slowing with age, but they remained at Hickory Nut Gap as beloved and devoted servants. Mathilda's health removed her from the kitchen post, a gastronomical disaster for the McClures, but John toiled faithfully on. Jim and Elizabeth employed a lively young woman with a fourteen-year-old daughter, Elzina and June Gibson, to take Mathilda's place. John Shorter kept up his daily round of chores, hand-milking the two cows down at the barn, weeding the various gardens, and repairing and mending in the workshop. His presence in the kitchen was so fixed that the table there was always referred to simply as "John's table." After milking, he would emerge from the dairy barn carrying the pails of steaming milk, and walk them up the hill to the spring house. He always wore big boots that were rarely tied, so that as he passed through the porch to the old kitchen he could slip them off �Last Years 451 and head for his table in stocking feet. Rev. David Huntley, a most deliberate and careful man, had taken over John's chauffeuring chores. He, too, was growing older, but remained a faithful member of the household. The end of April 1948 loomed ahead as a particularly hectic time for the McClures. Elizabeth was still recovering from her attic fall of the past February, but she was not the kind to make any request to curtail their busy schedule. On May first, the newly created North Carolina Symphony was coming to Asheville for its spring concert. The idea of a state orchestra supported by both public and private funds was a novel one, and helped to give credence to the idea that North Carolina contained the South's most progressive citizenry. Jim stood behind the symphony with the resources of the Fund, his personal influence, most importantly, with his talent for "chex appeal." No one looked forward more to these performances than did Elizabeth, who had had her regular diet of fine music severely curtailed since moving to Western North Carolina. She knew the state symphony would be a new source of beauty for the people of North Carolina, a beauty that would be a curative balm to the routine frustrations and calamities that drained the spirit. The symphony came to play for the school children as well, so that this particular expression of divinity could become a natural part of their education. A dinner honoring the orchestra and its local supporters was largely a McClure arrangement, and was to be held that year on April 30, the night preceding the concert. That same evening, two friends of Ambrose and Mary Cramer's were arriving at the Asheville railroad station. The new kitchen help, Elzina and June, had chosen this moment to take a vacation, and needed a ride to the bus station. So on the night of the symphony dinner, David Huntley drove Elzina and June, Elizabeth and her pregnant daughter Elspeth into Asheville from Hickory Nut Gap. The schedule was a bit tight, but there was never any hurry to Mr. Huntley. Once in town, Elspeth switched cars with her father to run June and Elzina on to the bus station, from whence she was to proceed down to the railroad station to meet her mother and pick up the Cramer friends. Then there was to be a big rush over to the symphony dinner. In all the hurry, Elspeth slid through a stop sign on her way to the station, and another car crashed into her. Elizabeth, a stanch supporter of the "slow and easy" school of pregnancy, had her worst fears confirmed when news finally reached the station as to why her daughter was so delayed in meeting her. Elspeth was virtually unharmed after the impact, but Elizabeth found it difficult to suppress a growing anxiety about her prospective grandchild. Her own doctor had, after all, forbade motoring altogether when she was pregnant. Nevertheless, the plans for the evening were eventually carried out, and everyone returned to Hickory Nut Gap exhausted by all the excitement. Early the next morning, with her help off on the bus jaunt, Elizabeth slipped out of bed to prepare breakfast for her brother's friends. She called Elspeth to see if she was quite all right, and then asked if Betty Huntley, who was helping on Saturdays with the baby, might come up to give the guests their �452 We Plow God's Fields breakfast trays. With characteristic sensitivity she did not want them to think she had gone to any trouble for them. Betty remembers that morning. . . . [W]hen I walked into the old kitchen door, she didn't say anything. I called to her, and I just turned around to hang up my sweater. I heard her come into the old kitchen, and when I turned around I saw something was wrong, and I understood her to say, "If I could just get the coffee." She made it back in the kitchen [where] she slumped over, and I caught her from behind around the waist. I laid her over the shelf until I could reach out my foot and pull a chair up.15 Jim was at that moment talking on the telephone, telling someone about Elspeth's accident. Betty hurried to tell him what had happened. He dropped the receiver and rushed to his wife's side. She was already unconscious and Betty ran down to the barn to tell John Shorter, who was milking the cows. He came hurrying up, as fast as an old man with his boot laces all untied can go. Jamie Clarke was bringing in the wood for a cheery breakfast fire. He dropped the wood and ran to the kitchen. They carried Elizabeth into the study and laid her on the sofa where Elspeth found her, and Mathilda, too, hurried up from her house. Dr. Herbert was out of town, and Dr. Charles Hensley rushed out to Fairview. Elizabeth never recovered consciousness and died before the ambulance arrived. She had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage that morning in her kitchen, leaving behind her husband and daughter quickly and painlessly. Elizabeth Cramer McClure died on May first, the old festival day honoring the beauty of flowers and the mystery of creation. The grace with which she infused her life had nurtured Jim's talents for more than thirty years, just as his own exuberance continually stimulated her imagination. She balanced his impetuous bustle with her calm elegance, reminding him by her presence of the pursuit of excellence. She was never the stiff society girl, bound up by the rules and regulations of proper behavior, but nevertheless exhibited in her daily activities the spirit of grace that is the source of such a code. Her wisdom and humor, her perception and quest of beauty made her the sort of woman others are drawn to emulate. Her sudden death was a dreadful shock for Jim. He and Elspeth went into the dining room to make plans. Both of them agreed that she should be buried nearby, because they could not bear to have her grave far off in Lake Forest. The immediate family had to be contacted. Hetty and Doug left Chicago almost immediately. They offered to purchase the stone and the plot for Elizabeth, which they did. Rocky Prentice and his wife Abby drove all night to reach the farm. Hickory Nut Gap soon filled with friends and admirers of Elizabeth. Her friends in the Garden Club made a blanket of laurel in bloom for the casket. The funeral ceremonies were the celebration of the accumulated wealth of one woman's friendships, and her legacy of excellence. A flood of letters poured into Hickory Nut Gap, and Jim and Elspeth waded �Last Years 453 into the mountain of replies by trying to describe the qualities that had filled Elizabeth's life. Jim wrote many variations of a letter that went like this: Elspie and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your kind message of sympathy. Your letter brings comfort and strength to us. Elizabeth enlarged our lives with her radiant personality, and opened our minds to the sources of beauty in the life around us. She had the extraordinary quality of somehow creating life and warmth wherever she went. She lived with no retarding thought of self. She lived with such freshness and faith and gaiety that unconsciously she added to the world's store of courage and steadfastness. What she was and is bears witness to a goodness in life that enriches it forever. We have been wonderfully blessed by her life and will strive to go forward as she would have us ... (James G. K. McClure, Jr., May 28, 1948) Going forward had always been Jim's reaction to adversity, but after thirtytwo years of marriage, being suddenly without Elizabeth's counsel and without her eagerness to hear about his daily adventures, the readjustment in his life was overwhelming. Elspeth and Jamie moved across the garden to the big house the day the last relatives left, to do whatever they could to keep the place going. New life continued to replace the old. In August, Elspeth had a son, James Gore King McClure Clarke. If the name was a bit cumbersome, it nonetheless honored the memory of a distinguished line of men. The momentum of Jim's life kept him busy. He remained the president of the Farmers Federation, continuing to travel north each year on behalf of the Educational and Development Fund. At home he was asked to come on one committee after another. Mrs. Edward Dameron, a remarkably capable woman who had been an executive at Lord and Taylor in New York, had come to Asheville, and Jim hired her on as a public relations assistant. For many years following she was a tremendous help to Jim and later to Jamie Clarke. In 1949, at the request of Governor Kerr Scott, Jim served as Western North Carolina Chairman for passage of a $20 million State Bond issue for construction of rural roads. The bond issue passed largely due to the big majority it received in the Western counties. Although Jim was a lifelong Republican, Democratic leaders frequently turned to him for help. The same year, the Buncombe County Commissioners asked him to serve as Chairman of a Citizens Committee for Better Schools. The challenge was enormous. Ever since the bankruptcy of the county in 1930, school construction had practically come to a halt. In twenty-two years, only one new school had been built. Since the county essentially dropped its financial responsibilities for capital improvements for schools, many local groups had tried to raise money on their own. The result was a patchwork quilt of tax districts. The school buildings themselves, for the most part, were crumbling edifices under the control of highly partisan local committees, which exercised the primary powers of hiring and firing personnel. The results were predictable. More often than �454 We Plow God's Fields not, bitter factions had grown up vying for control of the school and its patronage jobs. Teachers and principals, even janitors and cooks, were necessarily caught up in the rivalry and forced to bend to the arbitrary rules of these committees, or lose their jobs. In 1949, these schools, often with obsolete structures and poorly qualified personnel, were poised on the edge of the greatest influx of children the county had ever witnessed, the post-war baby boom. The tasks of public education were enormous, but first the in-fighting had to be curtailed to permit constructive planning. With characteristic thoroughness, Jim McClure became absorbed with the subject of public education. He delivered his Pen and Plate Club paper that year on the subject, "A Look at the Public Schools of the United States." He began by tracing the national passion for education back to its colonial roots, and then challenged his listeners to a new vision of the scope of public education. "It may be that character education is more important than intellectual education ..." he said. "Almost nothing is being done along the line of character education. There are reservoirs of human strength which, it seems to me, are practically untapped by our educational system. The driving force which is generated by dedication to a purpose is something that we have hardly commenced to get hold of in our educational system. The development of character and purpose and initiative have been scarcely touched."16 Although Jim went to work to build school buildings, he never lost sight of the ideals and purpose of education. His Citizens' Committee was formed to study the needs of the Buncombe County Schools. He conscientiously sifted through the muddle of school districts and financing schemes. His committee resolved unanimously to attack the most glaring problems facing local public education. He announced in his report that the county should assume all of the outstanding debts in the various school districts and establish a uniform county-wide tax rate to pay off this indebtedness, and that the citizens of Buncombe county should be offered the chance to vote in a five and one-half million dollar bond issue for immediate construction. With one bold stroke, the county could reassert its authority over the schools, face the expansion that was imminent and place the school system on a firm and progressive financial base. But would the voters back such a plan? "Debt" was a word laden with anxieties to the generation who had grown up during the thirties, as was the notion of increasing the public debt in a county that was still trying to pay for its failure of 1930. The consolidation of all the high school students into six schools meant the loss of the older students to numerous local all grade schools. Shifting community identity would be a severe jolt to Buncombe's citizens. Opposition to the Citizens' Committee was fierce, and the political contest created its share of rancor. The "no" crowd had only to conjure up the old fears. But new schools were desperately needed, and the PTA, the League of Women Voters, local industries, and the educational community all pulled together with the Citizens' Committee to win the vote. The Asheville morning paper reported that: �Last Years 455 The Challenge Is Met By a decisive margin Buncombe County has voted in a new day for public education—a new day of safe and sound buildings, more room for more children and more teachers, school equipment which will equalize opportunity for every child in Asheville and Buncombe. This is what the consolidation of the debt and the approval of the $5.5 million bond issue mean .. . From the very beginning the Citizens' Committee for Better Schools kept faith with this undertaking. Representative citizens worked long months .. . on a plan which would be submitted to the voters. No two men worked harder than Mr. J. G. K. McClure, the chairman, and State Senator Frank M. Parker. When they became convinced of the worthiness of the program they carried their convictions to the people in countless forums and in tireless measure. They . . . are owed a debt of gratitude by the people of Buncombe.17 The campaign in Buncombe County received wide attention across the country, because nearly every American community faced the same demographic circumstances. As the result of his victory, Jim McClure was invited to join the National Citizens Commission for Public Schools. This group published a booklet entitled "How Can Citizens Help Their Schools?" In it the committee chose to describe the tactics Jim had employed in Buncombe County, right down to the PTA parade the day before the election. After the election was over, Jim kept the fire hot. The Citizens' Committee was made permanent, and invited ninety-two additional people to join it. He wanted to maintain the progressive momentum that he had helped to build up. The numerous members were divided up into committees, such as special education, visual and audio-visual aids, spiritual emphasis and character building, health, corrective speech, and recreation. As the direct result of all of these efforts, Asheville was named one of eleven All-American Cities for 1951, for its example of "citizen teamwork in government." The presentation of the award swelled local pride, and 3,000 people were on hand for the ceremony in the city auditorium. Jim McClure really enjoyed a good fight, and rarely in his life was the public acclaim so resounding. Roy Larsen, the president of Time, Inc. and the chairman of the National Citizens Commission for the Public Schools, came to present the award. He admitted in his speech that the visit was also " . . . an opportunity . . . to visit another man whom I have long admired and have had the privilege of working with for several years, your Chairman, Jim McClure."18 Jim could count many such friendships, and in a real sense the work of his life was his Mends. From his earliest days in theological school, he knew he possessed a rare gift of influence, and felt the best use of this gift would be to draw people together to pursue worthwhile goals. As a leader, he would define the purposes, design a promotional appeal, and then seek out the most influential or "strongest" men and women, as he liked to put it, to carry out the plan. Whether it was building a warehouse in Clay County, or raising money in New �456 We Plow God's Fields York, he built his work on the basis of friendships. These relationships were important to him, and he worked hard to keep them sincere. Each of his efforts was built up by a sense of camaraderie not unlike the esprit de corps he admired in a successful athletic team. To him, success was the result of the spiritual sense of unity that develops in a group of people who have a shared purpose. Jim lived for that sweet emotion of shared victory after the struggle that comes when men and women are committed to each other to endure and win. In 1954, Jim McClure turned seventy. The same year, one of his oldest friends and supporters, Thomas J. Watson, turned eighty. Jim's letter to him on that occasion reveals this sense of friendship. Dear Tom: Your 80th birthday presents an opportunity to me to tell you how much your 80 years has meant to the world and to me personally. The world is a better place because you have lived in it, and I personally have tried to be a better man because of the inspiration of your life. At all times and everywhere you have eternally kept on striving to improve the material and the spiritual condition of mankind. You have done this in a big and organized way, and at the same time in a remarkable way you have kept a constant realization of the individual needs of thousands of people whom you know. Your influence has always been for good. You have carried your immense responsibilities and burdens lightly, and at all times have added a creative touch for the solution of any problem presented to you. Your leadership has brought blessings in many, many different fields. I just want to point out that your willingness to back up and sponsor our movement here in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina has brought a new power of accomplishment and a new strength of purpose to thousands of mountain people whom you have never seen and whom you do not know. This is the kind of contribution which you have made in many areas. Your generous, creative, staunch life has added to the reservoir of good in the world and helped lift mankind to a higher level. I send you my warmest congratulations on your 80th birthday. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Thomas J. Watson, February 2, 1954) In Tom Watson's simple reply, one senses the importance of friendship in the methods of Jim McClure. Dear Jim: Your deeply touching and cordial letter on the occasion of my eightieth birthday helped to make the day a very pleasant one, and I send my best thanks to you for this thoughtful expression of your friendship. Your letter prompted many happy memories of our friendship during the past 30 years and the many pleasures which this friendship has brought to the members of the Watson family. Yours has been a life of Christian endeavor which has benefitted countless numbers of people. In the unselfish devotion you have given to the cause of underprivileged peoples, you have erected a monument which will stand for all time. �Last Years 457 The members of the Watson family are grateful for your friendship and we join in sending you our affection and warmest wishes. (Thomas J. Watson to James G. K. McClure, Jr., March 8, 1954) Jim's new status as a widower, a very charming and handsome one at that, made him a much sought-after companion. There are never enough widowers to go around and Jim enjoyed the close friendship of several women. Elizabeth Izard, a lovely woman and a longtime family friend, understood and appreciated the people of the mountains as he did. She arranged for the Federation's Handicraft Department to be largely taken over by the Biltmore Country Market, which she had founded with the help of other members of the French Broad River Garden Club. This business brought together talented mountain women, standards of high quality, and a successful marketing outlet. Helen McDonald, in New York, had helped generously in the work of the Fund. As Jamie Clarke was able to take over more of the day-to-day operations of the Federation Jim had a little more time for vacations, and Helen enticed him down to the Bahamas several times. Peggy Hitchcock, widow of the noted polo player Tommy Hitchcock, was another friend with whom Jim had great fun. Once he visited her at Beaumaris in Canada, and they drove down to visit the American Ambassador in Ottawa—the Honorable Douglas Stuart and his wife, Harriet. Jim was very proud of the recognition given to his brother-in-law, and the way his sister managed her new responsibilities. Both Helen McDonald and Peggy Hitchcock visited Hickory Nut Gap Farm and attended Federation Picnics. They were good sports travelling in crowded cars with Elspeth and the children, and riding the farm horses. Occasionally Jim had to dodge an admirer. The summer after Elizabeth's death Harriet and Doug Stuart invited him to go on a European trip. They looked up a Belgian lady who had been kind to their son Bob during the war. She was reported to be enormously wealthy and Jim thought she might be a prospect for the Fund. He turned on the charm and Madame DuBosque took a great fancy to him. Before long she turned up in America and came to visit "Jeem" on his farm. A dark, striking woman, she wore rustling black taffeta, cinched at the waist by a money belt. Jim drove her around to see the Federation enterprises, always taking care to have Jamie's brother, Monty, accompany them as chaperone. Whenever Mr. Dave Snelson, a director from Leicester, saw Jim after that he would mockingly drawl, "How's that Belgian woman?"19 Jim had intended in his life to forgo the pleasures of wealth, and he was left in his last years with only a small salary from the Federation and the Fund. Elizabeth's inheritance had begun to pay dividends, but this money was willed to Elspeth and she used it to keep house at Hickory Nut Gap. Doug and Hetty Stuart, understanding the situation, sent him a monthly check to help defray his personal expenses. He confided to Jamie Clarke that he gave this money regularly to the Federation to reimburse the cooperative for a loss its hatchery had sustained in a disputed settlement with the Quaker Oats Company relating to �458 We Plow God's Fields diseased hatching eggs. Of course Doug and Hetty had no idea that he was doing this. Doug Stuart always remained a loyal friend and after Jim's death he made a generous addition to the Lord's Acre endowment. Jim's letters arrived frequently in Lake Forest full of tales of mountain life, to be savored by the Stuarts. "We have a skunk under the house and the country people tell us that when a skunk takes up with you under the house—no one in the house has a cold. For that reason we are debating whether to try and trap him or keep him, and all at the moment favor being hospitable to our winter visitor" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, February 18, 1954). The redoubtable Dottie Settles (Clinard's sister) had returned after many years away to manage the kitchen at Hickory Nut Gap, and her husband Claude Hall took over many chores that John Shorter could no longer perform. Dottie and Claude approved of the skunk. They had once kept a deodorized pet skunk in their house, and loved all their animals—dogs, cats and goats. But they loved Elspeth and Jamie's children, too, and put their best efforts into entertaining guests at Hickory Nut Gap. Jim's public life remained full and varied during these last years. He wrote, "Yesterday we had our 17th picnic and last county picnic of the season— Tomorrow we have an employees' supper and picnic—This is employees & families and last year over 700 turned up. Then Tuesday a chicken supper for the school principals & their families & then we are through our schedule" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to the Stuarts, August 15, 1954). Each fall, in cooperation with the North Carolina Extension Service, Jim hosted a 100 Bushel Corn Luncheon for the most successful corn growers in Western North Carolina. The next month he was entertaining a large crowd at the Waldorf Astoria farmer's picnic. .. . [A]t the moment we have 104 tables reserved so it looks like 900-1000 people. Also we decided to have a Picnic at Philadelphia as the Fiddlers will come up that way—so on Friday, Nov. 10 we have the Philadelphia Picnic at the Barclay Hotel and that appears to be a sell out—all this is a lot of trouble to raise some money, but since I have no alumni it seems about the only way . . . Marjorie Lloyd-Smith has suddenly decided to get a pony and give it as a floor prize. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, October 29, 1950) In the meantime his daughter's progeny had increased to five, two girls and three boys. Susie, nine, and little Jim, eight, were special allies of their grandfather. All these children kept Hickory Nut Gap lively, and Jim enjoyed teaching the two oldest to ride horseback. Though he was now seventy, he urged Jamie and Elspeth to take a January trip to England and Scotland, just the two of them. He volunteered to look after the children, with Mathilda and John's faithful help. He gloated about his success to Hetty. "I had the greatest luck with the children. They kept well the whole time—25 days times 5 children—125 child days and not a sniffle!" (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, January 31, 1955). As these children grew older the McClure era of Hickory Nut Gap �Top: 100 bushel corn lunch, 1956. Bottom: Family Christmas card, 1953. Left to right: Jim, Annie, Jim McClure; Dumont, Elspeth, Susie and Jamie Clarke. �460 We Plow God's Fields began to fade away. No one single man epitomized the old order more than John Shorter. It was during the summer of 1955 that his enlarged heart finally gave out. John Shorter died last Thursday afternoon, passing away peacefully with no pain after a heart attack about noon. Fortunately—Elspie called me—and I got home about a half hour before he died. The funeral was Sunday afternoon at 2 o'clock and what a funeral: Preacher Huntley made an extra good talk. I paid a tribute to John, as you know he was the finest kind of man—honest through & through—no short cuts—kind, good—all Christlike qualities—the little church was jammed with colored and white—It was very touching—John had been with us 39 years. (James G. K. McClure, Jr. to Harriet Stuart, June 22, 1955) Earlier that spring Jim had made the decision to slow down a little himself, and one afternoon in May he started home early to go for a ride with his granddaughter, Susie. On the way, he thought he must have dozed off for a minute. Whatever the cause, his car ran off the road, and although it did not overturn it struck a boulder with such violence that some vertebrae in Jim's back were broken. Dr. Herbert put him in a cast from his hips to his neck. In the hospital Jim confided to Elspeth that Dr. Herbert had found a weakness in his heart years before, when Jim was in his thirties, and had advised him then to slow way down and take care of himself. Even now, in his cast, Jim hardly slowed down. He insisted on attending all the picnics, only conceding the afternoon program to Jamie Clarke so that he could rest half the day. Betty Huntley, his secretary, drove him to and from the picnics and remembers how painful the curving mountain roads were for him. In the fall he went north on his campaign and raised the largest total ever, with some help from Jamie Clarke. The Educational and Development Fund was now well endowed. Back home for Christmas with the family, Elspeth was expecting a sixth child, and early in January the doctor told her it would be twins. This news considerably startled the prospective parents and they decided to keep it a secret from all but the family until the safe arrival of the babies. A few days before the due date Elspeth went to Asheville to buy some last supplies. Every other person she met exclaimed about the expected twins! The news was too exciting for Jim to keep! He loved to tell people that Elspeth and Jamie had moved in to keep him company and now he "was hanging on by his eyelashes!"20 Ambrose and William ("Bobo and Billy") did arrive safely, brown eyed, healthy and identical. Jim went off to the Bahamas, minus his brace, and returned refreshed to a new round of meetings. Luther Hodges, the governor of North Carolina, was coming to address the annual Federation stockholders meeting and Jim was putting on a dinner for him afterwards. The big yearly meeting of the Citizen's Committee for Better Schools soon followed. Then Jim went to New York to attend a dinner given by Arthur Page, for so many years Chairman of the Trustees of the Educational and Development Fund, for the �Last Years 461 "people he worked for." When Mr. Page had retired from the Bell Telephone Company, he had opened a consulting office and many famous people availed themselves of his remarkable wisdom. This was Jim's last trip. When he returned to North Carolina it was Dumont Clarke who first noticed that there was something different—something wrong with him. He sent out the alarm to Hetty. My dear Harriet: You will wish to know this, I am sure . . . Jim has been looking badly; especially following his recent visit to New York and to you in Canada (although he has since received some very encouraging contributions . . . his condition seems physical rather than one of mental anxiety). He had planned to go to the Mission Hospital for his third operation for hernia on this Wednesday the 9th, but he has come down with a rather severe case of bronchitis and was sent to the hospital this morning. It looks as though he would be there—recovering from his operation till the 26th or 28th [of May]. We are much concerned for him, and trust that he will regain a full measure of strength. (Dumont Clarke to Harriet Stuart, May 7, 1956) A week later, Dumont's prognosis was even more discouraging. Dear Harriet: This is strictly confidential so far as Asheville people, or others outside of the family are concerned. I saw Jim this morning for one minute with regard to a possible successor. He looks very badly. His vision is blurred. He can speak only with great difficulty. Notwithstanding this, Elspie says that Dr. Crow states that Jim's heart is in "good" condition. I think you will wish to know this, and to be kept posted. (Dumont Clarke to Harriet Stuart, May 14, 1956) Jim suffered a series of small strokes on the following day at the hospital. Elspeth spent all possible time with him and loyal friends, among them Elizabeth Izard, Mr. H.A. Haseltine, principal of a private school, and Claude Hall from the farm, came to read to Mm. Harriet and Doug Stuart hurried down to see him after Dumont's second letter. Everyone tried to keep up an optimistic front but Jim was failing fast. As his heart wound down, he slowly lost the remarkable powers of his personality, those powers which he had used to faithfully serve his Creator and to build up a whole region in a way that emphasized the highest spiritual values. Jamie Clarke took his three oldest children to Riverdale, New York, for the exciting wedding of his father, Dumont, to Elizabeth Dodge Huntiiigton, a friend from his youth, whose husband had died some years before. Just after Jamie returned Jim McClure died, June 6, 1956. Dumont and his bride, honeymooning in Maine, hurried south so that he could conduct the funeral service in the Presbyterian church in Asheville, attended by throngs of people from all over Western North Carolina. His death was a shock. He had always seemed younger than his years. �462 We Plow God's Fields Jamie Clarke was elected president by the Directors of the Federation and wrote in the News: Mr. McClure spent his life in building the Farmers Federation. It was his single-minded devotion to the interests of the Federation which, more than any other one factor, was responsible for its growth and the wide range of its help to the people of the mountains. The great message he would leave with us—leave to employees, directors, members and patrons—is to carry the Farmers Federation forward . .. "Others have labored, and ye have entered into their labors."21 An editorial in the Asheville Times concluded by proclaiming, "All who were privileged to know Mr. McClure honor and mourn him today for his many great achievements and for his noble character."22 These statements were public acknowledgements of the devotion of Jim to the good works of citizenship. But the real mourning took place in the hearts of many people, of all social standings: black, Cherokee, mountaineer, and privileged, who counted Jim as their friend. One of the latter, Charles Goodyear, sent this eloquent testimony to Hickory Nut Gap on hearing of the death of a very old friend. When Jamie's telegram was received Sunday afternoon it was such a shock that it is still hard for me to realize that Jim is no longer here. That is because he was such a definite personality and meant so much to me. I have lost my best and dearest friend whom I have known for half a century. Jim and I not only had many happy times together, beginning when we were roommates at Yale, but he always was such a help to me as he was to others during times of trouble. / never knew a more loyal friend. He was tolerant of the frailties of others. He never made it obvious that his character and Christian life had influence on so many people. I have often said that Jim was my ideal of a true Christian. (Italics in original) (Charles Goodyear to Elspeth Clarke, June 19, 1956) Jim's character had been developing through his nearly seventy-two years on earth. That character and its power to influence other people is what Jim always meant when he complimented others for building up the stores of courage within the human community. Character is achieved through personal struggle, and Jim had won this spiritual battle. As Jim had said of others, he, too, built up the stores of courage within the human community. But he would have been the first to admit that the strengths of his own family, the Dixons, the McClures, and most of all the influence of Elizabeth were all greatly responsible for whatever he might have accomplished. He hoped to pass on to others in his family and community the historic strengths he had inherited and that had so inspired his own life. Jim McClure always believed men and women should be judged by how they managed their own birthrights, and whether they had, in the accounting procedures of life, accumulated or squandered the spiritual resources �Last Years 463 given freely by the grace of Almighty God. Death is never a neat, clean separation from life, and with Jim many loose ends and emotional connections were rudely severed, but in the larger matters of his own conscience, the peace of Jim McClure's death reflected the victory of his life. 1. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "A Great Program Ahead," Fanners Federation News, August 1946, p. 6. 2. Minute book of the Farmers Federation Educational and Development Fund, May 10, 1948, p. 72. 3. Interview with Mr. Fred Moffitt. 4. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Farmers Federation's 30th Year," Farmers Federation News, August 1950, p. 5. 5. Minutes of the Fund, December 12, 1949, p. 4-5. 6. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "The Farmers Federation's 26th Year," Farmers Federation News, August 1946, p. 10. 7. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, September 1947, p. 4. 8. Minutes of the Farmers Federation, August 7, 1947, p. 210. 9. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, April 1954, p. 3. 10. Advertisement in the Farmers Federation News, December 1955. 11. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, December 1950, p. 3. 12. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, December 1954, p. 3. 13. Dumont Clarke, presentation made at the annual meeting of the Farmers Federation, Farmers Federation minutes, March 31, 1951. 14. Clarence Poe, "Clarke is Recognized for Lord's Acre Work," February 1952, p. 23, quoted from "The Progressive Farmer," January, 1952. 15. Interview with Mrs. Betty Huntley Beard. 16. James G. K. McClure, Jr., "A Look at the Public Schools of the United States," speech given at the Pen and Plate Club, Asheville, NC, August 18, 1949. 17. Asheville Citizen, April 20, 1950. 18. Roy Larsen, "The Importance of Schools to a Community," speech given in Asheville, NC, April3, 1952, reprinted in pamphlet form. 19. Interviews with Elspeth McClure Clarke. 20. Ibid. 21. James McClure Clarke, "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, July, 1956, p. 3. 22. Editorial, Asheville Times, June 18, 1956. �Epilogue The Shorters, the Huntleys, the Davidsons, along with the McAbees, the Boones and the Riddles no longer inhabit the cottages of Hickory Nut Gap Farm. Their children and grandchildren live in a vastly different world, where the opportunities for making money, for spending it, for entertainment and education divide the generations from one another. Few of them farm, except on the side, although most retain a fascination for the soil, hoeing faithfully during the hot summer months between their rows of corn and beans. The Farmers Federation died with the passing of the age. The patient remained terminally ill into the sixties, generating in its weakening condition a fair share of vindictive hatred. It was not a painless death. But the passing of the Federation was a victory. The dream of Jim McClure had been fulfilled. There was no need for the farmers to band together for survival anymore. He had helped steer an entire region through the rocky straits of underdevelopment into the larger waters of economic integration with the nation. His efforts helped to transform Western North Carolina almost painlessly from one economy to another, a remarkable sociological case study. Jim McClure appreciated the traditional culture while building for progress, and that, simply put, was the secret of his success. When I talk with the grandsons and granddaughters of Federation members, most tell of a sense of nostalgia for the old ways described by their grandparents, but most are realistic enough not to miss the drudgery and poverty that were endemic to that life. The federal government and the private business sector have worked together to create favorable conditions for the hundreds of manufacturing plants that are scattered now throughout the old Federation territory. The Appalachian Regional Commission has financed a fine system of roads that has ended, finally, the isolation of Western North Carolina. Federal money has helped to build the water and sewer systems that are a prerequisite to industrialization. American businessmen have discovered that the "independent" mountaineer can be as fine a workman as there is anywhere in the country. The Southeastern United States has enjoyed the benefits of a rapidly burgeoning economy since the early sixties, and this time the Southern Appalachians were not left out. So, for better and for worse, the American cultural heroes of sports and television, fast foods, and consumerism are found as readily in the mountains of North Carolina as they are in Southern California. All of these factors contributed to the cause of death for the Farmers Federation. With the passing of Jim McClure in 1956, Jamie Clarke was elected 464 �Epilogue 465 president by the directors. He was determined to place the Federation on a sound financial foundation. He began to prune out unprofitable enterprises, trying to discover a mix that could save the business. He continued to go north each year, and succeeded in getting contributions for the Educational and Development Fund. He knew, though, that the Federation had to be weaned from its dependence on contributions. For the cooperative to survive into the future, it would have to be built on the same business values as any other commercial organization. The spirit of desperation that had pushed his uncle in 1920 into forming a cooperative was now gone, and with it the values of self-sacrifice and unity. There were other problems for the new president as well. With the death of Jim McClure, the founder and president for thirty-six years, management infighting broke out. Some of the older employees had hoped that they might be promoted to the top, and so resented Jamie Clarke's new stature. There were rumors of contrary death bed commitments from Jim McClure, which made the rounds of the Federation's central office. These festering resentments helped to sap the creativity of the management during these last years, just when the challenge for survival was greatest. In June of 1957, Guy Sales resigned as the General Manager. He had worked for the Federation almost from its birth. He had been a tireless taskmaster under Jim McClure, emphasizing always the need to tighten up the business practices of the cooperative. Much of the success over all of these years can be attributed to the daily efforts of Guy Sales. Charles W. Davis assumed the position of General Manager. He was an outstanding poultry farmer who had been involved with the Federation for about twenty years. He became a capable manager, and remained loyal to Jamie Clarke throughout all the troubles ahead.1 The foundation of these troubles was economic. After World War II, agriculture began to decline in comparative importance with other livelihoods in Western North Carolina. What serious farming remained tended to become more specialized. Many growers of single crops organized their own cooperatives, such as the tomato growers and the apple growers. The Federation had always been willing to sell or market nearly anything, but increasingly specialized competition was growing up and beating them out. These trends were at the same time the fulfillment of the goals of the Farmers Federation and the reason for its demise. Jamie Clarke spelled out the problems of the Federation in the Farmers Federation News in February 1959. For some time, there has been apparent a rapid trend toward bigness of agriculture. The growth of the broiler business has been accompanied by large-scale financing and the process called "vertical integration" whereby large companies own their own feed mills, hatcheries, and poultry dressing plants, and finance all broiler and turkey flocks and often hogs and cattle in thefield.. . Your company has been troubled for some time by lack of operating capital and increasing competition from all sides. We are also hampered by the condi- �466 We Plow God's Fields tion of the freezer locker and poultry business, both of which have become impossible for us to cany on. Furthermore, we are at a competitive disadvantage-because we do not own an adequate feed mill or fertilizer mill. The difficulty about this is that the record of the Federation's earnings over the past 15 years is not good enough to justify . . . borrowing. We know of no banking institution which would lend . . . to us.2 The profits squeeze exacerbated management infighting. Jamie Clarke wanted to implement a satisfactory pension plan for the workers, but was unable to do so as long as business suffered. By 1959, he and a majority of the directors decided bold action was imperative, that the Federation needed a merger partner in order to survive. The Farmers Cooperative Exchange (PCX), a much larger North Carolina Agricultural Cooperative, was interested in expanding into the western end of the state. Negotiations between the Federation and PCX were completed early in 1959, and then the fate of the Federation rested with the will of some 7500 stockholders. Under the laws of North Carolina, a vote to dissolve the Farmers Federation had to be conducted differently from the Rochdale plan of one man, one vote. Each stockholder, both holders of common stock and preferred stock, held one vote for each share he or she owned. In order for the Federation-PCX merger to be completed, a favorable two-thirds vote of the shares was required. Opponents to the plan had only to persuade the owners of one-third of the stock to vote nay or not to vote at all. A stockholders meeting was scheduled for February 26, 1959, in a Buncombe County courtroom. For six weeks, the plan was discussed (and cussed!) throughout the coves and hollows of Western North Carolina. Opposition to the proposal centered around a group of management personnel dubbed "the upstairs gang" by General Manager Charlie Davis (a Clarke ally).3 This group was led by Joseph Higdon, manager of the central office; Katherine Bach, his secretary; and 0. J. Holler, a director of long standing from Rutherford County. Mr. Holler probably felt disgruntled after being passed over for the presidency when Jim McClure died. No doubt the jealousies within the management helped to fuel what became a rancorous battle over this issue. Unquestionably, many of these men and women thought they might lose their jobs if the Federation merged with PCX, and they could look forward to almost no pension for their long years of work. The "upstairs gang" staged a series of meetings throughout the Federation's territory, lining up farmers to vote against the merger. They accused Jamie Clarke and the other proponents of the plan of mismanagement and duplicitous dealings, while hinting at enormous payoffs from PCX. They exploited the fact that the owners of common stock would receive PCX stock " . . . only after all monies due the Federation are collected and all debts paid and would probably lose some money," while preferred stockholders would receive equal lO-year four percent debentures in PCX dollar for dollar."4 These preferred stocks had �Epilogue 467 been purchased at a premium, with the legal requirement that the owners would have first access to the assets of the cooperative. By February 26, the emotions surrounding the issue precluded any real dialogue. A last-minute shift from the courthouse to the city auditorium due to the unexpectedly large turnout (about 350 stockholders attended) left groups muttering on the courthouse steps, "declaring the last-minute change in location disqualified the Auditorium session altogether."5 The following account of the meeting is taken from an article by reporter Doug Reed of the Asheville Citizen. The meeting was opened by the Rev. Jack Waldrep who asked that there be "no discussion out of prejudice and temper." The meeting thereafter rapidly proceeded into both realms . . . [The Federation directors] heard themselves branded a "rubber stamp" board that did the bidding of administrative officers . . . The furious opposition to the sale, charging large scale mismanagement and a "sell-out" to PCX, burst into flame as soon as the meeting was called to order The gathering was, in some respects, much like the famed Federation picnics where everybody had his say. There was no band, but it is unlikely it would have found a harmonious note to strike in an air thick with accusations. With Higdon and Attorney Henry C. Fisher bringing sharp rebuke to Federation President Clarke for attempting to limit each speaker to five minutes talking time, a floor motion overwhelmingly granted Fisher all the time he wanted to state his case. Fisher . . . declared that "I can't do it in five minutes and I don't intend to stop in five minutes and you can put your objection in the minutes." The plan, he said, is "not a sale, but a giveaway, with a $500,000 gift wrapped to it." Value of Federation's assets far exceeds in many instances, he said, the book value shown . . . Fisher branded several Federation enterprises in recent years as wild dreams and charged that poor management was to blame for reported losses . .. The stockholders, he said, weren't "attending a merger, you are attending a funeral." "You've got a good business that's in the hands of management that cannot and will not make a success of it," Fisher said, adding " . . . all you'll get is an IOU due in 10 years."6 Federation creditors were on hand, arguing on behalf of the merger. Oscar Mooneyham, president of Security Bank of Rutherfordton, said he was afraid common stockholders stood to lose either way, but "if we sell, I think we have a chance of getting some of our money back. The other way, I doubt if we'd get a penny."7 Mr. Mooneyham's assessment turned out to be prophetic. Virginia Dameron, loyal assistant to Jamie Clarke; Betty Huntley, who grew up at Hickory Nut Gap and was a favorite singer at the picnics; and Carolyn Frady, Mr. Clarke's secretary, remember well the bitterness of that meeting. Mrs. Dameron recalls "My sisters were so afraid of what might happen �ATTENTION ALL STOCK HOLDERS In The FARMERS FEDERATION! Don't be muled by the information appearing in an article in the A s h e v i l l e C i t i z e n on February 20th, 1959 and in the Farmers Federation News Is§ue for February 1959 on the proposed give away of Farmers Federation to FCX. There is nothing wrong with our Farmers Federation except mismanagement or the lack of management that has allowed us to fall into a poor position with relation to cash available, to bills payable. We have the resources to overcome this. Don't let your own Farmers Federation vanish. "It can survive/* The Future looks good under a reorganization plan for the Farmers Federation. We are not poverty stricken now. We have good farm to market roads, well kept farms with high quality cattle, and the latest in farm machinery. We have been civilized and progressive for more than One Hundred years here in Western North Carolina. Our children are well clothed and we are loved and respected by our fellow man. Let's keep it that yaafcaad J&org^i*^01"1 QWH Farmers Federation. If you can not attend the meeting on February 26, 1959, sign the proxy which appears below, cut out and mail to Box 7585, Asheville, North Carolina. DO IT TODAY! �' ATTENTION FARMERS FEDERATION STOCKHOLDERS! BE SURE to attend the Farmers Federation stockholders meeting on the Fourth Floor of the Buncombe County Courthouse, Asheville, N. C, at 10 A. M. tomorrow to get FULL facts on the proposed sale to the Farmers, Cooperative Exchange. Since a two-thirds majority of all preferred and common shares is required to approve the sale, failure to vote or to send in your proxy constitutes a vote against the proposal Executive Committee of the Board of Directors of Farmers Federation Cooperative James McClure Clarke, President Charles W. Davis, Vice-President R. Alex Crowell, Secretary H. Arthur Osborne Walter K. Pike D. M. Snelton Joe R. Wells Above and left: Ads appearing in the Asheville Citizen, February 23, (left) and February 25, 1959. �470 We Plow God's Fields that they came to the meeting to lend support."8 After the meeting was over, these three women laboriously counted each vote, one for nearly all of the 133,347 voting shares of stock. For four days they counted, while the voting box remained under constant armed guard. By the next Tuesday, Jamie Clarke had to concede that "... the final vote would fall short of the percentage needed."9 Carolyn Frady remembers being almost in tears as the voting trends became clear. General Manager Charlie Davis urged her to "Just go ahead and cry."10 Tears were the only reasonable response to the acrimony created out of a cooperative Jim McClure envisioned as a bond of brotherhood among the people of Western North Carolina. Sixty per cent favored the merger with PCX, just short of the two-thirds vote needed to carry the sale. On March 7, the Directors, both those who had supported the merger and those against it, met at the Federation Freezer Locker Plant to pick up the pieces. They passed a resolution that included the following: . . . AND WHEREAS, it now appears that the Stockholders and Directors of this Corporation desire new management. NOW, THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED that James McClure Clarke, President, Charles W. Davis, Vice President . . . are requested to individually and collectively resign their said offices forthwith."11 There was nothing else for Jamie Clarke and Charlie Davis to do. Their resignations were accepted, and a slate of officers was proposed to replace them. O. J. Holler became the new president and Joe Higdon the vice president and general manager. Mr. Holler, an elderly farmer, was never more than a figurehead. Joe Higdon ran the business. Jamie and Elspeth had eight children by this time and he had to find a job. Julian Woodcock, Jr. (always called Jack) was a loyal friend. He suggested the Asheville Citizen-Times, and recommended Jamie as an editor. This was a natural choice, with his considerable experience in journalism. But before he went to work at the newspaper, he and Elspeth decided a trip was in order. She had never been to Europe and they decided to take their three older children, Susie, thirteen; Jim, nearly eleven; Annie, nine; and their friends' son Sandy Colburn, twelve. The trip included England and Scotland, Ireland (where Elspeth had Somerville relatives), and as much of the continent as time and money allowed. They stayed in bed-and-breakfasts, ate picnic lunches, rode bicycles in Holland, and generally saw so many wonders and had such fun, along with the normal logistical difficulties of taking such a family through several countries, that Jamie could not dwell on the problems of the Federation. But the fight was not over back in Asheville. When they returned the new administration of the Federation demanded that Jamie turn over the Educational and Development Fund to them immediately or face legal proceedings. They argued that Jim McClure had raised the money as an aid to the work of the cooperative and that the money should be controlled by the officers of the �Epilogue 2 471 Th« AthevOfc (N. C) Time*. FricUy, Feb. 27, 1959 Ballots Being Counted On Sale Of Federation Headlines from the Asheville Times (from top): February 26, February 27, February 28, 1959. Federation. Jamie Clarke, who had helped to raise this money, knew that it was to help the people of Western North Carolina. He was convinced that the present management of the Federation would not use it wisely, was determined that the Fund should be preserved for the purposes Jim McClure had intended. The new officers of the cooperative realized that the Farmers Federation was not a viable business without the aid of that money. Jamie was certain that they would pomall of it into the sinking ship, and he staunchly refused to capitulate. The trustees, headed by Jim's loyal friend Arthur Page, backed Jamie up. Joe Higdon wrote him on September 17, 1959: "Since the date of your resignation . .. you have neglected, failed or refused to resign as a Trustee and Executive Secretary of the Fund, in favor of Mr. 0. J. Holler, your successor . .." (Joe Higdon to James McClure Clarke, Sept. 17, 1959). The letter threatened action after ten days of noncompliance. Jamie Clarke and the trustees did not hand over the Fund, and in 1961 the whole matter landed in the courts. It was a bitterly contested suit. The issue revolved around the pivotal point of whether the Educational and Development Fund was legally tied to the Farmers Federation, or whether it was a completely separate and independent entity. In actual practice, the two were thoroughly interwoven. Salaries were commonly shifted from the Federation to the Fund, for example. But legally the two were just as clearly independent. In 1944 Jim McClure had had �472 We Plow God's Fields the Fund incorporated, clearing up any ambiguities that might have left the contributions of his friends unprotected. The case dragged on as the Federation's management fruitlessly stalled for time, trying to figure a way around the legal facts. Finally, in January of 1963, the plaintiff "announced its desire to submit to the Judgement of Voluntary Non-Suit. . ,"12 The Fund would survive. Three weeks later, the Federation went busted once and for all. All through the mountains, the treasured stock certificates that had been purchased with so much hope became worthless. For most, it was the only form of business investment they would ever make. Had the merger with PCX passed, the value of these stocks would have been preserved. But the James G. K. McClure Educational and Development Fund, so named in June 1959, continues the tradition of good works in the name of the man who had a great vision for Western North Carolina. Thousands of deserving mountain students have attended college as the result of this money. In many instances, the money received has made the difference between attending college and missing the chance altogether. Arthur Page remained the President of the Trustees of the Fund during all the times of trouble, and he helped to map out new directions for it in light of the faltering state of the Federation. He wrote a personal letter to all the contributors, summarizing the origins of the Fund and describing the new circumstances in the mountains: As President of the Educational and Development Fund I want to report to you concerning a change your Trustees are making in the spending of the money you contribute. The Educational and Development Fund has graduated from its elementary task to a higher one. Jim McClure's ambition was to bring opportunity and a good life to the mountain people. Now a good life and a good living are not necessarily the same thing, but a good living is a very handy and helpful base on which to construct a good life. The mountain fanner didn't make a good living. There were several reasons for that. But perhaps the most obvious one at that time was that he had no good market for his products and, therefore, little incentive to exert himself. If, in the local phrase, a man grew enough to do him and his family there was little else he could accomplish. And growing enough to do himself provided a very meager living. So Jim set about to create markets. He created the Fanners Federation with its warehouses which could act as collection points for the fanner's produce and which could in return sell him his blue jeans, fertilizer and so forth . . . But markets are not the whole story by any means. Some 13% of the American people grow enough food for our population and enough to create a serious problem of oversupply. The technological advances and the reduction of many hours in farming have been as fast or faster than those in industry. Education—general and vocational—is the basis of this revolutionary change. There is now far more prospect for improving life in the mountains by aiding education than there is in looking for new markets. It means that there will be �Epilogue fewer people on the farms but greater output—more brains and less muscles, more chemistry, more apparatus and more profit. Happily, the excess people who will be displaced from the farms will not have to leave home, for a considerable amount of industry has come into the mountains and this provides not only jobs, but a local market for farm produce. All these changes are behind the decision of the Fund to change emphasis from markets to education, to hospitals, to nursing and things which directly add to the good life. When this decision was made it was apparent that regular commercial competition not only had grown enough to make more or less adequate markets but mat it had made inroads on the business of the Federation. The ordinary operations of the Federation were not doing too well financially. This led Mr. Clarke to suggest a merger of the Federation with the larger Farmers Cooperative Exchange which operated hi other parts of the State. It has more buying power and more managerial experience than the Federation. To consummate this merger it was necessary to have a favorable vote of the stockholder owners of the Federation. A majority voted for the merger. But the North Carolina law requires a two-thirds vote. Had everyone voted, there would probably have been a two-thirds majority. But those who voted "no" and those who did not vote at all made up more than one-third of the total, so the merger was lost. Mr. Clarke resigned as President of the Federation to devote himself entirely to the Fund. The Federation is under other management. It has its own program, which does not include any project financed by the Fund, for the kind of projects the Fund contemplates, now that marketing is out, do not fit with the Federation's operations. At this point I think it is appropriate to recall that from the very beginning Jim McClure was as interested in the things of the spirit as he was in material well being. The Lord's Acre is an example . . . One of Jim's major interests was education. He was Chairman of the Buncombe county Citizen's Committee which persuaded a county that thought it had no money and hadn't built but one school in 22 years to spend $6 million to tear down many of the old buildings and create a new consolidated school system, properly housed . .. There is no question that in this day and tune, good will and good back muscle are not enough. Education is opportunity. The valuable part of a man is his brain and it is better when exercised young by education. With the coming of better high schools it should be possible to open the doors of opportunity in the colleges to the bright young boys and girls of the mountains by scholarships. Mr. Clarke's program this year begins this enterprise . . . The better part of thirty years I worked on the Fund with Jim McClure. His enthusiasm for human betterment never wavered. His main objectives stayed the same. But the means of attainment shifted rapidly as changes hi conditions occurred. The changes in conditions which have motivated our change were develop- 473 �474 We Plow God's Fields ing before Jim died and had he lived, by now, I am clear that he would have suggested changes, either what we have done or something more or less like it. And I think he would view the future, as I do, as being as full of good possibilities as there were at any time in the past.13 While the assets of the Fund would find new and productive use, there lingered an unmistakable sadness at the death of the Federation. It had always been more than a business; it was an organization that had stood for high values of honesty. And it had drawn so many people together for a purpose. Doug Reed, the Citizen reporter, tried to express the sense of loss felt all across Western North Carolina. For nearly 40 years mountain farmers have felt no need to specify. "The Federation" was enough. But . . . the dream of a Chicago-born Presbyterian preacher will almost surely vanish. And the Farmers Federation Cooperative, the creature of its maker, will be no more. It began without capital and so it apparently will end—broke, harassed by competition and unable to find the money it needs to survive . . . In 1920, when James G. K. McClure—minister, educator, promoter and businessman—viewed Western North Carolina he saw quagmire roads, rundown farms, scrawny cattle, lame horses, broken plows, barefoot children and leather-skinned women. About the only thing standing up for the whole lot was the dirt farmers who waded the roads, worked the farms, cursed the cattle, beat the horses, swore at the plow, caned the children and loved the women. He had no money and no one would lend him any. He couldn't sell what he grew and he frequently wouldn't grow what he could sell. He was poverty-stricken, but McClure turned that into an asset, winning the pity and the purse of influential financiers. With the kind of talk he understood, McClure showed the mountaineer farmer how to wipe the tobacco juice off his beard and market it around the world. He set up stores where a man's produce was taken and cash money paid. Men stopped sawing pine trees for firewood and started shipping it for paper. Over the years, the Federation branched out ... It spread its network of familiar yellow, clapboard stores into 21 towns in 15 counties.14 And then, all of a sudden, the Federation was gone. But people still remember, they sure do. Just ask around about the picnics, or mention James G. K. McClure's name. They remember the Lord's Acre as well, and will tell you what a wonderful friend Rev. Dumont Clarke was to them and to their children. The Fund continued to support the Lord's Acre Movement. Dumont Clarke retired from his post the year of Jim McClure's death. He had married Elizabeth Dodge Huntington and moved to Riverdale, New York. He chose Reverend Jack Waldrep as his replacement. Dumont Clarke said farewell in his familiar editorial space in the Farmers Federation News in the October 1956, issue. �Epilogue 475 It was nearly twenty-seven years ago, in December, 1929, that God led me to become director of the Religious Department of the Farmers Federation. During these years I have had a wonderful privilege of establishing a very large number of Christian fellowships in North Carolina and in many other States. Therefore it is with much regret that, having lessened endurance for field work, I must now sever my active connections with Farmers Federation, and cease my visits to country churches, with all their cherished associations . . . To all who have encouraged me with their friendships and cooperation, I give most hearty thanks. I shall miss the friendly welcome of country church people in many counties. My prayerful good wishes go to you. May God bless, everyone.15 Rev. Jack Waldrep worked tirelessly to carry on the spirit of the Lord's Acre both at home and abroad for seventeen years, until the Trustees of the Fund decided that there was no longer a need in Western North Carolina for those methods of raising cash and morale. Now the income from the endowment for the Lord's Acre is used to help rural ministers to further their education. Dumont Clarke spent his last years writing a book on Scripture Prayer and promoting its use. His full and useful life ended in 1960. The job of Executive Secretary of the McClure Fund is only part-time, and Jamie Clarke was also editor of the Sunday Asheville Citizen-Times and associate editor of the daily Citizen for eight years. He then became assistant to the President of Warren Wilson College. His father's old friend, Arthur Bannerman, was president of the college at that time, and Jamie worked with him until his retirement. He then continued as assistant to President Reuben Holden. During this time he also served as Chairman of the Buncombe County School Board for eight years, and served in the North Carolina State Legislature for three terms. In 1982 he resigned from Warren Wilson College to run for the United States Congress. When he was elected, he resigned as Executive Secretary of the McClure Fund. The author, John Curtis Ager, was chosen as his successor by the trustees. Virginia Dameron assisted in the many charitable activities of the Fund until she retired in 1980. She passed away in 1987. Life at Hickory Nut Gap Farm, still the home of Elspeth and Jamie Clarke, retains all of the warmth and hospitality with which Jim and Elizabeth McClure endowed it. Although it is a working dairy farm and apple orchard, it also is devoted to people, and each summer old John Shorter's vegetable garden feeds (and works) many visitors, guests and helpers, who arrive from all points and for a wide variety of reasons. Square dance music, under the direction of one of the Federation's star picnic attractions, Johnny Rhymer and his Bear Creek Ramblers, is a frequent accompaniment to a summer evening at Hickory Nut Gap. Sixteen great-grandchildren (at last count) of Jim and Elizabeth McClure are growing up on the same farm that cast its spell on the newlyweds when they first drove the Honeymoon Hudson up the curving mountain road. These children like nothing better than dressing up in clothes from the attic and acting out �476 We Plow God's Fields "Mr. and Mrs. McClure plays." Their favorites are the courtship scenes, culminating in the buggy ride around Central Park. The visitor to Hickory Nut Gap Farm who has a keen eye and ear would find a great deal of Jim and Elizabeth still there. The gardens and boxwoods, the landscaping and interior design, are all obvious contributions of Elizabeth's. Her murals depicting Sherrill's Inn and the portraits of Jim and Elspeth in the dining room are all works of her genius. Less tangible, but no less real, is the extraordinary hospitality that draws strangers together there. Throughout his life, Jim McClure loved nothing so much as being able to orchestrate a diverse collection of people into a happy gathering. Whether before the warm fire of the dining room in winter or amidst the summer breezes on the porch, a dinner at Hickory Nut Gap retains a charming conviviality quite suited to the old mountain inn. The talk is easy and relaxed, full of old stories and the friendly needling that grows up among the current group of people who have spent the day working on their tasks together. The serious talk runs to politics, as Jamie Clarke has devoted himself more and more to public service. The family has retained its Presbyterian base and one is as likely as not to discuss the tenets of the Christian faith while picking raspberries in the garden. Sons of Elspeth and Jamie, especially Mark and Douglas, have spent time working on and managing the farm. Both their daughters, Susie and Annie (wife of the author), live nearby with their families and are always ready to help with farm projects. Susie's husband, Dr. Will Hamilton, is the family doctor for the area. A lawyer son, Billy, his wife Sinclair, and their four children also live nearby. Another lawyer son, Dumont, and his wife Shirley Linn, come as often as they can from Charlotte to keep in touch. The oldest son, called Jim like his great-grandfather, works in Kannapolis, North Carolina, but he and his wife Francine come when he can escape the pressures of his accounting work with Cannon Mills. Dogs and children, kittens, sheep, chickens, horses and pigs all appear to have the run of the place. Life at Hickory Nut Gap Farm has nothing to do with the search for a Utopia, and everything to do with the acceptance and enjoyment and encouragement of people in all their variety. It is a community based on the family traditions exemplified by Jim and Elizabeth McClure. At the end of this book, one feels the need to try to somehow pull together the meaning of Jim's life, but it would be the futile exercise of a biographer's conceit. By his own reckoning, he would want to be judged by how his spiritual pursuits translated into tangible results. There was a great courageousness to Jim McClure, that much is undeniable. Since he was unafraid of other people, he felt free to befriend them. He also stood ready to make decisions, to choose his course of action, and then to pursue the results he imagined possible. He also had the courage to fail, and to admit when his plans faltered, and to go on undiscouraged. The Christian ethics taught him by his father and mother were the axis on which his life turned. He sought the spiritual challenge, and rewards, of Christian service, and as such consciously set himself apart from his contemporaries. Jim McClure devoted his life to creating a business that made profits �Epilogue 477 for others. His life is a rich mine of ideas and impulses, some fruitful and some stillborn. But most of all he was a man with many friends, whom he loved to join together for useful ends. These friends wanted to remember this man, to be reminded of how much he loved his life, his wife, his children and them. To all these people, I commend the life of James G. K. McClure, Jr. 1. James McClure Clarke, "News from the Front," Farmers Federation News, July 1957, p. 3. 2. James McClure Clarke, Farmers Federation News, February, 1959. 3. Interview with Mr. Charles Davis. 4. Doug Reed, "Federation's Fate Hangs on Proxy Vote's Outcome," Asheville Citizen, February 27, 1959, p. 1, 5. 5. Ibid. 6. Ibid. 1. Ibid. 8. Interview with Mrs. Virginia Dameron. 9. Doug Reed, "Votes Need for Sale of Federation FA11 Short," Asheville Citizen, March 4, 1959, p. 1. 10. Interview with Carolyn Frady. 11. Farmers Federation Minutes Book, March 7, 1959. 12. Farmers Federation Cooperative vs. McClure Fund, Superior Court of North Carolina, January 21, 1963. 13. Arthur Page, letter to contributors to the McClure Fund, November 1, 1959. 14. Doug Reed, Asheville Citizen, February 15, 1963. 15. Dumont Clarke, "The Country Church With the Lord's Acre Plan," Farmers Federation News, October 1956, p. 27. �JOHN CURTIS is a Ager; in the iisth They Inn as an of the John the his her the a at the 1967-1971 is for He a BA in UNC He in 1947. He is the County. a of � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Plow God's Fields: The Life of James G.K. McClure Description An account of the resource <span>This biography explores the life of James G. K. McClure, Jr., and his vision for a better life in the mountains of North Carolina. At his prompting, and under his leadership, The Farmers Federation was founded in Fairview, North Carolina, in 1920.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1UeXonYdA0pHTiXX55You7b-VE5rPft3H" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469641980/we-plow-gods-fields" target="_blank" rel="noopener">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Subject The topic of the resource McClure, James Gore King Farmers--United States--Biography Farmers' Federation (N.C.)--History Agriculture, Cooperative--North Carolina--History Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Ager, John Curtis Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1991 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Biographies E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank" rel="noopener">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1990s Biography farmer history Missionary https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/c87a5fa217010fa898d9d85424ddaeca.pdf 80f1af9d9e71bb69d230017eccf09e87 PDF Text Text �For His Cause A Little House A Hundred Year History of Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church by DONALD B. SAUNDERS �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program^ Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license^ visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1988 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-4201-7 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4203-1 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �THE APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM The Appalachian Consortium is a non-profit educational organization comprised of institutions and agencies located in the Southern Highlands. Our members are volunteers who plan and execute projects which serve 156 mountain counties in seven states. Among our goals are: Preserving the cultural heritage of Southern Appalachia Protecting the mountain environment Improving the educational opportunities for area students and teachers Conducting scientific, social and economic research Promoting a positive image of Appalachia Encouraging regional cooperation THE MEMBER INSTITUTIONS OF THE APPALACHIAN CONSORTIUM ARE: Appalachian State University Blue Ridge Parkway East Tennessee State University Gardner-Webb College Great Smoky Mountains Natural History Association John C. Campbell Folk School Lees-McRae College Mars Hill College Mountain Regional Library North Carolina Division of Archives and History Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy Southern Highlands Handicraft Guild U.S. Forest Service Warren Wilson College Western Carolina University Western North Carolina Historical Society �To my parents �CONTENTS Acknowledgments Introduction 1: The Founding and the Founders 1 Mrs. Alfred M. Stewart. Col William J. Martin. The Rev. Dr. Jethro Rumple and North Carolina Presbyterianism to the 1880's. Blowing Rock, 1880-1900. The German Reformed Church. The first building. W. M. Morris's deed of land. The Rev, C. A. Munroe and the Lenoir connection. The first members. Notes for Chapter One. 2: The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 33 The Rev. Robert P. Pell and mountain education. The arrival of the Rev. Edgar Tufts and his Blowing Rock work. A new generation of summer people: Dr. William J. Martin, the Rev. James I. Vance, the Rev. Charles G. Vardell. Building the stone church. The first Session. The formation of the Synod of Appalachia and its significance. The church and the Grandfather Home for Children. The death of Tufts; tributes to his work. Notes for Chapter Two. 3: From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 Blowing Rock by the 1920's. The Rev. Charles G. McKaraher's pastorate at Blowing Rock. Remodeling the church portico. McKaraher's academy at Shulls Mills. The Rev. Walter K. Keys and Holston Presbytery home missions. The Rev. G. Sexton Buchanan and the first manse. The church's "fiftieth" anniversary celebration. Dr. Mary Warfield. The WOC. Mrs. Annie L. Cannon and the first education building. The church and the black community. The departure of the Rev. Buchanan. Notes for Chapter Three. 65 �4: Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 97 The first Keys pastorate. The church and World War II. The deaths of Martin, Vance, and W. L. Holshouser. Postwar changes. Keys's illness. David Ovens and Grandfather Home Sunday. The pastorate of the Rev. Robert D. Earnest. The building of the Negro Community Church. Two pastors with Korean connections: the Rev. Sam S. Cappel and The Rev. Leroy T. Newland. The recall of Dr. Keys. Notes for Chapter Four. 5: Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 121 Keys's second pastorate. Lay leaders and leadership opportunities. Robert A. Dunn and the Dunn Youth. Building the present manse. The Rev. Blake Brinkerhoff and the Summer Residents Committee. Brinkerhoff and the KKK. The changing character of the town. The Rev. Richard Holshouser and the Cannon Educational Building. Return to Concord Presbytery. Notes for Chapter Five. 6: Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 151 Holshouser's departure and the call of the Rev. Francis C. Collier. The Collier case. Recovery, redirection, and reunion. The pastorate of the Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell. Rumple Sundays and preaching missions. Celebrating the centennial. Whither the town? Whither Rumple? Notes for Chapter Six. Bibliography 175 Index 181 �ACKNOWLEDGMENTS INSPIRATION FOR WRITING this book came on a spring walk in 1985 along the then-unopened stretch of the Blue Ridge Parkway, in sight of the Grandfather, between Blowing Rock and Linville. I knew the job needed doing; I had just concluded another semester's teaching; I needed a project to break a block; and I determined then to make my services available for the task. My only concern was that others with more knowledge and experience than I had a more rightful claim to write it. Looming like giant footsteps across a trail were professional considerations due my acquaintance from days at Davidson College, the Carolinas Presbyterian professor par excellence, Blowing Rock summer resident and worshipper at Rumple, raconteur and repository of many pertinent facts, both trenchant and trivial, Dr. Chalmers G. Davidson. I knew that Dr. Davidson had been asked to take the job on. I did not yet know he had begged off the project, on the grounds that his semi-retirement, which he fills as the first Archivist of Davidson College, was busy enough, and he needed no new writing projects to tackle. He has since been a valuable consultant to the one hundredth anniversary history project for the town of Blowing Rock; his contributions will undoubtedly prove important when Appalachian Consortium Press publishes the work in 1989. Now, most all of us who attended Davidson in the years Dr. Davidson taught history there, whether we took his courses or not, stood and still stand in awe of his learning, of his good humor, and of the peculiar nature of his curiosities: his interest in matters genealogical sometimes seems surpassed only by his love of an earthy story. He has revealed, I am sorry to inform the reader, precious few such stories for this book, with which I might have enlivened the narrative. But he did assure me, when I asked him, that the topic was mine if I wanted it, and that he was always ready to help. I am grateful for the professional and personal regard he has shown me as this work has progressed, giving me free rein in the Davidson College archives, particularly in the Dr. William J. Martin papers, and answering numerous questions about Blowing Rock and its people. His com- �ments on the book's final draft proved valuable. He knows a great deal more than I knew to ask; he has been of enormous help. But even before I had to wrestle with a legend like Dr. Davidson, the project itself had taken shape in the mind and heart of the Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell, whom I knew only slightly when I started, but who came to be a friend. His desire to observe the church's anniversary by such a project, his constant interest, his own knowledge of the subject, his help in arranging oral interviews and in finding the funds for the publication of this book, and above all his unquestioning faith in my ability and determination to complete it: these have kept me going in the year and a half since I volunteered to do the job. I also owe a great deal to Dr. Jerrold L. Brooks, Executive Director of The Historical Foundation of the Presbyterian and Reformed Churches at Montreat, and the staff there, especially Mr. Bill Bynum. Before there were local church histories, there are the records at Montreat —congregational, Presbytery, Synod, and General Assembly—which make local accounts possible. All historians, and all Presbyterians, now reunited in the Presbyterian Church, USA, have reason to be grateful for, and to continue to support, the facility and its rich resources. When the project began, I knew numerous oral interviews would be desirable and necessary to give a human dimension to the story and to alert me to the many details I knew nothing of in the history of the church and the town. Several longtime members at Rumple and residents of the community have been kind enough to grant extended interviews, some quite early on, others only later in the project. Appropriate notes appear throughout the text to these invaluable sources of information and support. Among those who helped me in this way were: former pastors Robert D. Earnest, Blake Brinkerhoff, and Richard Holshouser; elder emeritus Howard Holshouser and his wife, Mabel; other members of the Holshouser family, including William L. Holshouser, Jr., and his wife, Louise VonCanon Holshouser, of Banner Elk, and Virginia (Mrs. Eubert "Peck") Holshouser, of Boone; former elders Rudolph Greene and Perry Lentz; former Summer Residents Committee chairmen Eugene S. Bowman and Andy Nimmo; William C. Cannon of Concord and Blowing Rock; members Agnes Coffey, Gladys Tester, and "Miss Hattie" Brown; former member, deacon, and elder Jim O'Dell; summer residents Betsy McClure, Linda Yarnell, and the Rev. Allan Smyth; and Mrs. McClure's aunt, Helen Weedon Deaton of Statesville, daughter of one of Blowing Rock's earliest transplant families and Rumple members. Jean Clawson, liaison from the Session to the Historical Committee, kindly �helped me interview Jo Greene, now of Winston-Salem, who with her late husband Spencer lived in Blowing Rock from the late 1930's to the 1960's, and who recalled for us many anecdotes regarding Annie Ludlow Cannon. From the start the backing of the Historical Committee at the church has been very reassuring, as has been that of the special Centennial Committee chaired by George Kinnard. It almost goes without saying that without the help of Jerry Burns, editor of The Blowing Rocket and a son of Rumple Church, and use of the materials collected through the resources of The Blowing Rocket over the years, this work could never have been written. As of this writing, the special 1976 edition of that newspaper devoted to the history of the town is the single best source of local historical information. He also gave me access to various items collected at the church reaching back well into the early years of its history. Among the more recent and valuable materials are two hefty scrapbooks assembled between 1962 and the time of her death in 1978 by Mrs. William C. (Elizabeth) Lentz. Would that such a diligent effort had been made from the beginning, or were still underway. Tom and Michelle Bouvier, church members and word processor enthusiasts, gave help preparing the first, brief version of the project on their computer; their example made me realize the value of learning the computer and helped inspire me to acquire my own. Summer resident Eleanor (Mrs. Leon S.) Bradshaw showed the Rev. Hartsell and me around the First Presbyterian Church of Salisbury, introduced us to the church historian there, Mrs. Josephine Kluttz Krider, and toured with us the old manse once inhabited by Jethro Rumple (now the historical museum of Salisbury) and the Salisbury public library's collection of local history. Mrs. Julia Keys Williams of Sarasota, Florida, daughter of longtime pastor Walter K. Keys, answered thoughtfully and graciously many questions during her visit to Blowing Rock in April 1987. For information concerning the Boone Fork Academy, I thank Katherine J. Peterson of Boone, formerly a teacher at Watauga High School and at Appalachian State University; and for information on R. A. Dunn and his Blowing Rock property, Jim Love of Mount Holly. I am also grateful to my departmental colleague, North Carolina historian Dr. Ruby S. Lanier, who serendipitously was working on a sketch of the Rev. Jesse Rankin of Lenoir while I was engaged in this project, and so was able to give me materials concerning the Lenoir Presbyterian Church and help in other ways with source references. For assistance in conceptualizing some of the interpretations contained in this book, I thank Dr. Patricia D. Beaver, Professor and Chair of the Anthropology Department at ASU; need- �less to say, the final form my thoughts have taken is my own responsibility. The Rev. Dr. Thomas F. Clark, artist, sculptor, my professor of Old Testament Bible at Davidson College, and historian of the Myers Park Presbyterian Church of Charlotte, was kind enough to read and comment upon a nearly-final version of the manuscript. The Rev. Lawton W. Posey, pastor of the Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church of Charleston, West Virginia, who has written numerous articles and reviews for several church publications, also read it and provided many welcome suggestions. Other favorable comments were kindly supplied by Dr. John W. Kuykendall, president of Davidson College; the Rev. Dr. Perry H. Biddle, Jr.; and Mrs. Margaret Tufts Neal. I am grateful too, for a careful reading of the last draft by Church members Mary Smith, Bernie Greene, Jerry Burns, and Jean Clawson; their sharp eyes caught a number of minor errors and omissions; those that remain are my own fault. Publication was made possible by the Session of the Church, the Summer Residents Committee, and several special contributors: my thanks to Capt. and Mrs. Salem Van Every, who arranged for the Foundation of the Carolinas to contribute toward the underwriting of the book in memory of Mrs. Van Every's nephew, John Arvid Moberg, a member of Rumple Memorial at the time of his death in September 1986; other members of the Moberg family; and to Willard and Betty Broyhill Gortner, area summer residents. I also acknowledge the generous support of Dr. George P. Antone, my department chairman at ASU, and Dr. William F. Byrd, Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, who provided me with a block of release time and other support for this work during Spring Semester 1987. Finally, I express my debt to my parents, to whom I dedicate this book. Born and reared "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," they saw to it that "the faith once delivered to the saints" was taught to their children, both at home and in the church in which I grew up, Grace Presbyterian Church, Montclair, New Jersey. Had they not taken an interest in the affairs of Rumple Church during several summers in Blowing Rock, I might never have been introduced to its ministry and its minister. Boone, N.C. December 1987 �INTRODUCTION FOR MORE THAN half of its one hundred years, it was known officially as the Blowing Rock Presbyterian Church. In all its early records, in presbytery minutes, and in reports —when it made them — to the denomination's General Assembly, the "little house" did not use its current name before 1940. And nothing shows that the congregation or session ever voted to adopt the name of its founding spirit. Yet by the time Holston Presbytery, to which the church had belonged since 1915, "went on record as recognizing the name of the Church in Blowing Rock to be the Rumple Memorial Church" in 1940, the role of Jethro Rumple, D.D., minister of the First Presbyterian Church in Salisbury for some forty years and a longtime summer resident, had been recognized for decades. Indeed, from the time of the construction of the present stone church, completed in 1912, the building has displayed a stone marker, donated by Sunday School pupils of the Salisbury congregation, memorializing Dr. Rumple. It is in many ways fitting that the church should bear the name of a person from "off the mountain": a major part in its history, and in its active life today, has been played by contributors, sung and unsung, who have lived among the mountains and its people but whose homes and livelihoods have been elsewhere. Two factors go a long way toward explaining this phenomenon. First, perhaps, was the sense of mission, at its height in the Presbyterian Church, U.S. during the long generation from the 1890's through the 1920's, reflected in the status of the Blowing Rock church as a missionary activity of the denomination in that era. This account will sketch many of the men and women who during those years were called to "labor in the vineyards for the Lord," as they said, and whose zeal sometimes seems hard to recapture today. If they occasionally showed an imperfect understanding of the people and the conditions they met in the mountains, their convictions have nevertheless left permanent impressions even on the very granite of the land. The second factor has been the growing and changing role of the town of Blowing Rock as a summer resort over the past century. To many of their visitors in the early days, the mountains were a retreat, a solace, a sometimes-romanticized "place of quiet rest near to the heart �of God," as the old hymn has it. Later, a somewhat more strenuous round of "leisure" activities - golf, horsemanship, dining out, or shopping and sightseeing-increased the social and economic significance of the summer community. Each year, as the autumn leaves blew off the trees, these folks departed; but what they left behind, as contributions of time or money, has been vital to the church's survival. So without the support of professional church workers, and lay people whose lives were staked elsewhere, neither Rumple Memorial nor the town ever would have taken their present shape. But the church's success in the community has depended equally on reaching out to, and meeting the needs of, local people. Not all mountain missionary work succeeded. And not all the resorts which were springing up in the era when Rumple Church was planted provided a permanent Presbyterian witness. The church at Highlands, N.C., for example, dedicated just two years before the one at Blowing Rock, struggled and died in 1910, and was not revived until interested persons, many of them retired outsiders, reorganized it in 1929. Linville, founded as a resort during the same decade the Rumple Church was organized in nearby Blowing Rock, has not maintained a regular Presbyterian place of worship despite several false starts. To keep a church alive and active, a base of permanent resident members, as has been the case at Rumple, is imperative. For the local people who have shared in the work at Rumple Memorial, the church has fulfilled its characteristic roles: a source of comfort in times of pain and death, a place for celebrating weddings, baptisms, and holiday traditions, and a scene of spiritual study and worship. Early resident members often gave, sacrificially, of the labor of their hands and hearts, and from narrow bases of income, to build and maintain its physical plant and to carry on its programs. For some members even today, the church represents what was truly "the faith of their fathers": second, third, and even fourth generation descendants retain current membership. Like their forebears, they are still being challenged spiritually and ethically to display in their families and in the community the faith they have heard preached in the church. And like them, they take their places in the pews alongside the doctors, professors, city preachers, successful business people, and all sorts of folks from other places who make up the summer congregation, led by a common commitment to serve the same Lord. Projects of outreach were and are jointly undertaken by the entire membership. The most noted of these, since 1918, has been the Church's support of Grandfather Home for Children in Banner Elk, of which much more will be said in this account. It is mentioned here as �an example of the way in which the sense of mission, the impact of the summer community, and the work of local residents have all come together to accomplish an unusual thing. Nothing humans do on earth is permanent or perfect. Ink fades, buildings are pulled down and rebuilt out of all recognition, men and women err and die, "mind and memory flee." The faith of Christians is that God remembers, rewards, and "maketh perfect"; the faith of historians, that the preserved memory of the past influences the present. Here, then, is something of what remains of the record of Rumple Memorial Church, in at least part of its context. It is written not simply to honor the living and memorialize the dead, certainly not to remind the Almighty what His people have done in this place. It, too, is service, and is inspired by example. �This page intentionally left blank �The Founding and the Founders ON SEPTEMBER 17, 1887, at its regular fall meeting, the Presbytery of Concord, of the Presbyterian Church in the United States, received and approved a report from the Reverend C. A. Munroe of Lenoir that "he had organized a church [in Blowing Rock] on the 17th day of July, 1887, of 8 members...." Presbytery then "ordered that the name of the church, Blowing Rock,... be put on the roll of churches," and the church had its official beginning. It was the culmination of years of effort to establish the denomination in Watauga County, North Carolina.1 The first known call to the Presbyterian public to launch "A Church Enterprise in Watauga, N.C." was made in a letter signed by "Mrs. Alfred M. Stewart" in the North Carolina Presbyterian on October 18, 1882. Her audience would not have been large: there were only some 25,000 Presbyterians of all varieties in the state, out of a population of more than one million, by 1880, and circulation of the paper was certainly no more than a few thousand. The weekly journal, which reached church people from its offices in Fayetteville, was at the time a major source of news and information concerning the denomination, although it was not an official church publication. Besides news and letters, it also ran inspirational poetry, various lessons from Scripture, and even such almanac information as when to plant crops and recent weather reports. It was a logical forum in which to promote her efforts. According to property deed records, Alfred M. and Emma Reid Stewart were from Mecklenburg County and probably lived in Davidson, although they do not appear on the 1880 census for that town. They first bought property in Blowing Rock in 1880: an eighty-acre tract from S. M. and Emma S. Clarke for $700. Part of this tract, which �2 / Chapter One straddled the middle fork of the New River, was still known as "Stewart's field" in recent memory. Other acreage Emma Stewart bought in her own name later, including property on the south end of Main Street. In Davidson, she kept a boarding house, listed as "Stuarts Inn" in the College Handbook of that era, for college students during the school year, and another in Blowing Rock, the Skyland Inn, at what is now the Farm House Restaurant, for summer people. She was a member of the Davidson College Presbyterian Church; nothing in the records shows that she joined the church in Blowing Rock she helped to launch, but she must have attended services there in summer. The Stewarts' son, Herbert, or "Hub," lived in Blowing Rock and also in Southwest Virginia near Abingdon, as late as the 1950's; apparently he never married. He ran the Skyland Inn from the time his mother became infirm, about 1919, until the sale of the property in 1945 to the present owners, Mr. and Mrs. E. J. Blackwell2 In Davidson, the Stewarts would have known Col. William J. Martin and perhaps others from the college who spent their summers in the mountains. Her letter, in any event, was no doubt sparked by conversations in Davidson and Blowing Rock with Col. Martin (who long was an elder in the Davidson College Presbyterian Church) and the Reverend Dr. Jethro Rumple of Salisbury, both of whom were a great deal better known to Presbyterians across the state. Why neither of these men signed the letter is a mystery. Her letter informed those "who live in more favored parts of our land" of the "widespread religious destitution in Watauga County," where the "few Presbyterians are literally as 'sheep without a shepherd/ " She reminded her readers that "Blowing Rock is resorted to yearly by visitors, among whom are members of our communion. But they come to us to find no sanctuary and no means of grace of our faith and order." She proposed to put up "an inexpensive house of worship," after obtaining a lot, to further the course of "religion and morality," and asked for donations "in our weakness . . . even if the aid rendered be small."3 Over the winter and spring the donations trickled in. Letters at the church preserved from that period show that small contributions came from all over the state. From as far away as Wilmington, $15 was raised "among my young friends of the Second Presbyterian Church" by Miss May Colville, who expected Mrs. Stewart to remember her as "Miss Annie Rankin's friend" (Annie Rankin was a daughter of the Reverend Jesse Rankin of Lenoir). From Fayetteville, Mrs. L. M. Evans sent $5 and regretted she could not "make it five times that amount." The Reverend Robert Zenas Johnston, pastor at Lincolnton �The Founding and the Founders / 3 and stated clerk of Mecklenburg Presbytery, forwarded $2, noting he was "on missionary ground" himself, helping to build a church at Iron Station in Lincoln County, and so could send no more. He signed himself "your old pastor" and thought of Mrs. Stewart as one of his "old friends." The reference is puzzling, for although he was a Davidson graduate, class of 1858, preached all his career in the Presbyteries of Concord and Mecklenburg, and had been Jethro Rumple's successor at the Providence and Sharon churches in southeast Mecklenburg County when Rumple moved to Salisbury in 1860, Johnston never preached near Davidson. Perhaps the Stewarts had lived in one of these areas before taking up residence in Davidson. Or they may have provided him board on his visits to the town in his capacity as a trustee of the college from Mecklenburg Presbytery: he served from 1871 to 1879, and again from 1897 to 1908.4 To Emma Stewart's call came two especially interesting responses from persons who remembered their own visits in Watauga County: Arnold W. Miller, pastor of First Church, Charlotte, and Mrs. Peter Tinsley Penick, of Mooresville. Miller recalled that "when we were a part of Concord Presbytery [i.e., before 1869], Watauga was one of my favorite counties, and in several portions of it I have preached. I shall always feel a deep interest in its welfare and hence, hail with delight, the first movement tending to the establishment of Presbyterianism in that remarkable section." When Miller died in 1892, a tribute at the state Synod meeting observed that "the people of Western North Carolina will long remember his labors. There the inmates of many homes have been permitted to read numerous religious and moral periodicals, sent by him year after year to the children, who otherwise never would have seen these periodicals." Miller, a native of Charleston, South Carolina, served his Charlotte charge from 1865 to shortly before his death. Mrs. Penick, wife, mother, mother-in-law, and daughter-in-law of Presbyterian divines, sent Mrs. Stewart "one dollar which I hope will not be too late to be useful in 'putting a few nails* in the house of worship you are building." She wrote, "I love our grand old mountains! Many of the happiest days of my girlhood were spent among them, and Blowing Rock is associated with some of my tenderly cherished memories." According to her letter, she and several family members had spent "some weeks at Shull's Mills and Morris" in 1879 and had seen and felt then the need for a church in that vicinity.5 The donations received as a result of Emma Stewart's call were inadequate to begin work. Presbytery was at that time uninterested in pursuing the matter; money was apparently being raised for a church �4 / Chapter One at Jefferson, but major support was not yet forthcoming for any new construction ventures. No doubt what finally got the Blowing Rock project off the ground was the support of her two collaborators, Col. William Joseph Martin (1830-1896) of Davidson College, and Jethro Rumple (1827-1906), minister at the First Presbyterian Church of Salisbury. The contributions these prominent North Carolina Presbyterians and Blowing Rock summer residents had already made to the denomination were well known in the state and the region. Sometime during his tenure as professor of chemistry, geology, and natural history at Davidson, which began in 1869, Col. Martin sojourned in Blowing Rock. The exact date has not been pinpointed, but what drew him is clear: it was his interest in the geological formation of what were already being called the oldest mountains in America. Born in Richmond the son of an Irish immigrant physician, Martin was an 1854 graduate of the University of Virginia. He studied chemistry there, but according to one who has written about his career, Martin drew his inspiration to teach from classes under the famed William Holmes McGuffey, whose Eclectic Readers and Eclectic Spelling Book helped shape popular education in nineteenth century America. After teaching three years at Washington College in Pennsylvania upon earning his Master of Arts degree, Martin was invited to succeed the well-known Elisha Mitchell at the University of North Carolina in 1857. His academic career was interrupted by service with the famous N.C. Bethel Regiment, which he helped to raise among Chapel Hill students, during the Civil War. He saw action in several campaigns, advancing from captain to colonel, and was three times wounded. The scene of his return home, which came down through his family, is reminiscent of the classic screen version in "Gone With the Wind": alone and exhausted on a "pitiful-looking," half-starved gray horse he arrived unrecognized and mistaken for drunk until he was cleaned up by his brother-in-law and a faithful "old darky."6 As the University was forced to close its doors in 1867, Martin moved to Columbia, Tennessee, founded a private academy, and taught school for two years. He then joined two of his former Chapel Hill colleagues at Davidson, where he taught generations of boys and filled various leadership positions until his death. From 1884 to 1887 he was college vice-president, and acting president in 1887-88. He was awarded the honorary Doctor of Letters degree from two institutions, Hampden-Sydney College and U. N. C., in 1887 and 1889. Martin introduced laboratory instruction to the struggling liberal arts college, which was surviving Reconstruction largely on the prayers of Presbyterians and the remainder of the bequest received from Salisbury �The Founding and the Founders / 5 merchant Maxwell Chambers shortly before the War. To build up the college's geology program, Martin tramped to the mountains for rock samples, often in the company of Washington Caruthers Kerr, Martin's predecessor as professor of chemistry, mineralogy, and geology at Davidson and state geologist from 1864 to 1882. Another who came with them was probably John Rennie Blake, an 1846 graduate of the University of Georgia and a contemporary of Kerr's at the Lawrence Scientific School in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1856 and 1857, who taught various subjects at Davidson from the Civil War to 1884. Blake and two nephews, W. B. and Robert Arrowood, taught a one-room school in Boone for a time after the War. Both Arrowoods later became Presbyterian ministers, but it is doubtful if their Boone enterprise was ever under the care of the denomination.7 The Colonel and his naturalist companions from the college were living in a generation for many of whom the hand of God in nature was becoming less and less apparent. Uniformitarian principles in geology had disturbed the comfortable belief in a six-thousand year-old earth; fossil studies were revealing extinct species; Charles Darwin's controversial writings posited processes of "natural selection" for the origin of species, and struggle for life, not harmony, as nature's ruling principle. Yet Martin's faith in a personal God did not falter. Tributes collected in memoriam by the college spoke positively of his Christian character and conviction as well as his extensive knowledge and scholarship. A former student, perhaps remembering experiences in the college's required chapel services, wrote: "I loved to hear him pray there was such simplicity, such humility, such childlike faith." Rumple, who kept a sharp eye on the school from his position as secretary of its board of trustees for more than forty years, and who knew him well from summers in Blowing Rock, remarked at Martin's death: Col. Martin's crowning was his absolute faith in God and in his word. His scientific studies did not shake, but only confirmed his faith. He knew that every scientific experiment ended in a mystery-"why" that could not be answered, and wisely reasoned that in the higher region of sacred science there would likewise be unanswerable mysteries. And so he could afford to trust the promises of God, and resign himself to the divine will.8 The Colonel and his wife, Letitia Coddington Coston of Wilmington, indeed understood something of the mysteries of divine will: they lost six of their ten children in infancy. But a son, William J. Martin, Jr., and a daughter, Mary Turpin Martin Sloop, retained lifelong associa- �6 / Chapter One tions with Presbyterian mountain activity, continuing the Colonel's work in the next generation.9 According to property records at the Watauga County Court House, Col. Martin first purchased land in Blowing Rock, a half-acre lot on Main Street near the present Episcopal church, from William M. and Edith M. Morris on October 6, 1886, just seventeen days before the Morrises deeded the property across the street for the Presbyterian church. But he and his family had undoubtedly been spending summers in town long before that date. In any event, two years later he purchased property on Chestnut Hill, and began building the house he called Chestnut Knoll, which still stands. Martin's daughter remembered that the "family was one of the first of the outlanders to establish a summer home at Blowing Rock."10 Another of the early summer residents was the Rev. Dr. Jethro Rumple of Salisbury. When and why the preacher and his family first decided to summer in Blowing Rock is uncertain. In her fascinating memoirs written during the 1930's, Hope Summerell Chamberlain of Salisbury, a member of Rumple's church, recalled being taken to Blowing Rock as a child for the sake of her mother's health; this would have been in the early 1880's. Perhaps the Summerells or other Salisbury Presbyterians introduced Rumple to the mountains; or perhaps the preacher introduced his parishioners to the mountain region he already knew.11 In a newspaper interview given in the late 1930's, Etta Gregorie Norvell said she remembered staying at a Mrs. Brady's boarding house at the same time as Dr. Rumple, late in the season after the Blowing Rock Hotel had closed, during the summer of 1889. This seems a rather late date for Rumple to be in a boarding house, since by then he, like Martin, had purchased a lot from the Morrises, and probably had already built a house on Main Street.12 Toward the end of his long life, he lived in a small summer cottage built for him on the property of his son-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Charles G. Vardell, on Chestnut Hill, a short walk from the Martins. Jethro Rumple was one of the most remarkable Presbyterians and North Carolinians of his generation. "There is scarcely an area of the church's life and work in North Carolina to which at some time in his career Dr. Rumple did not make a significant contribution."13 A prolific writer and preacher, he also pioneered causes in religious education �The Founding and the Founders / 1 and social concern. His belief in the responsibility of the church for its young people was evident all his life. He served almost fifty years on the board of trustees of Davidson College, his alma mater, and was the guiding spirit behind the founding of the Barium Springs Orphanage in Iredell County at about the same time (1888) he was involved in establishing the church in Blowing Rock. Both these institutions later named buildings in his memory. In addition, he served on the board of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, and is reported to have strongly favored the move of that institution from Hampden-Sydney to Richmond in 1895-98. In Salisbury, he was a member of the city public school board and secretary and treasurer of the board of directors of the "State Colored Normal School" which was established there in 1881. He held numerous posts at presbytery and synod level in the church, although he was never elected moderator of the General Assembly. The University of North Carolina honored him with the Doctor of Divinity degree in 1882. Many persons prepared posthumous sketches of Rumple's life, including his daughter, Linda Lee Rumple Vardell. Hers was included in the 1916 edition of Rumple's History of Rowan County.u She noted his birth on March 10, 1827, "in an unpretentious farm-house in Cabarrus County, N.C." and his early love of learning: "we can see the barefoot boy trudging the long way to the rough school house from which the first ambitions of his life must have come to him." He grew up in the Bethpage congregation, attended several "old field schools," and was educated for college by Moses Lingle at Flint Hill in Mecklenburg County. Graduated with distinction from Davidson College in 1850, he alternately taught school and studied at Columbia Theological Seminary, then located in Columbia, S.C., and was licensed to preach the gospel in 1856 by Concord Presbytery, "of which he was the remainder of his life a member." His premier pastorate was at the Providence and Sharon churches in Mecklenburg County; the first of these is one of the historic "seven churches of Mecklenburg," dating to 1764, while the second was an offshoot in 1851.15 Four years later, Rumple was called by the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Salisbury, where he was installed as pastor on November 24, 1860, and "continued to be their faithful and beloved pastor for the remaining years of his life on earth. . . ." Rumple's daughter did not mention, nor did other published contemporary accounts of his life, that the famous preacher was born of unmarried parents. The fact was no secret in the small community he grew up in, and was apparently widely known during his lifetime. "He was the natural son of David Thomas Houston and Mary Winecoff �8 / Chapter One Rumple, the widow of John Rumple, Jr. It is apparent that his parents were kept from marrying, because his maternal grandfather stated in his will that if his daughter Mary Rumple married again she would have no part of his inheritance." Houston's will provided for his "beloved son known by the name of Jetherow Rumple born of Mary Rumple." But Rumple himself seems to have been cared for as a child by his eldest half-brother and wife, Levi and Christine Rumple. It may be that the minister's lifelong regard for the care of unfortunate children stemmed from his awareness of his own background.16 In his prime the Reverend Doctor Rumple was a large and robust man of exceptionally good health, and a vigorous public speaker. His daughter called him "a preacher of the old school, not disdaining the elaborate introduction to his sermons; and his style was clear, his diction elegant, and his moral always helpful and practical." Another who grew up in his congregation remembered, "From three-quarters to a full hour was allowed for the sermon, old fashioned, with all the bones of its structure fully visible, its fourthlys and fifthlys in sequence.... When at last the sermon was over, and the last hymn sung, Dr. Rumple would end the final prayer with a warm (Aye-men) in a tone that sounded as if he were glad to have done; and I would be glad with him."17 His concern for children was noted by all who knew him: he "always kept up his interest in and attendance on the Sunday School[;] he knew all the children in the congregation personally and was loved by them." Rumple and his wife, Jennie E. Wharton of Greensboro, whom he married in 1857, had two sons, Watson Wharton and James Walker, and a daughter, Linda Lee. Both the boys died young: Watson at age eighteen while a student at Davidson, James, "a lawyer of some promise," by drowning at age twenty-nine. Two years before his death James married Jane Dickson Vardell and had a son, James Malcolmson. The young widow thereafter married William J. Martin, Jr., the Colonel's son, whose own first wife had also died. Rumple's daughter married Charles Graves Vardell, Jane Dickson's brother; and thus family connections, first established no doubt during summers at Blowing Rock during the children's youth, were formed between the Rumples, Martins, and Vardells.18 With the Civil War in 1861 came the split in the Presbyterian Church not healed until 1983. Rumple moderated the called meeting of Concord Presbytery, held at Davidson College in June 1861, which reflected locally the process that led to the formation of the Presbyterian Church in the Confederate States of America. During the War he served as secretary of the presbytery's Board of Committee on �The Founding and the Founders / 9 Domestic Missions, which supplied chaplains to the Confederate Army. He took several tours of duty himself as chaplain, including one with Robert E. Lee's army in October 1862, and another, for ten weeks, with General Scales' Brigade of the Army of Northern Virginia. He reported that during the latter "an army church was erected, Bible Classes organized in each Regiment, a Soldier's Christian Association was formed, 400 New Testaments distributed, together with several thousand pages of Tracts, nine members received into the Presbyterian, and several into other churches, about 40 professed conversions . . . and double that number led to ask, What must we do to be saved?" Rumple modestly noted that "other missionaries came and cooperated in this blessed work." Rumple also served on a Synod of North Carolina committee to raise funds for the education of children of deceased Confederate soldiers — a task presbytery, in the straitened circumstances which followed the defeat, declined to fund. In September 1864 he was elected Stated Clerk, a job he held for the next four years. Then during the last months of the conflict, war came home to Concord Presbytery: General George Stoneman's raid passed through much of Western North Carolina, including Watauga County, destroying much property and forcing postponement of presbytery's scheduled spring session.19 The war's end brought confusion to the whole South, and did not exclude organized Presbyterianism. Rumple seems to have been influential in retaining the structure which Southern Presbyterians had forged during the war and in rejecting overtures from the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A., seeking their return — although a minority in Concord Presbytery opposed "hasty and premature" action which would commit the Southern Church to its independent stance.20 On the other hand, he favored continued Southern Presbyterian work among newlyfreed blacks, even if on an increasingly segregated basis. He was one of a two-man committee to sign a pastoral letter in the North Carolina Presbyterian in 1866 which observed that "our Pastors, churches, and people have always recognized [the blacks'] claim to Christian equality and brotherhood, and have rejoiced to have them associated in Christian union and communion in public services and precious sacraments of the Sanctuary." But the letter also encouraged establishment of Sabbath Schools and Day Schools "where the number of colored people is sufficient to require them" and wanted all schools "under the direction of suitable Southern teachers, if such can be obtained."21 Here was revealed the paternalism and fear of Northern influences which hampered much of the Southern church's effort among the freed population during the succeeding years. Already blacks were leaving Presbyterian �10 / Chapter One congregations; Rumple's Salisbury church, which had added "colored" members almost annually since the 1820's, dropped them from its rolls in 1868 after they had "voluntarily connected themselves with the Colored Presbyterian Church in union with the Northern General Assembly."22 When in 1868 Rumple resigned as Stated Clerk, he had already become chairman of presbytery's sustentation committee, which in that era of hard times had the important task of finding financial support for its pastoral responsibilities. From this point on in his long career, Rumple was an earnest and resourceful promoter of evangelism. Almost all the positions he was to hold in the denomination reflected this concern. In the fall of 1869, presbytery took up for the first time since the war consideration of mission work in areas "west of the Blue Ridge Mountains." On behalf of his committee Rumple recommended putting "at least one missionary in each of the missionary counties . . . as soon as practicable, & also that they be empowered, for the more speedy evangelization of that region, to establish one or more mission Schools, as soon as the way shall be open." The major obstacle seems to have been the dearth of trained pastors, because of the war's disruption of schools and seminaries.23 Rumple's committee by 1870 was promoting efforts to "cultivate extensive missionary fields in Yadkin, Burke, McDowell, Yancy [sic], Mitchell, Watauga & Ashe Counties, & hope ere many years to organize a circle of churches in regions where Presbyterianism has never been planted." His report that year identified one of the "charges" in the presbytery as "Jefferson, Boone (Ashe & Watauga Cos)," but no pastor or missionary was specifically named to hold the charge. In 1871, the Rev. B. L. Beall was recommended for a $500 salary for missionary work in presbytery; perhaps he was the unnamed pastor who in the previous year had been instructed to spend two weeks laboring in Ashe and Watauga counties-in January and February! Rumple himself went to work for a spell in the mountains in 1872. Presbytery arranged that "Rev. J. Rumple will spend six weeks in Watauga County, and two weeks at discretion during the summer." At its fall meeting, presumably as a result of interest created by Rumple and his predecessors, presbytery voted to support "the erection of a building for religious and Educational purposes in Watauga Co.," but there was no later record that such a building was ever put up, nor was a location mentioned. Raising funds to support such missionary work seems to have been extraordinarily difficult. Rumple's committee attempted in 1876 to extract the sum of $4.70 from each church in presbytery to pay the regular evangelist's salary— he had preached 166 �The Founding and the Founders 711 times that year—but got no response except from one congregation which "complains of the injustice of the basis of distribution, but does not promise to pay the average."24 Always creative and determined, Rumple in 1876 had his committee recommend the reorganization of the churches in Concord Presbytery into "Clusters for convenience of meeting and cooperation in church work.... At these meetings it shall be in order . . . especially to devise ways and means to search out and supply with the means of grace, the destitute portions of their territory." One such "cluster" formed then brought Lenoir, Watauga, and Jefferson into the relationship which within a few years would bear fruit in Blowing Rock.25 During the decade from 1878 to 1887, the energetic Salisbury pastor took on another project: publishing a series of articles in the North Carolina Presbyterian on the history of the denomination in the state. These articles provide not only an insight into the thinking of Rumple himself, but a good contemporary overview of religious conditions at about the time the Blowing Rock church was founded. What kicked off the project was a discussion at a meeting of synod in 1875 on "Presbyterian Aggressiveness": was the religious body holding its own, or losing ground, when compared to other Protestant groups in North Carolina? Rumple was made a member of the inevitable committee formed to consider the subject and by 1877 was not only chairing the project, but "the labor of preparing the report all fell upon his hands."26 The completed articles ranged far beyond the original topic and are mostly historical, having interest in their own right; only three of more than thirty touched on "aggressiveness." But on this topic, Rumple concluded that the distinctive features of Presbyterianism —its insistence on a methodically trained clergy, "the deliberation with which most of our members connect themselves with the Church," the greater than average amount of its members' contributions — all made for a "more permanent body" than was true of other denominations. Presbyterians had played a role in the state out of proportion to their numbers, it was true. But the answer to "the question whether we have been doing and are now doing our whole duty in the field" required knowing "what the obstacles are that have impeded our progress, what have been the causes of past and present failure, and what are the Scriptural remedies." He thought the Book of Church Order was too brief and general on the "means of extending our church into destitute regions, or heathen lands," tempting "our ministers and Presbyteries ... to regard the preaching of the Gospel to established churches as the great, all-absorbing design of our church organization."27 To remedy the situation Rumple invoked the language of battle: �12 / Chapter One Now if it is right to receive instruction from an enemy, it is surely much more allowed to learn wisdom from the experience of our brethren of other religious denominations. While we would not abandon our habit of entrenching, and fortifying the ground already occupied, for any system of advancement however plausible, or successful, we could and should superadd to the pastoral system a more faithful and diligent developement [sic] of the Evangelistic arm of our church. . . . [O]ur five Presbyteries [in North Carolina] have scarcely five evangelists, all told. Not onetwentieth part of our ministers are evangelists. . . . We urgently need a reformation of popular sentiment upon this matter.25 While Rumple rejected the Methodist system of bishops to supervise and appoint missionaries, he proposed to learn from their practice of training laypeople to take more active part "without remuneration" in local church work. He also believed the denomination might need to "pray for a peculiar set of laborers who like Paul... and others would consent to waive their right of leading about a wife, in order that they might devote themselves more fully to evangelistic work, men who would face poverty in order to plant the Gospel in destitute regions and build up churches on no other man's foundation. It is scriptural to be willing to endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ/'29 In concluding his articles on "Aggressiveness," Rumple changed his figure of speech to reflect the times: In the loose agricultural and commercial systems of other days, when railroads and telegraphs were not yet dreamed of[,] when markets were distant, competition limited, and long credits the rule on all sides, men could afford to do business in a careless way. ... But in the more rapid transactions of modern days, when small profits, cash payments, quick returns, and urgent competition are in vogue, the old course of business would be simply ruinous. And so in these modern times, when great activity and energy characterize many of the churches . . . the fruits of a large part of our missionary and evangelistic work have been gathered by other denominations because we are slow in planting churches and in gathering in members. It is our duty to practice the wisdom of the serpent as well as the harmlessness of the dove.30 By 1879, the synod was discussing the appointment of a synodical evangelist to promote the cause of "aggressiveness." Frustrated perhaps by division over the issue at the presbytery level, synod in October 1879 elected the Rev. Charles Montgomery Payne "the first agent of Evangelistic Labor" and held the first synodical home missionary meeting in North Carolina.31 The next decade was to see a substantial �The Founding and the Founders / 13 expansion of church planting, with redoubled efforts by both presbytery and synodical evangelists. The Blowing Rock church was to be one result. ***** The still-unincorporated village of Blowing Rock which Rumple and his friends knew in 1880 had a population of 339, living in 56 "families" (a census term, later changed to "households"). Almost all were farmers. Only two "merchant farmers," a schoolteacher, a nurse, and a music teacher (male) stood apart from the norm. Many of the families whose descendants later associated with the Presbyterian Church— Pitts, Sudderth, Greene, Coffey, Hartley, Oxendine-were already living in the township, but not one of them was among the eight charter members of 1887, whose names do not appear on the census rolls for 1880. One of the "merchant farmers" listed was William M. Morris, who with his wife Edith Matilda Morris had moved to Blowing Rock within the previous decade. They had bought "the old Amos Greene place about 1874 and opened a house for summer boarders."32 The property they owned on Main Street was extensive. Four children, a son and three daughters, were listed in the family as of 1880, the two eldest "at school." Morris's store became the legal center of the town when it was incorporated and its limits defined by act of the North Carolina General Assembly on March 11, 1889: Blowing Rock extended threefourths of a mile in every direction from his "store-house." Morris's boarding house operation had become increasingly typical for the town by that time. Even before the Civil War, a few families seem to have visited the mountains, but the number of summer people grew only after the War and its aftermath.33 Arthur singled out Morris for special praise in his reminiscences: He was most successful, and the good things he furnished for his boarders to eat will forever be remembered by all who had the good fortune to sit at his table. He had a most remarkable little benchlegged cow, which gave oceans of the richest milk imaginable. His deep featherbeds were good for tired legs after a day's wading in the creeks fishing for speckled trout. One presumes Edith Matilda Morris, and probably her daughters, also had something to do with the food served and hospitality shown the guests! Arthur mentions a couple of other early boarding house �14 / Chapter One keepers: Len Estes, who "looked like General Grant," built a house, a sawmill, and the dam on what would later be the Chetola estate, and later "moved West"; and W. W. Sherrell, who "bought the Harper property and opened two or three small houses for summer boarders about 1877 or 1878 at Fairview." Sherrell (Sherrill) would later join Rumple Church.34 By the later 1880's, hotels were springing up to meet the growing demand for summer residences. The Green Park Inn, then in the separate Caldwell County town of Green Park, claims local precedence: it was built in 1883. No detailed census records exist for 1890, but in 1900 enumerators counted 805 people in 166 "families" in Blowing Rock; perhaps most notably for the shape the town was taking in its first full year of incorporation, five residents were listed as hotel proprietors or hotel keepers, while several new names were shown taking in boarders. Blowing Rock now also boasted two physicians (George W. Roby and Calvin J. Parlier), a postmaster (William Edmisten), a dentist (Andrew J. Toppings), several craftsmen of varying trades, a butcher, and, among the servants, an eleven year-old boy "wood chopper" for two school teacher sisters, Mollie M. and Gabria (Gabrielle) E. Blair, the latter a recent valedictorian graduate of the Skyland Institute, which, like the Presbyterian church, had been established in 1887. The only "preacher" listed in 1900 was a black man, 45 year-old George W. James, boarding with a black school teacher named Long. Most of the town's residents were still farmers, but already had come a New York-born "retired merchant" and his wife, Ogdon (Ogden) E. and Mary C. Edwards, the first of a much later trend. Summer resident Gaston Gage remembered "Colonel" Edwards from his childhood: he was tall, thin, always wore a skull cap, and repeated for the children lore and sayings he had picked up on his world travels. "Apparently he had made and lost a number of fortunes," Gage recalled. Mary Edwards founded the "Community Service Fund," a predecessor organization to the Blowing Rock Community Club, which still functions. By that time, too, Moses Cone, textile magnate of Greensboro, had begun to develop his estate out from the center of town. Many local residents were earning cash money working among his crops, orchards, and livestock. So "outlanders" were already beginning to make their mark in the growing community.35 In her 1882 letter, Emma Stewart called attention to the "religious destitution" of the town. How accurate was this estimation? It is true that no permanent place of worship seems to have been established before the Presbyterians erected their structure in 1886; but the public morals of the community during the 1880's appear to have been, by the �The Founding and the Founders / 15 standards of the times, restrained and decorous. Not that there was much real trouble to get into. In a day when waiting for the mail could occupy one for hours, the few public amusements were tame: gathering wildflowers, going on a picnic, taking a walk, fishing in one of the various forks. Nostalgia may have colored the reminiscences preserved of those early days in the community, but when in the next generation Blowing Rock was favored by a smarter set, oldtimers decried seeing grown women "riding astride," not observing the Sabbath, chewing gum "as a goat would a towel he had pulled from the clothes line," and drinking soft drinks with their beaux in public.36 Perhaps it was the Presbyterians which gave the decorous tone to the early summer colony; or perhaps the wave of new arrivals of German-American extraction, who began moving into the town during the same era, brought a class of solid-citizen types to town; for whatever reason, the recorded memories of early Blowing Rock seem pale beside those left from the more boisterous past of Boone, the county's largest town and seat of government.37 ***** At the same time the Presbyterians were making their bid to form a church in Blowing Rock, a similar effort was underway by the German Reformed Church. In 1882, the same year Mrs. Stewart's letter was published, the Reverend John Ingle, of that denomination, preached a sermon at the Blowing Rock home of Jacob Kluttz, a recent arrival from the German settled area of Rowan or Caldwell counties. Seeing the need for a minister's services, Ingle moved his family up the mountain the following April and "at once began to hold services in a school house at the location of the present village and organized a Sunday School." By 1884, Ingle had convinced the North Carolina Classis (the Reformed equivalent of the Presbyterian Synod, a statewide organization or "court" of clergy and lay elders) to support a "Watauga Mission." Thus a congregation "Calvinistic in faith and Presbyterian in church government," as Dr. Rumple said of this denomination, was already being formed in the mid-1880's.38 Perhaps these concurrent efforts spurred Rumple on; in any event, at the fall 1885 meeting of presbytery, things began moving more rapidly. On October 15, the Committee on Home Missions "was directed to consider the propriety and means of erecting a Presbyterian chapel at Blowing Rock in Watauga Co." The next day, pre- �16 / Chapter One sumably after much prayer and deliberation by the committee, the full court agreed to "look with favor upon the scheme" and to provide $150 toward the project when the remainder of the funds had been raised by other contributors. The following March the committee met to appoint the Rev. C. A. Munroe and Captain E. W. Fawcette of Lenoir to "undertake at once the erection of a church building at Blowing Rock" and requested presbytery to apply the $50 already raised for a church at Jefferson (which had folded five years earlier) to the Blowing Rock cause. Supply ministers, including Rumple, were appointed for the summer of 1886, who were to be entertained "as far as practicable" by the Lenoir men and their travel expenses defrayed by whatever collections were obtained at the services.39 At its April 1886 meeting, presbytery approved the committee's report. Work on the building probably began that spring. It must have proceeded rapidly. The chapel was small, of simple frame construction, with a tower whose bell reportedly could be heard for two miles in every direction. Its total cost was $677.93. According to the 1936 history, "the whole community united in the erection of the church, but the local contributions, material, etc., were not at the time noted." Munroe's account to presbytery in April 1887 did note that "proprietors of B. R. Hotel and others did gratuitous hauling," indicating that the Blowing Rock hotel, which opened in 1888 and stood at the south end of Main Street for many years, must also have been under construction that summer. Other gifts to furnish the building were recorded: a Bible from Miss Lizzie Kerr, a hymn book by ladies of the Salisbury church, organ by Mrs. Rumple, pulpit lamps by a Mrs. and Miss Pegram, communion service by the Rev. B. L. Beall, two pulpit chairs by Mrs. Stewart, lumber for the pulpit by Capt. W. W. Lenoir, and hymnbooks by the publication committee of the denomination. Except for Mrs. Stewart, all these people seem to have been affiliated with either the Salisbury or the Lenoir churches, an important indication of the network of support which helped sustain the fledgling mountain mission during its early years. Some of these items remain at the church to this day: the large pulpit Bible, the pulpit, possibly the chairs, and perhaps the organ. It is unlikely that the original bell was moved to the present structure, but its ringing of the eleven o'clock hour every Sunday morning carries on a one hundred year-old custom.40 The fourth Sunday in July, 1886, was a great day for organized religion in Blowing Rock. On the very same day Rumple and others dedicated the new Presbyterian chapel, the Reformed congregation was organizing, in a building called the "Estes Schoolhouse." The �The Founding and the Founders I 17 Mount Bethel house of worship was probably not built until 1894;41 but when it was organized in 1886 the Reformed congregation was twice the size (sixteen) of the Presbyterian flock of a year later. Were the two denominations competing for members? Probably not. A list of the first Reformed communicants shows a preponderance of names of German origin: Holshousers, Kluttzes, Lentzes, Trexlers, Bollingers. Descendants of most of these families would later join Rumple Church, but at first the new arrivals seem to have been loyal to denominational ties, and perhaps patterns of organized worship, inherited from earlier generations at places in the western Piedmont, especially Rowan County. And while the first regular Presbyterian membership also seems to have been recruited largely among newcomers to the county, several factors probably accounted for the success of the Presbyterians: first, there was the support from the Lenoir Church, which, although sporadic to begin with, at least gave the little flock a connection to a larger statewide and regional structure of organization than was available to the Reformed membership. Then there was the summer resident support: the increasingly numerous, and more affluent, seasonal visitors swelled the ranks of worshippers and allowed a larger base of financial undergirding. The more central location of the Presbyterian chapel also likely favored its more rapid growth. A final factor was undoubtedly the arrival in 1897 of the young Edgar Tufts, whose energy and devotion to his work spilled over the Grandfather and touched Blowing Rock. In the end, these advantages outweighed the early and earnest effort at the Reformed Church. In 1900 Ingle gave his occupation to census takers as "farmer": he probably preached only part-time and received little income from his churchly duties. The congregation was "irregularly supplied" from year to year through the next two decades by at least six other ministers. Its only regular pastoral care after the fall of 1903 came from a missionary from Lenoir. Membership in 1911 was listed as thirteen. In 1912, the Rev. and Mrs. Ingle joined the Rumple congregation, although he still was listed as of 1917 in the Reformed Church's statistical reports as "without charge" and living in Green Park. In 1919, at the age of eighty-four, he reportedly preached for a year at the Blowing Rock Baptist Church until a new minister could be found. The Reformed congregation itself "was unfortunately lost to the denomination in 1921 when only four members were reported."42 By the time of the July 1886 dedication service the little Presbyterian chapel still lacked "brick pillars and an enclosure to make the job complete."43 No matter the state of the structure, it must have resounded that Sunday with the full force of Rumple's formidable ora- �18 / Chapter One torical skills, and Mrs. Rumple's applying of her musical talents to the little pump organ. The sermon would later be remembered as a prophecy of the church's success. Rumple took his text from Psalm 72:16 — "There shall be a handful of corn in the earth upon the top of the mountains. The fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon and they of the city shall flourish." Rumple could not have anticipated how Lebanon itself would shake quite literally by the 1980's. But he demonstrated his faith in the "handful of corn" being sowed in his beloved mountains. Later that summer, supplies appointed by presbytery took their turns filling the new pulpit: the Rev. J. M. Wharey on the first and second Sundays in August, and Munroe on the fifth Sunday. It is not clear if the Rev. Beall preached as he was appointed to, on the third and fourth Sundays.44 To further insure the harvest, Rumple and Munroe arranged to conduct "a protracted meeting at Blowing Rock, including the 5th Sabbath of October." No doubt it was hoped that all these efforts would bring in enough new members to keep the new work going. Formal organization would await the results of these labors in the following year. ***** The Presbyterians' chapel was almost finished—indeed, it had already been dedicated-before the land on which it stood was officially signed over to them. The deed to the property was dated October 23, 1886. Witnessed by Joe B. Clark(e), justice of the peace and later the town's first mayor, it conveyed to the new church's trustees the land "Beginning at a sugar maple on the West side of the Caldwell and Watauga Turnpike Road" and bordered by property of the Morrises on one side and H. F. Schenck on the other. The lot contained "seven tenths of an acre, more or less" and was to be "for the only use and behoof of said church forever." An interesting confirmation of the legal status of women in that era was that Clark was required to examine Mrs. Morris separately from her husband "tending to her voluntary execution" of the property deed and to certify that she "signed freely and voluntarily without fear or compulsion of her said husband or any other person and that she doth voluntarily assent thereto."45 It would be helpful to know just how and when the Morrises were persuaded to donate the lot. One clue might be found in the fact that during the same month in which the Presbyterians got their lot for free, the Morrises were selling lots to several private buyers, among �The Founding and the Founders / 19 whom were Martin and Rumple. On October 6, the Colonel bought a half-acre from them, for $100, on the east side of the "Turnpike Road." Then on October 23, the preacher secured a lot of similar size across the street, close to the church property, for $50. Also that day David A. Atwell of Rowan County, and Dr. Frank A. Shaffner of Forsyth County, bought tracts of about the same size, for $100 and $50 respectively. Perhaps these land sales sweetened the pot, or satisfied the Morrises' need for some immediate cash. Two years later, the couple also sold "for $1" a one-fourth acre tract to trustees for the Protestant Episcopal Church, diocese of North Carolina, who also got another onefourth acre from S. M. and Emma S. Clarke, for the erection of an Episcopal house of worship. The Morrises thus were benefactors of two churches, but the Presbyterians ultimately obtained their membership; they joined in 1891. Later they left the county and moved "east of the Blue Ridge."46 The first trustees of the church property were all prominent Presbyterians from Lenoir: the Rev. Benjamin Leander Beall, his brother Dr. Robert Lamar Beall, and Capt. E. W. Fawcette. Beall had helped organize the Lenoir church in 1852, and had served that congregation as stated supply from 1879 to 1882. He was twice evangelist for Concord Presbytery, 1868-1872 and 1883-1888. Nearly sixty years old in 1886, he was injured two years later in a railroad accident while returning from a preaching appointment in Burke County and had to give up his post. He "had the unique privilege of reading his own obituary" when his death was at first reported after the wreck. He lived on until his eighty-sixth year, but "never ceased to suffer bodily pain." It was said of him when he died in 1913 that he and the Rev. Jesse Rankin of Lenoir (one of Rankin's daughters was BealFs first wife, and a niece was married to Rumple) were "the pioneers of Presbyterian Evangelism in Western North Carolina." Laboring mainly in the mountains, he preached "in season and out of season, in log school houses, in store buildings and in private homes from house to house" over territory from Ashe to Macon counties. "Eternity alone will reveal the full fruitage of the good seed he scattered in that large territory of Gospel destitution," C. A. Munroe recalled. He also thought Beall to be "thoroughly orthodox, . . . perhaps the most conservative preacher on all points of Christian doctrine and church polity in Concord Presbytery."47 The other Lenoir trustees, both laymen, were long active in the life of the church there as members of the session, the Sunday school, and various other boards and committees. Robert Lamar Beall was a physician, Edward William Fawcette an educator. The latter was in turn a �20 / Chapter One founder of the Patterson School, president of Concord Female College and Statesville Female College, and a school in Johnson City, Tennessee. He ended his career as head of Finley High School in Lenoir.48 The names of these three men were listed as the trustees of the Blowing Rock church property until 1954. By the end of summer, 1886, the new church was clearly functioning. To insure its continued operation, presbytery arranged that over the winter of 1886-1887 Munroe "be appointed to preach one Sabbath each month at the Blowing Rock Chapel,... his churches agreeing thereto, and that the Home Mission Committee supply Mr. Munroe's pulpit during his absence at Blowing Rock. . . ." Further, it placed the "the Blowing Rock Chapel and Sabbath School . . . under the care of the Lenoir Session until a minister is appointed to that field." Munroe was also given "commission to receive members and organize a church, if the way be clear." This arrangement was renewed the following spring for the months of April, May, and June 1887.49 Rumple, too, probably returned to preach in the summer of 1887. The mountains were certainly on his mind that year. It was the semicentennial of Davidson's founding, and Rumple was on the campus to give the historical address. In flowery rhetoric he compared the college, as a "fountain of pure learning," to the "head-springs of the four noble rivers, the Yadkin, the Catawba, the Watauga, and the Great Kanawha, streams that diverge to the four quarters of the earth" from their origins at Blowing Rock, "the towering apex of eastern America."50 Colin Alexander Munroe had a long and honorable career in the Presbyterian Church, U.S. Born at Troy, N.C., in 1844, he was the eldest of three preacher brothers, all of whom attended Davidson College and Union Seminary. C. A. graduated in 1872 at Davidson and in 1876 at Union. Munroe was already a veteran of the Confederate Army before he started college; he must have taken classes there under that other old soldier, Col. Martin. He later was a member of the college's board of trustees. His alma mater awarded him the D.D. degree in 1915, and he died at Davidson four years later. Licensed in Fayetteville Presbytery upon completing his seminary studies, Munroe briefly supplied two churches there, then was called to Mississippi, where he was ordained in 1877. In 1883, he returned to Concord Presbytery as evangelist for its "Western Field." Working out of the newly-organized church at Old Fort, he fulfilled these duties for at least one year. Then in 1884 he moved to Huntington, West Virginia, for reasons unknown, and was called by the church there in 1885. At the same time, he held a call to the Lenoir and Hickory churches. "It �The Founding and the Founders 7 2 1 was the call of these two churches [that] he accepted, and he was received back into Concord Presbytery on June 19, 1885." From then until 1903, he served the Lenoir charge (the Hickory church received its own full-time pastor in 1891). In that year Concord Presbytery again named him evangelist. He took up residence in Hickory and resumed his travels, resigning in 1917 due to ill health. Munroe held the second-longest pastorate in the history of the Lenoir church. His recollections of activities there, some of which were published in that church's history, gave insight into what worship was like in that era, and as the church was so close geographically and organizationally to the fledgling congregation in Blowing Rock, they described what must have been similar practices at both churches. Because some of the Lenoir members also made a habit of spending summers in the mountains (one thinks of the Harpers, probably also the S. M. Clarkes, and somewhat later the Bernhardts), they would themselves have shared in them.51 "Communion Days" were impressive, awe-inspiring occasions and usually lasted for a weekend. Wine was served to all in one special chalice reserved for the occasions.... We see the gatherings of the little group-friends coming in from the country and staying at least through the weekend-the McGalliards, the Corpenings, Greys, Abernathys, Dicksons, Glasses and others. . . . There was heart-searching preaching, usually by a visiting minister. There was the opening of the doors of the church and always a pointed and evangelistic appeal. And then when Sunday came, there was the white table spread in the early morning hours, which on other Sabbaths was taken by Sunday School. Students . . . had given up their usual Friday evening social and as the hour for the observance of the Sacrament drew nigh, it was as though a spirit of reverence and of loving awe walled the quiet streets and country roads. The sermon and then the call separated the communicants from the non-professing Christians. The little organ was silenced and Captain Faucette [sic] 'raised the tune[.]' Always it was 'T'was on That Dark and Doleful Night,' sung to the minor strains of Windham.'... The service closed with the singing of 'Home Sweet Home . . . Prepare me, dear Saviour, for Heaven, my home.' It was Munroe who, in the summer of 1887, returned up the mountain to organize the church at Blowing Rock. At the fall meeting of presbytery, in Newton, he reported he had completed his appointed task on July 17. He had enrolled eight charter members: Mrs. Rosa Watkins, by letter Miss Sarah Walser, by examination �22 / Chapter One Mrs. Mary Ann Patterson, by examination Mr. Spurgeon Walser, by examination Mrs. Martha Walser, by letter Samuel J. Walser, by examination Miss Mary Walser, by letter, Baptist Mr. Arthur Parks, by letter. Nothing is known of Watkins, Patterson, or Parks. They must not have lived long in the community, as they were not there in 1880 and were gone by 1900. But the Walsers do appear on the 1900 census for the town; many of their descendants lived in Blowing Rock in later generations, and were active at Rumple Church; at least one of their descendants, Paul Walser, attends currently. Spurgeon Walser and his wife, Martha, both fifty years old, had been married twenty-three years as of 1887. Two of their children, still living at home as of 1900, joined the church with them: Mary was eighteen, Samuel was ten. Sarah may have been another daughter, or, if she was incorrectly recorded as "Miss," their daughter-in-law, the twenty year-old wife of William Walser, head of one of two other Walser families in town; these men, William and David, were probably also Spurgeon and Martha's children. Martha gave birth to her last child, Robert, in April of 1888. As of 1887 there would have been another little girl, Annie, age three, as yet too young to join the church. Both these would join Rumple in 1899; "Rob" Walser would spend many of his adult years as Sunday school superintendent during the 1940's.52 Other additions to the membership came in the next two years; perhaps Rumple or Munroe held more "protracted meetings." Mrs. Willie Clark, Rufus Brady, and Mrs. M. J. Brady joined by letter from other Presbyterian churches (place or places unknown). Mrs. Brady was likely the boarding house keeper with whom Rumple is reported to have stayed in the summer of 1889; neither the Bradys nor Mrs. Clark appear on the 1900 census. Not until 1891 were more names put on the rolls. The Rev. R. P. Pell, synodical evangelist, and Munroe at that time added the previously-mentioned Morrises, their daughter, Bessie, who would have been fourteen, and E. (Edward?) G. Morris, listed on the 1900 census as a carpenter with six children. E. G. Morris's wife, Doxy, joined the church the next month. Perhaps he was a grown son of William and Edith. Also joining the fold were E. (Elcana) G. Clure (Clewer, on the census returns), age 61, a farm laborer, and his wife, Martha, age 47; Mrs. Martha Kershea; Mrs. Martha Kirby (not found on the 1900 census); and H. W. Weedon (Weeden). Mrs. Mary W. Weedon also joined, "by letter from the Methodist church."53 �The Founding and the Founders / 23 ***** And so the efforts of Emma Stewart and her friends had borne fruit. A church had been planted in a "destitute region." It was the only church Concord Presbytery organized that year, though more were to follow. Like many country churches, it had no regular pastor. Services were held rarely, if at all, through the winter, perhaps almost weekly during the summer if Rumple or other ministers were in town. There is no way to know how often Munroe rode up the mountain from Lenoir, or how scrupulously the Lenoir session cared for the little flock's needs. Session minutes of the Lenoir church never mention Blowing Rock through this period. No local session (that is, lay elders) to conduct church business was at this time provided: the few original members could hardly have made one up, especially since women, six of the eight, were not then permitted to hold church office. The records hint at a Sunday school, but give no indication of attendance, names of teachers, or any other such data for the period. All the evidence points to the fact that Blowing Rock was a transitional type of church, more a convenience for the summer people who had church homes elsewhere than a truly local one. For a decade the church would struggle along, adding a few members when a visiting preacher would enroll them. Munroe seems to have severed his relationship with Blowing Rock in 1891 when he took full-time charge of the Lenoir congregation; in 1892 a presbytery report indicated the Blowing Rock pulpit was vacant. Perhaps it was served thereafter only in the summertime, by Rumple or other vacationing preachers, or by an occasional evangelist.54 Its success would not be assured until a man arrived, at the start of its second decade, who epitomized a new spirit abroad in mountain missions: Edgar Tufts. �24 / Chapter One Notes for Chapter One 1. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Vol. 9, pp. 94-95. Printed copy at The Historical Foundation of the Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, Inc., Montreat, NC. Xeroxed copies of the printed and the original handwritten minutes are in the RMPC records. 2. Watauga County Court House, Register of Deeds Office. On the Stewarts: oral interviews with Helen Hartley, April 1987; Julia Keys Williams, April 1987; Jo Greene, July 1987. See also "Music Made Farm House Popular Attraction Here," and "Around Town," The Blowing Rocket, The Blowing Rock Story, special Bicentennial issue (first published July 1976, reissued 1983), pp. 55, 8. Hereinafter cited as The Blowing Rocket, special edition. Dr. Chalmers G. Davidson kindly supplied the information concerning "Stuarts Inn"; in 1896-97 students paid $10 a month to board there. 3. North Carolina Presbyterian, October 18, 1882 (New Series, Vol. XV, No. 771), p. 2. Microfilm copy at The Historical Foundation, Montreat. 4. E. C. Clark, comp., Ministerial Directory of the Presbyterian Church, U. S., 1861-1941 (Austin, TX: Von Boeckmann-Jones, 1942). Later editions by various editors and with different dates of publication. Hereinafter cited as Ministerial Directory, and year of edition. Dr. Davidson kindly supplied the dates of Johnston's service on Davidson College's board of trustees. 5. I have been unable to locate a settlement or post office in the county named Morris. By the 1880's there was one called N orris, and another at Moretz's Mill, both on Meat Camp Creek. But since W. M. Morris took summer boarders, it is possible that the Penicks actually were staying in Blowing Rock. I am grateful to Mrs. Evelyn Shepherd and Mr. Eric Olson for helping my search. The letters cited in these paragraphs have been preserved at the church; they must have come down from the Martin or the Vardell families. Both the Colonel's son and Rumple's son-in-law prepared the semicentennial sketch of the church's history, which referred to the existence of the letters. 6. Mary T. Martin Sloop with Legette Blythe, Miracle in the Hills (New York: McGraw Hill, 1953), pp. 11-12. See also Benjamin F. Garrett, "The First Fifty Years of Chemistry at Davidson," Briarpatch, March 1980. The article was researched and written by a chemistry professor at the college. 7. John Preston Arthur, A History of Watauga County, North Carolina. With Sketches of Prominent Families (Richmond: Everett Waddey Co., 1915; repr. 1976), p. 251. If Arthur was correct, the Arrowood brothers would have been very young-or the school was being conducted later than he recalled. William Butler and Robert Silvanus Arrowood were born in 1850 and 1854, respectively; both graduated from Davidson College (in 1876 and 1877) and William from Union Theological Seminary in 1879; there is no record that Robert ever attended seminary, although he was licensed and ordained in Concord Presbytery in 1886. E. C. Clark, comp., Ministerial Directory, p. 21. See also Neill Roderick McGeachy, Confronted By Challenge: A History of the Presbytery of Concord 1795-1973 (n.p.: The Delmar Co., 1985) (hereinafter cited as �The Founding and the Founders / 25 McGeachy, Confronted], p. 389, where he notes that R. S. Arrowood's ordination must have come "under what, today, is called 'extraordinary clause.'" 8. Tribute from the Rev. J. Rumple, D.D., in The Davidson Monthly (April 1896), Memorial number to Col. William J. Martin, p. 264. 9. Chalmers G. Davidson, Davidson College press release, "A collection of letters and papers of the William Joseph Martin family . . ." n.d., p. 1. 10. Sloop, Miracle in the Hills, p. 20. 11. Hope Summerell Chamberlain, This Was Home (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1938), pp. 212-220. This section of her book gives an evocative account of what the tiny summer community of Blowing Rock was like, in a child's eyes, at this early date. 12. "Norvell Visit in 1889," The Blowing Rocket, special Bicentennial issue (1983 reissue), p. 3. The house Rumple built on Main Street still stands, much remodeled, just north of the Methodist Church, and set well back from the road. The rear of the property must have had a commanding view of the John's River gorge in the early days, since so much of the area had at that time been recently timbered. 13. Jethro Rumple, The History of Presbyterianism in North Carolina (Richmond: The Library of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, 1966); reprinted from the North Carolina Presbyterian 1878-1887; foreword by H. M. Brimm, i. Hereinafter cited as Rumple, Presbyterianism. Several short sketches of Rumple's life and career are collected in this volume, pp. iii-xii, 299-302, and have been sources for these paragraphs. I am also grateful to First Presbyterian Church, Salisbury, for allowing me to copy local press clippings describing his death, funeral, and career, which are among the church's historical memorabilia. 14. "Sketch of Author" by Mrs. Linda Rumple Vardell, pp. 13-18, in Jethro Rumple, A History of Rowan County North Carolina, Containing Sketches of Prominent Families and Distinguished Men (Salisbury, NC: J. J. Bruner, 1881). Republished by the Elizabeth Maxwell Steele Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, 1916, 1929. Hereinafter cited as Rumple, A History. Rumple wrote this work as a series of serial articles for the Carolina Watchman, a Salisbury newspaper with statewide circulation. Another biographical sketch was written about the time of Rumple's death by the Rev. Dr. John B. Shearer of Davidson in Samuel A. Ashe, ed., Biographical History of North Carolina from Colonial Times to the Present (Greensboro, NC: Charles L. Van Noppen, 1905), III, 375-385. Hereinafter cited as Shearer, "Jethro Rumple." 15. After 1869 both these congregations belonged to Mecklenburg Presbytery. See Rumple's own sketches of these churches' histories in Presbyterianism, pp. 50-51 and passim. 16. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 416, citing a member of the Rumple family. 17. Ibid, p. 417. Shearer said it was Rumple's "custom to examine his texts in the original Hebrew and Greek languages" and that he was never satisfied �26 / Chapter One "until he thought he was teaching the people something" from the pulpit: Shearer, "Jethro Rumple," p. 382. Reference furnished by Mrs. Linda Yarnell. 18. The Vardell family has kept an extensive family history and genealogy up to date, most of it the work of Jean Vardell Martin Foil. A copy lent to the author by Linda Yarnell has been helpful for establishing these various family relationships. 19. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 230-263, 296. 20. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 264-292, has interesting documentation of the effects of the defeat upon Concord Presbytery. As an indicator of Rumpie's sympathies, it may be noted that when it became necessary to choose a new president of Davidson College in 1866, the Rev. George Wilson McPhail of Norfolk, Va., who had spent the War years in Philadelphia but who was "a Southern man of Southern sympathies," was elected. Rumple, a member of the Davidson Board of Trustees from 1859 until his death in 1906, no doubt had concurred in MePhaiFs election; ibid., pp. 293-294. At a called General Assembly in Macon, Ga., in December, 1865, Southern Presbyterians renamed their body "The Presbyterian Church in the United States," usually abbreviated PCUS. 21. Ibid., pp. 274-276. 22. Josephine Kluttz Krider, History of the First Presbyterian Church, Salisbury, North Carolina (hereinafter cited as Krider, First Church], p. 55. For evidence of the loss of black membership throughout the denomination, see McGeachy, Confronted, p. 311. Concord Presbytery's reaction in 1868: "all we can do is wait, until, in the Providence of God, they shall return to the fold from which they have strayed." See also Ernest Trice Thompson, Presbyterians in The South, 3 vols. (Richmond: John Knox Press, 1963-1973) (hereinafter cited as Thompson, Presbyterians), II, 99; he notes that although at the 1866 General Assembly the denomination "recognized that the old relation between master and slave had been overthrown" by the War, the "dogma which asserted the inherent sinfulness of slavery . . . was solemnly declared to be unscriptural and fanatical. . . ." 23. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 325. For Rumple's activities in this period, see chapters 12 and 13. McGeachy notes however, pp. 319-320, that the miscellaneous records of presbytery are fragmented and mostly lost for the years 1870 to 1937. 24. Ibid., pp. 328, 336, 342, 351. 25. Ibid., pp. 354-355. Presbytery records show the Jefferson church, founded in 1863, was dissolved in 1880, and its membership transferred to Wilkesboro; ibid., p. 370. 26. J. Rumple, "Presbyterianism in North Carolina, Introductory," January 30, 1878, in Rumple, Presbyterianism, p. 1. All citations are to page numbers in the reprint edition; dates are those of original publication. 27. "Aggressiveness," November 6, 1878; Rumple, History, pp. 105-107. �The Founding and the Founders / 27 28. "Obstacles in the Way of Progress," November 13, 1878; Ibid., pp. 108-111. 29. Rumple also doubted whether the average Presbyterian preacher "as a rule, preaches often enough. The demand of a country church is two sermons a week during summer and once a week in the winter. The town or city preacher is expected to preach twice a week the year round, and to lecture once a week." Preachers, he thought, could re-use their sermons to different audiences, thus "colonizing" for the faith "in destitute neighborhoods, in school houses, and in private dwellings." Ibid. 30. Ibid. 31. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 370. Thompson's otherwise authoritative Presbyterians, II, 31, says the North Carolina plan of synodical evangelization was the second in the PCUS, and not adopted until 1889, after the model had been pioneered in Kentucky in 1881. Perhaps it was the absence of the title "synodical evangelist" which led Thompson to overlook the North Carolina effort. His source, David I. Craig, A History of the Development of the Presbyterian Church in North Carolina, and of Synodical Home Missions (Richmond: Whittet and Shepperson, 1907) is admittedly ambiguous on the subject. According to McGeachy, citing Craig, the Rev. Payne served as synod's "Agent of Evangelistic Labor" until 1884, but the "first synodical evangelist" was the Rev. William D. Morton, who was indeed appointed first in 1889. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 385, 400. The matter is of some importance, as Thompson makes much of the Kentucky example as inspiration throughout the church. 32. Arthur, History of Watauga County, p. 218. Census data for 1880 and 1900 from Carl A. Ross, Jr., ed. 1880 Census of Watauga County and 1900 Census of Watauga County (Boone: Department of History, Appalachian State University, 1983, 1984). Hereinafter cited as Ross, Census. 33. Among the pre-War visitors were the G. W. F. Harpers of Lenoir, active Presbyterians and merchant-farmers like the Morrises. Theirs was apparently the first permanent home built by non-residents in the thenunincorporated village. A descendant of the original Harper is Gwyn Harper of Hickory, a summer member of Rumple Church and quite knowledgeable about the region's early history. Another member of the Harper family, James C. Harper, during the 1840's surveyed what later became the C aid well and Watauga Turnpike, still later U.S. Highway 321, between Blowing Rock and Lenoir. Another early local worthy who passed through the community before the War was Mrs. William B. (Alice Bostwick) Councill, of Sumter, S.C., who recalled picnicking at The Blowing Rock with her new husband in 1852 and being greeted by two "wild looking" mountain men paying their respects to the young doctor, son of the prominent Boone storekeeper, and his bride. "Harper Recalls Rock When He Was A Boy," and "1852 Trip to Blowing Rock Was Most Dangerous Then," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, pp. 5, 56. 34. Arthur, History of Watauga County, p. 218. 35. Ross, Census, 1900; "Skyland Memories" and "Community Club History is Given," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, pp. 77, 16; Ruth Vardell Gage �28 / Chapter One and Gaston Gage, "Blowing Rock Memories, 1899-1975," typescript copy furnished to the author by their son, Charles Vardell Gage (hereinafter cited as Gage-Vardell, "Memories"), no pagination. Another reminiscer, Mrs. C. D. Mackey, interviewed many years ago, believed that the Edwardses "have good claim to the title of founders of the summer colony." "Blowing Rock in 1889," and "Cone Family Left The Mountains A Richer Place," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, pp. 67, 24. 36. "Blowing Rock Was Wild In Early Days," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 66. For the lack of amusements, see Gage-Vardell, "Memories." 37. Arthur's History of Watauga County is full of fascinating tales of county families still fighting over grudges dating from the Civil War, kidnappings, and other assorted mayhem in this era. While he hardly wished to perpetuate the stereotype of the feuding mountaineer—he constantly stressed the contributions of upstanding citizens - Arthur could not resist telling a good story. 38. Rumple, A History, p. 329. For the account of the Reformed church, later called Mount Bethel: A Board of Editors under The Classis of North Carolina, Historic Sketch of the Reformed Church in North Carolina, with an introduction by the Late Geo. Wm. Walker, D.D. (Philadelphia: Publication Board of the Reformed Church in the United States, 1908), pp. 321-323. 39. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Vol. 8, pp. 834, 860. Rumple was appointed to preach in Blowing Rock the first and second Sabbaths of July and dedicate the church. The Rev. William W. Pharr was scheduled to preach the third and fourth Sundays, but he later reported he did not attend, and his excuse was found satisfactory; presumably it had something to do with the fact that Rumple was staying on to preach the next two Sundays. It is impossible now to ascertain why Rumple did not dedicate the church on the first or second Sunday of July, 1886; perhaps the building was not ready. There is a slight possibility that the dedication occurred on the third, not the fourth Sunday, since the subsequent entry in presbytery minutes reads simply that "Rev. J. Rumple, D.D. reported that he preached at Blowing Rock on the 3rd and 4th Sabbaths of July [1886] and dedicated the church there according to appointment": ibid., Vol. 9, pp. 2-3. But I take the best source for the dedicatory date of the fourth Sunday in July to be the "1936 History," prepared by Vardell and Martin, both of whom were surely present and who may have had other records upon which to base their recollections. As will be described in chapter three, they arranged to celebrate the church's semicentennial on the anniversary date of the church's dedication, not its organization, and they chose to stress the fourth Sunday in July, 1886, as the appropriate one. Mrs. Rumple was in the habit of noting in the margin of her Bible, one of which is at RMPC, the texts her husband or some other preacher used for sermons. She made many such entries, usually with a date and sometimes with a place or church at which the sermon was given. The entry beside the text Rumple used at the dedicatory sermon reads, "Blowing Rock dedication of new church J.R. 1887"; this is almost certainly in error; she seems to have added the date later, as the ink appears to be darker. �The Founding and the Founders / 29 40. Ibid., Vol. 9, pp. 2-3, 18-23, 51-52. See also "Blowing Rock Hotel Completed In 1888," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 11. The old pump organ, today in the Nebel Sunday School Room at RMPC, is of uncertain origin. It is rather elaborate for the gift of a preacher's wife, and likely dates from a somewhat later time, given perhaps when the stone sanctuary was completed in the early 20th century. The "1936 History" refers to an Esty organ with two banks of keys and pedals "with electric attachment for pumping" given by Jessie Kenan Wise in 1931. It is not known what became of this instrument. 41. Contradictory sources exist for the date of the construction of the Mount Bethel sanctuary. Many old-timers in Blowing Rock have heard that the two churches were built by the same crew and during the same year, 1886. It is hard to imagine how such a well-remembered coincidence can be wrong; but the historian of the North Carolina Classis of the Reformed Church gave the first Sunday in November, 1894, as the structure's dedication date, and named the preacher who gave the sermon: the Rev. J. L. Murphy. The congregation would hardly have waited eight years to dedicate the building. Perhaps what local people remembered was that the Blowing Rock Hotel and the Presbyterian chapel were both under construction that summer of 1886: see above. 42. Classis of North Carolina, Historic Sketch, p. 323; Jacob Calvin Leonard, History of the Southern Synod of the Evangelical and Reformed Church (Lexington, NC: n.p., 1940). "Around Town," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 28. Another generation of Ingles would be active at Rumple church well into the twentieth century: see chapter three below. 43. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Vol. 9, pp. 51-52. 44. James Morton Wharey, born in Goochland County, Virginia in 1839, graduated from Hampden Sydney College in 1857, and from Union Theological Seminary in 1862. He was a chaplain with the Confederate army during the war. After serving several pastorates in Virginia he joined Concord Presbytery in 1876. As of the summer of 1886, he was preaching at the Rocky River church, "mother church" of the historic "seven churches of Mecklenburg." Late that year he was called to the Mooresville church, serving until 1905. His last years (1905-1909) were spent as stated supply to the Hickory and Taylorsville churches. Ministerial Directory, 1942 edition. Wharey had been the appointed alternate to the Rev. J. A. Ramsey, pastor at Thyatira and Back Creek churches, who informed presbytery that Wharey, not he, had been to Blowing Rock. Others who had been designated to fill the Blowing Rock pulpit that summer either did not attend (William M. Pharr was excused) or did not report: B.L. Beall and Pharr's alternate, W.A. Wood. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Vol. 9, pp. 2-3. For more on Beall, see below. 45. Watauga County Court House, Register of Deeds Office; copy in RMPC church records. 46. Watauga County Court House, Register of Deeds Office; Session Records, Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church (hereinafter cited as RMPC session records); Arthur, A History of Watauga County, p. 218. An undated, �30 / Chapter One pencilled notation in the earliest record book at RMPC says the Morrises moved to Hudson. Acquisition of land was a problem in the tightly-knit town. Dr. Vardell in 1936 recalled that fifty years previously only four or five families had owned all the suitable building sites in the village, and no member of these was connected with the Presbyterian church. "History of the Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church, Blowing Rock, N.C., Compiled by Rev. C. G. Vardell, D. D. and Dr. W. J. Martin, D. D., L.L. D., Read at the Semicentennial of the Church, July 26, 1936 . . . , " pp. 1-2. Hereinafter cited as "1936 History." 47. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 413; Minutes of Concord Presbytery, stated meeting of April 1913, pp. 177-179. Nancy Alexander, History of the First Presbyterian Church of Lenoir (Lenoir: The Printing House, 1976), no pagination. 48. Nancy Alexander, Here Will I Dwell: The Story of Caldwell County (n.p.: the author, 1956), pp. 114-116; tributes in memoriam to R.L. Beall, 1891, and E.W. Fawcette, 1901, First Presbyterian Church, Lenoir, NC, Minutes of Session & Register, 2 vols. 49. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Vol. 9, pp. 18-20, 22-23, 59. Although no record exists that the Lenoir Session ever voted on, or even discussed, these matters, the formalities seem to have mattered less than the facts. In the "1936 History," p. 3, Munroe is said to have fulfilled his duties at Blowing Rock until 1891. 50. Address by the Rev. Jethro Rumple, in Semi-Centenary Addresses, Davidson College, 1887, p. 69. I am indebted to Dr. Chalmers Davidson for bringing this reference to my attention. 51. Alexander, History of the First Presbyterian Church of Lenoir, no page numbering; McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 383-384 and passim.; Ministerial Directory, 1942 edition. 52. Ross, Census, 1900, pp. 92, 94, 101. More members of the Walser family would join in 1900: Mr. and Mrs. Will Walser. RMPC Session Records, Munroe-Tufts book, pp. 5-6. According to the memory of Hattie Brown, the Walsers had taken the initiative locally to establish the church: oral interview, July 1987. 53. There are discrepancies among the old record books at the church, the earliest of which has been recopied, and perhaps corrected, at least once. I have tried to reconcile the records, but some confusion exists, most glaringly between the report Munroe submitted to Presbytery and the oldest record book, presumably in his handwriting, and continued by Edgar Tufts, which is at the RMPC. The book shows only six, not eight, charter members: Mary and Samuel Walser are not listed. A later entry in Tufts's handwriting shows Mary Walser joined in May, 1899. A David Walser joined in June, 1891, with a later, pencilled entry showing that he some time subsequently "went back to the �The Founding and the Founders / 31 Baptist Church." One woman member is reported to have been "dismissed for immorality" at some point in Tufts's time. 54, A Home Missions report to Concord Presbytery in 1894 reported a $125 disbursement to the "Blowing Rock field," perhaps to pay summer supply pastors. A report on Sabbath Schools indicated four teachers and forty "scholars" on the roll at Blowing Rock where, since there was no session, the Sabbath school was reported only to be "under Presbyterian influences." Minutes of Concord Presbytery, stated meeting of spring 1894, pp. 13-14. �This page intentionally left blank �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 LOOKING BACK FROM about 1890, a man like Jethro Rumple must have been dissatisfied with the limited success of the Presbyterian home mission effort in North Carolina since the Civil War. A modest number of new churches had been added, but most of them, especially in the Western end of the state, were small and weak, and of course poor. Experiments like the "clusters" of churches Rumple had suggested in the 1870's had not worked out well. Presbytery had appointed roving evangelists to work full time in the field, but they had too many miles to cover, got little pay for their work, and must have been easily discouraged; turnover in the post was relatively frequent. During the late 1880's and early 1890's, in another unsuccessful effort at reorganization, some of the mountain counties were briefly reassigned to presbyteries centered in the more easterly parts of the state, presumably in the hope that mission activity would find a broader base of support from more established pastors and congregations there. This experiment, too, was soon abandoned. Synod evangelists, who began to work in the early 1880's, with the entire state to cover, naturally appeared infrequently in any one area.1 Still groping for an effectual method of work, Synod in 1891 named three evangelists, each of whom was assigned a more restricted region; one of these was the Rev. Robert Payne Pell, who was sent to Mitchell and Watauga Counties. As Avery County was not created until 1911, out of Mitchell and Watauga, PelFs field was still quite large. He traveled hundreds of miles over the next four years, mostly on horseback. The first Presbyterian church in Mitchell, at Elk Park, was organized through his efforts in 1891. But times were tight: a recession began in 1892 and deepened in 1893. And his duties were draining: Pell reported during 1894 that he had regularly served four churches (Blowing Rock would have been one), five "mission points" (which would have included 33 �34 / Chapter Two Banner Elk), 162 communicants, four Sabbath Schools with 275 pupils and seven teachers, and three prayer meetings; he had performed 45 baptisms, added 68 new members, and collected $787 "for church and school purposes." It is not clear where Pell had his base of operations in the mountains, or even whether he stayed all winter, during his four years of labor.2 Pell also promoted for a while, probably with Rumple's backing,3 a scheme to establish schools for girls at Blowing Rock and at the newly created lumbering and resort town of Linville. Nothing seems to have come from these plans, even though Pell said he had private local pledges for land and materials. Presbytery sent a team to Linville to follow up on the idea, but would promise no money, and the whole project soon died. At Blowing Rock, W. M. Morris had apparently been persuaded by his Presbyterian friends to donate a site for an educational enterprise to rival the Skyland Institute, founded in 1887 by Emily Prudden. The Institute, not a Presbyterian venture, was already flourishing by then; perhaps fortunately for the cause of education, Prudden was left without competition at this time. She later turned over her work to the American Missionary Union.4 But PelFs interest in education was a straw in the wind; for throughout the denomination, as well as across North Carolina, the concern for planting schools was becoming as real as the concern for planting churches. Public education in the Southern states, generally outclassed by denominational schools before the War, was, during Reconstruction, even more poorly supported, and the school terms short. Before the turn of the century there were no reported twelve-year schools anywhere in the state. What was true even in most towns went double for the country regions.5 Synod took up the issue of "The Church and Christian Education" at its 1891 meeting. Closer home in Concord Presbytery, a special committee which included Pell and Munroe, as well as ruling elder G. W. F. Harper of Lenoir, prepared a report which noted that, although the public schools "are mainly conducted by Christian teachers, a fair proportion of whom are Presbyterians," and in most "the Bible is read at the opening of school, with prayer for God's blessing," some schools neglected these routines. None used the Bible as a textbook, or required study of the Shorter Catechism.6 Preparing students for higher learning, and providing it, were traditional Presbyterian concerns, since the church needed an educated ministry. The report thus pointed out to praise several schools and academies in the bounds of presbytery which functioned as feeder schools to the church's colleges. But increasingly, "parochial schools and academies" were being seen as �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 35 important ancillaries to the larger work of the church, especially in the remote mountain regions. The interest which Synod and presbytery showed in Pell's efforts in Blowing Rock and Linville was one sign of this newer, wider concern, even though those plans came to naught. Another was the increased number of laymen and laywomen who by the end of the century were spending summers in isolated rural areas, supplementing the meager public educational effort and giving Christian instruction. Such teaching was carried out under denominational auspices, though often at the volunteers' own expense. It would take the explicit combination of these two responsibilities, teaching and preaching, soon to find ideal personification in one remarkable man, to give new vigor to the church's mountain work.7 In the fall of 1894 Munroe, by then fifty years old, tried to resign as chairman of presbytery's home missions committee. He was refused. His full-time obligations at the Lenoir church, coupled with the continued shortfalls of financial support for his committee's work, may have prompted his request. Pell, perhaps also weary of his work, accepted a call to a church in South Carolina in January, 1895. Concord Presbytery had previously discussed without result appointing an assistant for him; now his departure left the whole Mitchell and Watauga field uncovered. But that spring a young worker, supported temporarily by both Synod and Presbytery, came from Union Theological Seminary to labor at Banner Elk. It was the first arrival in the mountains of Edgar Tufts. He was a man after Rumple's and Munroe's own heart.8 "I reached Lenoir last Friday afternoon. Mr. Munroe, the Chairman of the Committee which I am to work under, met me at the depot. He was very kind to me, and as soon as I got the soot and smoke washed off, he took me around to meet 'wife material' as he expressed it." So Tufts wrote on Monday, May 13, 1895, to Mary Elizabeth Hall, the woman who three years later would become his wife. On Saturday, the Lenoir pastor and the seminary student rode to Blowing Rock. "On our way, we got caught in a rainstorm but did not get very wet. It took the whole day to get to our destination on account of the rough mountain road." In the evening, "to a small congregation," and again on the following day, Munroe had Tufts preach his first sermons in Blowing Rock. �36 / Chapter Two I was never more surprised than I was when I saw the place. I thought my work would be almost altogether among country people. But Blowing Rock has four or five large hotels and they say that sometimes there are as many as a thousand people there, from all parts of the country. There are not many visitors there now, however. They will begin to come next month. That same Sunday afternoon Tufts got his first taste of the freakish weather at the Rock. He and Munroe "went out to call on some people and before we got in again we were caught in a snow storm! Fortunately for me I had my coat on and we were near enough to a house to get shelter." The temperature dropped below freezing that night, Tufts reported, "although the fruit, of which there seems to be no end, was not killed."9 The next morning Munroe returned to Lenoir. Tufts went on to Banner Elk, "further up the mountains from Blowing Rock," by himself that Monday. He found the scenery "perfectly grand" and "enjoyed the ride very much" but thought it "very cold this morning until about twelve o'clock." A postscript on his letter to Bessie the next day added that "the mountains have considerable snow on them this morning, and the wind is whistling like mad. Am afraid I will miss the fruit wliich I was expecting." Munroe had taken Tufts the long way to his charge. As Tufts noted, the train came in to Elk Park from Johnson City, Tennessee, just eight miles from Banner Elk. But Tufts was grateful for the chance on the long ride to hear from the older preacher "all about the work." It was not so extensive as PelFs had been. Another seminary student was working in Mitchell County that summer. Still, Tufts was to be the only Presbyterian preacher in Watauga County; he was twenty-four and had only one year of seminary training. He was to preach at three locations: twice a month at Banner Elk, once at Blowing Rock, and once "at a place sixteen miles from here, called Cove Creek." Tufts told "Miss Bessie" he found Banner Elk much as he expected it, an "average country village," and he anticipated Cove Creek to be "a very rough place." But Blowing Rock, being a "regular fashionable summer resort," was a place "where I will have to do my best." He sent her "a little prospectus of Blowing Rock, which will give you a faint idea of that vicinity."10 Such was the beginning of the little preacher's mountain work. Tufts was born in Kirkwood, Georgia, five years after the close of the Civil War. He was one of six children. His mother's precarious health (she had never fully recovered from the privations of the war years) led the family to move to rural Maitland, in central Florida, when Edgar was still small; here his mother died of tuberculosis when he was �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 37 twelve. His daughter has traced his later concern for the sick and lonely to the boy's early experiences. Perhaps his first contact with, and openness to, outside tourists also came from these early years, as Maitland was by then attracting a small colony of winter visitors, including a New York woman who became a sort of foster mother to the young boy.11 Tufts may also have inherited something else from his weakened mother: he, too, later developed a tubercular condition which claimed his life at age fifty-two. The young Tufts entered Washington and Lee College, Virginia, "with $50.00 in his pocket" in 1889. From his birth his parents had wanted him to become a minister. "It was his mother's request as she gave her children her final good-bye on this earth."12 Accordingly, he and a childhood friend from Maitland, while roommates at Washington and Lee, were taken under the care of St. John's Presbytery, Florida, as candidates for the ministry. Tufts graduated from college in 1894 and entered Union Theological Seminary at Hampden-Sydney that fall. He returned a few days late to seminary at the opening of the 1895 term, in order to stay and finish the roof on the little church he started in Banner Elk that summer. He came back the next summer and was warmly received. Under his leadership in 1896 the building was completed and dedicated (Munroe came to preach the sermon), an organ installed, the school improved and its enrollment added to. As water to a dry land, Tufts's work was slaking a thirst for the gospel, and for learning, among a small but growing body of followers. He was even able to organize a literary society in the tiny, distant town.13 President of Union Seminary in that era was the Reverend Dr. Walter W. Moore, a native Charlottean, who among his duties had to help find various appointments for his studenvvvvvts. Summer work in home missions was considered good preparation for later ministerial responsibilities; it was also a source of low-paid manpower for the manifold projects the church took on but for which full time funding was hard to find. Such field work probably also weeded out the less-committed from the ministry. It turned out to be for Tufts the finding of his life's calling. Moore, Tufts reminded him later, was the first to give his name to Munroe's committee as one "who had the qualifications needed for the pioneering and constructive work then called for in our North Carolina mountains." Moore visited Banner Elk some years later to marvel at all Tufts had accomplished. He had, he said, "unquestionably made the right suggestion," and gave "thanks to God for His guiding hand in the matter."14 Relatively little is known of Tufts's early years of service in Blowing Rock. Not until 1898 were any new members enrolled at the Blowing �38 / Chapter Two Rock chapel, probably because until Concord Presbytery ordained him "as an evangelist" in 1897, he would not have been permitted to perform such tasks. In March, 1898, several additional members of the Weedon family were received into the church: Anna, Clarence, and Dea, while Alva and Eleaza Weedon were baptized. More members of the Walser household joined the next year: Mary, Robert, Clara, and Annie, while Mr. and Mrs. Will Walser were added in 1900. There were others: Maggie Leadford, Melvin Cox, Mrs. A. M. Critcher, Mrs. and Mrs. John Springs, Ola Pendley, W. G. Hall, W. W. Sherrill, M. E. Johnson. By 1905, when work began on the stone church building, Tufts had added twenty-eight to the fellowship. Several of these also received baptism. Since Presbyterian practice is to accept into full communion any baptized believer who professes faith in Christ, these individuals would have never been baptized in any other church. The little congregation was growing slowly, even though Tufts visited it only once a month. According to his daughter, Tufts lived all one winter in Blowing Rock early in his career, about 1903. Perhaps some of his parishioners in Blowing Rock hoped he would move his operations permanently. But by that date the school at Banner Elk was taking more and more of his time and energy. It ran from April to December, so that he was able to leave that work for a winter; but the support he had slowly and painfully gathered there may have seemed to him more precarious and more demanding of his attention.15 One of the active church families in those early years, whose descendants still attend Rumple church frequently in the summers, were the Weedons. W. H. Weedon's youngest daughter, Helen, now Mrs. Karl Deaton of Statesville, was perhaps the first infant Tufts baptized in the still-uncompleted stone sanctuary, in April, 1906. She recalled that her father had first come to Blowing Rock to find timber for his business in Newton. Already well along in years, Weedon not only found timber, but a growing little town to his liking. Soon he moved his much younger, second wife, Mary, and his family up the mountain. He built "Fairview," the well-named house which still stands, overlooking the John's River gorge and commanding one of the finest views of Grandfather Mountain anywhere in Blowing Rock. The prominent, ancient granite outcropping on his property became a surveyor's benchmark for much of the west side of town as it began to be platted in 1887.16 Tufts made the Weedon household a regular stopover on his monthly rides to Blowing Rock, often staying overnight as a guest in the main house. Little Helen Weedon always looked forward to his visits: not �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 39 only was he a welcome source of outside news and a pastoral solace, he was a warm, loving presence to the children. In winter, Tufts bundled himself for the ride from Banner Elk in a heavy woolen poncho or cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. He and his horse sometimes arrived almost unrecognizable, covered head to foot with ice and snow. In better weather and later years, Tufts sometimes brought over his wife, Bessie, whom he had married in 1898, or one or more of their children: Edgar H. and Margaret (a third, a daughter, died in her teens). The ride over the mountain, usually by way of Foscoe and Shulls Mills, sometimes through Valle Crucis, was regularly on the fourth Saturday of the month. Visiting isolated cabins along the way, he spent the night in Blowing Rock with the Weedons, or later the Holshousers, or other church families. Some youth activity or social probably took up that evening. His Sunday services would have been sparsely but faithfully attended in winter. In the summer season, they would have drawn larger crowds. Tufts no doubt also oversaw and taught classes in the Sunday school. According to a historical sketch prepared in 1937 by the Women of the Church, Mrs. W. L. Holshouser was for many years the superintendent of the Sunday school, which "has functioned almost continually" since 1897 "due to interest of members and visitors."17 Helen Weedon Deaton and others remember that the entire community went to Sunday school and worshipped at whatever church had a preacher on any Sunday: by the 1910's, the Baptists, Methodists, and Episcopalians were also being served monthly, at least in the summer, by some clergyman. Presbyterians followed this practice at least until the arrival of their first full-time pastor in 1931. One living resident member's memories stretch back to Edgar Tufts's time, and the original frame church in which his ministry began. Mrs. Charles F. (Hattie) Brown, now ninety-one, one of six children of Charles S. and Nancy Ann Young, remembers being taken as a child to a Christmas service, through a snowstorm, with woollen socks pulled up over their shoes to keep them dry. A large Christmas tree, lighted with candles, stood in the corner of the church. That service included a poem recited by her brother, Paul: for his performance his father rewarded him a silver dollar. Her family considered Edgar Tufts a special friend; he later recruited Hattie and her sister, Rose, for his fledgling school for girls at Lees-McRae.18 Some of Tufts's sermon notes have survived, tucked in a Bible still at Rumple Church. He wrote them on whatever odd scraps of paper came to hand: the backs of letters, envelopes, or circulars received at the school. One set of notes from the 1920's is written on a piece of W. L. �40 / Chapter Two Holshouser's letterhead stationery, which carried the printed notice "General Merchandise, Produce, Coffins, Caskets." That sermon dealt with "The Dignity of Man." Most of the outlines are brief, giving little clue to what filled out his main points. Some very early notes, pencilled on a mailing envelope from the Coca-Cola Company of Atlanta postmarked in 1897, have to do with Giving, They read: Universal custom in the ch[urch] Old Testament giving of the Holy Spirit All should give 1st From a business standp't 2nd For humanity's sake 3rd Because God commands 4th Because of the good it does Suggestions Give systematically Give all you can Give cheerfully Do not give for glory Give for the good of others The day: Sunday The scope: everyone The amount: as you are blessed The nature of: act of worship The object: The nature: of a free will A gift Tufts would have preached many times to young people, at LeesMcRae and elsewhere. One sermon for which the notes survive was probably composed with such an audience in mind, but it may also have reflected Tufts's awareness of his own work. Titled "Influence," it took its text from Romans 14:7: "For none of us liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto himself/' The notes read: "everybody has an Influence. Influence is increased a) by position b) by certain gifts. Two kinds: cf. Jno 1:43-46 [the story of Philip's leading Nathaniel to Jesus]. Direct and intentional, cf. Jno 21 [Jesus' appearance to his disciples after the resurrection]. Indirect and unintentional. Goes on after death!' Another sermon outline gave insight into Tufts's own faith. The text was Psalm 27, which begins, "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" Tufts asked rhetorically, "What has sustained us?" �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 41 and answered, "The goodness of the Lord. 1) providing for our wants 2) raising up friends 3) in giving us His Word for a lamp 4) In preparing a Home, cf. Jno. 14, Rev. 21:1-4." After the morning service, on those monthly Sunday afternoons, Tufts would perhaps have made pastoral calls in town before his scheduled evening services in Pineola, Linville, or some other outpost. He early developed a warm and respectful friendship with William R. Savage, who served the Episcopal Mission of St. Mary's from 1902 to 1917. Eleven years Tufts's senior, the bachelor Savage lived at Blowing Rock, and had charge of his church's work in Valle Crucis as well. About 1920 he went to Todd in Ashe County, cared for the mission there, and then was officially retired at Glendale Springs, living in the mission house until his death in 1934.19 When Tufts died in 1923, the Episcopal priest, now "a veteran in the army of the Master," as he said of himself, sent the widow a tribute to his Christian coworker. He remembered that they first met at "7 o'clock in the evening of Saturday the 27th day of September, 1902, . . . at Miss Pendley's supper table and sat side by side, and we have been going that close to each other ever since!" Savage had preached for Tufts several times in Banner Elk and had "aided him in administering the Lord's Supper" and at least one baptism: the infant daughter the Tuftses lost so young. The clergyman wrote, "the everlasting hills of the Lost Provinces so-called [were] stern witnesses of the faithfulness of the beloved pastor who travelled throughout the mountain country ministering to the sheep and lambs of the flock/ aiding the needy, lifting up the fallen, ministering to the sick and dying, comforting the afflicted, in fact doing everything that a real shepherd of the sheep would do for the flock under his care."20 As so many did, Savage emphasized in his tribute Tufts's work "than which there can be no greater—the noble work of providing for the mountain boys and girls a good education at small cost, one so thorough in all its branches that it fitted the students not only for higher institutions of learning but as well for the great duties of life." Tufts's most permanent legacy to the mountains was the Lees-McRae Institute, which he built up out of the work of volunteer summer workers who preceded and immediately followed him in Banner Elk: women such as Annie Lucie Morgan, who stayed on in the community to marry one of the local pupils, George Banner; the Rev. L. E. Bostian, who took over Tufts's duties for the winter of 1895-96; and others. He honored Elizabeth McRae of Maxton, North Carolina, another Presbyterian mountain teacher who had taught in nearby Cranberry, but never in Banner Elk, when he used her name for his school in 1900.21 But it was another of Tufts's enterprises in Banner Elk which his �42 / Chapter Two congregation at Blowing Rock took most to heart: the children's home he started in 1914. Tufts, as Rumple before him, had early on been concerned for little children whose families had been broken up by the death of one or both parents and whose remaining relatives had neither room nor means to care for them. By early 1914, his school well launched, Tufts resolved to do something for their care. Tufts often sought outside support, always with permission of presbytery, for his work, first for the school, later for a hospital, and, toward the end of his life, for a full-fledged college (his pleas on behalf of that last cause were not accepted). So after first designating a site on the school property and rounding up some furnishings from his Banner Elk congregation, he sent to the churches in presbytery a folder announcing his purpose to open a "mountain orphanage" that spring. A great deal, he said, was needed, including "two or three good cows and a lot of poultry Money can also be used." Help came from the First Presbyterian Church of Concord, where Annie Ludlow Cannon and the Grier Bible Class raised $1000 toward the first buildings. That church and many others later sent additional sums.22 But most importantly for the Blowing Rock church, Tufts had succeeded in interesting a remarkable and generous woman, and a member of his summer congregation, in his work. Annie Cannon had already come to know Tufts in Blowing Rock. She not only continued to support the Grandfather Home, but would later become the largest single benefactor of Rumple Church.23 Special collections for the work of the Home from the Blowing Rock congregation, which began soon after the session was organized and have continued to the present, have amounted to many times the original cost of the entire enterprise. ***** Not long before Tufts arrived in the county, a second generation, scions of the church's original founders, had grown to manhood, married, and taken their places in the burgeoning Blowing Rock summer community. Two of these were soon to make major contributions to the church of their fathers, on the state and national levels and at Blowing Rock. William Joseph Martin, Jr. (1868-1943) and Charles Graves Vardell (1860-1956) became brothers-in-law when Martin married Vardell's sister Jennie in 1897. Vardell, it may be recalled, married Rumpie's daughter Linda in 1891. Despite the difference in their ages, the men were also classmates, in the class of 1888, at Davidson College. �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 43 Vardell had worked for the United States Department of Agriculture and had attended Oberlin College for two years before entering Davidson in 1885. The younger Martin had spent summers in Blowing Rock with his family from the time of his childhood; Vardell first came to the resort community while a student at Davidson, to wait tables at a resort hotel. However well they may have known each other at school, the church at the Rock must have brought them closer together. The Presbyterian summer community revolved around Rumple and the "Old Colonel," Martin's father. Vardell, whose own father, William Gildersleeve Vardell, was a Presbyterian minister in Charleston, South Carolina, would have received a ready welcome in the circle. After college, both men went on to professional study. Martin taught one year at Presbyterian College in South Carolina, then attended Johns Hopkins University for one year. From there he went to the University of Virginia, his father's alma mater, where he was elected to Phi Beta Kappa and received both the M.D. degree and the Ph.D. in chemistry. He taught at the University until 1896. During the summer of 1895 Dr. Martin "of the University of Va." was "resident physician" at the Fair View House in Blowing Rock, "Mrs. M. J. Brady, Proprietress." Vardell, meanwhile, attended Princeton Theological Seminary and earned the Bachelor of Divinity degree in 1891. He was pastor at the Presbyterian Church in New Bern from 1891 to 1896. Then in 1896 both men entered the field of Presbyterian higher education in North Carolina. When his father died, Martin was invited to take the Colonel's chair as Maxwell B. Chambers Professor of chemistry at Davidson. Here he taught until 1912, when he was elected president of the college. He left in 1929 to head what was then known as the General Assembly's Training School, now the Presbyterian School of Christian Education, in Richmond, until he retired in 1933. Also in 1896, Vardell was called by Fayetteville Presbytery to be president of the newly-formed Red Springs Seminary for Women, soon to be renamed Flora MacDonald College, in Red Springs. He ran the school for almost thirty-five years, retiring in 1930.24 In 1898 and 1899, Vardell and his wife purchased several lots on Chestnut Hill, near the Martins' house in Blowing Rock. Vardell designed and built a summer house for his own family, and a cottage for Dr. Rumple, on the site. The Colonel's property had passed to his heirs in 1896. "Bill Joe," as his family and friends knew him, bought out his sisters' shares of the family's mountain holdings in 1909. Thus by early in the century, Chestnut Hill had turned into a virtual Presbyterian academic enclave during the summers. Vardell's children and grandchildren recall large and lively summer gatherings of family and �44 / Chapter Two friends around the five-leaved dining table or in front of the great rock fireplace in the wood panelled living room at the Vardell house. The college president brothers-in-law ran their schools from the mountains during the summers. Vardell, whose campus was farther from Blowing Rock, frequently dispatched and received couriers from Red Springs, but made a point to spend the entire vacation with his family.25 Both Martin and Vardell were enthusiastic amateur architects. Vardell had not only selected the lumber and helped to build his mountain house; he designed the main building at Flora MacDonald and laid out the school gardens as well. Martin had seen to the building in Davidson of a house for his mother and sisters after the death of his father.26 Now another project began to occupy them during the summer of 1905: a new and larger church for Blowing Rock's Presbyterians. The 1886 chapel had been hit by lightning sometime during the 1890's, a frequent hazard in the mountaintop community, but one not often mentioned by the town's boosters. The building was propped up to compensate for the lightning strike, but must not have been very attractive afterwards; "on a windy Sunday it groaned and creaked and was uncomfortable." The growing summer crowd, besides, had begun to spill out of its doors. The church they planned was of mountain stone, in a simple, gothic style, with a seating capacity of about 220. One Sunday just before church, they discussed with Tufts the "rough pencil sketch" Martin had prepared. The whole idea seems to have been theirs, not the preacher's, but, builder and promoter that he was, Tufts undoubtedly was quickly and easily persuaded to go along.27 Martin and Vardell had the blessing of Dr. Rumple in the new enterprise. Now well over seventy, Rumple had acquired an assistant pastor at his church in Salisbury and was no longer so active in the church's work. His wife, who "was shared with me for forty-five years," as he said, had "entered into a much needed rest" three years before.28 Dr. Rumple lived to see the project well launched. At his death in early 1906 the dedicatory stone, which later gave the church its name, memorialized his many contributions to the church's founding. Another involved in starting the building project that summer of 1905 was Edwin M. Williamson, also a summer resident and another Vardell brother-in-law. A textile merchant from Fayetteville, Williamson had married Vardell's sister, Catherine, in 1902; long active in the First Church of Fayetteville, he was a ruling elder and clerk of the session there. He, too, had his summer cottage on Chestnut Hill.29 But also by that summer, another important Presbyterian pastor had become a seasonal regular at the Rock: the Rev. James Isaac �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 45 Vance, D.D. (1862-1939). Vance's persuasive preaching helped draw the funds needed for the building from pockets of visiting worshippers over the next several summers. And for a generation thereafter, his frequent appearances in Rumple's pulpit would be a prominent feature of the resort's season. His oratory would also be invoked on Grandfather Home Sunday for nearly twenty years. "Dr. Vance was a man among a thousand, a preacher among ten thousand. In the mature years of his life he was accounted one of the twenty-five best preachers in the United States."30 What initially attracted Vance to Blowing Rock as a summer haven is not known. He bought land, from Joe B. Clark, Blowing Rock's first mayor, and his wife "Lou," adjoining the Moses Cone property on the northwest side of town, in 1901. By the next year he had completed the summer house to which he and his family returned for the rest of their lives. At this time Vance was preaching at the North Reformed Church in Newark, New Jersey, where he served from 1900 to 1910. But his roots were in the Appalachian mountains. Born in Arcadia, Tennessee, not far from Bristol and Blountville, Vance could trace his family ancestry to the Scotch-Irish pioneers who founded the Watauga Settlement in the days just after the American Revolution.31 Graduating in 1883 from King College in Bristol, Tennessee, Vance entered Union Seminary that fall. He received a master's degree from the college at the same time he finished seminary. His first church was in Wytheville, Virginia, but he did not stay long: his skill in the pulpit must have attracted the attention of larger city churches. He preached successively in Alexandria and Norfolk, Virginia, and Nashville, Tennessee, before his call to the Newark church in 1900. By that date he had already written four of the more than twenty books he published during his life. In 1910 he returned to Nashville and the pulpit he had previously filled at First Church (now called Downtown Church), Nashville, where he spent the remainder of his years.32 These men —Martin, Vardell, Williamson, Rumple, and Vance — formed the building committee to start work, "Without a dollar, but in faith."33 "A Sabbath was appointed on which Dr. Vance was to preach and present the proposed action to the congregation." Over the next few days, funds were solicited, not only from Presbyterians, but from "many summer visitors and residents of Blowing Rock of other denominations." Treasurer for the project at first was Gaither W. Hall, who had moved to Blowing Rock from Banner Elk and transferred his membership from Tufts's congregation there in December 1902. When Hall moved to North Wilkesboro in 1907, Martin took over that part of the job as well. �46 / Chapter Two In the early fall of 1905, Martin submitted the plans for the church to Charlotte architect C. C. Hook, "to judge whether the roof structure was so designed as to be safe in high winds and to pass on the general lines of the building." Hook, who had begun his career as a school builder in Charlotte, was the first professional architect that city had ever had.34 He found the plans in order, but added "one member to the roof timbers" and made "slight changes in the window and door arches." Hook presumably also prepared the working drawings for the builders* use. A curious feature of the building's design is that the roof timbers were so spaced as to be aligned over the peaks of the gothic windows, rather than over the more substantial, unbroken wall areas. The load of the roof was thus supported by the pillars at the corners of the building, and by outside buttresses, not by the walls, which nevertheless were substantial: three feet thick at the base and eighteen inches thick at the top. The inward-tapering slope of the building's exterior, though, was pleasing. The church exterior displayed a "firm foundation" (the walls began two feet below present ground level), even as it subtly embraced the worshippers within. The enormous roof expanse was steeply pitched, the better to shed the weight of heavy winter snow. Its shape drew joking references to "St. Rufus" from local Episcopalians or to "the ice house" from other town residents. A widely-distributed photograph of the church in winter, taken about 1960 by Thomas W. Reese, showed the wisdom, even the romance, of Martin's design. Drifted snow, piled nearly to the roof's edge, seemed almost to replace the walls as support for the roof's prominent peak. At the rear of the building is a semi-detached bell tower of a slightly lower height than the main roof. Exactly when it was built is unclear. It may well have been part of the structure Martin designed. But a Sunday school room was added at the back of the church in 1921 and removed in 1936; the tower may also have been added at that time. Two April 1921 entries by treasurer Will Holshouser in the church records noted, "Paid Freight on Bell, $14.32," and "Paid for Bell, $68.20." Presumably the bell from the first building had been sold, or damaged in the lightning strike during the 1890's, and not replaced until 1921.35 No session had yet been formed at the church to keep formal minutes when the building started, so no record of the reactions of the local communicants has been preserved. But, as with the construction of the medieval European cathedrals, the project soon came to involve numerous workmen from all over the community, who left their own �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 I 47 peculiar cultural marks on it. The most locally-famous story concerns the rock used for the church interior. Dr. Martin recalled that he gave orders that the rock for the arch and the pulpit furniture be carefully selected. When placed on the ground, while approving of the rock, he noticed some stains on some of it. He inquired of the man who hauled it as to the source of the rock and was told that if the truth were told it would not be used. On being pressed he confessed he had taken it from the chimney of an abandoned moonshine still house! This rock is in the arch and in the pulpit, glorifying the God who created these oldest of mountains of which they are a part. Current member and longtime elder at Rumple Church, Perry Lentz, remembers some of the local details: much of the rock for the church was supplied by his grandfather L. M. Frye from sites above what is now Flat Top Road; he hauled it for the church at $1.75 for two wagonloads, twenty-five cents off the going rate, because, as his grandfather explained, he was a member of a Masonic Lodge and the project deserved to get a break in the price. Some of the stone, specifically that used on the north side of the building, came from Frye's own land. As for the still, Lentz in his childhood was shown its exact site: under a poplar tree on a branch, on a piece of the family's property which has long since been acquired for the Blue Ridge Parkway right of way. The story that has come down in his family, however, has it the still was not illegal: his great-grandfather Frye produced white "blockade liquor" with a license.36 Building supervisor for the project was local resident Joe White, Sr., later to become one of the first members of the church session. Hall and Tufts in November 1905 let the contract for the stone walls to George Duncan for $750, "with any additional rock work to be done at $3.50 per cubic yard."37 The attractive but extensive building wound up costing some $2500, according to Martin. This "reasonable cost was due in part to the fact that [White] and most of the workers charged less than their customary wages for their labor on the building." The work lasted seven years. As Martin recalled the timetable, the old building came down at the end of the summer, 1905, and was sold for $100. Work on the new one started that fall. By spring 1906 the walls had been built and the roof put on. Rough flooring was laid early in the summer of 1906, the pulpit platform framed, and rough boards laid down, so that services could be held for the season. "In order to get the building in shape for use that summer, everyone drove hard to finish the roof and lay the rough floor. �48 / Chapter Two Even Drs. Vardell and Martin turned carpenters and framed the pulpit platform and later helped to lay the rock in the pulpit furniture. Indeed during the summer construction of the building, both Dr. Vardell and Dr. Martin spent most of their time watching, directing and assisting in the construction." By 1908, enough money had been obtained to finish the interior maple flooring. The rock arch over the pulpit went up, and "the grounds were graded and sown in rye" the same year. Money for the construction was raised, after the first year, by contributions from Sunday to Sunday. According to Dr. Martin, "the congregations were very patient and co-operative with the repeated calls, even when on one occasion Dr. Vance announced, 'Dr. Martin will now make the financial report and take up the congregation^ " Work on the new building was virtually complete by 1912, when the ceiling and trusses were cased in oiled chestnut wood. During these years the building could not be used in winter. Father Savage allowed Tufts's little year-round flock use of the Episcopal church, then farther up Main Street than it is now, in the off-seasons. Episcopalian layman W. W. Stringfellow, builder of the Chetola estate, also aided the Presbyterians by designing the pews still used in the sanctuary. Two memorials to Rumple were included in the new building. On one pillar of the porch, facing the street, was erected a polished stone marker, carved with the words "Rumple Memorial." It was presented to the Blowing Rock congregation after the pastor's death by his Sunday school classes at the Salisbury Church. The stone, which was moved in 1928 to the rebuilt portico, may well have been intended to mark the name of the church; but the change was not made official until 1940.38 In addition, an unusually attractive and ornamented stained glass window, of Tiffany style, was installed in the choir loft sometime during construction, "In loving memory of Rev. Jethro Rumple, D.D." No record indicates who provided it, or which firm supplied it; no doubt members of his family moved to have it done. Its representation of the open Bible, against a backdrop suggesting the everlasting hills, has symbolized for three generations the contribution the church's founder made to the mountain community he loved, and the faith by which he lived. A brilliantly jeweled crown at the apex of the window unmistakably recalled the Scriptural text, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life" (Rev. 2:10). And the golden pathway shown leading from the Word to the crown depicted the heavenly reward of the believer, the eternal city where the "street was pure gold, as it were transparent glass" (Rev. 21:21). The "Rumple Window" is one of the most beautiful to be seen anywhere in the region. �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 49 As the rock church went up, new members came in.39 Most important for the future work of the church, three men and their families: W. L, "Will" Holshouser in July 1911, Edward G. Underdown and Joseph N. White in November 1912, joined the fellowship. On March 23,1913, these men were elected and installed as ruling elders, thus constituting the first church session. Holshouser was also elected clerk and treasurer of the session, and the church's first lay delegate to Concord Presbytery, which met that fall in Lenoir. According to the Presbyterian system of government then prevailing, an elder's term of service was not limited. Each of these men thus held office at his own and the church's pleasure indefinitely. Holshouser served as elder until his death in March 1942, at age seventy-three. Underdown ended his service at about the same time. White's term was the longest: he was still an elder when he died in February 1952. The extended families of all these men, especially Holshouser's, have provided many faithful members to Rumple Church ever since. One son, Howard P. Holshouser, Sr., is elder emeritus. Another of Will's sons, J. E. "Peck" Holshouser, after three years' service on the session at Rumple, left to become ruling elder at the newly-organized Presbyterian Church in Boone in 1939. His son, James E., Jr., baptized at Rumple in 1935, served as governor of the state from 1961 to 1969. Numerous others, related by marriage, have made the extended Holshouser clan one of the most active throughout the church's history.40 One of the first decisions of the new session was to pledge $150 per year for the pastor's salary, beginning in April 1914. Holshouser's treasurer records show the sum was paid, in monthly installments of $12.50, beginning on schedule and continuing until 1919, when the sum was raised to $20 a month, or $240 annually. By that time, the "high cost of living" had become a national concern and the pay increase must have been justified in those terms. The church had paid a little over $2 for "2 loads wood" to fuel the stove in the stone church in 1915; by 1919 it cost $3.50. Two interesting facts emerge from the early financial records. First, collections at each Sunday service in summer were substantially higher than they were during the winter. In 1917, for example,/ the collections from January through May averaged less than $5 per monthly meeting, while for July, August, and early September, each service, held almost weekly, raised about $22; by year's end, the last months' offerings each brought in about $2. Given the seasonal nature �50 / Chapter Two of the church's activity, and the comparatively greater affluence of the summer visitors, the pattern is not surprising. Without the summer contributors, the local congregation would have been hard pressed to pay the pastor's salary. But the surprise in the records is that for more than two years, beginning in 1913 and going on into 1916, Tufts had his Blowing Rock winter congregation devote their monthly contributions almost exclusively to support the Grandfather Home. The sums were not large: $1 to $4 per service. Holshouser faithfully gave the preacher, each Monday after his visit, a check for the "Orphants Home" which came to the full amount collected in the previous day's offering plate. Such was the need, and such the concern for Tufts's work, that the little year-round congregation and their pastor must have cooperated in this arrangement. In effect, then, the church depended entirely upon summer receipts to pay the preacher. During those same years, one collection each summer month was also designated for the Home, although none was exceptionally large. It was not until 1918 that Dr. Vardell, visiting Tufts in Banner Elk and seeing for himself the great need, returned to the summer congregation to make a plea for a special offering on the Home's behalf. Vardell told his listeners that two weeks hence he would take up the special offering and he expected $1000 from them that Sunday; scoffers were silenced when "$850 was counted on the table and the balance of $150 came later."41 From that summer to the present, Rumple Church has continued giving to Grandfather Home; not only have far larger sums been raised from these annual appeals, but the budget of the church for its regular program has also been more conventionally covered. Many more years would go by before the church became fully self-supporting; but its sense of sacrifice for the needs of others had been early aroused. By the time of World War I, mission work had captured the imagination of the entire denomination-indeed, of most of Protestant Christianity. Domestic missions of the Presbyterian Church, U. S., were benefitting both from a restructuring of support and organization, and from the renewed zeal with which pastoral and lay leaders had turned to the cause of evangelizing the world with the gospel. �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 751 In 1893 the General Assembly adopted a new plan for home missions which, while continuing to encourage presbyterial and synodical efforts, also provided for two Churchwide offerings annually to support the Assembly's own such work. Weaker, poorer, and more remote churches and schools now got more direct funding. Areas in Appalachia were almost immediate beneficiaries. In 1896 Asheville Presbytery was created, covering eleven North Carolina counties west of the Blue Ridge hitherto part of Mecklenburg Presbytery. "By 1903 there were five mission schools within its bounds. In this same year, the General Assembly's [executive] committee [on home missions] began its work in the mountains. Through the gift of a Christian philanthropist, Nacoochee Institute in north Georgia was opened; the capacity of Lees-McRae Institute in Concord Presbytery was doubled; financial assistance was given to the five schools in Asheville Presbytery." Laymen's organizations such as the Society of Soul Winners, founded in 1897 by the well known Kentucky Presbyterian doctor turned preacher E. O. Guerrant, crossed denominational lines to gain support for work among the mountain people.42 Work of a more secular nature, associated with the Peabody Fund, the Grange, the Conference for Education in the South, and other such philanthropic agencies, helped to turn the nation's eyes to the southeastern highlands. Even the emergence of good roads movements in North Carolina and elsewhere was having a similar beneficial effect.43 A prominent lay leader in such movements locally, and one of the most noteworthy, was Dr. W. J. Martin's sister, Mary Turpin Martin Sloop. She also was an M.D., a 1906 graduate of the Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania. At thirteen she had confided to Dr. Rumple that she wanted to be a medical missionary, thinking of the foreign field. The practical pastor, who knew her parents well, wondered what her mother's reaction would be—not to her vocation of missionary but to her intent to study medicine. " 'I believe it'd kill her,' " she told him. But she persisted in her ambition. To please her parents she attended Statesville Female College (she hated the school's name) but also took courses at Davidson, where she met her future husband, Eustace Sloop. Then for several years after the Colonel's death, she had to help care for her aging mother. By the time she was twenty-nine, in 1902, with one year of study behind her at the North Carolina Medical College in Davidson, where she was denied entrance into an anatomy class, she learned that the denomination thought her already too old, and physically frail, to handle the rigors of the foreign mission field. Almost fifty years after, both rejections still rankled. She determined to finish her medical studies, and as her relationship with Sloop gradu- �52 / Chapter Two ally deepened, made with him the "momentous decision" to "settle down in the North Carolina mountains" after they were married. "If we could not be foreign missionaries, we could serve at home."44 Sloop, or "Doctor," as Mary Martin called him, had meanwhile completed his degree at the North Carolina Medical College and had taken postgraduate study at Jefferson College, Pennsylvania. Returning to North Carolina, he had begun his practice at the tiny community of Plumtree, in what was then Mitchell County. Here the Rev. Joseph P. Hall, Tufts's brother-in-law, had already begun a school not unlike Tufts's own, but for boys; the schools would later merge at Banner Elk after a devastating fire destroyed the Plumtree dormitory in January 1927. The Sloops believed the place the ideal mission field for them. But first came the wedding. On July 2, 1908, they were married at Blowing Rock, in the Presbyterian church her father had helped to found and her brother had helped to build. They may well have been the first couple to take the marriage vows in the almost-completed stone sanctuary. Dr. A. T. Graham of the Davidson College Presbyterian Church, the Martins' pastor and friend, came up to officiate. The ceremony was simple: the couple was, after all, by the standards of the day, already middle-aged. The bride wore a plain white linen suit, the groom a black one which she later cut down for their son to wear. The "children of Blowing Rock" had decorated the stone church with "mountain flowers and evergreens, simply but most effectively, and they had been so interested in doing it."45 The story of the Sloops1 work at Plumtree, and at Crossnore, where they moved a few years later, there to practice medicine and found the Crossnore School, has been well told in the 1953 book, Miracle in the Hills, M. M. Sloop was the nation's Mother of the Year in 1951. Dr. W. J. Martin actively supported the mountain work of his sister and brother-in-law in numerous ways, not the least of which was financial. One of the Sloops' first rescue operations was to save a twelve year-old girl from a premature marriage match to "a drunkard and a moonshiner" by sending her off to Lees-McRae with money and clothing supplied from Davidson friends and relations.46 More personally, the professor helped them in 1909 when he bought out his sisters' shares of the family property in Blowing Rock. The Sloops seem to have used this money to acquire a stake in the work Hall was doing at Plumtree, but for some reason, perhaps because of differences between Hall and the Sloops, the arrangement did not work out. In 1912 presbytery ordered Hall "to refund out of the funds of the Plumtree school, to Dr. E. H. Sloop, the money invested by him in the Plumtree property at the earliest possible date; and in view of �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 I 53 Dr. Sloop's urgent need of these funds, we suggest that a negotiable note be given him in case the cash is not soon available/' Martin at that time lent the Sloops an additional sum to get started at Crossnore.47 There the Sloops were careful to keep their work nonsectarian, no doubt to enhance its acceptance by the local people they were trying to help. Mary Martin Sloop wrote about 1928, "The family is Presbyterian and democratic, and when they came to Crossnore they found that there were but few Presbyterians, and that democrats were still more infrequent." Sloop would later find many sources of private support for her work, including the Daughters of the American Revolution, in which organization she was entitled to membership through her mother's family.48 In addition to the direct support he provided his sister's work, Martin promoted many of the church's larger missionary causes during his active years. He was elected Moderator of the General Assembly in 1914, a highly unusual honor for a layman in that era.49 In that capacity, and from his own interest, he participated in the February 1915 meetings of the Laymen's Missionary Movement to speak on "Our Increased Responsibility" in "carrying out the great commission of our common Lord and Master." Held in two locations, Charlotte, North Carolina and Dallas, Texas, these meetings drew a total of 4,370 people. In attendance at the Charlotte meetings were, among many others, the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. C. G. Vardell of Red Springs, and elder Will Holshouser from Blowing Rock. The "Great War" then raging in Europe, although not yet involving the United States, was heavy on Martin's mind, as it was for many of the other speakers at that conference. He pointed out that the war had started not "in heathendom but in the center of so-called Christian Europe." It had come about, not as a failure of Christianity, but as "the failure of people who, while professing Christianity, have failed to live as Christ taught." Martin said, "Only when we literally obey Christ's commands will we have peace. . . . Throughout Christendom Christ's followers have been busy, but not about their Father's business. In the temple of life we have been money changers, and Christ is now scourging us with war and tumult, with unrest and unhappiness, and He will scourge us again and again until He brings us to a faithful obedience to His command." He considered the opportunities for American mission efforts overseas greatly enhanced because of the pullback of Europeansponsored missionaries. Americans would have to emulate the sacrificial spirit of Christ's own service to others. "What we need is more men, more money, more faith, more prayers, more unselfishness, more sacrifice, more Christ-likeness," he concluded.50 �54 / Chapter Two When within another two years the United States did enter the World War, a different kind of sacrifice was demanded of Americans. Yet the church also found other opportunities for ministry. One of Blowing Rock's regular summer pastors, Dr. James I. Vance, had done what he could, following the lead of Presbyterian President Woodrow Wilson, to remain neutral and work for peace before American entry into the conflict; thereafter he was active in numerous war-related efforts in Nashville and throughout the Church. Vance was equally as interested in missions as his friend Martin; he served thirty-two years on the Executive Committee of Foreign Missions of the denomination, 1895-1901 and 1911-1937. During the war he visited the front several times, and spent time with American soldiers in the immediate postArmistice period. On his return he published a book, Silver on the Iron Cross, a collection of his observations in Europe and his sermons to the troops. In 1918, Vance was also elected Moderator of the General Assembly. By a curious coincidence, then, Martin held that post at the outbreak, Vance at the end, of World War I. During the war years, as yet another part of its mission thrust, the Presbyterian Church, U. S., restructured its synod and presbytery boundaries, the better to highlight and support its work in the Appalachian mountains. A primary proponent of the reorganization was the Rev. R. F. Campbell, D.D., of Asheville. His work had drawn General Assembly support since 1903. To him, the creation of Asheville Presbytery in 1896, which had then been evangelized with synod support, was a model for the larger church to follow: by setting up the new synod as a mission field, work there could draw support from the entire General Assembly. At the 1913 meeting of North Carolina Synod at Greensboro, he urged all synods concerned with mountain home mission work to overture the General Assembly in the interest of erecting a "Synod of Appalachia." Only the Synod of Tennessee at first responded favorably to the idea; "strongest opposition was encountered in the Synods of North Carolina and Kentucky," both of which by now had long years of experience at synodical missions. Virginia, too, at first objected; but Dr. Campbell, and the Rev. C. C. Carson of Bristol, carried the case around the region and in 1915 the synods gave their approval. In May the General Assembly approved the new boundaries, which encompassed 67 counties in five states.51 Edgar Tufts was an early and enthusiastic supporter of the new arrangements. As much as anyone in the church, he knew the isolation of the region and the difficulty of raising funds for his work. So, although other, more settled churches in Concord Presbytery at first opposed the plan, Tufts pressed for including the mountain counties of �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 55 Concord within the new Synod's boundaries. As ordered in 1915, Avery, Mitchell, Watauga, and Yancey Counties were taken from the Presbytery of Concord and became part of the historic, twelve-county Presbytery of Holston, formerly in the Synod of Tennessee. The arrangement continued until 1969, when the churches in Watauga County rejoined Concord Presbytery.52 Entry into Holston Presbytery and the Synod of Appalachia turned out to be important for Rumple church. For although the move undoubtedly did something to loosen its traditional ties to the rest of the state's Presbyterians, it was drawn more closely into the kind of mission work for which the synod had been created: extending education and planting other new churches. It also brought increased exposure and funding for its pastor's enterprises in nearby Banner Elk: Tufts not only got continued support from Concord, but from Holston Presbytery and from the General Assembly as well. It later helped the small congregation pay the salaries of ministers who succeeded Tufts, as the church was as yet unable to cover its own costs and depended on presbytery supplements. Finally, through its place as a mission work of Holston Presbytery, the church first formed its relationship with a man who not long after came to be superintendent of presbytery's home missions and would one day become Rumple's own beloved pastor, Walter King Keys. ***** Never physically strong, the dedicated Edgar Tufts had risked his health in his work ever since he had arrived at his mountain post in a snowstorm in 1895. On his way home to Banner Elk after preaching his December sermon at Blowing Rock in 1922, yet another exposure to the bitter wind and cold brought on a bout of pneumonia. His weakened lungs gave out on January 6, 1923.53 Tributes to Tufts and to his work appeared widely in the religious and secular press at his death. The Lenoir News-Topic of February 8, 1923 reprinted several of them, including two which appeared in the Presbyterian Standard, written by James I. Vance and Mary Martin Sloop.54 Vance's was the more elegantly phrased: "The people of the mountains are in mourning. They have lost their best friend. Edgar Tufts has gone home." Vance had received the news by telegram at his church office in Nashville, "and as the yellow paper fell from my hands to the floor, my heart cried, �56 / Chapter Two "Oh, God, how can they get on up there in the mountains without him?"... For I know how they love him, how absolutely they trust him. For 25 years he has been their sky-pilot, pointing and preaching and leading the way to the country lying out there beyond their own fair, far skyline, and he has always led them straight Edgar Tufts, slight of figure, weighing little more than a hundred pounds, never of robust health, twice laid aside from his work by tuberculosis, but sent back to his work apparently cured, so diffident and modest and retiring that he would escape notice when men of bigger bodies but smaller souls were on the stage, . . . he was the biggest little man it has ever been my privilege to know. ... The great peaks could not forget Edgar Tufts.... The winds as they sing through the great timbers will be chanting their "Te Deum" for a man who "was an hiding place from the winds and a covert from the tempest, as rivers of water in a dry place, and as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Mary Martin Sloop's tribute was more rooted in the reality of the place and time in which Tufts worked. She and Tufts had endured similar severe weather and hardships but had persevered out of similar motives. She wrote a description of the service held for Tufts at the church he served in Banner Elk: Bitter weather and terrible roads deterred the great crowds that came some 50 miles to that beautiful rock church—"Mr. Tufts's Church" —to show what his life had meant to them. Twas a typical afternoon. As they bore the casket from the home to the church, the sleet and mud reminded us of the many years of faithful service in all sorts of weather, when this servant of God had failed not once to meet his speaking appointments, often in the furtherest cove of the bleakest mountainside. During the funeral service, the flood of sunlight that poured through the beautiful windows of the church, typified God's rich blessing of Mr. Tufts's tireless efforts. As the sun faded, the flood of the electric lights bore witness of his vision of what might be accomplished in the mountains-of the mountains-and for the mountains. And at the grave the complete lining of green galax and silver pine, which loving hands had so skilfully prepared, proved how his love of the beautiful had met a response in their hearts. We left the grave praising God for the endless influence of such a life-a life whose secret was unselfish faith; a death whose keynote was victory. And we thanked God for the son and daughters who can go on with his work. Much of the little preacher's work would indeed be carried on into the next generation by his son, Edgar Hall Tufts, who had just graduated from Davidson, and who took over the school, the orphanage, and the �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 57 hospital work. The younger Tufts soon combined the Banner Elk enterprises his father had begun into the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association, which still functions. The pastoral responsibilities Tufts had laid down, however, required an ordained minister; Blowing Rock and all Tufts's churches awaited a new leader for the flock. �58 / Chapter Two Notes for Chapter Two 1. In 1889 a Synod evangelist was appointed, the Rev. William D. Morton, to try to "meet the 'destitutions' that existed in all of the presbyteries." Morton served until 1893; his work seems to have had little to do with mountain communities. His successor, the Rev. John M. Rose, worked out of Morganton for about eighteen months in more remote areas. Although there is no record of it, he may well have preached in Watauga. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 400, 402, 425. 2. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 406. The Elk Park church did not survive long; Margaret Tufts Neal does not remember her father ever preaching there. A much more substantial wave of church planting in Mitchell and Avery counties came after the turn of the century, as part of the work of the Rev. James P. Hall, of whom more is said below. 3. Synod of North Carolina, Records of 78th annual session, Durham, 1891, p. 535. Rumple was on both the synod and the presbytery committees concerned with the topic of "The Church and Christian Education" in 1891, although he resigned from the synod committee that same year. Both these groups, according to McGeachy, adopted resolutions of support for Pell's educational efforts in the mountains (see below). 4. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 414-415, 420-423. "Skyland Institute, 1897 [sic: 1887]-1912," and "Miss Emily Prudden Writes Autobiography," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, pp. 74-77. Pell's interest in female education was clearly keen. He later served thirty years as president of Converse College, in Spartanburg, S. C., retiring in 1932: Eleanor R. Millard, comp., A General Catalog of Trustees, Officers, Professors, and Students of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia (n.p., n.d. [Richmond, VA: 1977?]), hereinafter cited as Union Seminary, General Catalog. 5. Hugh Talmadge Lefler and Albert Ray Newsome, The History of a Southern State: North Carolina, 3rd ed. (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1973), pp. 537, 590, and passim. 6. Hope Summer ell Chamberlain, brought up in Rumple's church in Salisbury, recalled that in those days "a Presbyterian child must learn the Shorter Catechism. That was the law in our house. I was expected to learn it thoroughly — by question and answer-by pages-by wholes, without one word or one comma misplaced. I was not expected to understand it. It was considered a deposit laid up for the future in the bank vault of my mind. If ever I changed my early beliefs, as everyone is liable to do, it would furnish a comprehensive statement from which honestly to dissent, not a fog bank to fight against, or the ghost of an ancient authority to be exorcised." This Was Home, p. 178. 7. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 420-423. See also Thompson, Presbyterians, II, 341-352, for debate in the denomination over public vs. parochial education during the 1870's and 1880's. The classic study on the general subject is Charles W. Dabney, Universal Education in the South (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1936). Thompson notes, III, 164, that Southern Presbyterians were long divided over whether to support state-controlled schools, �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 59 but the majority by the turn of the century had come to back the public school movement; thus the denomination participated fully in the "long-awaited renaissance of Southern [public] education" after 1900. The church had rarely ever in the last part of the nineteenth century explicitly combined teaching and preaching functions for its pastorate, except at the college level; many of Davidson College's faculty, for example, were ordained ministers but did not minister to a congregation; pastors at churches were not expected to teach. 8. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 432. If Munroe was temporarily discouraged, he did not let it affect his assignment. His reports over the next several years showed growing success at church planting. Munroe held his post until ill health forced him out in 1917, at age seventy-three. He died at Davidson in 1919. 9. Letter to "Miss Bessie" (Mary Elizabeth Hall), May 13, 1895, quoted in Margaret Tufts Neal, And Set Aglow A Sacred Flame; History of the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association 1895-1942 (Banner Elk: Puddingstone Press, Lees-McRae College, 1983), pp. 7-8. Hereinafter cited as Neal, Sacred Flame. I am grateful to Margaret Tufts Neal for several interviews during 1986 and 1987. 10. Ibid., p. 8. The other seminary field worker in the mountains that summer was licentiate Edward Douglas Brown. The Rev. Brown later was stated clerk and held several charges in Concord Presbytery: Concord and Clio churches in Iredell County, 1907-1916; Thyatira and Back Creek, 1916-1927; Fifth Creek, Third Creek, and Elmwood, 1927-1940. Brown was briefly Munroe's successor as chairman of the home missions committee in 1917. He died in 1946. McGeachy, Confronted, pp. 482, 484, 567. 11. Ibid., p. 5. 12. Ibid., pp. 6, 3. 13. Ibid., pp.13, 18-19; McGeachy, Confronted, p. 443. 14. Rev. W. W. Moore, "A Constructive Christian Worker," The Pinnacles, Memorial Issue, Vol. VII, No. 8 (March 1923), pp. 1,6. 15. Conversation with M. T. Neal, summer 1986. Tufts had also spent somewhat less than a year in the Presbytery of Savannah, Georgia, from the fall of 1901 to sometime in 1902. This interlude is reported on somewhat contradictorily in Synod and presbytery records. Mrs. Neal believes he went to his native state at the urging of some relatives, but "always his heart was with the little white church in the mountains and the school he had started." Sacred Flame, p. 31. He returned to his work in Banner Elk either in June (Synod of North Carolina, Records, 1902, p. 635) or October (McGeachy, Confronted, p. 447). 16. Oral Interview with Helen Weedon Deaton, summer 1986. The "Fairview Plat," laid out by J. M. Howell in August of that year, was the second plat ever accepted by the Register of Deeds in Watauga County. Watauga County Court House, Register of Deeds Office. �60 / Chapter Two 17. WOC History, prepared by Mrs, H. F. Ingle, 1937, at Historical Foundation, Montreat. Laura Clampitt Holshouser, a Hickory native, married Will Holshouser in 1896. She died in 1962 at age 87: press clipping, RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 18. Oral interview with Hattie Brown, July 1987. "Miss Hattie" completed her education at Claremont College, now defunct, in Hickory. After her marriage in 1916, in Mortimer, N.C., "the town that was washed away" in the flood of that year, she and her husband lived in Nashville, where she knew the Rev. James I. Vance, although they did not attend his church. For years after her return to Blowing Rock in 1942, she headed the music department at the Sloops' school in Crossnore, and also taught at the old Blowing Rock High School. She played the piano for the combined Sunday school opening service for many years. "Miss Hattie" has said that Rumple Memorial church has been one of the major vehicles of her Christian life. The sister, Rose McDade, taught Sunday school, and played the piano and the organ at Rumple for several years during the 1920's. 19. James B. Sill, Historical Sketches of Churches in the Diocese of Western North Carolina Episcopal Church (Asheville: Publishing Office, Church of the Redeemer, 1953), pp. 58-60. 20. Letter, W. L. Savage to Mrs. Edgar Tufts, March 22, 1923, kindly provided by Margaret Tufts Neal to the author. 21. Neal, Sacred Flame, pp. 18, 28-30. 22. Ibid,, pp. 64-66. NeaTs account is most likely authoritative; other reminiscences, including VardelFs in the "1936 History," trace the origins of Tufts's sheltering ministry to 1912. 23. The Cannons' gifts to Rumple Church are discussed more fully in the next chapter. But it should be mentioned here that their support for the Grandfather Home continued until their deaths. Among the structures for which their contributions were largely responsible were a cottage for little boys in the 1920's, and an administrative unit completed in 1941, just before the death of the younger Tufts. Neal, Sacred Flame, pp. 72-74, 145. 24. Special Staff of Writers, North Carolina, Rebuilding an Ancient Commonwealth, North Carolina Biography, 4 vols. (Chicago and New York: American Historical Society, 1928), IV, 220-221; hereinafter cited as North Carolina Biography. Ministerial Directory, 1950 edition, p. 697; Davidson, "A Collection of Letters"; The Blowing Rocket, special edition, old advertisement, p. 10. 25. Watauga County Court House, Register of Deeds Office. Martin and Vardell were joint executors of Rumple's estate when he died in 1906. His property at that time passed in shares to his daughter, Linda Lee Vardell, and his grandson, James Malcolmson Rumple. She exchanged her share of the property in Blowing Rock for a share of her nephew's inheritance in Salisbury, so J. M. Rumple became sole owner of the land on Main Street. 26. Information from Linda McNett Yarnell of Laurinburg, N.C., Vardell's granddaughter. Early photographs of the school show a substantial brick �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 61 building similar in design to "Old Chambers" at Davidson, though smaller, and crowned with a dome instead of a columned turret. Symmetrical wings, each three stories high, extended from the taller, pillared central structure. As for the grounds, the flat, piney fields on which the campus was built had badly needed beautification. Vardell drew on his brother's knowledge and interest as a landscape architect in Charleston to improve the campus appearance, bringing in azaleas and other shrubs. For Martin's project, see Davidson, "A Collection of Papers," p. 2. The house is on Concord Road across from the campus; it is not known how much Martin had to do with its design, however. 27. Martin, "1936 History," p. 4. 28. Letter, J. Rumple to Jno. Allen Brown of Salisbury, July 16,1902; original in records of First Presbyterian Church, Salisbury, copy in author's possession. 29. Obituary of E. M. Williamson, July 26, 1934, reprinted 1971 in The Blowing Rocket, clipping provided by Linda Yarnell. According to Mrs. Yarnell, the Williamson house on Chestnut Hill is the only one on the old Vardell compound which still has a view of Grandfather Mountain. Dr. Vardell had advised his brother-in-law to climb a tree to see what the view would be from the intended site of his house, which he did, and so picked the perfect orientation for it. Williamson's children maintained ties to the property until recent years. Mrs. Yarnell also said that James Malcolmson Rumple, the preacher's grandson, was raised by the Vardells. Close in age to Vardell's oldest boy, Charles junior, he felt more attached to his uncle's family than to his stepfather, Dr. Martin. 30. First Presbyterian Church of Nashville, "JAMES ISAAC VANCE," (3-pp. typed MSS., n.d), p. 1. Copy at Historical Foundation. Several sources refer to Vance's selection as one of the nation's best preachers, by the religious periodical The Christian Century, about 1925. 31. Ibid., p. 2. Vance registered the property in the name of his wife, Mamie Currell Vance. They purchased an additional two acres in 1905 when the Clarks rerouted a road connecting the land to the "Caldwell and Watauga Turnpike." Watauga County Courthouse, Register of Deeds Office. 32. A brother, Joseph Anderson Vance, two years younger, also became a Presbyterian minister, following in James's footsteps to King College and Union Seminary. Joseph, too served mostly urban pastorates: in Louisville, Baltimore, Chicago, and Detroit (the latter two in the USA Church). Like his brother, he was a much-published author. Each was moderator of his denomination's General Assembly, James of the PCUS in 1918, Joseph of the PCUSA in 1935. Ministerial Directory, 1942 edition, pp. 729-730. 33. "1936 History," 5-pp. section, "History of the Building of the Rock Church." Original typescript in RMPC records, signed by William J. Martin. The story of the building of the rock church took up more than half the account of the church's history prepared by Martin and Vardell in 1936. Martin meticulously wrote that part of the story, looking back over thirty years; his is apparently the only first-hand account which has survived. Because the 1936 sketch has been so often reproduced and distributed locally, his narrative �62 / Chapter Two has entered the community lore. But it still leaves several questions unanswered: Why such a large structure? Why was no local session established before the work started? What became of the old building? Where did all the stone come from? What ever became of the plans? Since these are questions which would be of particular concern to local, not summer people, it becomes even more apparent that the entire project was conceived by and for visitors, not the permanent residents. The author has searched Dr. Martin's papers at Davidson College for some of this information, without result. 34. Jack Claiborne, The Charlotte Observer, Its Time and Place, 1869-1986 (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1986), pp. 94-95. 35. RMPC session records, old book, p. 115. According to Neal, Sacred Flame, p. 91, Tufts was informed on his death bed in January 1923 that the Banner Elk church had just installed a bell in its tower. It is not inconceivable that Holshouser had ordered that bell on behalf of the Banner Elk congregation. 36. Oral interview with Perry and Shirley Lentz, December 1986. But according to historian Dr. Carl Ross of Appalachian State University, the term "blockade liquor" referred to illegal whiskey. How the term originated is unknown. 37. "1936 History," pp. 5-7. Duncan appears on the 1900 census: as of that date he was twenty-four years old, with a wife and two small children, and listed his occupation as shoemaker. 38. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1940 meeting, p. 22. 39. In the summer of 1906, Munroe toured the mountains three times on behalf of the Home Missions Committee and reported "progress of an encouraging character" everywhere except at Cove Creek and Blowing Rock, where there had been "great numbers of removals of members to other sections and places." He recommended the Cove Creek congregation be dissolved and its five members assigned either to Blowing Rock or Banner Elk, with Tufts to get possession of the building at Cove Creek "to be used in any part of his work most needed at Banner Elk." None of the five seems to have joined RMPC at that time. Indeed, from April 1906 to April 1909, no new members joined. When the Rev. and Mrs. John Ingle joined RMPC in November 1912, the jam seems to have broken. Accessions, some from the Reformed church, picked up; but many of those added before 1920 were by transfer from other Presbyterian churches off the mountain, including in April 1909 Mrs. Dan Klutz (Miss Cordelia Williams) from the Davidson church. 40. RMPC session records; Ross, 1900 Census, Presbytery in that era held two regular sessions per year. Each church ordinarily sent its pastor and its clerk of session, or another session member nominated at a prior session meeting. A review of presbytery records shows Rumple's session was rarely represented all through the 1910's and 1920's, although Tufts attended relatively more frequently, often in the company of an elder from his Banner Elk congregation. Local business obligations, as well as difficult travel conditions, probably precluded Rumple's elders from going very often. 41. "1936 History," "The Church and Grandfather Orphanage," p. 7. �The Tufts Era, 1897-1923 / 63 42. Thompson, Presbyterians, II, 30-32, 100-103. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 444. The work of the Society of Soul Winners, primarily educational, was turned over to the General Assembly in 1911: Thompson, Presbyterians, p. 104. 43. Elizabeth R. Hooker, Religion in the Highlands. Native Churches and Missionary Enterprises in the Southern Appalachian Area (New York: The Home Missions Council, 1933), pp. 204-206; George Brown Tindall, The Emergence of the New South 1913-1945 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1967), pp. 254-262. Both Martin and the Sloops were active in the good roads movement; Martin and all Davidson College celebrated when what is now state highway 115, "the Statesville highway," was completed from Charlotte to Davidson about 1916: photograph, Davidson College Archives. M. M. Sloop made several trips to Raleigh during the early 1920's on behalf of road improvements for Avery County; she was especially concerned that local farmers have access to more distant markets for their cash crops: Sloop, Miracle in the Hills, pp. 124-129. 44. Sloop, Miracle in the Hills, pp. 13-20. 45. Ibid., pp. 21-22. According to McGeachy, Confronted, p. 473, Graham had left the Davidson pastorate in September 1907 to take a charge in Lexington Presbytery. 46. Ibid., pp. 68-74. 47. Minutes of Concord Presbytery, Spring 1912 meeting, p. 98. Martin told Tufts in 1912 that because he had had to lend the Sloops additional funds in order for them to build at Crossnore, his own "benevolent fund" was fully committed and he could not respond to Tufts's plea for help in getting his electric power dam started at Banner Elk: Letter, Martin to Tufts, June 11, 1912, W. J. Martin papers, Davidson College Archives. At the same presbytery meeting at which Hall was ordered to pay the Sloops back, a call to Hall for his pastoral services from Plumtree and Powder Mill churches in Mitchell county was "stricken from the docket," perhaps indicating that Hall was under something of a cloud with presbytery for the incident, although he was apparently never censured. He continued to be listed as "evangelist," residing in Plumtree, in presbytery records until 1925. After a brief service as stated supply pastor at Hughes church in 1925, he was listed as "without charge" in Holston Presbytery until 1942. His status from then until his death at Plumtree in 1953, at age eighty, was given as "infirm." Ministerial Directory, 1956 edition. 48. North Carolina Biography, IV, 601-603. Sloop, Miracle in the Hills, passim. 49. Martin was only the second layman ever chosen as moderator of the General Assembly. He belonged to several PCUS permanent committees over the years: Permanent Committee on the Sabbath, 1908-1914; on Systematic Beneficence, 1911-1913; on Education, 1915-1918, 1920-1931; on Stewardship, 1922; and on Men's Work, 1922-1927. My thanks to Bill Bynum at the Historical Foundation for searching out this information from the General Assembly records. �64 / Chapter Two 50. Presbyterian Church in the U.S., Facing the Situation: Addresses delivered at the Fourth General Convention of the Laymen's Missionary Movement, Presbyterian Church in the U. S., Held in Charlotte, N.C., Feb. 16-18, 1915, [and] Dallas, Texas Feb. 23-25, 1915 (Athens, Ga: Laymens' Missionary Movement [PCUS], 1915) pp. 119-126. 51. Craig, Rev. Edward Marshall, comp. and ed., Highways and Byways of Appalachia; A Study of the Work of the Synod of Appalachia of the Presbyterian Church in the United States (Kingsport, TN: Kingsport Press, 1927), pp. 10-12, and fold-out map attached to back flyleaf. Hereinafter cited as Craig, Highways. See also Thompson, Presbyterians, III, 104-109. 52. The Lenoir Church strenuously opposed the creation of the new Synod. Its session overtured Concord Presbytery in the fall of 1915 to stop Tufts's attempt to add Caldwell, Burke, and McDowell Counties, too, to the new Synod. Tufts's motives are understandable, but, as the church pointed out, the "railroad communication [in these countiesl is altogether East and South of the Blue Ridge." Lenoir Presbyterian Church, Session minutes, September 2, 1915, p. 136. 53. Neal, Sacred Flame, pp. 90-92. In December 1913, Munroe wrote Martin that he had visited Tufts at Cragmont Sanatorium in Asheville where, he reported, Tufts was "very cheerful in spirit and .. . looking remarkably well." His doctor had told him "that in 4 or 6 months he will be entirely restored. His malady according to Dr. [W. C.] Tate and Drs. Brooks and Archer is an acute attack of tuberculosis." Tufts's condition at that time was indeed serious; before he had entered the sanatorium "he got the elders of B. E. church to gather around his bed & they agreed to pay $300 & and [provide a] manse for Rev. L. C. Vass," who had assisted Tufts in Banner Elk the previous summer. With Tufts's approval, Munroe had begun making plans for Vass to take over Tufts's work. Vass, wrote Munroe, "can be secured for $700" a year, with Blowing Rock paying $100 of his salary. Tufts apparently rallied from this illness, however, and the arrangement was not needed. Letter, Munroe to Martin, December 20, 1913, in Martin Papers, Davidson College Archives. Tufts continued to draw his $12.50 a month salary from the Blowing Rock Church during this time, but Savage may have preached at least once for him in the winter of 1913-14. Savage made a $10 contribution to Tufts's salary in April 1914, as did several others, including Mrs. E. R. Stewart and R. A. Dunn. Presumably the church was taking a special collection to help Tufts cover his medical expenses. By April, Tufts was present to preside at a session meeting, the first held since October 1913 at RMPC: Session Records, 1913-14. 54. Lenoir News-Topic, February 8, 1923, p. 6, clipping preserved at RMPC. Also included in the News Topic article were columns reprinted from the Wilmington Star and the Charlotte Observer. �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 IN THE SAME YEAR Edgar Tufts died, Blowing Rock suffered another loss: a disastrous fire which burned half the business district of the town—and led to the establishment of the town's first volunteer fire department soon after. Town residents that autumn of 1923, after trying to stop the blaze's progress with bucket brigades and pails of salt, watched the fire burn itself out against the firebreak of Sunset Drive just before it reached church member Luntz Holshouser's grocery store. Ironically, the best vantage point from which to watch the fire was the porch of the old Watauga Hotel across Main Street, a building which three years later itself went up in smoke. The Episcopal reading room, the post office, and several business structures had been destroyed. But as the Watauga Democrat predicted, "The city of Blowing Rock may be expected to rise from the ashes phoenix-like within a short while." The next year, the "biggest building year" in its history, "six hotels or boarding houses, twenty-six new houses, five businesses, and as many restorations" were undertaken. Some six hundred carpenters were kept busy during this "building epidemic."1 Already the town was profiting from the post-World War I boom in tourism: the Charlotte Observer in 1920 wrote of the "magnificent public highways" which brought Blowing Rock and Linville in "easy reach of Charlotte," especially the much-improved Lenoir Turnpike to Blowing Rock, and noted the "great influx of tourists to the Carolina mountains who formerly sought out the beauties of the Rockies and other places in this and other countries."2 The Yonahlossee Turnpike between Blowing Rock and Linville, completed as early as 1891, was improved for motor traffic in the 1910's; both these toll roads were taken over by the state and operated as free roads after 1921.3 That year Dr. Martin boasted in 65 �66 / Chapter Three a letter to his son that the trip from Blowing Rock to Davidson, via Lenoir, Hickory, and Mooresville, took him only four and a half hours by car (today one can drive the distance in about half that time).4 Few local residents joined the growing numbers of the nation's drivers at first. Rumple elder Will Holshouser reportedly bought the first automobile in the community in April 1913, a motor truck which he used in his dry goods business.5 But already summer tourists had been driving to the mountains: that same year some four hundred ten automobiles were reported to have visited the village. Many would have been chauffeur-driven.6 Also with the end of World War I came a new interest in leisure activities. One new national sports craze of the 1920's was golf, soon to be denounced from many a church pulpit for keeping Christians on the links instead of in the pews on Sundays. Blowing Rock visitors, as at resorts elsewhere in the country, were no longer content to sit on hotel porches and rock, or merely walk in the woods for exercise. In 1920 the Blowing Rock Development Company, a group of local and summer residents, voted to put fifteen thousand dollars toward a golf course for Blowing Rock. "Additional funds will be spent upon other amusements and attractions, and before another season is on Blowing Rock will be provided with the various sports and amusements which have contributed to the success of other resorts," the Observer reported in 1920.7 The year 1923 also saw the beginning of the Blowing Rock Horse Show, at first a rather casual affair of the summer people, but soon to become a major social event of the season.8 As the town became more accessible and active, and as new buildings replaced the destruction along Main Street, the home building boom, which has never really ended in the resort community, began. Houses in the neighborhood of Mayview Park came to typify the newer summer residences. Developed during the 1920's by Walter Alexander of Charlotte shortly after starting construction of his Mayview Manor Hotel, Mayview's winding, graveled streets opened up building lots carefully selected for their views of the John's River gorge. Compared to more recent town development, Mayview Park, and a bit later Laurel Park, grew rather slowly. But their designs seemed suited to the area, and adapted to the automobile. Large, rambling "cottages," usually furnished with servants' quarters, driveways, and garages, in rustic style and shaded by shrubs of laurel and rhododendron, attracted the prominent and wealthy summer population which by that decade was giving a more elegant cachet to the resort town. The newer hotels were drawing summer people from places as distant as Florida. "The Blowing Rock" was changing from a �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 67 local natural curiosity to a tourist attraction: its legend was being embroidered and repeated far and wide, drawing the curious and helping to launch a family's fortune. Blowing Rock was never Newport, Rhode Island, or some similar playground for the ostentatious rich; nationally, the income tax was making it harder for millionaires to maintain a money-is-no-object approach to summer leisure. Nevertheless, for many Southerners, and for visitors from farther afield, Blowing Rock was becoming fashionable. Mayview, which for a while in those years also was the name of a small golf course, was an address which conjured up a carefree but comfortable summer style.9 Some summer residents in this era brought with them, too, the freer, "modern" social habits which still could shock the older generationand even younger traditionally reared Presbyterians. "At about the time Mayview was starting up the whole community was in a twitter. The Bridges twins, Ernestine and Ruth, had walked down Main Street in their riding pants!"10 A young seminary student and recent Davidson College graduate, Thomas Hugh Spence, Jr., son of a Presbyterian minister, recalled seeing "my first woman in the act of smoking a cigarette" on his way from a preaching appointment in Blowing Rock in 1922.11 Making possible the development of the town had been the mundane but significant provision of public services during the immediately preceding years. If electricity and telephones were still mostly absent in the early 1920's,12 another vital improvement had begun: better control over the community's water and waste. Public health concerns in Watauga County had attracted the attention of James Edwin Brooks, M.D., former superintendent of the State Sanatorium for Tuberculosis, who came to Blowing Rock to retire in 1914. He was aghast at the opportunities that the tourist center offered for the spread of contagious diseases. Conditions were no doubt similar in most of the mountain villages, and the crowding in of summer visitors made the dangers of epidemics even greater. . . . Within the village the average family had a stable for the horse and one or more cows, a pigpen, a chicken lot, an outdoor privy, a spring, and a garden. No screens were used to keep the flies out of the houses. Garbage was thrown out to the pigs and chickens. Making matters worse, according to Dr. Alfred Mordecafs later account, every hotel had "a retinue of stable boys and domestic servants, who were very prone to use the back lots and bushes instead of the surface privies provided for them." Thus epidemics like typhoid, �68 / Chapter Three smallpox, and diphtheria had become serious matters in Watauga County. Dr. Brooks's solution was to call local townspeople together around his fireplace, where he patiently explained the health threats these habits were creating. "At 'smokers/ suppers, and other meetings the local citizens were roused to action." Speaking out at these meetings were, among others, two prominent Presbyterian summer people, the Rev. James I. Vance, and Charlotte lawyer and politician Cameron Morrison, who was elected Governor of North Carolina in 1920 and shortly afterward built a home in Mayview. "Soon the fly breeding places were eliminated. A chamber of commerce and other civic organizations developed from Dr. Brooks's work."13 ***** "But who will preach for us and advise when dark days are near?" asked a long time Rumple church member, Mary E. Weedon, at Tufts's death in 1923.14 She and other members had for a quarter century been reassured by the continuity and comfort Tufts had provided for the congregation at Blowing Rock. But as the town found itself increasingly transformed by the postwar boom, so, too, did Presbyterian work in Watauga and Avery counties. In 1922, when Spence was invited to preach in Blowing Rock, he was "mildly thrilled at the prospect of speaking to such a congregation of the elite as assembled for worship at this resort." But he was not yet ordained, nor was he ever called to Rumple. Two years later, just out of seminary and on a drive with friends to Banner Elk, Spence found that Tufts's church in Banner Elk still had no pastor. To this post he was called, and in October, 1924, he was ordained by Holston Presbytery, then in session at that place.15 Spence preached at Banner Elk, and at the chapel Tufts had established at nearby Arbor Dale, but did not assume his predecessor's other pulpits. In the meantime, the work Tufts had begun at another of his outlying preaching points, Shulls Mills,16 had also passed to another man-and altered dramatically by the rapid development of timbering in the area. Tufts had held occasional services from 1917 on at the commissary of the Boone Fork Lumber Company, owned by William Scott Whiting. Logging and sawmill operations had brought some one thousand residents to the community by that time. In 1919, Joseph Shull, a descendant of the original eighteenth-century settler for whom �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 69 an earlier grist mill was named, gave land upon which to build a Presbyterian church. And from New York the next autumn came thirtythree year old Charles G. McKaraher, Jr., a graduate of Columbia College and the Bible Teachers' Training School of New York, to serve as religious director for the employees of Whiting's company. Before his move South, McKaraher had worked in New York city missions and with immigrant labor, and had served as YMCA Secretary in Lockport. Licensed in 1919 in Mecklenburg Presbytery, he was ordained in October of the following year in Holston Presbytery, and installed as pastor of the newly-built Shulls Mills Presbyterian Church.17 As is apparent from his background, McKaraher took a major interest in Christian education and in work among disadvantaged of all sorts. He was evidently drawn by the "Industrial Democracy" philosophy espoused by Whiting at the lumbering operation in Shulls Mills. Workers were to follow the principles of the Golden Rule; leading classes and meetings to inculcate such principles was apparently one of McKaraher's duties for the company. It was an era of corporate paternalism in many Southern industrial towns.18 Whiting, an elder in McKaraher's church, seems to have been more concerned than some with the welfare of his work force and their families, as is evident from his support for MeKaraher's religious and educational efforts. McKaraher was to spend the last years of his life in Shulls Mills, as were the Whitings, even after the timbering ended and the company's operations and most of its employees moved elsewhere.19 Meanwhile, Blowing Rock Presbyterians still had no regular pastor. Spence seems not to have preached in Blowing Rock after his experience in 1922, but McKaraher came over from time to time during 1922 and 1923. Rumple Church records show him moderating the infrequent session meetings after Tufts's death. In May 1923 a congregational meeting discussed calling a minister; "it was decided to work out means and a way to secure a resident pastor which all agreeing was necessary for the best interest of the church." As McKaraher was then living in Shulls Mills, it is not clear whether this decision was intended as a way of encouraging him to settle in Blowing Rock, or whether the church at that point hoped to secure some other pastor. Just where a resident minister would have lived in 1923-24 is moot. Not until December 1926 were Joe White, Paul Klutts (sic) and Eugene Pitts appointed to a "building committee looking to the erection of a manse for the pastor," and five more years would go by until a house was built. By April 1924 the session had decided to call McKaraher to the �70 / Chapter Three Blowing Rock charge, for one-half his time, "beginning April 1st 1924." A congregational meeting to confirm this decision was held in December. The formalities of the call were observed at the spring meeting of Holston Presbytery in April, and McKaraher was installed at the church on May 7, 1925. "Present were Rev. W. C. Young, Rev. D. B. McLaughlin, Rev. McCoy Franklin, Rev. T. H. Spence, Jr., and Elder W. S. Whiting of Shulls Mills Presbyterian Church."20 McKaraher served the church until the end of 1928. During his pastorate a number of "firsts" were observed. New members received into the fellowship included Ethel Holshouser and William L. Holshouser, Jr., Paul Kluttz, Dennis Underdown, Helen Underdown "by letter from Stephens Lutheran Church, Lenoir," Pauline, Doris, and William White. For the first time the session was enlarged, by the election of Howard Kluttz as elder in December 1926. The first deacons, Eubert Holshouser, Howard Holshouser, and H. C. Hayes, were installed that same Sunday. The first every member canvass since 1921 was undertaken by the deacons in 1926; it must have been successful, as another was authorized the year following. Another "first" was the printing of programs for the July and August services, for the summer crowd's support of church operations continued to be crucial. Many of the summer people directly involved themselves at the church whenever they were in town; among those long remembered from this era were the Knox sisters of Salisbury, members of Rumple's former church, all of them "maiden ladies," as the expression went, who often taught Sunday school in the summers and who, late in life, provided a memorial stone for a substantial tract of land in Banner Elk which their father, J. M. Knox, had given the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association in 1924.21 For the first time, too, the church building underwent a major facelift.22 During the summer of 1927 an "advisory committee," consisting of Dr. Vance and summer resident Charles Cannon of Concord, met with the session "relative to recovering the Church and making necessary repairs." According to the session minutes, "W. L. Holshouser was instructed to buy slate roofing to cover the church as soon as approved by the architect." Dr. Martin a few years later recalled that the slate for the roofing project "was secured by Dr. Vance at a greatly reduced rate from a friend in Pennsylvania"; a receipted statement in the church records shows that Holshouser paid the Albion Vein Slate Company of Pen Argyl, Pennsylvania $333.94 at the end of 1928. In addition to whatever break in price the company offered, it gave another two percent reduction to the church, perhaps for cash payment in full. Architect for the project was Henry C. Hibbs (1882-1948) of Nash- �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 771 ville, a designer of ecclesiastical and educational buildings and an elder in Vance's church. Hibbs redesigned the facade and added the present portico, replacing the original porch.23 Hibbs's remodeling, which extended the rustic gothic features of the main building, gave the church a much more harmonious appearance. A comparison of photographs before and after the renovation shows that the work was considerable: the entire east wall of the church was faced in stone all the way to the roof peak, covering the wood siding which had originally begun about nine feet above ground. New windows, to let more light into the sanctuary, were added about halfway up the facade. The redesigned entrance portico admitted worshippers through outside doors facing north and south, rather than through a door directly at the end of the main aisle. The east wall of the new portico, constructed of the same stone as the rest of the building, provided a recessed opening, framed by a stonework arch, which in the summer of 1929 was filled with a stained glass window depicting Christ praying for His disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. The window was given in memory of the church's first pastor, the Rev. Edgar Tufts. But as in the case of the Rumple window, no record of the contributors or of the window's manufacturer remains. The stone marker, "Rumple Memorial," was transferred to the new portico, but the carved stone lintel from the original porch was put to a curious use: part of it became a step to the new portico. Its abbreviated inscription, "fort Ye My People," is still legible to churchgoers entering the south door. What happened to the rest of the inscription (a portion of the famous verse from Isaiah 40:1, "Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, Saith the Lord")? No one now knows. Perhaps the stone broke when the old porch was taken down, or perhaps the lintel was just too long for a step and was cut to fit the space. While the remodeling project was underway, the Episcopalians were completing Saint Mary's of the Hills Church across the street. According to local lore, when the builder, Marshall Foster, wanted a particularly suitable rock for the keystone in the arch of the main entrance, he found the one he needed in the pile the Presbyterians had gathered for their own remodeling. And thus the Rumple congregation was able to recompense its neighbors for the frequent use it had made of their old building in earlier days. "So the Presbyterians say the keystone of the Episcopal Church is a Presbyterian rock."24 Redesign of the church entrance also served another function. The main door had been in direct line of sight of the pulpit; preachers had found themselves distracted during prayers and sermons by members of the congregation arriving late or departing early. The new portico did indeed place the entrances out of the line of the aisle, but the heavy �72 / Chapter Three solid doors created another problem: no one inside could see who was coming in. In the early 1960's elders Rudolph Greene and Owen Coffey cut small windows in the doors, solving the problem in an attractive way.25 ***** At least half of the Rev. McKaraher's time, and no doubt an even larger part of his energy, he gave to a school at Shulls Mills, the Boone Fork Academy. It was one of several institutes or academies in the Synod of AppalacWa which by the 1920's were nominally under Presbyterian control. As a function of home missions, presbyteries appointed their boards of trustees, but the schools actually depended almost entirely upon private funding; presbytery did little but commend them to the churches as worthy of support and encourage special offerings on their behalf.26 In Holston Presbytery the churches themselves could not be counted on for much help: there were "few selfsupporting churches within her bounds and none that could be called rich. . . . In taking over the four counties of North Carolina she assumed a tremendous Home Mission burden."27 Tuition at such schools was of necessity kept very low; many poor children attended free. At Boone Fork in 1924, "Two dollars paid tuition for one month for a day student; five dollars, tuition for one month and board for one week; . .. twenty-five dollars, a teacher's salary for one month."28 As of 1926, there were thirty-four pupils receiving scholarships, eighteen in the high school department. A teaching staff of five included the Rev. and Mrs. McKaraher. In 1924, partly with funds raised in presbytery, a boys' dormitory was erected. By about 1925 some $8,000 had been invested in the school; but in that year presbytery decided to discontinue further funding. The school's operating debt reportedly reached $1,950 by 1926. The 1921 deed to the school property had been made in the name of a joint board of trustees with the Shulls Mills Presbyterian Church which was to serve "for a term of five years, or until such time as the indebtedness upon the school property shall have been liquidated, at which time the school is to pass entirely under the care and control of Presbytery."29 That time never came. Logging and milling operations in Shulls Mills were being terminated by 1926; employees were moving away. The following year, presbytery recommended discontinuing its supervision of the Boone Fork Institute, and, although Mrs. McKaraher �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 73 apparently purchased a part of the property in her own name early in 1927, the prospects for the school were dim. Its last year of operation was 1928. At some time during that year, McKaraher seems to have made a desperate effort to revive the failing academy: a minister who was a member of a Mississippi presbytery, and something of a professional fundraiser, made a special appeal for money for the Institute during a service at the Blowing Rock church. Some $700 was raised, no doubt largely from among the summer people. When it was discovered that presbytery had not authorized such efforts, McKaraher had to appear before a special commission of Holston Presbytery to explain his actions. In October, in executive session, the commission found MeKaraher's explanations unsatisfactory; it also voted to lodge a complaint against the Mississippi-based preacher with his home presbytery. At the fall meeting of presbytery, McKaraher resigned as pastor of both the Shulls Mills and Blowing Rock churches, and was dismissed to the Presbyterian Church, USA. It was a sad end to a worthy effort. By 1928, however, the public schools, and the roads, had improved enough to permit the dwindling number of Shulls Mills youth the chance to continue their education at Cove Creek Elementary and Banner Elk High Schools. As for McKaraher, he spent the years 1931 to 1935 back in a Southern Church pulpit, preaching at the Burnsville and Low Gap Presbyterian Churches. In 1936 he and his family took up residence in Shulls Mills; the Ministerial Directory listed him as "without charge" until he died on November 5, 1972 at the Watauga County Hospital.30 If the actions against McKaraher seem unduly harsh by today's standards, they highlighted a chronic conflict in mission work and mountain education: schools provided by local governments continued until the 1920's to lag behind those available in larger towns and cities, thus encouraging home mission field workers to persevere in operating academies in rural areas where clear need existed. Yet the isolation and poverty of such regions made money-raising difficult and reliance on outside funding almost inevitable. In a lengthy report to Holston Presbytery in 1929, the home missions committee reiterated that the "policy of the committee and the Presbytery with respect to schools and educational activities during this period [1925-1929] has been to eliminate as rapidly as possible all competition with public schools and at the same time to standardize the school work which is carried on. The result of this policy has been that most of the small schools of the church have been discontinued or consolidated with the public schools. The entire educational program �74 / Chapter Three of the Presbytery, with respect to work above the elementary grades, now centers at Banner Elk where we have an accredited high school and a potential junior college."31 A similar policy was being pursued throughout the denomination. In 1931 an ad interim committee of the General Assembly "acknowledged that mission schools had been planted too promiscuously and sometimes poorly located"; the Assembly that year reconfirmed its intent to turn over its work to public authorities wherever possible. "In 1925 fourteen mountain [high] schools were maintained by the Assembly's Home Missions Committee. By 1934, there were only three, all in Kentucky."32 An era in mission education was ending. The collapse of the work at Shulls Mills must be seen as part of this larger trend. The departure of McKaraher again left the Blowing Rock church without a pastor. For more than a year the pulpit was officially listed as vacant. But in the interim, as he reported to Presbytery in 1929, "The Blowing Rock field has been supplied by the Superintendent of Home Missions and others." This superintendent was the muchtraveled Walter King Keys (1893-1973), who since 1925 had overseen "some remarkable advances" in home mission work in the region. Keys was a son of the Appalachian mountain region; he was to serve it and its people for most of his preaching career. One of three children born in Washington County, Virginia to a country storekeeper, the young Keys experienced early the heavy responsibilities that often went with life in the economically dependent area. His father lost the store, and his land, in the depression of the 1890's; then in 1904 he died, of exposure and cold. Keys's mother continued working in what had been the family business, but the eleven year-old boy had to drop out of school and take various lumbering and sawmilling jobs to help support the family. At his mother's insistence, Keys at sixteen went back to school. Early in life he had felt a call into the ministry. His father had nicknamed him "little preacher" even as a small child. And so, after finishing high school in Washington County and teaching school himself for a year, he entered King College in Bristol, Tennessee, in 1912. King was one of a number of small Southern Presbyterian colleges struggling early in the century to serve both church and the community. Founded shortly after the Civil War, its original board hoped it �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 75 would become a theological seminary. Many of its first students were Confederate veterans who wore their old uniforms to class. But the school soon blossomed into a liberal arts college, with a curriculum modeled on that of the University of Virginia. It did produce numerous ministers, including the Revs. James I. and Joseph Vance, whose father was at one time president of its board of trustees. Tuition was minimal. A tiny endowment raised by the founders prevented it "on more than one occasion . . . from closing its doors."33 Here Keys could study while living at home, repeating the experience of the Vance brothers. His classmates soon recognized Keys's talent for public speaking. He was elected senior class president and was valedictorian of the class of 1916. Keys stayed on to work for the Master's degree in 1917, then entered Union Seminary in Richmond, where he received the B.D. in 1920.34 In the fall of 1921, Keys married Eleanor Fell Fickle, of Bristol, Virginia. He was called to a group of churches in Charles City and New Kent Counties, Virginia, from 1920 to 1922, and then to Providence Forge and Cool Springs churches, also in rural Virginia, until being named superintendent of home missions and evangelist for Holston Presbytery at its spring 1925 meeting. From then until a breakdown forced him to resign his post in 1930, Keys traveled some ten thousand miles each year, visiting the churches, holding evangelistic services, and overseeing the various educational and fundraising operations of presbytery. Presbytery minutes of these years often included lengthy reports Keys prepared on his work. Two of his interests are especially evident from the record: his awareness of, and indeed promotion of, the area's potential for rapid economic development; and his concern to extend and upgrade the work and life of the region's churches. To Keys, the industrial growth of the area, and the newer type of agriculture which was producing crops for more distant markets, were bringing greater economic opportunity for the mountain people. "Huge enterprises and manufactories such as our fathers never dreamed of are rising in our midst," he wrote in 1929. "Certainly the outlook for this section is not a gloomy one. This means that there will be more people coming here all the while and more souls to be saved." To meet the need, he continually exhorted the churches to increase their level of giving while practicing "the utmost economy" in his own work.35 During 1929 Keys moderated five session meetings at Rumple Church. Late that spring he conducted special services for several days which brought a number of local residents forward to be baptized and received into the church: Lois Klutz, Mary Klutz, Edith White, Oma Green, Mrs. Cecil Critcher, Opal Pitts, Mae Tester, Beulah Lee Tester, �76 / Chapter Three and Cameron A. Williams. "Mrs. Lillie Hartley was received on statement of her having been member of the Reformed Church and restatement of her faith in Christ." Keys also urged the session to "place an electric sign board on the church yard, to have window cards, hotel signs, and a church paper covering the entire summer program printed." The session may well have considered calling Keys to the pastorate at Rumple, but early in 1930 his health failed him and he was forced to resign his post.36 In 1934 Keys and his wife moved with their three children to Roan Mountain, Tennessee, where both taught school until 1939. But his work at Blowing Rock had made an impression on the congregation. In 1940 he would receive the first of two calls to Rumple Church. ***** During 1929 Keys recommended that presbytery "authorize the grouping of the Banner Elk, Blowing Rock, and Shulls Mill [sic] Churches under one pastorate, and approve the appointment of a committee . . . to confer with said churches in effecting arrangements for such grouping," But this virtual recreation of Tufts's charge never occurred. In 1929, after five successful years, which had included a year and a half s leave of absence for additional study in Edinburgh, Scotland, Spence attempted to resign his pastorate at the Banner Elk Church and accept another call; his church did not want to let him go. A committee appointed by presbytery, after investigating the matter, recommended he be allowed to move. At the spring 1930 meeting of presbytery, the "Banner Elk-Blowing Rock field" was reported vacant. "Earnest effort is being made to secure God's man for this field soon."37 In the summer of 1930 another mountain preacher, the Rev. William R. Smith, Jr., a graduate of King College, 1915, and Union Seminary, 1924, left the pulpit of the Spruce Pine Presbyterian Church "to accept work as the director of religious activities with the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association at Banner Elk." Smith had spent a summer in the field at Shulls Mills while in seminary; he had served since 1926 on the staff of the Grandfather Home in Banner Elk. He would already have been familiar to many in the Blowing Rock church. On June 11, 1930, the session at Blowing Rock, moderated by the Rev. T. P. Johnson of Holston Presbytery, asked that Smith be appointed stated supply "until the next meeting of presbytery. The relationship is to con- �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 11 tinue until the request is made by session to discontinue it." On June 26, Smith got permission to "give to the Blowing Rock Church onefourth his time as stated supply." For almost exactly one year, until June 30, 1931, the Rev. Smith fulfilled his duties at Banner Elk and Blowing Rock, until he was granted a letter of dismission to Bluestone Presbytery in West Virginia. The Clerk of Presbytery at that time was "directed to write Mr. Smith a letter of appreciation of his services at Spruce Pine, N. C. and Banner Elk." Nothing was said of his services to Blowing Rock. Apparently Smith moderated just one session meeting (recorded only on a loose sheet of paper stuck in the minute book) during his year as stated supply; he undoubtedly considered his duties at Banner Elk his primary responsibility.38 This time the Blowing Rock pulpit was not vacant for long. On June 26, 1931, the recently ordained, twenty-nine year-old Grundy Sexton Buchanan, originally of Rich Valley, in Smyth County, Virginia, took over as pastor. He had been evangelist in Holston Presbytery for several months, working out of Rogersville, Tennessee, since graduating from Union Seminary in 1930. Buchanan had entered King College "late in life" (he was twenty-two) because it had been necessary to go away to high school, in Abington, to complete his secondary education; he graduated from King in the class of 1927. The minister later recalled he had "Godly parents" who saw that the large family was "trained in the true teachings and Doctrines of the Holy Bible and in the Traditions of the Presbyterian Church." Married to Nita Kensinger in May 1930, they had four children: Andrew Sexton, John Gatewood, David Campbell, and Betty Graham. His call to the church was formalized at a congregational meeting in September 1931, at which he was unanimously chosen as Rumple's first full-time pastor. A presbytery committee installed him on November 8. Buchanan served in Blowing Rock until April 1939. He later went on to a long ministry, mostly at mountain churches in Virginia. He died in 1986 at age 84.39 One of Buchanan's first actions was to attend to the spiritual life of his new congregation. "The session felt the need of a series of evangelistic services in the church and [set] the last two weeks in September" as the date, but for some reason the meetings were postponed until November. The Rev. John Martin assisted in these services. As often happened in such instances, the session shortly afterwards was called upon to examine individuals who presented themselves for baptism and church membership; some were relations of church members, a few were new to the fellowship. Joining in December 1931 were "Master William Teaster [sic]", William P. Klutz, Gladys Teaster, Bill White, �78 / Chapter Three and Miss Helen Sudderth. Mrs. Don Johnson also joined at this time, transferring her membership from a Baptist church, and her "little infant son, Steven Hawthorne Johnson" was baptized. The Rev. Martin attended this session meeting, no doubt to celebrate with the pastor the call of God to these new Christians.40 By the end of the church year 1931, membership stood at fifty. Another of Buchanan's obligations was to insure the church observed the Book of Church Order. Session meetings were to be held quarterly; they had been infrequent during the nearly two years the pulpit was vacant. The sacrament of communion was to be celebrated quarterly. And, "Due to the fact that the present plan of church finance seems inadequate, the Session unanimously adopted the envelope system and orders that it be put in practice immediately." The Depression years, and the absence of a regular pastor, had indeed been hard on the church's finances. Total giving for all causes during 1930 had been only $975, but in 1932 the church reported $3340 in receipts. The new pastor's salary still was supplemented from presbytery home mission funds, but increasingly the local congregation was being drawn into the support of the church, which grew greatly under his leadership.41 According to the Watauga Democrat in June, 1933, the "Rev. Buchanan has been taken in by the people of Blowing Rock and accepted as one of them and has made myriads of friends throughout the county." It was probably he who provided the church's nickname, "The Friendly Little Gray Church on the Mountain Top": the church was so "known to the thousands of tourist and resort followers" who visited in this period.42 Buchanan also helped to build the congregation's physical resources. During his years at Rumple, two structures which served the church for more than a generation were completed: a manse and a Sunday school plant. And as had become the pattern, summer residents played a major part in helping build his legacy. A fulltime pastor with a growing family needed a house to live in. For five years such a project had been stalled. But at the first session meeting Buchanan moderated, the decision was made to build a manse "on [the] church lot at [the] rear of [the] church"; it was actually built on the south side of the church, approximately where the 1970 educational building now stands.43 Dr. Vance preached a sermon and asked for a special offering on the fourth Sunday in July, 1931; $787 was collected toward the project in that Depression summer. The session authorized elder Joe White to draw up the plans and go ahead with the building, "appropriating money as far as [it] would go, and to secure as much free labor as possible." By November the job was done, at a cost of $2,000. It is not clear from the record how the rest was raised, or �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 79 which local people supplied the labor, but in March 1935, Eubert Holshouser, deacon and church treasurer, reported that "all bills were paid and obligations were met." March, 1933, marked a major psychological turning point in the economically depressed nation. Renewed public confidence had its reflection in Blowing Rock. When the church elders and deacons met around the pastor's supper table at the new manse on March 7, just three days after the inauguration of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, "a general discussion was held regarding the world condition relative to the church." The Rev. D. C. Amick, presbytery evangelist, was present to "bring out the church's need and God's challenge to his people." At a well-attended preaching service afterwards, Amick took his text from Malachi 3: 8-10: "Will a man rob God? ... Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." "The sermon was helpful and forceful," the minutes recorded. "We hope much good will come from this meeting. A determinate manifestation was to continue work by the help of God. Plans were made to have every member canvas on Sunday, March 19th." During the summer of 1933, the church co-sponsored with the Banner Elk Presbyterian Church a Bible conference which brought the Rev. Dr. F. Crossley Morgan, "one of the greatest living expositors of God's Word," to lead a week-long series of meetings at both places. "Trained for the Christian ministry by his father, Dr. G. Campbell Morgan," the well-known author, minister, and Bible teacher, the younger Morgan had been decorated for service in the British Army during First World War, and for several years had served Presbyterian pulpits throughout the South before going full time into Bible conference work. His appearance in Rumple's pulpit indicated the nature of the outreach the church was making to residents and summer people alike.44 As the church's membership increased, so, too, did its need for additional space. Sunday school enrollment by 1935 had reached 145, including the Cradle Roll, with a total of ten teachers and officers. But local resources remained inadequate to enlarge the church plant: out of a total of seventy-eight on the church roll, thirty members subscribed to the every member canvas in 1935, but their pledges toward local work and benevolences combined came to only $561.45 In its need, the session did not hesitate once again to turn to summer residents for help. The first Sunday in August, 1935, was set aside �80 / Chapter Three for a special offering "for the general expenses of the church." No record remains of the amount collected, but it must have come nowhere near what was hoped. At a congregational meeting that September, "A question was put before the house as to whether we would try and build a Sunday School plant or install a heating system in the main summer auditorium—there was [a] unanimous vote to install heat . . . and due to lack of funds . . . trust to future for our cherished dream of a Sunday School plant." By November 1935, excavation work and installation of the first central heating system for the stone church was completed. The Sunday school building would have to wait.46 ***** As the summer of 1936 approached, Blowing Rock Presbyterians began making plans to observe the church's fiftieth anniversary. One of the curiosities in the church's history is the decision to pick 1936, and not 1937, to celebrate the occasion. To be sure, the building had been erected, and dedicated by Dr. Rumple, fifty years earlier. But such careful followers of the Book of Church Order as the Revs. Buchanan, Vance, and Vardell, and Dr. Martin, must have known that until presbytery orders a church name entered on its roll, and accepts members, formal organization has not been effected. In Blowing Rock's case this did not occur until July, 1887. What clues exist for the decision to celebrate the semicentennial a year early? Still at the church are some of the materials collected for the event. Someone, presumably Buchanan, obtained in 1936 excerpts of Concord Presbytery records from the Historical Foundation at Montreat. These materials, along with some information on the church's current affairs, he turned over to Dr. Vardell, who seems to have been the guiding spirit behind preparing the sketch of the church's history. Vardell, in turn, delegated to his brother-in-law, Dr. Martin, the job of writing up the story of the building of the rock church. The original typescript of several pages covering only that subject, signed by Martin, is still extant in the church papers. These two men, along with elder Eubert Holshouser, would read the history to the congregation on July 26, 1936. Interestingly, the typed pages obtained from Montreat were "corrected" in longhand at some point by someone to make 1886 instead of 1887 the date for the church's organization. So a mis- �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 81 taken choice of date, if there was one, would most likely have been made by Vardell. Perhaps he had actually convinced himself that the records of Concord Presbytery were in error! But another clue exists as to why the celebration took place in 1936. By that year, all the church's living links to its founding were in retirement. Vardell had turned over leadership of Flora MacDonald to a younger man in 1930. Martin had retired as president of the Assembly's Training School in 1933. And in 1936 Dr. Vance stepped down as pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Nashville; ill health now plagued the once-powerful preacher who over the years had done so much for the Blowing Rock church and community. No doubt all three men were feeling keenly their own mortality. It is significant that Vance apparently took no active part at the 1936 anniversary service, although he was most certainly in attendance. The celebration seems to have been entirely the idea of these men, in any case; nothing in the minutes shows the session ever discussed the matter. Might they not have feared that at least one of their number might not live to see the true anniversary date? Whatever the motive, the celebration was observed on July 26,1936. The program included an organ prelude played by Dell Bernhardt (Mrs. Henry) Wilson, a summer resident from Lenoir, who would later write The Grandfather and the Globe, a fictionalized account of local experiences during the Civil War. Hers was one of four generations of the Bernhardt family to summer in Blowing Rock. A soprano solo was sung by Christine Henkel, member of a "transplant" family originally of Lenoir and Statesville risen to prominence by its real estate transactions and ties to the summer community; but she was not a Rumple Church member. The choir sang an anthem by composer Charles Gounod, "Father of Heaven," which, the bulletin noted, had been played at the dedication of the first church.47 This fact could have been known to only a few people living. Perhaps Linda Rumple Vardell, herself an accomplished musician, knew it from her mother. The main address that Sunday, "Our Church-What She Has Done, Is Doing, and May Do," compiled by Vardell and Martin and later retyped and widely circulated locally, has served until now as the only written history of the church and has been cited frequently in this account. Several items in it of interest as of 1936, however, should be noted, as should some of its omissions. First, it included a page tracing the relationship between the church and the Grandfather Orphanage in Banner Elk. Vardell recounted his visit to Tufts's work in 1918, described his first collection of $1000 from the summer congregation at Rumple, and listed the amount of �82 / Chapter Three the annual offerings to date. The source for the figures Vardell gave is not known; if any records had been kept at the church, they have since disappeared. The Grandfather collections were at this time usually kept "off the books," anyway; they were not tallied among other church benevolences in the annual reports to the General Assembly. Possibly the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association supplied the numbers, but more likely they came from Vardell's own accounts, since all along the project had been dear to his heart. Up to 1936, the highest annual amount collected was $4,421.39 in 1925; but the 1927 sum was almost as high: $4,305.07. After reaching $4,000.00 in 1930, collections dropped to a Depression low of $2,530.73 in 1933; but by 1935 the amount had crept back upward to $2,660.78. Altogether the church had contributed $43,364.61 to the Home by 1936. By including in the church's history an account of the work done on the Home's behalf, Vardell undoubtedly did much to hallow the tradition. New promoters were soon to step forward who would help raise the amounts collected to even greater heights, but Grandfather Home Sunday has remained the single largest benefaction ever undertaken at Rumple Church. Another segment of the church's history described the support provided to the work of Mary G. Warfield, M.D., who had moved to Blowing Rock "In the providence of God" and at the urging of a number of local and summer people concerned especially for the "care of the mountain women at the time of childbirth." In 1928 she began a medical practice which lasted almost twenty years. Dr. Warfield joined Rumple Church in 1941. Her clinic was consistently supported, both by the local members and the summer residents, from the time of her arrival; she made many house calls as well. The care of infants and children was her chief interest: she held free "well baby" clinics and "tonsil clinics" for local residents, and as her practice grew, she needed a more permanent facility in which to work. A building just behind Rumple Church was erected and equipped for her between 1933 and 1935. Up to 1936 church members and summer people had donated more than five thousand dollars' worth of land, labor, and materials, while church offerings had procured several items of specialized equipment. To Dr. Warfield's work may be traced the origins of today's Blowing Rock Hospital. She retired to Tryon, N.C. in early 1947, turning over her practice to Dr. Charles Davant. And so the church had played a part in providing the community with its first modern health care facility. The sense of mission which Presbyterians had so often dis- �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 83 played in their dedication to schooling and to medical work had left another legacy of community service in Blowing Rock.48 The 1936 historical account said nothing about the important activities of the local Women's Auxiliary, or as such groups were becoming known in the denomination by the 1930's, the Women of the Church. As another form of community service and as a means for encouraging women's devotional worship, however, it deserved mention.49 The first record of women's work at the Blowing Rock church went back to 1906, when Mrs. Gaither Hall attended a meeting of the Women's Home and Missionary Union of Concord Presbytery, held in Salisbury that September. She was elected vice-president of the group for Watauga County. No records show the extent of that body's activity locally, and as Mrs. Hall moved away in 1907, it is uncertain who, if anyone, provided leadership after her departure.50 Then "on a cold, snowy day, January 30,1930," Mrs. J. H. VonCanon and Mrs. W. C. Tate, two prominent members of the Banner Elk Presbyterian Church, came over to meet at Mrs. W. L. Holshouser's home with a number of the Blowing Rock church women to help organize an Auxiliary. The original officers were: Mrs. H. F. Ingle, president, Mrs. H. P. Holshouser, vice-president, Mrs. E. G. Underdown, secretary, and Mrs. W. L. Holshouser, treasurer. "Friends from the Baptist church and the school... joined the Auxiliary in the observance of the day of prayer for schools and colleges." That summer the women of Holston Presbytery held a group conference at Rumple Church; "there were fifty-six ladies present, also several resident summer visitors." By the late 1930's, some of the projects which the Women of the Church had sponsored included: serving for Grace Hospital, and sending sheets and baby gowns to that cause in Banner Elk; taking collections for the "Birthday Projects" supported by the denomination's Women of the Church;51 holding "weeks of prayer and self-denial" and Bible study classes for the membership; sponsoring the first Daily Vacation Bible School in the summer of 1933; canning goods for shipment to Grandfather Home, starting in 1934; and making curtains for the new Sunday school building in 1936-7. Combined membership in two WOC circles by the time of the semicentennial stood at 25.52 The educational and service function of this organization is difficult to calculate, but it must have been great. For many women it served as their chief social outlet; for the church it was an important source of strength, both spiritual and material. It continues to play a key role in the life of the church to this day. �84 / Chapter Three ***** Annie Ludlow Cannon loved children. By 1936 she had generously supported for more than twenty years Presbyterian causes in Concord, in the mountains, and elsewhere. She and her husband Joseph F. Cannon during the 1920's built "Miramichi," the summer cottage in Mayview Park where she lived for some forty years. Nearby was the summer home of her brother-in-law, Ross Cannon, and his wife. Other Cannons, Charles A. "Charlie" Cannon and James "Jim" Cannon, also had summer places in town. All attended Rumple Church and aided its work; but Annie Cannon was closest to the young people. Probably no layperson so touched the lives of Rumple children as did Annie Cannon. Not only have both the church's educational buildings been made possible by her generosity; she was herself a dedicated Christian teacher. Many now in middle age remember her "Good News Bible Classes," which were open to all the town's youth. Her teaching was strikingly visual, and to a generation that had never seen television, and rarely a movie, her method left behind vivid impressions of the Biblical scenes and spiritual lessons she described. Using an easel to hold her large storyboard, she placed her oil-painted characters and symbols, backed with felt, against a flannel background, where they adhered during the story, or were easily moved as appropriate to the lesson. If now and then a piece fell to the floor, it only added to the children's delight. Her work was sponsored in Blowing Rock, Concord, and other places by the interdenominational Child Evangelism Fellowship. In her mature years she carried her lessons widely to other churches, local summer camps and adult groups as well. For the teenagers and young adults of the community, the Cannons' house was frequently open on Sunday evenings for hymn singing, refreshments, and fellowship. Older summer residents, too, often attended; here the generations met and some of the barriers between "local" and "summer" people were overcome.53 Until her death in March, 1965, at Blowing Rock, Annie Cannon seems to have demonstrated the gift of Christian charity to all she knew. She commanded nearly universal affection and respect, for despite disparities of wealth, she mixed amiably with many local people, regularly visiting prayer circle meetings, for example, at the home of Mrs. Martha Tester, who counted Mrs. Cannon "one of her dearest friends."54 Born in Winston-Salem in 1887, the same year Rumple Church was organized, she and her husband reared three children of their own, as well as a granddaughter, Anne Cannon Reynolds, who in 1938 joined �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 85 Rumple Church on profession of faith at age eight. By 1936 Mrs. Cannon had convinced her husband that she should provide in her will for Rumple Church; she was determined that the children she had come to love would have adequate facilities there, and that the congregation would be able to worship comfortably all year around. Yet she was not satisfied. It took some more convincing, but in that year she persuaded Joe Cannon that the project should not have to await her death.55 And so on Sunday, May 24, 1936, after church, she met with the session and "expressed her desire to build on adequate Sunday School rooms to the church and ask[ed] the permission of the session to do so, which was done with a deep appreciation of what Mrs. Cannon is and does for our church. The session voted to maintain said building after it is builded." Mrs. Cannon and Buchanan named the building committee: "Rev. G. S. Buchanan, ex-officio; Howard Holshouser, chairman; Joe White, Ed Underdown, Clark Brown, Mrs. W. L. Holshouser, W. L. Holshouser. The committee was to begin at once to plan and begin building." Everyone on the committee was a long-time local member except for Brown; he and his wife and two daughters lived three years, 1935-1938, in Blowing Rock, then returned to Jefferson, where they rejoined the Jefferson Presbyterian Church.56 By the semicentennial summer, then, work on the building was well underway. Contractor for the project was Cameron A. Williams, a church member after 1929 and builder of a number of homes in Blowing Rock. The work was done the old-fashioned way, with mules and drag pans; no mechanized equipment had yet appeared in town. Numerous local men worked on the project. Former clerk of session Rudolph Greene remembers helping lay floor tiles and doing other jobs; he was fourteen at the time.57 The building measured twenty-eight by fifty-four feet and was two stories high. Detached from the stone church, it projected some ten feet beyond the line of the original building on the north and came about even with it on the south. A covered alcove allowed passage from the two buildings; here the choir would wait on summer Sundays to enter the choirloft of the main sanctuary directly from an outside door. Above its rock foundation the new wing was finished in wood shingles. "On the first floor is a large room for the infant class, three other classrooms, a kitchen, a hall measuring 27 feet long by 10 feet 6 inches, and a furnace room that can be used as a classroom. The second floor is an auditorium with a rostrum and floor space measuring 40 by 27 feet."58 Over the next thirty-five years, the structure served as Sunday school plant and winter chapel as well; for it had become clear that �86 / Chapter Three the heating system just installed in the rock church was inadequate. The "auditorium," considerably remodeled and refurbished in recent years, still serves as winter chapel. In April 1987 it was named the Keys Chapel "To Honor the Ministry and Lives" of Dr. and Mrs. Keys, "Whose service to this Church and the Community of Blowing Rock endeared them to all." Sunday, October 4,1936, the day after the building was completed, a special all-day program celebrated the event, "setting [the new structure] apart to the teaching and preaching ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ." A "Rally Day Program" called "The Lighted Way" involved all the children—membership in the church school had reached 175 by 1936-during the morning. Buchanan delivered an address. Dinner on the grounds was served afterwards "to a large gathering." That afternoon "appropriate dedication services were held," the pastor preaching from Matthew 16:18: "I will build my Church." After the consecration, "The service was appropriately closed by the observance of the Lord's Supper." In a "Historical Note" for the session records Buchanan wrote, "This building was presented to the congregation by Mrs. Joe Cannon who paid for the erection of the building. May God bless her richly for this glorious deed and service to Him who is the great head of the Church."59 The new facilities led to an extension of the church's Sunday school program, and permitted other, wider outreach. The 1937 records provided a full list of teachers and workers then active: J. E. ("Peck") Holshouser, superintendent; L. D. (Dow) Tester, assistant superintendent; Mrs. W. L. Holshouser, treasurer; and Bob Hardin, secretary. Teachers were: men's Bible class, the Rev. Buchanan; women's Bible class, Mrs. W. L. Holshouser and Mrs. L. D. (Martha) Tester; young people's class, Mrs. Jane Story; intermediate girls' and boys' class, Mrs. Don Johnson; junior girls, Mrs. Buchanan; junior boys, Mrs. Jessie Burns; primary department, Mrs. Bill Holshouser; beginners' department, Mrs. J. E. Holshouser. A nursery and cradle roll department was unassigned that year. In 1937, the church gave over use of its new facilities to the fall meeting of Holston Presbytery. "The session voted to buy necessary foods which would not be donated such as the meats for the dinner to be served to Presbytery on Tuesday, October 5, 1937. And all necessary arrangements were made to cooperate in making Presbytery comfortable and happy while here."60 In 1938 session also voted to "sponsor the Boy Scout Troop No. 42 of Blowing Rock for the coming year 1939."61 The church at last had a plant which met the needs of its year round membership and allowed it a greater community role. �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 87 ***** During the interwar period, and for many years to come, the color line was still observed in Blowing Rock. The town had practically no permanent black residents. But the black "help" many of the summer people brought with them-chauffeurs, cooks, "nurses" for their children-were not accepted in the local churches. Rumple Church apparently allowed "the colored people" to use the old Sunday school room for services on Sunday evenings; it is not clear when this practice began. At a session meeting in June, 1932, the matter was discussed: would the practice go on that summer "as usual"? The session declared itself "not in favor of granting this permission, due to the fact that the young people of the church had spent a considerable sum of money to fix up the Sunday School room for their own use. The session advised, however, that the authorities be notified to this effect, and that special effort be made to secure another place." If none was found, the session agreed to reconsider the matter.62 Apparently none was. In early July the session met again on the issue. "It was decided to grant them permission, but should Dr. Vance, Dr. Vardell, or Dr. [sic] Dunn or other ministers decide to have services for them they are welcome to do so, but we refuse to turn over service to colored people without white supervision." The following summer the session was even more negative: the "colored people's" use of the building conflicted with Rumple's own evening program; "some among us feel offended"; the building was "in constant use" on Sundays, which prevented it being used by others; "we feel constrained to refuse the use of the church to the colored people. . . . The pastor was ordered to write the session's action to these colored people requesting services."63 But next month the session members relented a bit. Perhaps Vance, Vardell, and Dunn convinced them to permit use of the Sunday school room for a service on August 6,1933; "this is not a permanent arrangement."64 No record shows what happened in 1934, but in July 1935 the session met at Will Holshouser's store to go over the issue again. "All objections were brought out coming from others. After thoughtful and prayerful discussion, it was unanimously decided . . . to permit the colored people to use the Sunday school room with the understanding that the service was to begin at 8:30 p.m. and close at 9:30. This was due to the fact that long services have been held heretofore —to the interference and disturbance of the hospital at rear of church."65 Here �88 / Chapter Three matters stood for several years; not until the late 1940's, and another generation of leaders emerged, would new arrangements for the blacks' worship be worked out. ***** By the end of the 1930's, Rumple Memorial's membership had increased to 116. A fulltime pastor had obviously proved of enormous benefit to the congregation's growth and outreach. But the church's budget still did not allow for full support of the pastor's salary; Buchanan continued to get supplements from presbytery's home missions committee. Despite a doubled membership at the church, the minister got only one salary increase in seven full years of service, from $810 to $900 in 1934. The amount of presbytery's support had risen from $400 to $480 by 1939. His housing was of course taken care of. It is quite possible that some summer residents assisted him with gifts which went unreported, and he got paid for an occasional service conducted in some other church. Still, with a growing family to support, his checks would not have stretched far. The grand total raised in the church year 1938 from the permanent membership, for current expenses and for regular benevolent causes, was only $1505.96. The congregation had for several years been taking up a special summer collection to help cover its regular expenses; and in March 1939, as budget time again approached, the session discussed "raising our unsubscribed budget by private subscription among summer friends, thus eliminating the annual summer offering if possible." But the following month, after the session had accepted the next year's budget, which again foresaw no salary increase for the pastor, Buchanan asked to resign. Although the record says nothing of his reasons, he may have been discouraged by the church's inability to pay aU of his support.66 Buchanan's request touched off nearly a year of difficult times. The congregational meeting called to discuss his resignation resulted in a vote to keep him on; another meeting had to be convened to release him, for Buchanan had by then accepted a call to the Mount Carmel Church in Lee County, Virginia. A pulpit committee met several times, apparently without result, and Dr. Vardell was asked to "assist in supplying the pulpit until a pastor is secured." A "Rev. Mr. Fox" assisted at several services; he preached on the Sunday Mrs. Cannon joined by transfer of her church letter, on October 8,1939. A congrega- �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 89 tional meeting later that month called the Rev. Frank King, then serving several churches in and around Bristol, Virginia. But King did not come: he soon became instead assistant pastor at Idlewild Church in Memphis. The Rev. John Yelton, home missions superintendent for Holston Presbytery, preached and also moderated a number of session meetings during this period. A product of Plumtree School and a summer worker at Shulls Mills in earlier days, Yelton would have been familiar with the area, and also with the recovery to health of the man who had been his predecessor at presbytery. It was Yelton who, at a meeting in March, 1940, "after telling of the life and work of Rev. Keys, asked the congregation to vote by ballot on the question of calling Rev. Keys to the pastorship." The vote was overwhelmingly in favor. Keys was given the annual salary of $1500, only about $120 more than his predecessor had received, but subventions from presbytery were no longer requested. Keys was to be the first pastor at Rumple Church fully supported from locally-donated funds. A new and still more active chapter in Rumple Memorial's history was about to open.67 �90 / Chapter Three Notes for Chapter Three 1. "Business Section of Blowing Rock Almost Completely Destroyed," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 12. "Around Town," ibid., p. 37. 2. "From the Charlotte Observer: Improvements Made In Blowing Rock," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 13. The Observer's owner from 1892 to 1914, Daniel A. Tompkins, had a summer home in Blowing Rock from 1909 until his death. The newspaper, under his successors, was a strong supporter of the North Carolina "Good Roads" movement, which was a great benefit to the state's mountain regions. Claiborne, The Charlotte Observer, pp. 141,143. 3. The road from Valle Crucis via Shulls Mills to Blowing Rock was also apparently a toll road until about this time: Lois Hayes, "An Account of the Shulls Mills Settlement Until 1940," in Sanna Gaffney, et. al, The Heritage of Watauga County, North Carolina, Volume I, 1984 (Winston-Salem, NC: Hunter Publishing Co., 1984), pp. 71-73. Hereinafter cited as Hayes, "An Account." 4. Letter, Dr. W. J. Martin to W. J. Martin III, July 13, 1921, in W. J. Martin papers, Davidson College Library. By this date the Martins also had a summer home at Montreat; Martin had bought a lot there in 1913. The family spent part of each summer at each place. 5. "Around Town," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 7. 6. "Autos Brings [sic] About Early Changes," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 62. 7. "From the Charlotte Observer: Improvements Made in Blowing Rock," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 13. 8. "Early Horse Show Days Recalled," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 66. 9. Vardell-Gage, "Blowing Rock Memories." According to Gage's recollection, Mayview was named by artist Elliott Dangerfield for his first wife. 10. Ernestine may thus have attracted the eye of Mayview developer Walter Alexander; she later became his wife: ibid. 11. Thomas Hugh Spence, Jr., An Annotated Autobiography (Montreat, NC: For Private Distribution, 1981). p. 39. Hereinafter cited as Spence, A u to biography. 12. William C. Cannon of Concord, who has summered at Blowing Rock since he was a year old (he was born in 1913) recalls that his family's place, now owned by his sister and her husband, Mariam and Bob Hayes, across from the Green Park Inn, had its own electric generator and water supply, a tank in the attic supplied from a spring which had to be filled every day. Oral interview, January 1987. See also Vardell-Gage, "Blowing Rock Memories," section titled "Utilities." Rumple Church seems to have been wired for electricity in late �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 91 1923; the first record in Holshouser's accounts of a bill "for electric lights," in the amount of $6, was paid in November of that year. RMPC Session Records, old book, p. 115. 13. Ina Woestmeyer Van Noppen and John J. Van Noppen, Western North Carolina Since the Civil War (Boone, NC: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1973), pp. 110-111, citing Alfred Mordecai, "James Edwin Brooks, M.D." (North Carolina Medical Journal [June, 1958]). 14. Letter, M. E. Weedon to Bessie Tufts, 4.20.23., kindly provided to the author by Margaret Tufts Neal. 15. Spence, Autobiography, pp. 39-42. 16. The name of the settlement is spelled alternately ShulTs Mill, Shulls Mills, and ShulFs Mills in various accounts. It seems the church, when it was registered in Presbytery, was called the Shulls Mills Presbyterian Church. 17. Ministerial Directory, 1940 edition. Neal, Sacred Flame, p. 78. Hayes, "An Account," pp. 71-73. The Shulls Mills Church was organized October 10,1919, with eleven charter members; W. S. Whiting and C. D. Fox were elected and installed as elders: Minutes of Holston Presbytery, fall 1920 meeting. 18. Tindall, Emergence of the New South, pp. 326-330. Kate Peterson, "Boone Fork Institute," Watauga County Times... past (September 1984), pp. 2-5. 19. Hayes, "An Account," p. 73. 20. RMPC Session Records, pp. 20-23; Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1925 and fall 1925. The Rev. Christopher McCoy Franklin, a Crossnore natve, was "president and co-founder" of the Crossnore School and pastor of the Crossnore Presbyterian Church, 1920-1933; Ministerial Directory, 1975 ed. 21. Neal, Sacred Flame, p. 116-117; and oral interviews with Jo Greene, July 1987, and William Cannon, January 1987. The Cannon home was next door to the Knoxes, across from the Green Park Inn. Cannon remembers the Knox sisters as "wonderful neighbors" and loyal Presbyterians; they always kept his family informed as to who was preaching each week at the church. None of the sisters ever married; the story went that their father never found any man worthy enough for them. 22. In 1921 a Sunday school room had been added at the rear of the church, with $450 borrowed from Lees-McRae Institute. No picture or description of this room has survived. It was removed during the construction of the chapel wing in 1936: RMPC session records, p. 18. 23. RMPC, Session Minutes, Book I; Martin, "1936 History," p. 6. Hibbs also designed the new Maxwell B. Chambers building at Davidson during this period. In 1929 he received gold medals for his church and college building architecture at the Southern Exhibit in Memphis: Who's Who in America, 1948-49 edition. 24. Vardell-Gage, "Blowing Rock Memories." �92 / Chapter Three 25. Interview with Rudolph Greene, December 1986. Greene recalled that while he and Coffey were working on the project, Rev. Blake Brinkerhoff drove by the church and saw the work in progress, but did not notice Coffey, who was working inside. The next Sunday in church the preacher told the congregation what a great job Greene had done, not acknowledging Coffey. Greene remembered he "felt like falling through the floor," but Coffey "got a kick out of it." 26. The Manual of Abingdon Presbytery charged the home missions committee "To have the oversight of mission schools, the superintendent visiting the schools and examining the pupils on their Bible course ... [and] to guarantee the salaries of all workers, seeing that as much as possible is raised in the field, and the balance paid from our treasury." Presumably Holston Presbytery had similar arrangements: Edward Marshall Craig, comp. and ed., Highways and Byways of Appalachia: A Study of the Work of the Synod ofAppalachia of the Presbyterian Church in the United States (Kingsport, TN: Kingsport Press, 1927), p. 31. 27. Ibid., p. 47. 28. Peterson, "Boone Fork Institute," pp. 3-4. 29. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, fall 1921 meeting. 30. Ministerial Directory, 1956 edition; information on his death from Watauga County Register of Deeds Office. 31. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1929 meeting. 32. Ernest Trice Thompson, Presbyterian Missions in the Southern United States (Richmond: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1934), p. 239 and passim. 33. Tilden Scherer, "King College," in Highways and Byways, pp. 101-110; quotation on pp. 108-109. Scherer had been chosen president of the college in 1911. In 1917 King moved to a new campus outside of town; in 1931 it became co-educational when mounting debts forced the closing of Stonewall Jackson College for women in Abingdon, which was consolidated with King: Thompson, Presbyterians, III, 171-173. 34. "This is Your Life," scrapbook complied by Carolyn Forrest, 1963, as a tribute to Keys at his retirement from Bee Ridge Presbyterian Church. Lent to the author by his daughter, Julia Keys Williams. 35. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1929 meeting, pp. 29-30. The section Keys prepared on "Home Mission Work in Holston Presbytery," in Highways and Byways, pp. 41-50, also touts the scenic splendors of the region; Keys asked his readers, "Would it not be both delightful and profitable for the members of our churches to visit the Home Mission work of Holston Presbytery and at the same time see the wonders of the country in which it is being carried on? Let's 'See Holston Presbytery, and the Synod of Appalachia, first.'" Keys later became one of Blowing Rock's most enthusiastic promoters of tourism: during the early 1950's he served as secretary of the town's chamber of commerce; see next chapter. �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 93 36. RMPC Session Records, pp. 30-32. Early in 1931, Mrs. Keys wrote to Presbytery gratefully acknowledging the continuation of Keys's salary through the year 1930, but told Presbytery it "had done all they had a right to expect, that there was no possibility Mr. Keys would soon be able to undertake the strenuous work of superintendent," and that the committee should seek another for the position: Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1931 meeting. 37. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1930 meeting. 38. Ibid., spring 1931 meeting. RMPC session records, old book, pp. 33-34. UTS General Catalog, p. 199. The work Tufts and McKaraher had done at Shulls Mills was a seedbed of later service: in addition to Smith, another summer field worker, the Rev. John Yelton, would go on to hold important posts in Holston Presbytery. Still another who worked there during the 1920's was R. H. Hardin, M.D., whom Whiting had hired to provide medical care for his employees. In 1925 Hardin moved with his family to Banner Elk, where he became a permanent member of the staff at Grace Hospital: Neal, Sacred Flame, pp. 148-150. 39. RMPC Session Records, Book I, pp. 24-27. Perhaps as a way of learning the church's history, Buchanan in 1932 copied in his own hand all the earlier session minutes into a new book. Comparison with the original records shows he made a few errors; to this point I have cited the original records. His installation: Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1932 meeting, p. 12. His service: Ministerial Directory, 1983 edition, and "A Reflective Autobiographical Sketch of the Life and Ministry in the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. of Grundy Sexton Buchanan," in WOC History of Sinking Springs Presbyterian Church, Hot Springs, Va., for 1971, at Historical Foundation, Montreat. Buchanan later called his ministry at Blowing Rock "a most happy" one. In addition to the building of the manse and educational building, he recalled that "the foundation for a church was laid in the nearby town of Boone" during his time. 40. RMPC, Session Records, Book I, pp. 38-39. The Rev. Martin held another series of services in late November, 1935; fifteen additional members were added at that time. Most were descendants of the various families who by now were making up much of the local membership: Greenes, Walsers, Whites. 41. Ibid., p. 34. Excerpts from statistical tables in Minutes of General Assembly of PCUS, prepared for the church March 13, 1933 by Historical Foundation, Montreat, N.C.; in RMPC records. 42. "Little Stone Presbyterian Church At Blowing Rock Attracts Visitors," Watauga Democrat, June 1, 1933, p. 3. The article by Arnold Coffey gave a short history of the church, used a picture of Dr. Vance as illustration, and listed the entire fifty-seven person membership. Jim O'Dell, ASU graduate student and son of former elder Jim O'Dell, kindly supplied this reference. 43. The building of the manse necessitated moving some grave markers which had stood on the church's south side, presumably dating from the congregation's earliest days. Old photographs show a few headstones on the site; these were apparently put under the stone church at this time. �94 / Chapter Three 44. "Bible Conference," pamphlet for August 6-11, 1933, services, in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 45. RMPC Session Records, new book, p. 57. 46. Ibid., pp. 61-62. 47. Church Bulletin, July 26,1936; original preserved in Perry Lentz's family, copies in church records. 48. 1936 History," p. 8; "Mary Campbell Warfield Was Dedicated Doctor of 1930-1946," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 21. Much of Dr. Warfield's work must have been done at virtual charity rates. Rudolph Greene recalls that once when he received a leg injury on his job with the telephone company, Dr. Warfield dressed his wound and treated him for thirty cents — and that included the cost of the bandage: oral interview, December 1986. 49. Perhaps because VardeU and Martin were summer people, they knew little of the women's work; it would be uncharitable to think they considered it unimportant, especially as Vardell's school, Flora MacDonald, considered one of its major functions to be the training of young women for the life of Christian service, whether at home or in the church. 50. Minutes of Stated Meeting of Concord Presbytery, September 1906, p. 195. 51. For the denomination's WOC activity and its attitude toward women generally in this era see Thompson, Presbyterians, III, 384-402: Southern Presbyterian women were slow to organize, compared to other Protestant groups in the United States, and they encountered some opposition from conservatives within the church; a denominational Women's Auxiliary can be dated to 1912. From 1922, the tenth anniversary of the organization, a "birthday gift" offering was authorized each year to be raised by the women for one of the church's many worthy causes at home or abroad. By 1959 "the total of 38 birthday gift offerings was in excess of three and a half million dollars. The abiding value of these gifts, for a wide variety of projects, often imaginatively conceived, is beyond estimation." Ibid., p. 393. 52. "History of the Woman's Auxiliary of Blowing Rock Presbyterian Church," historical sketch to 1937 written by Mrs. H. F. Ingle; at Historical Foundation, Montreat. The WOC histories for RMPC, and other churches in the denomination, are an important local history source at the Foundation. A rare honor is to be chosen "Honorary Life Member" of the WOC; since its founding only eight have been so designated: Alma Robbins, Mary White, Sarah Payne, Ethel Burns, Alice Lentz, Mabel Holshouser, Merle Weakley, and Mary Smith. Information supplied by Mary Smith and Bernie Greene, November 1987. 53. So, too, were the barriers overcome between employer and employee: in the Cannons' employ for many years were Wade and Jeba Klutz, who came with them each summer to Blowing Rock; the couple participated actively at Rumple Church, frequently assisted Mrs. Cannon with her "scene-o-felt" lessons, and took part in all sorts of community activities. A close friend recalls that Wade Klutz had been hired by Joe Cannon to look after his wife and her �From Mission to Mainstream, 1923-1940 / 95 business affairs sometime in the early 1930's. Klutz, originally from near Salisbury, had been an automobile dealer in Charlotte when Cannon met him. The Klutzes accompanied the Cannons on their annual trips from Concord to Blowing Rock to Pass-a-griUe, Florida, where they later had a winter home. Oral interview with Jo Greene, July 1987. See also "Mrs. Cannon's Work Long Remembered," The Blowing Rocket, special edition, p. 28. 54. Oral interview with church member Gladys Tester, daughter of L. D. and Martha Tester, December 1987. 55. Interview with Jo Greene, July 1987; as someone very close to the Cannon family —she practically raised Annie Cannon's grandson, Zack Tate—Jo Greene was in a position to hear many of the family stories which have been passed on about the Joseph Cannons. No record remains locally of the cost of the 1936 project. 56. RMPC Session Records, Book I, pp. 74-77. For the Browns: entries for December 1, 1935, and December 11, 1938, pp. 65, 101. Brown was elected deacon in April, 1936, serving until he was "reluctantly granted" his letter to the Jefferson church: ibid,, Register of Deacons. 57. Oral interview with Rudolph Greene, January 1987. 58. "1936 Church History," p. 4. 59. RMPC Session Records, Book I, p. 77. 60. Ibid., p. 89. 61. Ibid., p. 102. 62. Ibid,, p. 31. 63. Ibid,, p. 31. 64. Ibid., p. 40. 65. Ibid., p. 60. After that summer R. A. Dunn wrote his "personal appreciations for the way the church provided religious worship for the colored servants during summer. Also a check [was] presented for church expenses to the amt of $25.00. The clerk was ordered to acknowledge by letter the same." Ibid., p. 63. For more on Dunn, see chapter five. 66. Ibid., pp. 104-107. 67. Ibid., pp. 109-114. Ministerial Directory, 1986 edition, and Neal, Sacred Flame, p. 78. �This page intentionally left blank �trr^gg ;:s=p> Main Street, Blowing Rock, in the 1890's. The first church structure is visible through the trees on the left in this, the only known photograph extant of it. �The Rev. Jethro Rumple, D. D. The Rev. C. A. Munroe, pastor of the Lenoir Church and chairman of the home missions committee of Concord Presbytery. This picture must have been taken about the time he was active in the establishment of the Blowing Rock Church. �The Rev. Dr. James I. Vance, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Nashville, summered in Blowing Rock beginning about 1900, preaching often and powerfully at Rumple Church, His eloquence helped bring in the funds which made possible the building of the stone church and the congregation's support of Grandfather Home for some twenty years until his death in 1939. The Rev. Dr. Charles G. Vardell, first president of Flora Macdonald College in Red Springs, labored energetically on the stone church building project along with his brother-in-law, Dr. William J. Martin. His fundraising abilities were extended for years on behalf of Tufts's work in Banner Elk. Dr. William J. Martin, son of Col. William J. Martin of Davidson College. Dr. Martin, president of Davidson, 1912-1929, summered in Blowing Rock most of his life and designed the present stone sanctuary in 1905-6. "The Drs. Sloop," Mary Martin and Eustace H., in the early 1950's. Their 1908 wedding may have been the first in the stone sanctuary, which had been designed by Mrs. Sloop's brother. They devoted their adult years to medical and educational work in Crossnore. �^ ^* ^ ^ O*^ ^%^^^t^^^^>C^ <?<**M--C j^^^^*— &~~]jf frr&***~~fr~*~ &~&sl^£. ^^t^^^^^^L^^L^^ . '^f^l^&^l^ ^- f /fV ^.. • ^ ^CX • * ' ^ * ' • ^ / I / jT . ^ . ^ '. '-./?" ^ ^ 4<^<e^^<^^^ . "• \*:^e^t^*:' '(^^^^^ A letter in Dr. Rumple's hand, written from Blowing Rock to one of his Salisbury parishioners at the time of Rumple's wife's death. Photocopy of original at First Presbyterian Church, Salisbury, NC. �^ir^^-^^'T^^-ty^- ^^^^^^^%^?^'^/^^ >^TM^~ 1?c *>^&<y3s jg&wx?'^ -^^ -^^7ty*?2' '^^ ^ -^o^^^^'^^^ ^ t ^ 7^"%r^ *y t " �Rose Young McDade, sister of Hattie Young Brown, poses beside the rock church, about 1922, when she was twenty-two, and an organizer and teacher of Children's Day programs at Rumple Church. Reproduced from a postcard; the church was a popular backdrop for photographs for many years. Courtesy of Mrs. Brown. �Skyland Inn Here's a house founded on a rock, Forming a terrace overlooking The View, Where lovely vista is visualized, And Dreamland seems to be true. The grounds are just as they were created, With rocks of peculiar forms, Rhodendron and azaleas in gorgeous splendor, And trees that have braved many storms. A page from a pamphlet on Blowing Rock, published in the mid-1920's. Mrs. Emma R. Stewart, who first promoted the cause of building the church, ran the Skyland Inn for many years. Much altered, it is today the Farm House Restaurant. Pamphlet (cover is missing) from the VardellMcNett family records, courtesy of Linda M. Yarnell. �On the steps of the Vardell family summer residence, on Chestnut Hill, Blowing Rock, summer 1926: a photograph remarkable for its many Presbyterians. Back row: Jennie Rumple Martin, Dr. William J. Martin, Edward H. Williamson, Dr. Alexander Sprunt II, Katherine Vardell Williamson, Mrs. Alexander Sprunt II, Charles G. Vardell holding Libby V. McNett, Linda Lee Rumple Vardell, Ruth Vardell Gage; center row: James Murray, Elizabeth Vardell McNett, Charles Gildersleeve Vardell, Kitty Martin, Kitty Williamson, Vardell Williamson, Mary Linda Vardell (later Mrs. Ellison Smyth); front: Jane Dickson Vardell Murray, Eleanor Vardell Sprunt holding "Margita" Vardell, Edwin Holt Williamson, Eloise Martin Currie, Margaret Vardell Sprunt, Dr. Armand L. Currie, Alexander Sprunt III. Dog is unidentified! Photo courtesy of Linda McNett Yarnell, with additional identifications provided by Mary Linda Vardell Smyth. �FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY of the c 1 Blowin£> (R,ock Presbyteriaii Quireh B L O W I N G ROCK, N. C. Rev. G, S. B u c h a n a n , 1 5 astor July 26, 25, 1936 The Session R r v . G Sexton flue'in n a n , Mi>u<:rator E. G. Umienlown I l o w a n i Klutz J. E. Holshouser Joe W h i l e \\* L. H (i Is fit/ us t»r. CHTK The "Fiftieth" Anniversary Bulletin �Mr. and Mrs. L. Dow Tester, in their yard, taken about 1940. Both were very active church members in that era. Photo by Emerson Humphrey, courtesy of their daughter, Gladys Tester. A Grandfather Home Day during World War II. In The Blowing Rocket the original caption read, "Sparkplugs of the Grandfather Home Day celebration at Blowing Rock. Left to right: Miss Anne Bryan, superintendent of the Orphanage, Rev. Dr. Walter K. Keys, pastor of the Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church where special service was held, Dr. W. T. Tate, president of Edgar Tufts Memorial Association, and the three nationally-known artists who appeared at the service, Stuart Ross, pianist, Jean Watson, contralto, and Mac Morgan, baritone. The youngsters in front are three happy orphans from the Home." �David Ovens, Charlotte merchant and Blowing Rock summer resident, sponsor of the Grandfather Home benefit concerts from 1940 to his death in 1957; from a portrait by A. P. Fox. R. A. Dunn, Charlotte banker and Blowing Rock summer resident; his endowment for the youth of Blowing Rock still supports Christian activities through the church. Photocopied from a frontispiece to a pamphlet he prepared in 1932 on the history of Charlotte's First Presbyterian Church; copy at the Presbyterian Archives, M on treat. Interior of the stone sanctuary, decorated for Christmas, 1945. Note the absence of overhead lighting. The heavy exterior door, to the left in the picture, has been replaced with an interior one since the addition of the Cannon education building. ��Mrs. Maud Ingle, first president of Rumple Memorial's Women of the Church organization. Mrs. Joseph C. (Annie Ludow) Cannon, who over the years was Rumple Church's largest single benefactor. Her "scene-o-felt" Bible Classes were widely attended and loved by Blowing Rock children from the 1940's to the early 1960's. Photo taken about 1962. Building the Cannon education wing, 1969. This photo shows the original dimensions of the 1936 chapel building, and the covered connecting passage to the stone church. It ran in The Blowing Rocket that summer with the caption, "Dreams Come True." �Rumple Memorial... "Rumple Memorial . . . Through The Years": These drawings and photos were assembled about 1980 for the first Rumple Church Pictorial Directory. (1) Artist Jerry Miller's sketch, dating from about 1980, was used on note paper and on Sunday bulletins in recent years. (2) The original porch on the stone church, before the 1928-29 remodeling; comparison with later photos shows that the remodeling was extensive. (3) A fuller view of the original stone church, issued as a hand-colored postcard during the Tufts era. Barely visible at the left are a few gravestones. (4) The church in the 1930's, showing a corner of the first manse, later used as a fellowship �Through The Years building, and a street sign erected at the Rev. Keys's urging. (5) In the 1940's, the church displayed a new sign, and the spruce tree, once a shrub, dominated the south entry. (6) By the late 1950's, a still more elaborate sign had been erected; the spruce tree had overgrown the entry. (7) Shortly after the Cannon Educational Building, visible at the left of the photo, was completed in 1970, the spruce was cut down. (8) The architects' 1969 drawing of the proposed educational building has a minor inaccuracy: it shows more of the winter chapel than was actually incorporated in the new structure. .,. . -f? If ', ' :'jj;:3i::a,t4a :,}{; J,, *:?JSS=a-t;«5»«?i 4pi>**Mi .-*wSa9P*^ ««»<«i*%*^«i a'O«\ :?'•• -"',:'*; -/- '•:*"".., -~x. SSS-'^;' ^ IT' ^c^^ftsi^pPicS?: - it' " >? * • ; * " - ^%ptf|?lt|^^! ^fiST;';::- - . f7 ;: �Centennial feat 1887-#87 J887-J905 I ! Ml ^«;:W iff £-vif-5;'ivi jLj'~t;;-fc>j| -*'* 7b oil ar0 to all to to to ail are all -its5 Blotoing Minister AM The One Hundredth Anniversary Bulletin sin. a �Of JUNE 14, IN AWO THE 1n A of the and It A In This For C. for this In this for «nd and tnd for is t In *nd ; go on thy One : ¥11 Jtff Or. flit Tht Ibt Tht 8. i . of flit of ttf : Stil of tht : of tit i . : Tht &r» Earl V, E. of ti* : U.S. of 4«d BiWt to tht 1887 , of N£. 1 Jr. of and of CIN TO 10 TIC PEW AND PASS IT TO CtC TO SIGN THE ARE PAO ON f€MT TO YOU.) of and the if of 6. 8. of N.C. �AH ON THE By V. of I ^ of th* , and your gifts to your servant -Jethro of these gifts as of churches, es o in proudly bears his THE For We of Or, as he to and Divine grace to the you for his of the THE For We and and as the w« you for his as of this you and the of up his of the of v* §011 In servant Jethro to proclaim the of Christ, in spite of the tragic toss of his and the life's companion Jennie. V/e honor You, Lord for You the vOfOoe of trust and the light of lanrt Son of his in his W€ of nfe and of were yt?o tJed zea'cooly Ov Jethro Rumple. !n and out of he spoke of Your oroeinog mercy. By life and he the life of faith for ho;: flock, POO his sincerity and seal we our THE For we you r for the inspired him to establish 8 for and to for In Barium Springs, to toe of end to further the of Union Semlnaoy In Virginia, . For his THE the for ftfi fur v* you In faith even to see the You him with the of new and until the end of his long life to the and the of the to the far we to and You, For w* you of the of the old In In �we are to Yet, we of the We his to our of his in nol that we to be so we may not be but to You his in the of this to the for the of the but of and and of Old .........Mr. .......... of Prayer.................................................... 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A, the the but to the out Its of its to the the ALL In for a be used in the next ter the the the G£ lt!E to not be to all and to the to be to us for be is no of the for the of to on the of to the of the Or. and to to of ' MH of the of THE roay All us the by the us the In the for of it is a 17, be to has in the a as is not of our We to the are Or. Is be a afon �and of Mr. in the H. §f our in all of to the the and ise the and is for of be of the' §f AMY and a of by to bi if In the in the it. *M out is the MM If to of and we and OF will be by the §1 the use the if Dr. in on the Ifl iLL ME fn A by of the who In for us to to the and to 26) on i£F Ifl but she the the out to see FOR HIS of to is �.................................. .,,,,... ............................................... of of of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295-717? of the ......................... Chmn., #1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , . . . . . . . . . . , . . , . . . . ' . . . . . . . . . . #2 « . . . ............ ......................... Dot #3 Bill ....... . ........................... ........................................... ...... F, Bill f ( ........'.............................,.... ..................................... ........................................ ................................................ 1-5, Dot Lent2t Teacher................................. .......... The .....................;... I & Friday 8:30-11:3d at the Tom Gh/m,n., Bouvier, Jerry ( The Ai 7:00 PM) of OF 1987 OF ii8S OF 1989 Bill Sr., P. OF .............................................. of ( & BUI .................................................. and ...................................... ...... I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ....................................... and .............................................. by the of in and the Dr. NC Dr. the Dr. and W.J. and at the ). and the the this Is a Dr. and the of the ( ). % «,i-.i % / I ^ I Jr. of of the its G. W J, of �The Rev. Edgar Tufts, 1897-1923 (photo courtesy of M. T. Neal) The Rev. W. R. Smith, interim, 1929-1930 The Rev. G. S. Buchanan, 1931-1939 The Rev. W. K. Keys, 1940-1948, 1956-1960 The Rev. R. D. Earnest, 1948-1950 �The Rev. S. Cappel, 1950-1951 The Rev. L. T. Newland, 1951-1956 r . J<5* " The Rev. A. B. Brinkerhoff, 1960-1965 The Rev. J. R. Holshouser, 1965-1973 The Rev. F. C. Collier, 1973-1978 The Rev. V. E. Hartsell, 1980- �On "Rumple Sunday," June 14, 1987, all persons in the congregation with connections to Davidson College were asked to pose with the minister; the college was celebrating its own sesquicentennial in 1987. First row, L to r.: The Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell, minister of Rumple Memorial; Rand Hartsell, his son, '86; William L. Holshouser of Banner Elk, '33; Mariam Cannon Hayes, member of Board of Trustees; William C. Cannon, Jr., '36; The Rev. L. C. Gibbs, '25; Jane Campbell, '87; Rupert Barber, professor of theater and coordinator of the college's sesquicentennial celebration; Jay May, '70, director of alumni affairs. Second row, 1. to r.: The Rev. Dr. John W. Kuykendall, '59, president of the college; the Hon. James E. Holshouser, Jr., '56, former governor of North Carolina; Allen Mast, '86, his nephew; Allen Compton, '88; Charles Fleming, '50, college director of personnel and administrative services; Rutledge Miller, MD, '39; Dr. Donald B. Saunders, '62; Prof. Emeritus and College Archivist Chalmers G. Davidson, '28. �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 BY 1940, THE YEAR Keys was called to Blowing Rock, war clouds loomed over the United States; Europe and Asia were already ablaze. Presbyterian missions abroad had been seriously disrupted. Two foreign missionaries whose work was cut short would later minister at or near Rumple Church: Leroy T. Newland and Thompson B. Southall, Jr. Both men had served in Korea. Dr. Newland spent nearly thirty years there, from 1911 to 1940; Southall returned from three years' service in 1941. Newland took the reins at Rumple later during the 1950's, while Southall was called to the Banner Elk Church upon his arrival back in the United States and served there until 1946. He was among several guest speakers at Rumple during the summer of 1941. It was also SouthalFs duty to lead the funeral service for Edgar H. Tufts, who died in June 1942 at the age of 42, and was buried alongside his father near the Banner Elk church.1 In many other ways, too, the World War II era affected the life of the larger church. Holston Presbytery had reported a decline in support for home missions between 1929 and 1941: the number of workers in the field had dropped from fifty to seventeen. "In the same period of time our income from Presbytery's Home Missions has decreased almost one half, and our work has increased about one third." But the home missions committee reported by 1941 that "more interest has been [shown] in assuming more of the financial responsibility and in local improvements" in the churches.2 Churches were temporarily less mission-oriented and more attentive to needs at home. The war was soon to bring increases in chaplaincies and in "camp" work at military bases. One who served as chaplain, and later bought a summer home in Blowing Rock and often preached in Rumple's pulpit, was the Rev. Charles Lynnwood Brown, a 1937 Davidson College graduate who fin97 �98 / Chapter Four ished his degree at Union Seminary just as the war began. He saw duty with the 82nd Airborne Division from 1942 to 1946. Rumple Church conformed in several ways to the denomination's pattern of experiences during these years. Keys came as its first pastor fully supported by the local congregation, and beneficiary of the recently completed education building. Yet his own family's lives, and those of many in his congregation, were soon to be troubled by the events abroad. Relatively little in the wartime session records reflects the losses and uncertainties the fellowship suffered through this period. To all appearances the church went from success to success. The membership numbers continued to climb, as did Sunday school enrollments and the number of infant baptisms. Blowing Rock's "baby boom" started early: the term is usually given only the generation of children born after World War II. More adults than children still were baptized during the war, however. And while gasoline was rationed and construction work on the Blue Ridge Parkway was suspended, summer people did not stop crowding into town; the session minutes for September 1942 claimed the summer had seen "the largest crowds and the largest offering in the church's history." The annual August services all through the war achieved ever higher levels of support for Grandfather Home. In August 1940 the first special Sunday service of sacred music was held, arranged by David Ovens of Charlotte; it featured the Charlotte Festival Singers, an eight-person group accompanied by Margaret Vance and two others. The next year Ovens brought "Miss Agnes David and Mr. Benny DeLoache of New York, Mr. Norman Cordon of Linville and New York, and the special Quartet made up of outstanding North Carolina singers." The performers had first sung in Banner Elk, to celebrate the opening at the Home of a new administration building, made possible by a gift from the Joseph Cannons. When they also successfully appeared at Blowing Rock, a tradition was begun which lasted more than twenty-five years. Beginning after 1945, the sacred music concerts became linked to the annual Grandfather Home offering at Rumple Church; but for the war years they were held to augment the church's own receipts, at "Home Church Day" services.3 Yet the records do show that periodically the war's turmoil on distant shores touched the small mountaintop community. In August 1942, Mr. and Mrs. Wade Klutz, longtime employees of the Joseph Cannons, transferred their memberships to Rumple Church, as did their son, Sgt. John Allen Klutz. He is the first individual of military rank to be mentioned as joining the church; his brother Jacob, also a member of the armed forces, joined two years later. Other young men �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 I 99 would soon be called up for duty: they and often others in their families joined the church in which they had grown up, anticipating the separation and danger the war would bring. Among these were the young Lentz cousins, Perry and William Lewis, and Lewis's sisters, Recie and Nancy. During the war years, too, the church had an unusually large number of transfers of membership, both of departing and arriving people. In 1943, "It was unanimously ordered that the annual Every Member Canvass be made by letter inasmuch as such a large percentage of the membership are away from home." Among the many arrivals of the period were Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Brown and several members of their family; among the departures, Mr. and Mrs. William Holshouser, Jr., dismissed to the Church of the Pilgrims, in Washington, B.C. Some sort of record must have been set by Mrs. Lyles Harris when she joined the church: "inasmuch as her present membership is in the Church of England in the British Isles, she was received on statement of her continuing faith and her desire to bring her membership here. She was received into full communion and fellowship of the church" in March 1944.4 Also in 1944, the session voted special sums to presbytery on behalf of "Defense Service" and the Home Mission Emergency Fund. That same year requests came in on behalf of three service members overseas to be enrolled in the church: Jule Welch Tate, Cecil Ray Critcher, and Grover Clifford Walters. By the time the request from Tate's chaplain to this effect had arrived, Tate was dead; he had lost his life in the Mediterranean theater. "By unanimous consent he was enrolled posthumously on the rolls of the church. The other two candidates . . . were received . . . pending the ordinance of baptism." When hostilities ended, both these men did indeed receive baptism and took their places in the Rumple congregation. Another new member was serviceman James M. Critcher. Others who joined had seen their lives forever touched by the war: among these during 1945 were Pauline Castle Stone, and her daughter, Donna, who joined the fellowship and were baptized. "Mrs. Stone's husband, Sgt. Harold Stone, was killed while on a bombing flight over Germany."5 During these years the session periodically voted Keys a few extra dollars to cover postage expenses: he sent out monthly newsletters from the church to every service member from Blowing Rock, whatever his denomination and however remote his duty station. Many of the war's survivors came back remembering this kindness and the link Keys had provided to loved ones back home. Some have saved these bulletins to this day.6 The pastor filled them with trivia about Blowing �100 / Chapter Four Rock's erratic weather, results of ball games at the high school, news of weddings and of the boys who had returned home on leave, his own success at the local fishing streams; he also gave assurance that all service members were being remembered in prayer by folks at the church. He sent on the addresses of all who served and whatever news he had received from them, so that a network of information tied them together around the globe. Keys's own two sons, Bill and Tommy, saw active duty, as did his daughter Julia's husband, Blowing Rock native Bill Williams; "her Ta'" had married them in March, 1944, he proudly told the boys at Easter of that year.7 Perhaps as a way of keeping his mind off the dangers his own loved ones were facing, Keys threw himself into many civic and community affairs. When the mathematics teacher at the high school was called into the Navy, the pastor, a former teacher himself, pinch hit for him. He served on the Watauga County War Ration Board. He pushed hard for the creation of a town park; in 1944 he reported to the servicemen that a special referendum had been called to vote on a bond issue to purchase the Coffey property [site of the old Watauga Hotel] for the establishment of a Memorial Recreation Park in honor of all you folks to whom this letter is being written. There is some opposition but we think it will be approved. We know that you would rather have such a park, equipped for bowling, swimming, tennis, shuffle-board, boating and many other sports than to have a marble shaft reaching to the skies erected on Main Street. Keys was surely right, even if his vision for the park proved to be bigger than its realization. The park would not be finished until 1950, but it is in many ways a legacy of Keys's energy, the love he felt for his adopted home, and his dedication to a parish which for the war years, at least, was worldwide.8 The church continued to observe its "usual summer program," which for Keys as for his predecessors meant, besides Grandfather Home Sunday, the frequent appearance of outside preachers. By the early 1940's, though, many of the pulpit veterans who had often assisted in days past were gone. James I. Vance died in Blowing Rock on November 24, 1939, at the age of seventy-seven; his body was returned to Nashville for burial. According to a tribute in the Christian Observer, Vance "had an understanding with his church [in Nashville] that he would spend a portion of each year in evangelistic work. And this he did as long as he was physically able. It is significant to note that his physical collapse came during one of these meetings."9 During Vance's �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 101 final summer in the mountains, he asked to preach at a tiny Baptist church in the Mulberry community not far from Blowing Rock, because he wanted a last chance to speak from a small country pulpit of the sort in which he had first begun his ministry.10 Ever a man of peace, Vance was deeply grieved at the outbreak of another world war. One of his last responsibilities to the Presbyterian Church, U. S., was to represent it once again on a Permanent Committee of Protestant Relief in Europe, just as he had after the First War. His daughter, Margaret, was treasurer of this committee.11 After his death, Margaret Vance and her mother moved more or less permanently to Blowing Rock, where the preacher's widow died in December of 1945. For another twenty-eight years "Miss Margaret" played the organ at Rumple Church, and took an active community role. No longer just a summer resident, she had become a "transplant." So another generation of the Vance family continued to support the work of the church. In 1940, members of Vance's family and others contributed a stained-glass window, depicting Christ the Good Shepherd, to Rumple Church in Vance's memory. Then in September, 1943, Dr. William J. Martin died, at age seventyfive, and was buried beside his parents in the old Davidson College cemetery. He had spent most of his retirement years in Davidson after leaving the presidency of the General Assembly's Training School in 1933.12 To Martin, at the time he retired from the presidency of the college in 1929, Vance had written a letter of tribute recalling their joint labors at Blowing Rock:13 We have tramped and camped together. We have slept by the streams and on the mountaintops. We have been thrown into the most intimate relationships with each other. We have looked down on God's great acres from the roof of the world, and we have toiled side by side to build for Him and for His cause a little house where we both have spent many a Sunday in the worship of a Divinity that is real. Through all this, I have learned to love you as a brother, and my wishes now for you and yours are only such as come from a friend. It had been both men's unshakable faith that they would one day "look down on God's great acres" from a still higher vantage point; now their friendship had been renewed in the presence of their Lord. Another who joined "the church at rest" during these years was elder and clerk of session William L. Holshouser. A tribute In Memoriam appeared in the church bulletin after his death: �102 / Chapter Four In the passing of Mr. W. L. Holshouser each of us as individuals and our church as an organization has lost a great and true friend. For fifty years he was a merchant in Blowing Rock and a friend to all who were in need. For thirty years he was an elder in our church and deeply interested in its welfare. Only in the records of heaven could one discover all the good deeds of his life; for he was not disposed to publish them to the world. Faithful, honest, kind, just, devoted to his family, his friends, and his church, he was in the rarest and truest sense a GOOD MAN —a man after God's own heart. His going away has left a vacant pew in our church... and a vacant place in our hearts that only God can fill. . . ,14 The old enemy which was causing so much loss around the world had also claimed three of Rumple church's faithful "founding fathers." But coming out of the world's trial would be a new generation who over the next years would help to fill the gap with renewed energy and vigor. During Keys's first pastorate new additions were made to the session who served the church for several years — although their terms of service could not match those of the original members. L. D. Tester was elected elder in 1941; Howard P. Holshouser and Richard Oxentine were added in 1943; and John P. Lyon, a new resident who, with his wife, had transferred their membership from the Presbyterian church at Burnsville, was elected in 1946. The diaconate, too, was increased: Collis Greene was added in 1941, Dan Klutz, Jesse Burns, Cameron Williams, and Bill Williams in 1943, and in 1946 four returning veterans: William Keys, Robert Hardin, Howard Holshouser, Jr., and Clarence Berryman. Within a short time, all these men were at work on new church projects. During 1945 "extensive improvements were made on the manse." The next year much work went into the church grounds, and a new concrete floor was laid in the stone church. A permanent committee on maintenance was established to make repairs, beginning with the slate roof, in 1946. In 1947 that committee made still another attempt to provide adequate heat to the sanctuary: the Sunday school was asked to help raise $375 for a new oil burner. In short, the church seemed increasingly supplied with workers and with enthusiasm as it faced the postwar age. The end of the war also brought the summer visitors back in full force. For a time it must have seemed that "business as usual" had been resumed in the life of the summer community. When in September 1946 former pastor G. S. �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 103 Buchanan was invited to preach at "Rally Day" services, he must have been encouraged by the progress at his old charge.15 But all was not well with pastor Keys. In 1946 his alma mater, King College, recognized him for his mountain mission work with the honorary Doctor of Divinity degree. But the pressure of his responsibilities had for a second time strained his nerves and sapped his strength. Already by spring, 1947, his "continued illness" was of concern to the session. At a meeting in May moderated by the Rev. Roswell Long, president of Lees-McRae College, it voted to send a call to the Rev. David Baker "to serve as supply pastor for the summer months . . . during which time the regular salary shall be paid to Dr. Keys."16 Keys was back that fall to lead a session meeting which voted to receive by letter Margaret Vance, Sarah Payne of Charlotte, and Mr. and Mrs. John C. Thompson of Coral Gables, Florida, into the fellowship of the church. But in January, 1948, at a joint meeting of elders and deacons, Keys asked for a leave of absence: his physicians had advised him to spend "the hard part of the winter in Florida." He offered to return in March to "hold services and help prepare the reports for the church year" and to resign effective March 31. The session, believing that "the church is urgently in need of immediate active leadership," felt the congregation could not wait. It accepted his resignation effective March 31, 1948, "or earlier if a new pastor is secured," and conditioned his leave of absence "on the understanding that salary payments will be made only insofar as the church finances will permit and subject to approval by church officers."17 A pulpit supply and pastoral committee, consisting of Howard Holshouser, John P. Lyon, L. D. Tester, and Joe White, elders, and deacon Bob Hardin, secured various visiting ministers, including on at least one occasion the Rev. Buchanan. On February 15, a letter from Keys was read to a congregational meeting, in which he recalled the "delightful and happy associations" he had had with Rumple Church and thanked God for His "evident approval of what has been accomplished insofar as the increase in membership and in giving to all causes is concerned. No more lovely place than Blowing Rock in which to live is to be found anywhere," he asserted. But he submitted his resignation, hoping in future to find "a field of work . . . without the extremes of climatic change, and also without the unduly heavy burdens of a resort church." The congregation voted, with eight dissenters, in favor of accepting his resignation. Keys served a pulpit at the Bee Ridge Presbyterian Church, near Sarasota, Florida, from 1948 to 1950. He returned with his wife to live in Blowing Rock for much of each year �104 / Chapter Four beginning in late 1951, but by then he had left the ministry; he was recalled to Rumple in 1956.18 On March 15, 1948, the congregation called the Rev. Robert D. Earnest, then preaching in Bessemer, Alabama, to fill the vacancy left by Keys's departure; Keys returned from Florida to moderate this meeting. Earnest would receive a salary of $2875 annually, plus congregational contributions to the Ministers' Annuity Fund, moving expenses, and use of the unfurnished manse. The new minister was installed at a "delightful service" on May 2, at which the Rev. D. B. Gregory preached a sermon on "The Genius of Presbyterianism" and the "choir added to the service of worship with special music." Membership in the church stood at 190 as of April 1948; its total annual budget for 1949 was projected at $5000, plus the Grandfather Home Day offering. Among the first decisions made by the session with the new preacher were to set the date for Grandfather Home Day, and to receive another "Home Church Day" offering during the summer of 1948.19 Financial weakness still clearly plagued the church—and clouded the new minister's future. ***** The summer 1948 Grandfather Home Day drew a wider notice than usual. The Charlotte Observer Sunday column, "Captain Mecklenburg," on August 8 saluted David Ovens as "outstanding benefactor of Grandfather Orphanage because of the large amounts of money that have been raised for its support" at the programs he had helped to sponsor at Rumple since 1940.20 The collection received that day was $11,500; later ones would top even that large sum. But while the amount of the collection would be still greater in later years, it seems appropriate to describe the relationship Ovens had with Rumple Church at this point in its history, because of the impact of that relationship upon the new pastor, the Rev. Earnest, and his successors. Ovens was already one of the best known figures in North Carolina when he had Cameron Williams build a vacation home, "Pineacres," for him in Blowing Rock during the mid-1930's. A native of Canada, Ovens arrived in Charlotte after having lived in several Southern cities, in 1903. J. B. Ivey took him on as a partner in his department store a short time later. Ovens worked with three generations of the Ivey family before his death in 1957, and he helped the store grow to a sizeable regional chain. �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 105 He was a born salesman. During his early years with Ivey's his "tart comments" were a regular feature of the company's ads in the Charlotte Observer, he had a "wicked sense of humor,"21 which he turned as often on himself as on others. Working his way quickly into the Queen City's coterie of the self-styled elite, Ovens loved to poke their ribs, figuratively, for their pretentiousness and narrow-mindedness. His memoir, If This Be Treason, published in 1957, is full of clever stories about the people he knew and admired- and some he did not-who led the city he came to know so well. Ovens was a ceaseless promoter of his adopted city through channels both public and private: he was the first president of the Charlotte Chamber of Commerce, president of its Merchants Association, and in many other ways a sparkplug to Charlotte's growth for nearly half a century. His "honors and activities" take up a full page of small print in his autobiography.22 Perhaps his two favorite diversions were culture and religion, both of which Ovens was convinced needed to be nurtured by the town's business community. In Charlotte he actively encouraged the performing arts, personally seeking the backing of the city's leading citizens for everything from circus appearances to opera to theatre. When in the mid-1950's the auditorium which bears his name and the nearby coliseum were built, he received an appropriate monument, even if he did not much care for the architecture.23 And although he often called for greater ecumenism among the Christian denominations, and had a sneaking admiration for the Baptists with their "simple ritual,... profound conviction of the power of Christ to save souls, and . . . humility,"24 he remained a staunch Presbyterian. Ovens was chairman of the building committee and a generous benefactor of his home church, Myers Park Presbyterian, built in 1926, and of Charlotte's Presbyterian Hospital, completed in 1940.25 The two Southern Presbyterian colleges in Mecklenburg County, Queens and Davidson, each named buildings in tribute to his generosity to them. Such an energetic and dominant personality, and such a clever tongue, did not really relax on holiday. Ovens even had some frank things to say about his adopted summer home town:26 Blowing Rock is developing into quite a fine resort. It has a number of excellent hotels, and one, the Mayview Manor, attracts the rich because of its high prices and good food. The high prices alone would be enough to fill the house, because people like to send cards back home from a place like that. Nor did he much approve of the Blue Ridge Parkway: �106 / Chapter Four I had quite forgotten to mention the Blue Ridge Parkway, which we are all paying taxes to build. We could do very well without it, and there are very few accommodations on the route. The speed limit is definitely prescribed, and most people prefer the regular road. They are extending it this summer through the Cone Estate in Blowing Rock. As I spend some time there each summer, I go out to see the progress they are making. The speed isn't much, but the expense looks to be terrific. Since we are mortgaging our future to take care of it, we could get along without it. One wonders what Ovens would have thought of the complex and expensive Linn Cove Viaduct around Grandfather Mountain, which in the summer of 1987 completed the last link in the Parkway's route. Dr. Keys later wrote that Ovens's house overlooking the golf course in Blowing Rock was host to "the great and the near great, the talented and the famous, the rich and the poor, all [of them] thankful that they have been permitted to share in the hospitality and gracious living within [its] walls." To this house Keys had been summoned in 1940 when he first came to Rumple's pulpit: " 'Come out here NOW/ " he remembered Ovens ordering. " 1 want to talk to you/ " "The first question asked by Mr. Ovens was, " What are they paying you here?'" After Keys gave him the answer, Ovens "snorted and said, That's not enough to starve to death on decently, must [sic] less send your children to school. I'll call Luther Snyder, Bob Dunn and Charley Cannon to join me, as a Committee to see that you get a supplement to this each year/ " Ovens also wanted to know what Keys thought of Grandfather Home Day, which, Ovens said, " 1 seem to have inherited from Dr. Vance. Not that I'm worthy to have blacked Dr. Vance's boots; but somebody has to carry on.'" Keys praised the project as " 'the greatest thing any church could sponsor.'" " Then let's make it the biggest thing on the mountain,'" Ovens replied, indicating his intention to get several of "the great stars of the musical world" to perform at the church on the Home's behalf.27 Beginning in 1941, then, as we have seen, the Grandfather Home Concerts did indeed become big-time entertainment. But more than that, an ad hoc committee of summer residents had decided to supplement the preacher's admittedly-small salary, starting with Keys's. Ovens, with his sharp wit and strong personality, had begun to play a well-meant but potentially divisive role in the affairs of the church. The next pastor at Rumple turned out to be less willing to accommodate the vigorous Charlotte merchant. Robert Doggett Earnest's background was not much different from �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 107 that of his two immediate predecessors: he was a native of Chuckey, Tennessee, a small Appalachian mountain town about halfway between Johnson City and Greeneville, where he was born in 1911. The family was modestly well off, but not wealthy, and by the time Earnest was ready for college, his father thought he had accumulated enough money to see his son and a daughter through school and to have a comfortable retirement. Then came the 1929 stock market crash and the Depression. The banks failed; the elder Earnest lost his entire savings; and he was found to have terminal cancer. Young Robert Earnest first attended nearby Tusculum College, walking or catching a lift to the campus four miles from his home. In 1931 the family moved to Johnson City, so that his sister could attend East Tennessee State Teachers' College. The widowed mother rented two upstairs rooms to college students to help make ends meet. Earnest finished at King College in 1933, where for the first year his only source of income was a scholarship for playing the Sousaphone (an instrument he had never picked up before) in the college marching band. For two years after graduation he worked to help his sister finish school; then a family relation helped in turn to support the would-be ministerial student for a year's study at Columbia Bible College, in South Carolina, and at Columbia Theological Seminary, in Decatur, Georgia; here Earnest earned the B. D. degree in 1939. After a short pastorate in Decatur, where he met and married Katherine Erwin Belser, he served on the mission field in Brazil for three years, 1940 to 1943. There the first of the couple's four children was born. But Katherine Earnest's health was increasingly at risk: she had developed diabetes, and they were forced to come home. Returning first to another charge in Georgia, Earnest was called to the North Highlands Church in Bessemer, Alabama, in 1945. Two more children had by now arrived. Their youngest, a daughter, would be born during their stay at Blowing Rock. The call to Rumple Memorial must have seemed to the Tennessean an opportunity to return with his family to the region of his roots.28 Earnest's brief tenure provided him an opportunity to reorganize the Sunday school teaching staff and the Men of the Church, see alterations in the board of deacons (Doss Keller, Sr., and Rob Walser were elected in July of 1948), hold evangelistic meetings late in that year, and, in March 1949, attempt a Visitation Evangelism Program. Under this program, then in vogue throughout the denomination, the pastor was to train carefully-chosen laypersons to go two by two into local homes and "in a friendly manner . . . secure decisions for Christ and membership for the church." Across the South the program had great �108 / Chapter Four success during the late 1940's and 1950's; it seems to have gone nowhere in Blowing Rock.29 Several young people joined the church during Earnest's pastorate, but most had grown up in the Rumple congregation: Jerry and Judy Burns, Janice Coffey, David Greene, Mary Keller and Doss Keller, Jr., and Joe White and Thomas Buxton (who soon transferred to the Episcopal Church). Earnest took part in an unusual ecumenical event during the summer of 1948: he performed in a series of "religious dramas" put on by representatives of all Blowing Rock faiths "as part of a move to cultivate more dramatic interests here." According to the Blowing Rocket, a cast which included Dr. Morris Lazaron, the Rev. Oscar Harris, Bishop Thomas C. Darst, Earnest, and several local laypeople from various churches, gave a dramatic stage presentation of the Book of Judith, directed by Professor H. E. Spence and Mrs. Margaret Reineking. "Such an enthusiastic reception was given [this drama] which was presented in the Baptist Church that it was decided to hold another." The second play, "The Sacrifice of Isaac," was "selected from Dr. H. E. Spence's book, Old Testament Dramas" and was given at Rumple church accompanied by "a suitable program of music and worship." Besides cultivating "dramatic interests," Earnest may have thought to hit upon a way to draw a crowd to Sunday evening worship service. The experiment seems to have been called off after a few weeks, however.30 Earnest also discovered upon his arrival in Blowing Rock that he and Margaret Vance were distant cousins, through his mother's family. He furthered his musical interests by getting "Miss Margaret" to give him organ lessons on the Rumple instrument. But if the new pastor was enjoying some of the opportunities which serving a resort church had to offer, some of its other features were not to his liking. The little town of Blowing Rock was growing in the postwar years. Earnest recalled one of his pastoral tasks as helping in the "recovery of people from the ravages of the war." More money was in town by this time. Links to the larger North Carolina tourist industry were becoming more extensive. The highway 321 bypass around the east side of town was under construction, Earnest remembered, during his years in Blowing Rock; and as more visitors than ever flocked to the town, the inevitable growing pains, perhaps not yet eased in the village, began to have their effect. By 1948, national Prohibition had been for fifteen years a memory, but it was still impossible to get a (legal) bottle of whiskey in Blowing Rock. This suited Rumple's preacher and his wife just fine, but not a lot of the summer crowd. A campaign to put an ABC store in town began that summer, and Earnest joined most of Blowing Rock's other �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 109 preachers in opposing the idea. In taking this stance. Earnest reflected what had been for more than sixty years the stated policy of the denomination. In 1891 the General Assembly had spoken out against "the traffic in intoxicating liquors as a fruitful source of abounding iniquity and misery" and had "urged its people to use all means, which might be approved by their Christian conscience and judgment to remedy this evil." Individual abstinence remained the basic position of the church for the next half-century or more.31 Some militant Presbyterians did as individuals support the work of Prohibition political parties, the Anti-Saloon League, and the Womens* Christian Temperance Union, in ridding states and communities of liquor, but the church's highest court refused to endorse the specific political remedies often brought before it for support, on grounds of the separation of church and state. During Prohibition, the General Assembly and other church courts did of course heartily favor upholding the law of the land. But after Repeal, "It gradually became clear . . . that total abstinence was no longer accepted, as it once was, as the ideal by the average church member, by officers of the church, and even by ministers."32 The denomination, with much reluctance in some synods and presbyteries, was slowly coming to the view that "there were devoted Christians who maintained that temperance, rather than abstinence, was the true Christian ideal."33 Earnest, and many others in his congregation and community, were hardly ready for such an attitude. In any event, taking a drink in private was less the issue than the threat to public morals, especially among the youth, which the open availability of liquor, it was believed, would create. The sale of alcohol in any North Carolina community long has been a fool proof issue for dividing the public and rousing emotions. In Blowing Rock the matter tended to pit many of the summer people, an increasing number of whom were not native to the state, and, less openly, a few of the local people who profited from tourism, against the mass of the churchgoing population and their preachers-and a few bootleggers who had long earned a few dollars supplying their local and out of town customers with the home made product. Blowing Rock did not approve an ABC store for another twenty-two years, in 1965. But Earnest apparently had earned few points from some of his summer parishioners for his outspoken opposition to the idea. Ovens, for example, believed that "If you want to cut down on the consumption of intoxicants in our city, it cannot be done by law, but must come about through the teaching in the home, the churches, and �110 / Chapter Four perhaps our schools and colleges as well." He was speaking in this instance of Charlotte, where, he said in his memoirs, the ABC "method of supplying the demands of the liquor drinkers is generally considered acceptable," although he regretted that "too much liquor [is] used in Charlotte" and that "such boring things as cocktail parties are becoming more common all the time." Ovens's influence in the Blowing Rock summer community was always strong. In late 1946 he had proposed to pastor Keys "a plan to build a church for the colored people who came [to Blowing Rock] during summer months as employees of summer residents." As has been shown, the black community had long worshipped Sunday nights at Rumple Church. The new project bore fruit during Earnest's pastorate: an incorporated, non-profit "Blowing Rock Community Church" was organized, with an all-white board of trustees which included Annie Cannon, Ovens, Grover C. Robbins, Mrs. Julius Cone, C. G. Beck, J. Luther Snyder, and C. H. Berryman. The trustees were to "establish and maintain suitable places for religious worship and recreation for negro people at Blowing Rock" and to "purchase, lease and otherwise dispose of all kinds of property, both real and personal" in the prosecution of their purpose.34 A building was soon erected, by local contractor Will Castle, on two acres of property off Possum Hollow Road donated in 1948. Keys later remembered that Snyder, a textile mill owner from Gastonia, was the largest contributor to the building fund.35 Equipped at first with chairs borrowed from the Horse Show grounds, the little chapel not long after was fitted with pews and walls of white pine (Mrs. Cannon reportedly insisted on the best building materials). Sometime later a community center was built on the same property, which, with kitchen facilities, became the scene of social gatherings of the black community. The building was refurbished in 1955, at which time Dr. Keys, having returned to town, was elected chairman of the board of trustees, and Howard Holshouser its secretary. The minutes of an August 1955 board meeting show that "Mrs. Cone was asked to compose a letter to be sent out to all summer home and business owners who employed colored help, soliciting contributions for repairs and maintenance." The buildings served their purpose until the dwindling number of parishioners forced them to close during the 1970's. In 1982 the church building was leased to the First Independent Baptist Church; the community center building still stood vacant as of 1987. Numerous members of the Rumple summer congregation served on the board over the years, including Gwyn Harper, Jr., Anne Snively, Kirby �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 /111 Brown, wife of the Rev. Brown, by then pastor of the White Memorial Church of Raleigh, and others. For some fifteen years after his retirement in 1960, Eugene S. Bowman, of Mocksville and Blowing Rock, an active leader among the Rumple summer crowd, preached regularly for the black congregation. He recalled in a 1968 article in The Blowing Rocket the sense which he and other whites felt, that their work provided them "a tremendous opportunity to help make right some of the things so wrong among people of different races."36 To what extent that motive prevailed when the original plan was put forward by Ovens in 1946 would now be difficult to judge, as the great divide in race relations had not been crossed before the 196(Xs. Nevertheless, the monetary generosity and the sense of responsibility exhibited by Ovens and his original collaborators, including Keys, cannot be questioned. It is perhaps significant that, although Keys was later to take an active part on the board of the Negro Community Church, and to preach there at least once each season, the board did not include Earnest, the Rumple Church pastor, when it was incorporated in 1949. Earnest recalled in 1987 that during his stay at Rumple he found it difficult to relate to the summer crowd around Ovens. He did not play golf, nor did he enjoy the country club life or attending the parties of the summer people. And, he recalled, he was rather young then; he was perhaps less tolerant, he has said, than he might be today, particularly on the sensitive issue of strong drink. It especially did not "set right" with him that summer members would personally supplement the minister's salary. When a summer resident made an exploratory approach on the subject, Earnest did not respond. The summer people, he believed, should make their contributions directly to the church treasurer.37 For this point of personal principle Earnest suffered some financial hardship. In November 1949 the session informed him "of the likelihood of the church not being able to pay his salary," $2875, in full. His subsequent efforts to "build up the treasury" from among the active membership seem to have had little effect. In January 1950, the session agreed to provide the pastor with a month's paid vacation in March, and an unpaid leave of absence for April, in order for him to complete the Master's of Theology degree at Columbia Seminary. He studied there, living with his wife's family, until he finished his work. Meanwhile he paid attention to the possibilities for changing churches. Armed with a call to a pastorate in Louisiana, he returned to Blowing Rock and at a congregational meeting in May announced his resignation, effective on or near June 1, 1950. "The congregation voted to �112 / Chapter Four receive the vote on the resignation by standing vote." By twenty-five to five it gave Earnest "a vote of confidence and protest against the pastor leaving but with the understanding also that the Presbytery would dissolve the pastoral relationship."38 For six months thereafter the pulpit was vacant. Various pastors filled in, including, during August of that year, the Rev. Oren Moore, Jr., of the McKinnon Presbyterian Church of Concord, and others. The bulletin for the Sunday Moore preached noted that the church budget was $5000, "and about two-fifths of this must be received through special contributions. This is the only way we can continue as a selfsup[porting] church and secure a resident year round pastor." Visitors were urged to contribute or make a pledge to the cause.39 Not until the very last day of December, 1950, did the congregation meet again to receive the recommendation of a pulpit committee, consisting of clerk of session J. P. Lyon, H. P. Holshouser, Sarah Payne, Margaret Vance, and C. R. Walser, to call a new pastor to Rumple Church: the Rev. Sam S. Cappel. The twenty-six year old Cappel was accepting his first pulpit call. He had in fact not yet received his degree from Columbia Theological Seminary and was not ordained by Holston Presbytery until April 1951. A native of Alexandria, Louisiana, Cappel had attended Louisiana State University and Louisiana Tech, where he received his undergraduate degree in 1948. Married that year to Mary Ann Denny, a native of Weaverville, North Carolina, Cappel and his wife eventually had three children. Cappers year at Rumple was almost too short a time to leave a lasting impact, but he is remembered in the community for his zeal on the issue of illegal alcohol. Like his predecessor, he was against it. But his crusade extended beyond the pulpit or the parlor: his frank opposition led him to carry the war straight to the perceived enemy. In that era the most notorious hangouts for moonshiners were in certain homes barely a block off Main Street, As the new preacher saw it, the openness with which the stuff was being dispensed was a community affront. Invoking the law, he helped set up a few, frustratingly ineffectual raids. The network of small town connections must have been too dense to overcome. More than a decade would still be needed to change the community's habits concerning home brew. Did Cappel realize that in taking out after the bootleggers he was only helping to provide an ultimately successful justification for moderate drinkers to seek a legal source for their booze? Cappel was as zealous for his understanding of the faith as for public morality. Although there is little in the church records to reveal his �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 113 sermon topics or his Sunday school lessons, all indicators point to a strongly conservative bent. He persuaded the session to begin again holding Sunday evening church services "after the Young People's Meeting." He urged support for a "city-wide Revival" planned for April of 1952. And he arranged a Bible Conference at Rumple Church in late August, 1951, conducted by Dr. R. A. Forrest, of the nondenominational but conservative Toccoa Falls Bible Institute in Georgia. In the short time he preached at Rumple he seems also to have run up against resistance in the session and board of deacons; clerk of session John P. Lyons, although usually in attendance at meetings, seems never to have signed the minutes; Cappel kept them himself. One elder and one deacon resigned during his pastorate, although their reasons were not recorded. By December, 1951, an uneasy relationship came to an end with CappeFs decision to take a chaplaincy in the United States Navy: the Korean War was underway and Cappel must have welcomed the black-and-white certainties of that cold war struggle turned hot. He was back in Holston Presbytery just over a year later, preaching in Tennessee, but he eventually split with the denomination and joined the strongly conservative Presbyterian Church in America.40 Cappel's departure brought another period of drift at Rumple Church. From the end of 1951 to April 1953 the session held only two recorded meetings, one to authorize a tribute in memoriam to the last of Rumple's original elders, Joe White, who died in February, 1952. In the summer of 1952, the pulpit was filled at least part of the time by the Rev. Warren Thurston, pastor of the Hendersonville Church, who served communion at Rumple in July and was given session approval to "conduct radio devotional[s]" during the weeks of August 3-9 and 17-23, 1952.41 Finally in April, 1953, with the Rev. J. K. Parker of the First Church of Boone moderating, a congregational meeting unanimously called the Rev. Leroy T. Newland from Union Point, Georgia, to fill the long-vacant pulpit, at $3600 a year plus a "sum equivalent to 7 1/2% of the salary base" into the Ministers' Annuity Fund. Newland's pastorate would run for a little more than three years. While Cappel had come to Rumple for his first pastorate, Newland came for his last. Already sixty-eight in 1953, Newland had given the most vigorous years of his ministry to the mission field at Chonju, �114 / Chapter Four Korea. There he and his wife, Sarah Louise Andrews, had reared seven children, including a son, H. Reid Newland, who also entered the Presbyterian ministry and who attended his father's installation service at Rumple to preach the sermon, on July 26, 1953. The elder Newland was born in Galva, Iowa, and was a 1908 graduate of Davidson College and of Louisville Theological Seminary, where he received the B. D. degree in 1911; he had taken furlough from his Korean work to complete a Master of Theology degree at Union Seminary in 1926. Davidson awarded him the Doctor of Divinity degree in 1933. From his return to the United States in 1940 until his call to Rumple, Dr. Newland served a group of churches in Union Point, Georgia. Among Newland's lifelong avocations was writing poetry. In 1963 he published privately an eighty-six-page book, So Rich A Crown, containing poems from his years in Korea, Georgia, and North Carolina. If his poetic language and meter were rather heavily borrowed from the King James version of the Bible, and his subject matter mostly fairly traditional, some of his poems showed an ability to speak of faith in simple but moving terms. One, "A Christian's Death," was reprinted in the notice of Newland's own death in the Christian Observer, it may originally have been composed in tribute to L. D. Tester when he died in Blowing Rock in 1953:42 And what is death? A sudden stopping of the breath That one may breathe a rarer air Where all is fair. You say he died. Can life be greater glorified Than to unclose pain-wearied eyes In Paradise? Is this the end? He has but gone to meet a Friend And, dying, found a way To endless day. Another of Newland's poems, "A Little Child's Gift," put in poetic language an unusually-imagined scene of Christmas: I wonder if a little child Saw Jesus as he lay Within a manger rude and old Upon the soft sweet hay? �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 115 I wonder if a little child Smiled back to meet his smile, And gently touched his dimpled cheek And held his hand a while? I do not know what children did In days so long ago But I can give myself to Him, Because He loves me so. Several displayed a deep love for his wife and his family, and an eloquent affection for the North Carolina mountain region in which he spent his last years. In Korea, too, he lived "in the midst of the mountains." When he later wrote a tribute to Walter Keys upon Keys's retirement from the Bee Ridge Church in Florida, Newland's prose reached poetic heights: he reminded his friend that they shared "memories of Thunder Hill Overlook with Blackberry Valley far below," and the "delicate perfume of shy, half hidden trailing arbutus sprinkled on the robe of winter as it welcomes the return of spring." He urged Keys to store up his "recollections until one day, when the purpling shadows slip into John's River Gorge and the rays of the dying sun are rekindled in the winking lights of homes hidden by the darkness and you lift your eyes to see a thoughtful sun spread a rose colored mantle over the rock hewn Grandfather who sleeps endlessly on a distant mountain top, then surrounded by the grandeur of a mountain sunset you will 'see your heavenly home and take flight.' "43 With a change of place names, Newland might well have been describing the sights from his own retirement home, at Black Mountain, where he died in 1969. Newland and his wife arrived in Blowing Rock in April, 1953. The first session meeting at which he moderated received Cecil E. Rhodes into the membership by transfer of letter from the Crab tree Baptist Church in Hendersonville; Rhodes would take an active role in the Sunday school, on the board of deacons, and later as elder, until his death. But the frequent pastoral changes and the gaps in church leadership during the preceding two years had affected the church's work. Newland's responsibility included training or retraining the church officers in their duties; stressing tithing and the every-member canvass; and arranging special services led by such preachers as the Revs. H. H. Van Cleve and William Henry Crane. At a session meeting in November 1954, "A list of men and women in the community who should be in the Church was read by Dr. Newland who urged all officers to talk with and invite them to Church." Home visitation, by the �116 / Chapter Four pastor and his wife, and church officers, was frequently invoked to stimulate church attendance. In early 1956 a series of cottage prayer meetings and early morning Bible studies was arranged in anticipation of another round of special services to be led by the Rev. Thurstonbut Thurston was forced to cancel his planned appearances when his mother became gravely ill in April. The Newlands' stress upon attendance, participation, and giving seem to have had their effect, however; where membership had declined under Cappel (during his year the roll had apparently been reviewed and some names of inactive members removed), it increased again somewhat under Newland. For 1956 the church membership was reported at 127, up from 112 in 1951; Sunday school enrollment was 89, compared to 81 five years earlier. And the budget for current expenses had increased from $2106 to $6061.44 During late 1954 the congregation met to approve unanimously a premature but significant request to Holston and Concord Presbyteries: it asked to rejoin the Synod of North Carolina and the Presbytery of Concord. On the grounds that part of the town was in Caldwell County, which was still in Concord Presbytery, and because of its highway links and the educational connections of its college-age student membership, it sought to be taken back into the presbytery of its birth. The church acknowledged "a lack of close personal interest in most of the debate carried on in [Holston] Presbytery and the plans for expanding the work" there, which primarily involved planting churches in the "fast growing cities and their environs in east Tennessee." Not until 1969 was this petition made again, and granted. Holston Presbytery disapproved of the original request; there is no evidence that Concord Presbytery discussed it in 1954.45 In February 1956 Dr. Newland informed the session of his intention to retire on June 1. He had already stayed a year beyond his seventieth birthday.45 The church, and region, although they did not know it, were poised on the brink of even greater changes. If the 1950's have been characterized as an era of national complacency in many historical accounts, the attitude may be excusable in the local case. Material growth was clearly perceptible; the generation which had fought two wars overseas was busy raising families at home and finding itself increasingly linked to a state and nation led by men proud to have built a country that was the envy of the world. It is thus perhaps not surprising that for its next pastor, Rumple Memorial decided to go with a proven leader: it recalled the Rev. Walter K. Keys. The Lord, Keys later remembered, was not through with him yet. �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 117 Notes on Chapter Four 1. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring meeting 1941, pp. 32-33; ibid., fall meeting 1941, pp. 15-16. Ministerial Directory, 1956 edition. "Blowing Rock is Grieved At Death of Edgar H. Tufts," The Blowing Rocket, June 20, 1942, p. 1. Southall later served as executive secretary of the Presbytery of Concord from 1954 to 1966, the period just before Rumple rejoined that presbytery. 2. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, spring 1941 meeting, pp. 32-33; and fall 1941 meeting, pp. 15-16. 3. RMPC Session Records, [1932-1948] pp. 117, 125; printed program for 1940 concert in RMPC Scrapbook, Volume 1. See also copies of session reports to the General Assembly for these years, in Session Records. In the summer of 1941, $3894 was raised for the work of Grandfather Home; in 1942, $4810; in 1943, $5475; in 1944, $6886; and in 1945, $7060: ibid., pp. 124, 128, 132, 136, 141. Local residents sometimes forget that the singers Ovens brought to town almost always gave concerts at Banner Elk while they were in the area. These were attended by the summer community there as well as children from the Home and students and faculty of Lees-McRae. Income received from the concerts in Banner Elk usually went to support the work of the hospital there. Ovens, never a poor salesman, made sure that the artists got to see first hand the causes for which they were working. Neal, Sacred Flame, pp. 141-147, and oral interview with M. T. Neal, summer 1986. 4. RMPC Session Records, pp. 126, 130, 131. 5. Ibid., pp. 125, 126, 130, 131. The clerk of Holston Presbytery questioned the procedure whereby a deceased person was put on the church roll; but there is no indication of any further action on the matter in the session or presbytery records: ibid., p. 135. 6. I am grateful to Perry Lentz for allowing the church to copy two such bulletin-newsletters, from Easter 1944 and Easter 1945; copies now in church records. 7. RMPC bulletin, Easter Sunday, April 9, 1944. During the summer of 1942, Julia and Billy Keys, along with Ann Coffey, edited The Blowing Rocket. 8. RMPC bulletin, Easter Sunday, April 1, 1945. 9. Christian Observer, January 17, 1940, tribute "placed by the Executive Committee of Foreign Missions." Vance served on this committee from 1895 to 1901, and chaired it from 1911 to 1937. See also obituary in New York Times, November 25, 1939, p. 17. 10. Interview with Rudolph Greene, December 1986. 11. Minutes of General Assembly and Executive Committee Reports, 1939, Appendix, pp. 103-106. 12. See obituaries, New York Times, September 8, 1943, p. 23, and Charlotte Observer, same date, second section, p. 1. �118 / Chapter Four 13. Letter, Vance to Martin, May 31, 1929, in W. J. Martin Papers, Davidson College Archives. 14. RMPC Session Records, p. 123, clipping from church bulletin. Holshouser died March 29,1942, after an illness of about two weeks. The records show he acted as clerk at session meetings until January of that year. He was seventythree. His widow, Laura, was eighty-seven at the time of her death in May 1962: clipping, The Blowing Rocket, in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 15. RMPC Session Records, pp. 119, 126, 137, 140, 143, 145. 16. Ibid., p. 145. I can find no record of a David Baker in the Ministerial Directory; was he a member of another denomination? 17. Ibid., p. 147. At presbytery that spring, when the minutes were examined, these procedures were questioned, but no indication was given that they were found irregular: "Report on minutes of the session of the Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church," inserted at ibid., p. 154. 18. Ibid., p. 149. 19. Ibid., pp. 151-157. 20. "Observer Lauds Orphanage Day," The Blowing Rocket, August 13,1948. On J. A. Parham's column, which ran from 1926 to 1951 in the Observer, see Claiborne, The Charlotte Observer, pp. 232-233. 21. Claiborne, The Charlotte Observer, p. 160. 22. David Ovens, If This Be Treason: A Look At His Town and Times (Charlotte, NC: Heritage House, 1957), p. 215 and passim. This book was published a few months before his death. See also his obituaries, New York Times, September 7, 1957, p. 19, and The Charlotte Observer, same date, p. 1A. The Observer editorialized on the next day that at age eighty-four, Ovens had "seemed ageless — a mood more than a man, a provocative spirit sprinkled with impertinence, an elfin sage with a Midas touch and a social conscience... .He was vain in the manner of men who recognize their capacities. His wit could sear as well as enchant. His bias, though limited, was often pronounced. But David Ovens added a sound, impressive sum in a time of fractional standards. . . . His contributions to Charlotte, and to his fellow man, were many and meaningful. His achievements remain as a lasting testimonial to human nobility." "David Ovens, The Books Closed," ibid., September 8, 1957, p. 2C. 23. Ovens, If This Be Treason, p. 32. 24. Ibid., pp. 51-52. 25. See Thomas F. Clark, History of Myers Park Presbyterian Church 1926-1966 (Charlotte, NC: Myers Park Presbyterian Church, 1966), passim. 26. Both quotations are in Ovens, // this Be Treason, p. 83. 27. Keys, "Reminiscences Of The House That David Built," Blowing Rock Journal, August 16, 1960, clipping in Keys Papers, Historical Foundation, Montreat. �Rumple Goes to War, 1940-1956 / 119 28. Dr. Mary Warfield drove Mrs. Earnest to North Wilkesboro for a Caesarian delivery of their fourth child, Lynn. One of their sons, Robert, is retarded; they recalled in 1987 that many church members were extremely kind to the boy and to the family during their years in town. From Blowing Rock, Earnest went to Maplewood, Louisiana; he was Stated Clerk of Louisiana Presbytery until 1957. He then became executive secretary of Augusta-Macon Presbytery, Georgia, retiring in 1974. Earnest and his wife now live year-round at a home they built in Montreat in 1957. As of this writing, he is stated supply at the Bethel Presbyterian Church outside of Waynesville, N. C., preaching twice a month. Ministerial Directory% 1983 edition, and oral interview with Earnest and his wife in Montreat, August 1987. 29. RMPC Session Records, "Book No. 2," pp. 3, 5. For the larger story: Thompson, Presbyterians, III, pp. 407-409. Earnest recalled that the session at Rumple seemed reluctant to take part in the program. It was one of the frustrations he experienced in what he felt otherwise was a pleasant pastorate in Blowing Rock: oral interview, August 1987. 30. "Baptist Church To House Coming Play" and "Second Religious Play To Be Sunday," The Blowing Rocket, July 16 and August 13, 1948. References kindly supplied by Karen Lohr. 31. Thompson, Presbyterians, III, p. 234. 32. Ibid., p. 512. 33. Ibid., p. 513. 34. "Certificate of Incorporation of Blowing Rock Negro Community Church, Incorporated," copy in RMPC papers. Other references in the following paragraphs are in the same folder. 35. Keys, "The Church and Community Center for Colored People," 1 p. typescript in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. 1. 36. Bowman, "The Community Church," The Blowing Rocket, August 29, 1968; clipping in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 37. Oral interview with Earnest, August 1987. 38. RMPC Session Records, "Book No. 2" [1948-1965], p. 8, and insert between pp. 178-179. 39. RMPC Sunday bulletin, August 27, 1950; in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. 1. 40. Ministerial Directory, 1983 edition; oral interviews with Perry Lentz and Rudolph Greene. 41. RMPC Session Records, Book 2, pp. 16-17. Thurston was pastor at Hendersonville from 1952 to 1961; he preached frequently at Rumple during the 1950's, holding a series of evangelistic meetings almost every autumn in those years. 42. Christian Observer, September 10, 1969. Gladys Tester has preserved a copy of the poem on RMPC stationery which Newland gave to her mother, "Written in memory of my dear friend L. D. Tester at the time of his death." �120 / Chapter Four But the published version, in Newland, So Rich a Crown: Poems of Faith (Atlanta: privately printed, 1963), p. 39, uses feminine pronouns. "A Little Child's Gift," ibid., p. 23. 43. Letter, Newland to Keys, "This is Your Life" scrapbook, n.d. [1963]. 44. RMPC Session Records, pp. 22-35; Minutes of the General Assembly, Statistical Reports for 1950, 1956. During 1953 the date for submitting church year statistical reports was changed from April 1 to December 31. 45. Copy of petition in RMPC Session Records, "Book 2," p. 186. Without much evidence, the author suspects that the Rev. Keys was the instigator of this request. Comparison of typed documents prepared by Keys with those from Newland's typewriter would indicate that the petition was typed in Keys's own, instantly-recognizable typing style: it shows strikeovers, absences of space between sentences, and vigorous strikes on the period key, all typical of Keys. Since by 1954 Keys was living more or less full time in Blowing Rock, it is at least possible he typed the draft version which is in the records. 46. Ibid., pp. 38-42. �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 BY THE SPRING OF 1956, Keys was sixty-three. He and his wife, Eleanor, who worked as a secretary and receptionist for Dr. Davant at the Blowing Rock Hospital, had been living in Blowing Rock for much of each year since late 1951 at the family's cottage, "the Keyhole," which they had built during his first pastorate. They attended Rumple Church regularly during this period, and, of course, were well known to most former members. Blowing Rock was home, and much of the town had taken them to its heart. Keys had found employment with the Chamber of Commerce and had directed the town's youth work. He had joined numerous civic organizations, including the Rotary Club, which he had helped to found during his earlier years in the community. In April a pulpit supply committee consisting of Mabel and Howard Holshouser, Margaret Vance, Collis Greene, and Bob Hardin, reported that its members had been in touch with Dr. Keys and obtained from him an "outline and memorandum . . . relative to plans and proposals for his present work and services he could devote to this Church as Temporary Supply." Upon approval by presbytery's Commission on the Minister and His Work, Keys was engaged to preach temporarily, beginning upon Newland's retirement. Reluctance on the part of the session was clear, however. For some, the question was whether his health would permit him to resume full time pastoral duties at the church. In August Dr. John Yelton came over from Holston Presbytery to explain that recent revisions in the Book of Church Order made it possible to engage Keys as occasional, rather than temporary supply pastor. The session so voted, without objection.1 But Keys was apparently able to dispel some doubts about his capacities during the summer. In September a congregational meeting voted 42-19 to call him full-time. When on October 1, Mr. and Mrs. 121 �122 / Chapter Five Joel McCurry gave a reception at their home in Mayview Park for the retiring minister, Newland, and his wife and for the newly-installed Keys and his wife, over a hundred people attended, "of all churches" in town and from many other places. The reception was noted in The Blowing Rocket as "the outstanding event of the 'turn-of-theseason.' "2 For at least the next three years, Keys proved able again to cope with the burdens of the resort ministry. His success was due in large part to the high quality of lay leadership he raised up and inspired at the church during this second tour of duty. Joint meetings of deacons and elders were held quarterly. Two additional elders, Wade Kluttz and Rudolph Greene, son of elder Collis Greene, and a deacon, Cecil Rhodes, had been elected in January of 1956; two more deacons, Joel C. McCurry and Thomas Wright, were chosen the following January. Regular additions were voted in each year during Keys's ministry. By June 1958, deacons Hardin and Rhodes were elected to membership on the session, and Dr. Curtis McGown, W. C. Lentz, Perry Lentz, and Robert L. S. Snyder had become deacons. All these men quickly took up important roles in the life of the church. A major task of the diaeonate all through these years was the every member canvass and the personal contact program needed to follow up pledges of support given on "Volunteer Day" Sunday each October. Perhaps the liveliest scene of lay activity during Keys's second pastorate was at the Sunday school, and especially in the men's Bible class. Former elder Rudolph Greene recalled being asked by Dr. Keys to help him get this class off its feet and make it a means of reaching men in the community who otherwise had no church affiliation. The existing class membership was divided into two teams, each headed by a "captain," which then competed for new members. The original captains, Perry Lentz remembers, were Gus Deaton and "Old Mr. Ed Love," a Gideon member who suffered from diabetes. Into the class were drawn —sometimes literally —men who had never darkened the door of any church in their lives. Even passersby on the sidewalk were urged to come in for study and fellowship. "Come on in, brother, you're welcome. This is the house of the Lord," Love would say. "I came in to get away from that big feller [Love]," at least one new member told the group. Once inside, all joined in the spirited hymn sings led by George Grove on the piano, who always "played with a little rhythm in his hymns," and heard a lesson given by Dr. Keys. Attendance soared, from a handful to, on occasion, more than fifty. Within two years, Rudolph Greene was made Sunday school superintendent, and Rhodes was president of the men's Bible class.3 Total reported Sunday school �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 123 attendance in all classes, 89 during Newland's last year, rose to 221 in Keys's. Church membership also went up remarkably during the period, from a reported 139 during Keys's first year, to 208 in 1959. The pastor obviously had found much local response. Wise in the lore of the mountains, sharing in the pleasures of hunting and fishing with many of his flock, and always exhibiting a common touch and a faith in his fellow men and women, he won the loyalty of many. The church bulletins of the later 1950's often reprinted Keys's sermons; others were collected in a pamphlet, "Meditations at Sunset," published not long before his retirement. Warm and earnest in tone, his sermons stuck close to the Scriptures and followed a numbered outline in the old-fashioned way. They invariably included an exhortation to listeners to the Lord's service which, if not of the altar-call variety, was distinctly "evangelistic." In other ways, too, Keys often sounded an old-fashioned note: by the 1950's his career had spanned the era of great growth and change in his beloved mountains. In the 1920's he had enthusiastically hailed the coming of economic development. A generation later he could reminisce fondly, in a sermon entitled "Big Business," about "the days when the village blacksmith, the dusty miller, the country merchant were the biggest business men we knew anything about." If it gave him "pause to know that the basic control in our huge defense production is so preponderently [sic] exercised by a few concerns," he nevertheless still believed that "the Biggest Business" of all was the work of Jesus, who had come "'to be about My Father's Business.' "4 Keys cooperated regularly in the inter-church work so necessary in a small town like Blowing Rock, especially during the off season. A Baptist-Presbyterian Easter sunrise service became tradition during these years. Joint Thanksgiving services would follow. And in 1958 another round of ecumenical summer programs was held at Rumple, led again by Father Spence, "Rabbi" Lazaron, Mrs. John Reiniking, and Keys. Grandfather Home Day services, always heavily attended by persons of many denominations, continued to be big items on the summer calendar of the resort community. The collection in 1958 raised $17,767 and in 1959, $18,578, the largest amount up to that time. Keys's second pastorate brought another important ecumenical legacy, a sign of the involvement of lay people and summer people in the welfare of all Christians, including the young. The "Dunn Youth" work was provided from the income which the church began receiving from a fund established by Robert A. Dunn of Charlotte to support Christian �124 / Chapter Five and recreational work among the youth of Blowing Rock. Robert A. Dunn was for many years a prominent Charlotte banker. He had first summered on the mountain in 1913, when he rented Dr. William J. Martin's cottage, "Chestnut Knoll." At that time Dunn was in the wholesale drug business. He wrote Martin after that summer that he and his wife had "tucked the house in with care" and had left the key "subject to yours only" with "Mrs. Levi Crisp at the Tappen Cottage. We enjoyed our stay in your house very much. If ever the road becomes dependable I should, I think, become one of the 'regulars' there." When the roads improved, Dunn did indeed become a "regular": he purchased a sizable tract of land and built a large home across from the Green Park Inn, where he and his second wife summered every year until Dunn's death in 1945. Dunn was an Alabama native of North Carolina stock whose Presbyterian faith expressed itself in service all his adult Hfe. He was an elder and taught a young men's Bible class at First Presbyterian Church in Charlotte for many years. Davidson virtually adopted him. Although he had earned no degree from any college, it awarded him an honorary Doctor of Laws in 1925, selected him for its Board of Trustees in 1929, and made him the board's president emeritus in 1940. In 1931 he was elected Moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, U.S., the third prominent Blowing Rock summer resident and Rumple communicant to hold this high office.5 Upon the death of Dunn's wife, the legacy he had established in his estate began providing income for "Christian work among the youth of Blowing Rock, North Carolina." Under the will's provisions, five percent of his estate went to the Trustees of the General Assembly and to the Presbyterian Foundation of Charlotte, for such work, either in the form of a Young Men's Christian Association (Dunn's cousin, Lex Kluttz, was at the time secretary of the Charlotte YMCA), or, if no YMCA existed in Blowing Rock, "said funds shall be used through the . . . Presbyterian Church at Blowing Rock and/or the Board of Home Missions of the Presbytery of which said Church may be a part." The Rev. Mr. Keys was to have care and supervision of the work, according to the original terms. Dunn also left another five percent of his estate "for Christian work among the negro youth of Charlotte," to be administered through the YMCA there. It was his "desire that [the work in both places] shall include Bible study and instructions in Christian doctrine and belief, as well as provision for gymnasium indoor sports and outdoor sports, so that the mind, the body, and the spirit may all be developed in accordance with Christian doctrines." Since the inception of the "Dunn Youth" work, countless projects �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 125 have been undertaken, almost always with ecumenical backing among the town's churches, for projects meeting Dunn's original specifications. The fund has made possible a small salary for a part-time "Dunn Youth Worker," and has been used to send children to church camps, buy sporting equipment, and fund nursery school projects, to help with the costs of special scouting programs, rent films, and hold seasonal celebrations. That Keys's ties to Dunn, going back to his first pastorate, had much to do with getting the fund established, is clear. It was a gesture on both their parts which has touched numerous young lives and hearts. Local congregational needs were by the late 1950's also becoming apparent. In August, 1958, the session discussed buying or building a new manse, and using the older house as additional space for educational activities. A committee consisting of Bob Hardin, Curtis McGown, Dan Kluttz, Bill Lentz, and Howard Holshouser recommended that "an effort be made to solicit gifts and pledges toward a goal of $25,000 for a new manse," no doubt from among the usual local and summer supporters.6 In May, 1959, "a suggestion for new lighting in Chapel & placing shutters on the windows to control outside light was presented by Dr. Keys for further study," but not acted upon. The project for a new manse was embraced, however. Bob Hardin was named to head a committee to organize the fundraising, with Bob Snyder as co-chair; other members were Bill Lentz, Mr. and Mrs. H. P. Holshouser, Sr., Jean Bolick, and Nell Greene. The session also voted to employ "regular cleaning women to clean Church and Chapel."7 Later that year Keys "went public" with his requests for improvements. It was a last request to the congregation he had twice led. He printed in the church bulletin "An Allegory by the Church," in which, assuming the persona of the church structure, he pointed out that "not more than $2500 in real cash was ever invested in my building," which had served God's cause for over a half-century. Even "my 'alter-ego,' the Chapel, . . . was provided by the liberality of one great Christian." He invoked the programs the church had housed and supported over the years: the Grandfather Home offerings, the Good News Club, the "great men of God" who had preached from its pulpit: among them, "Rumple, Vardell, Vance, Tufts, Hoey, Broughton, Hodges, Cunningham, Jones, Gutzke, and, next week, Thompson." But "to be made comfortable for my people," he wrote, some changes were necessary: "a few well-placed heaters," "good lighting," a new organ, and, in the Chapel, better lights and "shuttered screens." He also indirectly appealed for relief from his own tasks: "I need the ringing voice, the alert �126 / Chapter Five step, the hearty handshake of a young man, called to be my minister." But, he warned from experience and from behind his thin disguise,8 1. DON'T call any man unless you make the call unanimous. 2. DON'T call any man until you have a suitable home in which he may live. 3. DON'T call any man unless you are ready to provide him with an adequate competence for living; at least the average for town and city churches. 4. DON'T call any man unless you resolve to give him your presence at church and your prayers for his strengthening. By that autumn Keys was approaching his sixty-seventh birthday. He had usually been able to get away on short vacation trips to Florida, or preach occasionally for other churches in his native region of Southwest Virginia, during his second stay at Rumple, but a certain restlessness seems to have taken him as retirement loomed. At a congregational meeting moderated by the Rev. Dr. Yelton on September 27, 1959, he read a statement announcing his intention to step down from the Rumple pulpit on the first of January of the following year. He said he intended to "ask Presbytery to give me, at least for the time being, the status of Honorably Retired with the privilege of doing evangelistic and supply work in the Presbytery and other areas." He intended to be available to his Rumple charge for supply work, and pastoral care, until a new minister was called, and, since he planned to "make Blowing Rock my latter-days home," to "be ready to help [the church] in anyway possible when needed." But he properly noted his expectation to "always be approached only through" the pastor and to consider "no church endeavors except at the invitation of the active pastor." He was, he said, in no way dissatisfied with Rumple Church or its work, but sought to do only "whatever work the Lord may have for me to do in the days ahead." By unanimous vote, with several members making regretful comments, the congregation voted to accept the resignation.9 In many ways Keys's retirement was the end of an era at Rumple Church. For nearly forty years he had been active, at presbytery and in Blowing Rock, on its behalf. Despite swings in his health and relocations to other responsibilities, he had made himself a part of the mountain resort community as perhaps no pastor has done before or since. Upon his death in 1973, he was buried at Blowing Rock, the only Rumple pastor whose remains rest among the mountains he knew and loved so well. Even more important than this earthly connection, he had put a spiritual stamp on his parishioners in the interest of his Master's cause. Several members of a generation raised under his �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 127 preaching still attend Rumple Church and remember him as one of the town's own. ***** Keys turned over the pulpit in 1960 to a representative of the younger generation, much as, nationally, the torch of government was passing to the young John F. Kennedy, the first president born in the twentieth century. If the Rev. Austin Blake Brinkerhoff was not the first Rumple pastor born in the current century, he was the first to bring a contemporary approach to much of the church's business. Yet he was building on a foundation which had been well established by his predecessors. He recalls today that he inherited a generally smoothfunctioning and harmonious organization with no major problems. His five years were, for the brand-new pastor, personally rewarding; his congregation seems to have returned the compliment. Gracious, considerate, and sensible, he made many friends in the town. He and his wife, Jacqueline Spaulding, had two sons, Charles Edward ("Brinkie," during his childhood) and Austin Blake, Jr., ("Audie"), born in Blowing Rock; a third, Louis Robert, was born in Florida during his father's present pastorate at the Highlands Presbyterian Church in Daytona Beach. Brinkerhoff, a member of the Davidson College class of 1956, entered Union Seminary in the fall of that year. Remarkably, three of the men in that entering class would one day become Rumple pastors: Brinkerhoff, the Rev. Richard Holshouser, and the Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell. Ordained and licensed in the summer of 1960 in Holston Presbytery, he moderated his first session meeting in Blowing Rock on August 2, 1960 (curiously, there is no record of the congregational meeting which must have been convened to call him). The Brinkerhoffs were to be the first residents of the new manse, already under construction. A special "Manse Day" service to raise money was held on August 28. The Farm House Singers provided the music (the first record of their appearance at the church), and, by vote of the session, Dr. Keys delivered the message. Perhaps the former pastor was picked because the project had been of such concern to him, and his fundraising talents were already known, while the new preacher was not yet a proven commodity. The plan had been sparked in 1958 when Mrs. Annie Cannon and another summer resident, Earl Searcy of Valdese, purchased two lots �128 / Chapter Five on South Wallingford Street and donated them to the church; over the next year the committee appointed to consider the matter moved slowly in planning for the new structure. "The very presence of the wooded area marked by the sign, 'site of new Presbyterian manse' struck fear in the hearts of many even as it brought hope to those who were cautiously optimistic."10 Advance pledges did not begin to meet costs, but work started in the summer of 1960. By September, builder Owen Coffey reported that an additional $7000 would be needed to finish the job. It is not clear how much had already been spent up to this time, or how much was raised from the August service at which Keys preached, although the statistical report to the General Assembly for 1960 showed that $4055 was raised that year for building expenses. Virtually all work was being done by local members: excavation, framing, plumbing, wiring, even making curtains. That fall, with full cooperation from the pastor, the elders and deacons began what was to stretch to nearly two years of fundraising effort. Chicken pie suppers were held almost monthly at the high school, with the deacons, chaired by Bruce Greene and motivated by Bob Hardin's enthusiasm for the project, doing most of the cooking. Another means of raising money was the sale of memorial plaques for the church pews; deacon Bob Snyder took charge of this part of the fundraising activity, which by the summer of 1961 had brought in some $1,500 from Sunday school and church members. Today about one-fourth of the pews bear these memorials. During 1961, after much discussion, twenty-five church members voluntarily signed bank notes for $200 each to underwrite the remainder of the building costs. No project the church had undertaken up to this time had involved so many members so directly. It was a sign of the church's maturity when, in the fall of 1961, clerk of session Rudolph Greene turned down Annie Cannon's offer to pay off the remainder of the manse obligation. She called him to her house at the end of the season and expressed her interest in the project: "I'd like to see the debt on the manse paid off," she told Greene."Do you think I should offer to the session to pay off what's left?" "No, ma'am, I don't think you should," he replied. "This is something we should do for ourselves." Greene later remembered that "she broke out in a big smile and gave me the biggest hug. And I don't believe the church was ever closer than when we were working on that project." The effort continued into 1962. By late summer, the entire note had been paid off and a grateful session held a ceremonial note-burning on the manse lawn.11 During Brinkerhoff's pastorate another national trend caught up with Blowing Rock. He and the other ministers of the county had a hand in defusing a drive to exacerbate racial tensions in the mountain �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 129 community on the part of that old instrument of hate, the Ku Klux Klan. In late 1964 the short-lived independent local newspaper The Blowing Rock Journal carried an ad inviting anyone who was a "Native-Born Loyal United States Citizen, 18 years old, a White Gentile Person of Temperate Habits, of Protestant Faith, and believe[d] in White Supremacy and Americanism" to join "THE UNITED KLANS OF AMERICA, Inc., KNIGHTS OF THE KU KLUX KLAN," which organization, readers were assured, "is absolutely Non-Subversive with no criminal accusations against it." This was a way to "FIGHT COMMUNISM," which "is being taught in some of our Public Schools and Colleges" and had "infiltrated many key Government positions. .. .Even some of our preachers are including Communist ideas in their sermons," the ad proclaimed.12 In reply, Brinkerhof f sent the paper's editor an open letter, published under the heading "Why I Oppose the KKK." He provided some local details: "On Friday, three men approached some of the merchants of our community and individuals on Main Street soliciting membership" in a new "Klavern" of the Klan to be formed in Watauga County. "Letters were mailed to members of the community, and membership cards were passed out... .Indeed, many have become active members." Brinkerhoff reviewed for his readers the history of the Klan's early post-Civil War activity, concluding that by the end of that era "Responsible men began to turn away from violence." "Today," he observed, "there is no need for the Ku Klux Klan. Responsible citizens have declined to become members of it, and only people who feel inferior themselves, or are deeply frustrated, or ignorant of what they are getting into, become members of the Klan." Even if violence was no longer the hallmark of today's Klan, he said, "its purposes are the same as before: to intimidate people by fear"; and its "foundation principle [has not] changed—racial superiority." Further, its members, by hiding behind sheets and hoods and profaning "the name of Christ by using the lighted cross as their symbol," were showing a cowardly unwillingness to assume responsibility for their actions. Striking a patrician's tone toward the end of his letter, Brinkerhoff recalled that the "stern, moral" ex-Confederate General, Nathan Bedford Forrest, when he became head of the Klan in 1868, had "openly denounced the lawless elements of the organization and ordered that the Klan be disbanded. If the general were alive today and lived in Watauga County, I suspect that he would be indignant enough to chase the hooded cowards over Grandfather Mountain." By the spring of 1965, Brinkerhoff helped mobilize the Watauga �130 / Chapter Five County Ministerial Association into opposing the Klan. Its twenty members present at a meeting on April 5 unanimously resolved: Because we believe that the relationship between the races in Watauga County is good, and that progress is steadily being made in communication and co-operation between our Negro and White communities; and Because we believe that this relationship can only be retarded by the establishment of a Klavern of the Ku Klux Klan, and other extremist groups; and Because we are unalterably opposed to communism but believe that the Ku Klux Klan is an ineffective way of fighting communism; and because as Christian ministers we feel that many of the principles, and the irresponsible actions of the Ku Klux Klan are contrary to the teachings of Christ, We hereby recommend that the citizens of Watauga County refrain from membership in the Ku Klux Klan. Brinkerhoff carried a slight variant of this resolution to the next meeting of Holston Presbytery in Kingsport, Tennessee, which commended the Ministerial Association for its "clear, courageous, [and] forthright stand" and endorsed its action. The resolution was published in the digest of Presbytery's activities prepared for all member churches and thus was widely distributed and read to boards of elders and deacons throughout the region.13 The ecumenical effort against the Klan was largely successful; few open incidents marred race relations between Watauga County's whites and its almost non-existent black population during these years of turbulence on the national scene. Rumple Church had already anticipated its own response if black worshippers sought to be seated in Rumple's congregation. In May, 1963, the session, noting that "racial demonstrations elsewhere" in the South "made it necessary to ... discuss what our church should do in the event any group of colored people should visit us," had agreed that "any person or persons wiU be treated courteously, and should be seated without special recognition."14 No one today can recall any such incident ever taking place. Although the church today has no black members, its policy with respect to courteous treatment for all, so far as is known, has never changed. The church had come a long way from sponsoring the late evening services for blacks during the 1930's and 1940's, through the "separate but (almost) equal" era of the Negro Community Church of the later 1940's to 1960's, to its present policy of open acceptance of all worshippers, of whatever race. And while race relations were the object of much anguish, individual heroism, and rapid rethinking throughout the denomination during the 1960's, the issue has lost its edge as an �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 131 object of controversy, since almost no blacks live in the county-and few, if any, summer residents bring servants, black or white, to the mountains any longer.15 The youthful Brinkerhoff faced another generational change during his pastorate as well: an alteration in the town's role as a tourist resort. By the early 1960's, many older members of the summer crowd were gone or passing away. A more sophisticated, more demanding group began to take their place in the community. For many years the "locals" had mingled freely with the summer people, both at the church and on the street; a mutual economic dependency had long existed, and a kind of personal respect had usually marked relations between the groups. When he or she needed a building contractor, an appliance, a repairman, a grocer, a gardener, or even a caddy or a groom for a horse, the summer resident had traditionally turned to some local resident, whom he or she was very likely to know personally. And, as has been shown above, when some "worthy cause" had needed support, the local leadership had for years been able to turn for help to concerned summer residents, whether to improve local sanitation, equip a hospital, raise money for an orphanage, or build a church plant. Presbyterians, indeed, had not been alone in this regard: Blowing Rock Baptists, Episcopalians, Methodists, even the few Roman Catholics and Christian Scientists, owed much, if not most, of their support to the summer residents. But times were changing. First came skiing, a new sort of "service industry," bringing a different kind of weekend tourist to the mountains —and in winter! The area now known as Appalachian Ski Mountain was first promoted as Blowing Rock Ski Mountain, and its upper slopes were by the 1960's lined with new chalets in pseudo-Swiss style for sale to short-term vacationers. The "services" they demanded were increasingly provided by middlemen, or by local people they rarely knew. Better roads, and increased affluence, were also making it possible for a new type of visitor, with different demands, to make more frequent appearances in Blowing Rock. By this time the grand old hotels were fading, if indeed they had not already been pulled down: the Green Park was acquired by the Broyhill Furniture Company and was no longer much favored by the public; Mayview Manor was abandoned, stripped of its elegant rusticity, and would soon be �132 / Chapter Five demolished for condominium development. Motels, a new national symbol of America on the move, accommodated the changed attitude toward travel: not the individuality and personal attention of a hotel and its dining room, but the anonymous and reassuring sameness of a private room and parking place, and a look-alike fast-food eatery, were all motorists seemed to want in the modern age. Blowing Rock, like many American communities, was fast becoming more a tourist stop for sightseers and less a summer resort for part-time residents. But even for those who still wished to avail themselves of a mountain resort, the definition of "exclusivity" had also come to acquire a new and more literal meaning. Typical locally of the new approach to "resort living" was the development in the 1960's, near the no-longer extant town of Shulls Mills, of Hound Ears Club, with its for-membersonly golf course, its restrictive lot sizes and building requirements, its exclusively upper middle-class clientele, and above all its gate house and gate guards. Such literal barriers symbolized the growing sense of difference between some local residents and the newer arrivals. Many of the new resort residents there and elsewhere found they could get along just fine not associating in any personal way with the "natives," while local residents came to resent, with some part of their minds, the condescending treatment, and the unthinking display of wealth, which seemed typical of so many of the new outsiders. The new "exclusivity" began to work both ways. Yet the local community, too, was changing. Many young people had benefited from improved educational opportunities of the wartime and post-war period; they shared the rising expectations of an increasingly consumer-oriented secular culture. Some were moving away to "make it" in bigger and fastergrowing cities in the piedmont or out of state. Those who stayed faced the perennial difficulty of earning an adequate living in a small, seasonal resort town. A split grew between the locals who could accommodate to, and profit from, the newer, more specialized service needs of tourism, and those who resented and feared the new climate. Brinkerhof f hit upon two solutions, one personal, the other organizational, to deal with the effects these divisions were having upon his own charge. He has recently recalled that "on Saturday nights I would go over and shoot pool in their basements with my local elders, and on Sunday mornings get up and preach from the pulpit to my millionaires."16 He did, of course, more than this for both groups. Locally, he and his wife, young themselves, took strong support roles with many of the young couples in the church, and their small children. Jackie Brinkerhoff for a time had charge of the Dunn Youth work, arranging programs for the town's youth, finding volunteers to provide them hot �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 133 dog suppers in the church fellowship building (a function filled by the old manse after 1962), chaperoning them to summer camp, and similar functions. Blake Brinkerhoff helped organize a bowling league of church men, worked to revive and lead a Boy Scout troop, and in many other ways accommodated himself to his parishioners. He repeatedly inspired them to service, both at the church and in the larger community. During this era, the Sunday school secretary, Jay W. Greene, and his wife, Bernie, took the lead in extending the annual Christmas program of the Sunday school from a simple party for the children to what has since become an annual tradition of gift-giving, exchange of Christmas treats, and a visit from Santa Claus. Brinkerhoff helped ensure that the season's spirit was extended beyond the walls of the church, when, with members of the diaconate and the session, he had baskets of food collected at the service and distributed in the community to anyone who needed such a helping hand. This "White Christmas" tradition has continued to the present.17 The pastor on several occasions urged church officers to take more active roles: for a time the "Shepherd Plan" was tried, "whereby each officer . . . would be in charge of visiting and meeting the needs of approximately seven families" in the church. Session members were asked to impress the need for infant baptism upon parents in the church who had small children. The pastor visited regularly in Sunday school, explaining the meaning and function of the church to young people looking toward full membership. He held communicants' classes, and even led a vocational guidance class; for all these efforts he drew warm praise from the leadership.18 To minimize problems between the local and summer congregations, Brinkerhoff also took to heart St. Paul's injunction, "Let all things be done decently and in good order" (I Cor. 14:40), and gave form for the first time to a Summer Residents Committee. His hope was that accommodation could be reached between the disparate, sometimes mutually-suspicious groups in his charge. Brinkerhoff s most enthusiastic and sympathetic supporter in the new organization was Eugene S. Bowman of Mocksville. Bowman is the sort of man who never met a stranger. Long a resident of the Hershey, Pennsylvania area (both children and adults remember that for years at church he always had a pocketful of chocolate kisses which he loved to pass out when introducing himself), he and his wife, Ruth, bought a vacation house in Blowing Rock in 1960. After his retirement in 1964, they spent most of every summer on the mountain; they later also wintered in Florida. Bowman, as has been noted, immediately took an interest in the activities of the black Community Church. For eighteen years, until the congregation �134 / Chapter Five had shrunk to a tiny handful, he preached there most every summer Sunday afternoon. It was a labor of love, for Bowman, a native Pennsylvanian who had cut his teeth on powerful Presbyterian preaching, was an enthusiastic, self-taught student of the Bible and of church doctrine and practice. He also took several turns teaching the men's and women's Sunday school class at Rumple during the summer. With Brinkerhoff he found at least one immediate point of agreement: however attractive Rumple Church's appearance on the outside, its interior remained barnlike and unadorned (Keys would probably have agreed, but might have put it more gently). Indeed, except for the stone pulpit and f lowerstands which had gone in when the church was built, and some English-style, electrified wall sconces, a plain communion table at the foot of the pulpit platform was the only interior decoration-although flowers and greenery often made up for the church's plainness on special occasions. Brinkerhoff and Bowman agreed that a set of table appointments would dignify and complement regular congregational worship. But while such a project was an initial point of departure for the cooperation of the two men, the larger need for a formal organization and procedure for channeling the support of the summer people was by the early 1960's glaringly apparent. The death of David Ovens in 1957 had removed one of the most dynamic, if occasionally controversial, supporters of the church's cause with the summer crowd. (Ovens's death also had, as will be shown in chapter six, an effect upon Grandfather Home Day.) It was time to draw together the remaining loyal supporters from the older generation, and forge a group which would carry on the work in unison with a new one. With a glad hand and unquenchable enthusiasm, Bowman found some nine other men whom Brinkerhoff asked in September 1962 to form a "Special Planning Committee." The name was subsequently changed to the "Summer Residents Committee" (SRC), and membership quickly grew to eighteen, with a mailing list of more than 150. It was directed to familiarize summer residents with the church's activities, to welcome and assist in ministering to them, and to offer suggestions and help in planning for and achieving the church's long range goals. In 1967 the group adopted a formal set of by-laws. Along with Howard Walker and Bill Matson, Bowman was to be its leading spirit for twenty-one years, a term of service to Rumple Memorial almost as long as Ovens's-and one which, while not always perfectly harmonious, was certainly less disruptive to the church's pastoral and budgetary activity. For where Ovens and his friends of the previous generation had concentrated on local benevolence projects like Grandfather Home and a pastoral salary supplement, which had always been �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 135 "off budget" gifts, Bowman's committee raised funds for various improvement projects at the church, and channeled them through the church treasurer. Rumple's treasurer was in fact made treasurer of the SRC. The pastor was always invited to attend, and was kept informed of every committee action. This wise and farsighted arrangement has continued to this day.19 Funds raised by the SRC freed up locally-raised monies to go to support the larger mission of the church, whose long list of benevolences by the 1960's included presbytery, synod, and General Assembly causes, some designated for specific agencies or organizations, others for more general purposes such as church extension. Thus by the end of Brinkerhoffs pastorate a congregation slightly smaller in numbers than it had been at the end of Keys's was giving somewhat more to benevolences. Meanwhile the projects of the SRC had an effect on the church's appearance and the congregation's comfort. A simple brass cross and candlestands were purchased for the communion table. New electric lanterns were hung over the seating area, providing additional illumination and complementing the increasingly English countrychurch look of the sanctuary.20 Pew cushions were purchased shortly after. And in May 1963, William W. Matson of the Summer Residents Committee appeared before the session to report "on plans for heating the stone sanctuary. The plans were wholeheartedly adopted, along with other attendant minor specifications."21 That summer a whole new heating system, and additional ductwork, was put in place. For the first time in fifty years, a satisfactory means of heating the building had been found. In 1987 local and summer resident contributors replaced that furnace. And although the smaller number of wintertime worshippers still makes it too expensive and impractical to use the main building after Thanksgiving or before Easter, fall and spring services in the stone sanctuary have been considerably more comfortable since the 1963 work. Through the years the SRC's gifts have proved enormously beneficial to the life of Rumple Church. In a February 1978 letter to Concord Presbytery, Bowman estimated that up to that date the committee's "total gifts to Rumple Church were in excess of $180,000," an amount which included some $100,000 from various individuals toward the Cannon Educational Building between 1965 and 1971. The total has grown considerably larger since then. In 1974 the committee purchased and later had paved a lot for parking at the rear of the church. Its gifts have made possible a long list of other refurbishing and maintenance projects, without which the physical plant would inevitably �136 / Chapter Five have fallen into serious disrepair: refinishing the ceiling, beams, and pews in the sanctuary; building new sidewalks; rebuilding the stone pulpit platform; replacing (more than once) the aisle carpeting; stripping and repainting the wood siding on the chapel wing; and several times making repairs to the slate roof. Some jobs the committee did with their own hands: a group spent several days one summer stuffing insulating material between the rocks in the sanctuary walls. The organ currently in use in the stone sanctuary was largely paid for by SRC donations. Summer resident Anne (Mrs. Thomas V.) Snively, Sr., to augment the seasonal music program, subsidizes individual members of the Farm House Restaurant Singers each summer to join with the Rumple choir. Her support, which began during Brinkerhoffs time, has added much to the summer services; it continues today.22 During the 1980's such projects as a vestibule for the chapel, and reroofing the Cannon Educational Building, have continued to find SRC support. Many other mundane but necessary items, such as duplicating machinery, folding chairs and tables, and choir robes, have been acquired through SRC contributions. Simply put, proper upkeep at Rumple Church, without the continued help of the summer people, would be an almost impossible burden to the permanent congregation. And because the projects have been coordinated through the church treasurer and the session, the process Brinkerhoff began has worked reasonably well to allay unwarranted interference, or resentment, between the two groups. But just as important as the material benefits which the SRC has made to Rumple Church has been the spirit in which their work was led. In his own often-eloquent but idiosyncratic style, Bowman tried in 1978 to put into words something of that spirit:23 You and I know that many things in human life bring joy; from the sense of a healthy body and the exhilaration of a sunshiny day . . . to the deep satisfaction of home and summer friends in the mountains, there ARE numberless sources of happiness. But man has always been athirst to find joy in thinking about the TOTAL meaning in life. I feel that, if when he thinks about God, he can, like the psalmist, rejoice in the future ahead of him, then all his other blessings ARE illuminated. Truly, not only are there happy things in life, but LIFE ITSELF, is, fundamentally blessed. For me, it seems that the thought of God in terms of friendly personality is the most joyful idea of him that man has ever had. Isn't man's thirst for joy one of the sources for his faith IN a personal God? Isn't this what man wants, what the Apostle Paul called "joy �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 137 and peace in believing"? And in DOING? So, let all ... believe, AND DO! Other organizational matters which were attended to during Brinkerhoff s pastorate included a changeover to the rotation system for deacons, beginning in late 1961. One-third of the board was replaced that year and each year thereafter, each new "class" serving a three year term. It is not clear from the records why the church did not apply the rotation plan at the same time to the members of the session; a system of rotation for elders, with one being replaced each year, was agreed to in 1969. This system was followed until 1977, when the church adopted the "unicameraT system of church government, in effect abolishing the diaconate by combining its responsibilities with those of the session of elders.24 Brinkerhoff also for the first time organized several standing committees to more formally involve laypersons in the life and service of the church: a Committee on Strengthening the Church, on Service, on Witness, and on Commitment. During his last year in Blowing Rock, Brinkerhoff set in motion the plans which would culminate, under his successor, in a new Sunday school building. Annie Cannon had entered her decline. She was in and out of the hospital in Blowing Rock for several months during late 1964 and early 1965. Her will, written long before, provided for Rumple if the executor-members of her family concurred. Brinkerhoff and others in the congregation kept close to her, not only for the sake of the church's future, but in gratitude for all she had already done. Brinkerhoff remembers that, although he did not always share some of her more conservative theological views, they had a deep mutual respect and shared a genuine desire to serve the same Savior. Her death, on March 10, 1965, removed one of the last links to Rumple Memorial's past. She had been born December 9, 1887, the same year as the Blowing Rock church; she had loved and taught generations of its young people; and, along with her family and many others whom she had touched, she provided for a lasting monument after her, both for the work she had done for others and for her Lord. Brinkerhoff conducted her funeral service. "Wednesday, March 10, 1965, was Easter Morn for Mrs. Annie L. Cannon," he told a crowded church. "This was the day she had achieved her victory." Her friend Nell Greene wrote in The Blowing Rocket the following week:25 "Although Mrs. Cannon lived a full, rich life for the Lord, her problems, as well as her joys, were numerous. But her problems were shared with a higher power that made them easier to bear. . . .Perhaps the most fitting tribute paid to Mrs. Cannon was the anthem sung by the choir �138 / Chapter Five at the close of her committal service. The anthem was sung at the close of each Sunday morning scene-o-felt presentation for more years than anyone can remember by the children she loved: Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in His wonderful face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of His glory and grace." ***** Brinkerhoff turned Rumple Church over to his lay committees in January, 1966, after having accepted a call to the Highland Presbyterian Church in Daytona Beach, Florida. Several preachers filled in over that winter, among them the academic dean and professor of Bible at Lees-McRae, Dr. Robert G. Newman, who in this period also supplied the pulpit at the Baird's Creek Church. But Rumple's regular operations: the Sunday school, the Men and the Women of the Church, the Dunn Youth, and others, ran on smoothly. Considerable responsibility fell upon the clerk of session, Rudolph Greene, and elder Bob Hardin, hardware store owner and mayor of Blowing Rock from 1953 to 1971, who moderated the session meetings that winter. The lay training the preceding pastors had provided was being put to the test, and succeeded. But unfortunately for Rumple's more recent experience, serious trouble lay ahead. As the sage of Proverbs knew, "pride goeth before a fall." The church as a whole had much to be proud of by the mid-1960's, and more would be accomplished during the next several years. But both the strengths and the shortcomings of the generation the church had raised up by this era would leave a legacy with which the current crop of leaders still has to contend. When he left, Brinkerhoff wrote that Rumple Memorial was a "most unique" church that "provides fine year-round opportunity for building leadership" because of its "tremendous outreach in the spring, summer, and fall" to a summer congregation containing "college presidents, vacationing ministers, townspeople, and visitors from all over the nation. Also, a very welcome characteristic of this church is its unity." He and the session in late December 1965 carefully filled out a "Church Data Form" for the Assembly's Committee on the Minister and His Work, to assist in the search process for a new pastor. As a benchmark for comparison with earlier and later summaries of the church's condition, it should be cited in some detail.26 �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 139 In 1965 the church employed a full-time pastor, at an annual salary of $4800, plus a $600 car allowance and another $600 utility allowance. It contributed on the pastor's behalf to the Minister's Annuity Fund, and provided a rent-free manse and a month's paid vacation. Others on the staff included a choir director (that year a young graduate student in music at Appalachian State Teachers' College, Tom Forrest), at $700 a year; an organist, Margaret Vance, at $480; a janitor, at $500; and a Dunn Youth Worker, at $300. Nine men made up the session; their average age was fifty-five. On average they attended eighty percent of the session meetings, and ninety-five percent of the worship services. The nine-man board of deacons averaged thirty-eight years of age, attended ninety percent of their meetings, and came to church ninety percent of the time. Of 139 active members on the roll, an average of ninety attended services in the winter; attendance in summer was estimated to average 215. Sunday evening services were no longer held, but eight to twelve persons attended a mid-week Prayer and Study Service. "Many" of the members were under age twenty, or age twenty to sixty; "few" were over sixty. Of the occupational listings given on the form, "many" were reported in the business, clerical, laborer, professional, and retired categories, "few" were farmers. A total of 117 persons were enrolled in Sunday school, sixty of whom were under age eighteen; forty-six adults, nine teachers, and two officers were indicated. Sixty women, and thirty men, were active in their respective church organizations. The church conducted Vacation Bible School, communicants' classes, church workers' conferences, and "occasionally" held a leadership training school. It hosted Scouting programs for boys and girls under twelve, and youth organizations for "Pioneers" and "Seniors." Its budget, which in 1965 totaled $13,079, was jointly prepared by the elders and deacons, and raised by "pledges and gifts"; an estimated fifteen percent of the membership tithed. All its buildings, valued at a total of $75,000, were free of debt, in "good" repair, and insured for near their estimated value. The religious education building, which dated to 1936, was considered inadequate for "present and future needs," however. The new manse was equipped "in all essentials"; parking around the church was "fair"; a volunteer choir of fifteen, an organ in "good" condition, and "sufficient pianos" for the educational plant completed the music program. The congregation sang from The Hymnbook. As for the character of the community in which the church was located, Blowing Rock was described on the form as a "Tourist" town, with "small businesses and tourist attractions" making up its leading �140 / Chapter Five industries and occupations. Its winter population was 700, the summer population, 6,000; ninety percent was estimated to be native-born white, 9.5 percent "foreign-born," and one-half percent "Negro." The townspeople's religious affiliations were put at eighty percent Protestant, five percent Roman Catholic, three percent Jewish, and twelve percent "Unchurched." Rumple Church claimed as a "special emphasis" its "ministry to tourists and summer community; special summer residents committee composed of leaders from many churches in [the] Southland." It had added five new members on profession of faith, six on transfer of membership, and two on restatement of faith in 1965. And it indicated its members were "cordial to visitors and prospective members, effective in assimilation of new members," welcomed members from various economic levels, and cooperated in all denominational programs. From this base of success, then, the congregation began its search for a replacement minister. During early 1966 two other pulpit candidates were considered before the congregation decided on May 29, at a meeting moderated by the Rev. L. B. Gibbs, executive secretary of Holston Presbytery, to call the Rev. James Richard Holshouser, then pastor of Acme Presbyterian Church at Riegelwood, North Carolina. The new pastor was provided an annual salary of $6500, of which $500 was to be considered manse expense, and $1000 as car expense; plus the now-standard contributions to the Ministerial Annuity Fund, group health insurance, and a month's paid vacation. The nominating committee introduced him to the congregation in its report as a native of Mooresville, North Carolina, a Davidson graduate, class of 1956, and a 1960 Union Seminary graduate. Holshouser had "studied for a year at a Seminary in [Montpellier,] France as an Exchange Student," and had been ordained in Wilmington Presbytery on July 31, 1960. Married to Sadie Rebecca Rigler, the new pastor and his wife had three children, Natalie, then five, Laura, three, and Andrew, two and a half months old.27 The Holshouser name, of course, was a familiar one in the community, but the new minister was only distantly related to the local Holshouser family. Richard Holshouser had been involved in denominational activities for much of his life. Even before college, he had been a leader at Presbyterian young people's conferences, and presided over the Youth Council of Concord Presbytery during his senior year of high school. He first gained experience at money-raising for worthy causes when he led the Youth Council's campaign to buy a Jeep for Presbytery's Camp Grier during 1953.28 A major achievement of Holshouser's time at Rumple Church would be to head up the raising of more than $143,000, from all �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 141 sources, for the Annie L. Cannon Memorial Education Building. It remains the most lasting physical legacy of his ministry to the church and the community. In an interview during 1987, Holshouser, who currently pastors at two churches, Clinchfield and Conley Memorial, near Marion, recalled his years at Rumple by identifying people with whom he worked, and who served the church with him during that period. But his first thoughts upon taking the job, he remembered, were of the young people of the congregation and the town of Blowing Rock. It was to the service of this group that he directed a large share of his energy. The Dunn Youth stepped up activities, led by Ginger Smith and Susie Greene, during the summers. So did the Scouts. Holshouser took student groups to summer camps in Holston and later Concord Presbyteries. Buses carried youth groups to Charlotte, to visit various interdenominational outreach programs among that city's homeless and drug-dependent. All these activities brought increased numbers of young people into contact with Rumple Church. In their interest, Holshouser focused the session's attention on the inadequacy of the church's physical plant. When the new manse had been completed, some seven years previously, the old one had been remodeled as a fellowship hall, but it could not begin to accommodate the growing number of groups needing meeting space. The lower floor of the 1936 building lacked adequate lighting and ventilation (it has since been renovated by volunteer labor with Dunn Youth and other funds from the Summer Residents Committee, and one of its rooms furnished with attractive antiques and dedicated to the memory of Mrs. Ethel Burns). For two or three years, the church arranged to lease the American Legion building for its youth activities. Meanwhile, the legacy to the church from Annie Cannon's estate, provided by her daughter, Mary Morris of Greensboro, and granddaughter, Anne Reynolds Forsyth, was drawing bank interest. Elder Howard P. Holshouser, as chairman of the building committee appointed under the previous pastor, had solicited various members and friends of the Cannon family, and had had sketches prepared for an addition somewhat smaller than the one which finally took shape. Estimates in 1965 put project costs at about $75,000, of which some $43,000 was on hand as of September, 1966. The new pastor continued to promote the project; planning moved ahead more rapidly-and became more elaborate. The architectural firm of Malcolm and Higgins, of Charlotte, was engaged in early 1967 to design a larger, threestory building. The new plans allocated space for several spacious rooms for men's, women's, and young people's Sunday school classes; a �142 / Chapter Five fellowship hall and kitchen; and a room for pre-schoolers, which would soon come to house a weekday "Good News" nursery school. The structure was designed to wrap around the south end of the winter chapel building, allowing for a new choir loft and elevated pulpit area there. It connected to the stone church as well, providing a unified plant for the first time. A new heating system served both the new wing and the old chapel, but not the stone sanctuary. The old manse was to be demolished. Consideration was given to facing the new building in stone, to match the existing sanctuary, but the idea had to be dropped as prohibitively expensive. As Holshouser recalled it, the necessary rock work would have cost as much as $100,000. Pointed arches on the exterior porch, facing the street, and a beige tone of brick, supposed to harmonize with the slate roof then on the stone sanctuary, were the only concessions to the country gothic style of the building to which the new wing was to be attached. Its flat roof was perhaps its most unfortunate feature, both from an aesthetic and practical standpoint: had the architect considered the problem of snow build-up, as did the amateurs who had designed the original stone church? Within three years the new building had to be re-roofed to stop leaks, while its energy inefficiencies became a problem when the cost of fuel oil soared after the 1973 crisis in the Middle East. Still, the plant's utility has made it a substantial asset both to the church and to the community.29 As it was, the only bid made on the project in late 1968, for $184,500, far exceeded the session's expectations. Rather than take that bid to the congregation, acceptable means of financing what had become a much more expensive undertaking than initially supposed had to be explored. After some months the congregation approved a plan to issue $120,000 in 6% bonds, but later voted to accept a conventional twenty-year loan for that amount, secured by the church property. Work began in spring 1969 by the Wilkie Construction Company of Lenoir, at a contract price of $178,000. A handsome eight-page brochure was printed to lay the plans before the resident and summer membership.30 The whole town watched the building take shape, in pictures printed in The Blowing Rocket at frequent intervals over the next two years. The paper also carried regular notices of the fundraising bake sales, bazaars, and ham suppers (one of which, in August, 1969, drew more than four hundred people) sponsored all through 1969 and 1970 by the Men and the Women of the Church. On Sunday, August 16,1970, in an impressive dedication service, the Rev. Holshouser led the con- �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 143 gregation in a "Litany for the Church" which concluded with a prayer "for God's blessing on the Church in this place: Here may the faithful find salvation, and the careless be awakened. Here may the doubting find faith, and the anxious be encouraged. Here may the tempted find help, . . . and the sorrowful comfort. Here may the weary find rest, and the strong be renewed. Here may the aged find consolation, and the young be inspired.31 After a sermon by the pastor, "Led Forth in Joy," on a text from Luke 24:44-53, several members of the congregation took part in the dedicatory: Owen Coffey, most recent chairman of the building committee, presented the keys to the building; Rudolph Greene, clerk of session, accepted them. Wayne Craig and Gail Lentz spoke on "the hope of the youth," and Mrs. Everett Widener, president of the Women of the Church, expressed that organization's gratitude. Then a "Litany of Dedication" committed both the building and congregation "to continue the vision and sacrifice of Christ's servants in our midst who have taught the Word of God in years gone by" and to "the broadening of spiritual horizons and the deepening of Christian trust, that young and old may be awakened, enlightened, and strengthened." After giving thanks "for those in our community, in our nation, and throughout the world who depend on our committed efforts," the litany also thanked God "for the numerous and far-reaching bonds with gentle, persevering Christians throughout many states who fill this church with their presence, love, and prayers during every season of the year." It was a fitting acknowledgment of the union which bound winter and summer residents in a common worship of the same Lord. Then "after they had sung an hymn [*O Zion Haste, Thy Mission High Fulfilling'], they departed."32 But the project was not over. Holshouser and the session continued to urge upon the congregation the need to pay off the building mortgage early. In November 1970, summer resident Marian (Mrs. William) Nebel offered anonymously to match contributions to the building fund by June 1, 1971, up to $45,000.33 This generosity inspired increased efforts, beginning at a Christmas season Love Feast, to pay off the remaining obligation, some $90,000, during the next several months. Another round of bake sales and suppers followed, as did behind-the-scenes prayers, and solicitations from summer residents. An "Expect a Miracle" fellowship supper was scheduled during the spring of 1971, to tally up the receipts of the previous six months and to seek redoubled giving from all present. Holshouser recalled that when the count was completed, the total was $4500 short of the �144 / Chapter Five amount needed to pay off the whole mortgage. At that point, Opal (Mrs. C. A.) Lynch, a summer resident, a Roman Catholic, who had attended the supper in the company of John Miles and Caroline Abernethy of Newton and who was interested in youth work in Blowing Rock, asked the preacher if she could give the amount in the memory of her late husband, who had been a Presbyterian. With that gift, the "miracle" had occurred.34 Not all gifts were so large, of course, but many were sacrificial. Later that same evening, Holshouser took two plates from the supper to a local couple whose families had long had ties to the church. Holshouser recalled that they gave him a $50 bill that night, to help defray the expenses of the dinner. Later a church member commented that, considering the record of hardship, sickness expense, and low levels of income in that family, such a gift was perhaps equal to $1000 from someone else. And so a major milestone had been passed. To Holshouser, and to many year-round residents, the new educational wing was a sign of the increased independence and responsibility of the local congregation. In just over two years, more than half the cost of the building had been raised locally, or at least on local initiative. The generosity of many in the summer congregation had been very important: Marian NebeFs challenge gift was the largest single benefaction the church had ever received at one time. But a few other members of the Summer Residents Committee were critical of the considerable investment the building represented. Had the church relied only on the summer residents, the project might have continued to languish many years. Once the educational building was completed, the session next authorized some $20,000 worth of repairs to the stone sanctuary and the purchase and paving of a lot for parking at the church's rear. Most of the funds came from summer residents, but the often-outspoken Holshouser made clear that the church session was the final decision-making body on all local matters. Having convinced themselves of the need, the pastor and the lay leadership were together displaying the confidence, and independent decision-making, which marked a community coming of age. ***** Another milestone of the Holshouser era was reached in July 1969, when the Presbyterian churches of Watauga County rejoined the Pres- �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 145 bytery of Concord and the Synod of North Carolina. The Synod of Appalaehia had been created in the Tufts era. A new network of ties had since strengthened the county's connections to its home state and had considerably lessened its dependency upon the inter-mountain structures which Tufts's generation had created to serve what had been perceived as a common cultural unit. Ironically, the break with the Synod of Appalachia came at about the same time the federal government was rediscovering Appalachia, and increasing amounts of attention and tax dollars were being funneled, mostly through the Appalachian Regional Commission, into the area. Church links were being cut just as political ones were being created. The idea of returning to Concord Presbytery, as has been shown above, had first been broached almost fifteen years before, and was now thoroughly restudied by Holshouser and at several joint meetings of elders and deacons. The proposal reached a formal petition stage again in October 1968, when a congregational meeting voted 49-2, with six abstentions, to ask for the transfer. The initiative may be seen as part of a general move then underway throughout the denomination to restructure presbytery and synod boundaries.35 Locally, it was linked to the concern of both the Boone and Blowing Rock churches to minister more effectively to Presbyterians in the county who, if not fulltime local residents, were from North Carolina. Two groups were singled out for mention: the students at Appalachian State University in Boone, numbering some 5500 by the late 1960's, and the tourists and summer residents of Blowing Rock. Both groups' ties were predominantly within the state; neither Holston Presbytery nor the Synod of Appalachia was making any special effort to reach them. Other significant factors supporting the move, according to the petition, were the work and commuting patterns of Rumple's membership, and the difficulties of travel within Holston Presbytery. Blowing Rock itself, since it straddled the line between Watauga and Caldwell Counties, was "surrounded on three sides by the boundary of Concord Presbytery." A chart appended to the petition showed that the farthest point in Concord Presbytery was only 115 miles by road from the town, while a corresponding point in Holston was 170 miles distant. The church "had only happy relationships" with its previous home presbytery, and did not intend by its request, it said, to complain or criticize; it simply felt isolated from the majority of Holston's "fine work... .The fast-growing cities and suburban areas of east Tennessee are properly known best by elders and ministers of Tennessee," the petition concluded. After several procedural delays, which included having to hold an �146 / Chapter Five extra congregational meeting at the B ami's Creek Church to meet fully the letter of the Book of Church Order,m the three churches in Watauga County were officially dismissed to the Synod of North Carolina in July, 1969. Nothing perceptible happened locally. As in the past, the relationship between Rumple Church and Grandfather Home continued. Receipts from the annual August collections now were channeled through Concord, rather than Holston Presbytery: both had been supporting the Home since the birth of the Synod of Appalachia in 1915. Rumple Memorial was indeed now within easier commuting distance of centers in Concord rather than Holston Presbytery; and in the controversies which would come to disturb the church during the next decade, the new connection meant that the court to which the delicate matters regarding Holshouser's successor would be referred would be made up of more locally-accessible representatives. For by an unhappy twist, the new connection had its first test when outside authorities had to be drawn in to adjudge matters on which the church would soon become deeply divided. �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 147 Notes for Chapter Five 1. RMPC Session Records, pp. 39-42. 2. Clipping from The Blowing Rocket, n.d., in "This Is Your Life" Scrapbook. 3. Oral interviews with Perry Lentz and Rudolph Greene, December 1986; RMPC Sunday Bulletin, September 28, 1958, in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. 1. Grove's daughter, Jean Chater, and her husband, Bill, are current members of RMPC; as of 1987 she served as secretary of the Watauga County Hunger Coalition in Boone, while Bill taught the Couples' Sunday school class and sang in the choir. 4. RMPC Sunday Bulletin, December 8, 1957, reprinting sermon of November 10, 1957, in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. 1. 5. Letter, Dunn to Martin, September 26, 1913, W. J. Martin Papers, Davidson College Archives; and information from Chalmers G. Davidson. See also "Robert A. Dunn Dies After Brief Illness," Charlotte Observer, February 22, 1945, p. 1.1 am grateful to summer resident Jim Love of Mount Holly for this reference and for information about the Dunn house and property. For terms of the Dunn legacy: 1970 Yearbook, RMPC. 6. Trouble also again plagued the heating system: in December "the offer of Geo. Sudderth, Jr., to look after furnaces was accepted. . . ." RMPC Session Records, Book 2, pp. 56-57; and General Assembly Statistical Reports for 1958, 1959. 7. RMPC Session Records, meeting of May 27, 1959. 8. Copy of portion of RMPC church bulletin, fall 1959, exact date unknown. As Holston Presbytery met in Blowing Rock that fall, the Rev. Dr. E. T. Thompson, Moderator of the General Assembly that year, mentioned as preaching "next week," would have been present in that connection. Others on the list Keys gave who have not previously been noted in this account include: three North Carolina governors (Hoey, Broughton, and Hodges), a president of Davidson College (the Rev. Dr. John R. Cunningham), a well-known Christian author and professor at Columbia Theological Seminary (the Rev. Dr. Manford George Gutzke) and a Union Theological Seminary president (the Rev. Dr. James A. Jones). 9. RMPC Session Records, Book 2, pp. 63, 192. 10. "Rumple Memorial Presbyterians Pay Off New Manse Building Debt," The Blowing Rocket, August 25, 1962; clipping in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. Searcy was a co-founder of the Waldensian Bakeries in Valdese and had a summer home in Mayview: information from Perry Lentz and Rudolph Greene. 11. Oral interview with Rudolph Greene, December 1986. See also RMPC Session Records, Book 2, pp. 57-95, passim. 12. Advertisement, The Blowing Rock Journal, no date, copy of clipping kindly supplied the author by the Rev. Brinkerhoff. �148 / Chapter Five 13. "Resolution," undated newspaper clipping; Digest of Meeting of Holston Presbytery, First Church, Kingsport, April 6,1965, copies of each supplied by Brinkerhoff. 14. RMPC Session Records, Book 2, p. 108. 15. See, for example, Thompson, Presbyterians, III, 538-551. In 1964, the PCUS's Directory of Worship was amended to make "unmistakably clear" the position that "No one shall be excluded from participation in public worship in the Lord's house on the grounds of race, color, or class"; ibid., p. 549. 16. Oral interview with Brinkerhoff, July 1987. 17. Jay Greene later served eighteen years as superintendent of the Sunday school, for nine years as deacon, and twelve years on the session. At his death in 1981, members of his family, and friends, at the urging of his niece, Gail Ford, and nephew, Terry Lentz, established a memorial fund in his name, the income of which still supports this annual event at the Sunday school. Information supplied by Bernie Greene. 18. RMPC Session Records, pp. 106, 112, 117, 122. 19. See folder, "Summer Residents Committee," RMPC records files. Beginning in early 1962, the church treasurer's job fell to Everett Widener, who, with a committee of deacons, thoroughly overhauled the church's budgetary procedures and, probably for the first time in Rumple's history, had the church books audited. Widener was followed as treasurer by deacon Bob Hardin when he was elected elder in late 1963. 20. Until at least the mid-1930*s, the original "great old chandeliers with their dozens of lamps" still hung in the church; these were apparently not suitable for electrification, or had already been disposed of by the 1960's. "Little Stone Presbyterian Church At Blowing Rock Attracts Visitors," Watauga Democrat, June 1, 1933, p. 3. 21. RMPC Session Records, Book 2, p. 111. 22. Ibid., p. 123. 23. Letter, Bowman to the Rev. Perry Mobley, February 25, 1978. Other information in this section from oral interview with Bowman, January 1987. 24. RMPC Session Records, Book 3 [1965-1976], Congregational meeting of April 27, 1969; the congregation rejected a proposal to adopt the unieameral system in 1971: ibid., congregational meeting of September 19. See chapter below for more on this issue. 25. Nell Greene, "She Was God's Great Lady," The Blowing Rocket, undated clipping in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 26. Church Data Form, December 13, 1965, 5-pp., RMPC Session Records, Book 3. 27. RMPC Session Records, "Report of Nominating Committee," Congregational Meeting of May 29, 1966. �Leaps of Faith, 1956-1973 / 149 28. McGeachy, Confronted, p. 573. McGeachy noted the unusually large numbers of young people involved during the mid-1950's in Concord Presbytery's youth activities who later entered the ministry or other full-time Christian work. Included in that number were Gregory M. Grana, who served on the Youth Council in 1954, also attended Davidson College, and was "ordained by Concord [Presbytery], July 26, 1964, upon his appointment as an overseas missionary to the Congo (now Zaire). Family illness, while he was in language school in Belgium forced his return home and he was employed by the Board of World Missions." Ibid., p. 574. Grana and his family have been residents of Blowing Rock and active in various ways at Rumple Church since 1985. 29. Holshouser recalled in 1987 that during the building campaign a summer resident approached him, quite irate that the building would not match the original stone sanctuary very well. But upon being informed of the costs involved, he gave a generous donation anyway. Oral interview with the Rev. Richard Holshouser, Old Fort, N.C., September 1987. 30. RMPC, Scrapbook, Volume I. 31. RMPC service bulletin, "The Service of Dedication for The Annie Ludlow Cannon Memorial Education Building," August 16, 1969, in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 32. Ibid. The bulletin also acknowledged Owen Coffey, who had "freely given many long hours in the planning and carrying-through of decisions"; the summer residents (it noted that "each month of the entire year is increasingly filled with the coming and going of so many who are truly a part of us"); the architect, John Higgins; and the construction supervisor for the Wilkie Construction Co., Joe Dobbins. A member of the building committee was the late Cecil Rhodes, who died during the years of construction. A carpenter, Rhodes was severely injured during a fall at a building site at Hound Ears and died a few weeks later. He had been superintendent of the Sunday school and an enthusiastic promoter of the new building. Oral interview with the Rev. Holshouser, September 1987. 33. The Women's Sunday school classroom was named in Mrs. Nebel's honor as a tribute to her generosity. Marian Nebel was the second wife of the late William Nebel, a German immigrant early in the twentieth century, whose fortune had been made in the hosiery business in Charlotte. The Nebels were also benefactors of Lees-McRae College: a residence hall there is named for them. A longtime summer resident of Blowing Rock, Mrs. Nebel as of 1987 still spent much of each year at her summer home on Chestnut Drive and attended services at Rumple. 34. See several press clippings from The Blowing Rocket and the Lenoir News-Topic in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 35. "A Petition from Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church, Blowing Rock, N.C. to Holston Presbytery, Synod of Appalachia and a Study of Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church's Relation to Holston and Concord Presbyteries," 5 pp., n.d., in RMPC Records; see p. 1 for a series of brief excerpts from General Assembly Minutes back to 1960 concerning the issue of realignment and restructuring court boundaries. Some of these denomination-wide restruc- �150 / Chapter Five turing efforts came as part of the growing movement toward reunion with the Northern Presbyterians: Thompson, Presbyterians, III, 522-582. 36. Minutes of Holston Presbytery, Adjourned Spring Meeting, April 12, 1969, p. 126; and Stated Summer Meeting, July 18-19.1969, p. 3. Holshouser served for over a year as temporary supply pastor at Baird's Creek during this period. He oversaw improvements in its physical plant and growth in its congregational membership. Since 1971 its pastor has been the Rev. Spears Alexander, whose wife, Joyce, is principal of the Blowing Rock Elementary School, and an active member of the Boone Presbyterian Church. �6 Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 RICHARD HOLSHOUSER and his family enjoyed, and still enjoy, Blowing Rock. During his time at Rumple he bought property not far from town and some years later built a year-round house which the family still uses for summer vacations and occasional days in the high country. He intends it for a retirement home. But when in 1972 he suggested to the session that he vacate the manse and receive an allowance for living in a home of his own, the idea was turned down. Session memories were too fresh of local efforts which had been put into building the barely ten-year-old, church-owned house on Wallingford Street. He encountered resistance as well to a suggestion that the church adopt the unicameral system of government, then being instituted at many smaller churches in the denomination. Consolidating the board of deacons with the session of ruling elders was rejected by a congregational vote in September 1971.l In 1972 the minister was voted what amounted to a $200 raise for 1973, from $6800 ($800 of which was a child allowance) to $7000 (with no such allowance).2 Another $350 salary raise was voted for 1973. During seven years, the number of church members had grown considerably, but a review of the rolls in 1972 identified some forty-five persons who had attended no function, or made any financial contribution, in a year. As the church newspaper "Slate and Stone" put it, "Even with this very easy standard, from the approximately 240 members on roll there are 195 active members. Various inactive members do not attend or give at all because they say they have been offended by the minister, the officers, or other members." The paper invited inactive members to "Come to study Jesus in Sunday School and worship God. Instead of letting your soul be eaten up by insult, come join other believers who continue to praise God for all his mercies to us."3 151 �152 / Chapter Six Still, the issue of inactivity had apparently become serious. Some of the summer people had also shown a lessened interest during the last year of Holshouser's pastorate.4 Holshouser himself recalls that he had begun to feel he had done all he could do —and he had done a lot—in Blowing Rock by the summer of 1973. In July, he asked a congregational meeting to dissolve his pastoral relation with the church. On a vote of 49 to 13, his request was granted. Two members with long ties to the church, Sarah Payne and elder Bob Hardin, expressed the congregation's appreciation to the Holshouser family for their years at Rumple, and their personal regret at his departure. Holshouser received a standing ovation at the end of the meeting. But unlike the mood at the previous minister's departure, this time the congregation seemed less certain how to proceed. The session had to decide afresh whether to continue with a number of the church's programs and ways of doing things: Rudolph Greene, again clerk of session, found it necessary to take votes on whether the church secretary, Mary Shore, should continue, and continue to put out the newsletter, "Slate and Stone," which had begun under Holshouser; whether a covered dish supper would continue monthly; and whether Jean Bolick, now church treasurer, should pick up the mail (the session answered all these questions affirmatively). Likewise the chairman of the pulpit committee, Jim O'Dell, had to ask all members of the session and diaconate to "list what they considered to be the goals of our church," and reported that presbytery had requested the Rev. J. K. Parker, Jr., of the Boone church, to work with Rumple in securing a new pastor.5 Among the guest preachers who filled in that summer and fall was the Rev. Dr. Ellison Smyth, of Blacksburg, Virginia, who had retired in 1968 after more than thirty years of service in churches throughout the middle South, and whose father-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Charles G. Vardell, had so often preached at Rumple in the years before his death in 1958.6 Several others, including the Rev. Lynn Brown, also assisted on occasion. Not until April of the following year did O'Dell bring to the session, and then to the congregation, the name of "the only minister to date that the entire Pulpit Committee had agreed would be able to serve our church," the Rev. Mr. Francis C. Collier.7 Collier was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. Fifty-three years old when he arrived in Blowing Rock that summer, he and his wife, Dorothy Jean, had three sons. Educated at the University of Edinburgh, where he had received the Master's degree in 1943, Collier had spent some years in British military service, and had taught in Siam: he wrote a commentary for teachers on five plays of Shakespeare, in English and �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 153 Siamese, published in 1959, and a book of English lessons for Siamese children, published in 1960 and 1961. Rumple's was his first pastorate after completing a Master of Divinity degree from Union Seminary in 1974. He was ordained on July 14 of that year, in a service held at Blowing Rock.8 Session minutes covering the Collier years at Rumple, 1974-1978, are lengthier than for any previous pastorate. Indeed, together they run to about half as many pages as the minutes for all previous meetings since a session was organized in 1913. They reflect not only the growing complexity of the church's many concerns, but also a level of tension, which seemed high almost from the start. Matters substantial and trivial came up for session consideration; a few issues obviously divided the new pastor from some elders quite early on. Steeped in the Scottish Presbyterian tradition, Collier delighted some with his brogue, and his thoughtful, learned sermons. His pastoral counseling style and faithful visitations in homes and hospitals drew appreciative comment from many. He observed holy days with "high church" dignity, reflecting what was perhaps a part of his British heritage and a growing denominational trend. But some felt the new pastor's approach to worship departed too much from Rumple's traditions. Soon after his arrival he urged the session to order monthly, instead of quarterly, observance of the Lord's Supper; the session tabled the matter for months, agreed to give it a trial over the winter of 1974-5, then voted to drop it. Collier persisted, holding out for greater ceremonial meaning at worship. In 1975, "it was determined to hold celebrations of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper quarterly on the old quarter days of Candlemas (February), Whitsunday (May), Lammas (August), and Martinmas (November), with additional celebrations at Christmas and Easter, etc." This attempt to reproduce the pattern of the Scottish church year might well have accorded with the wishes of some summer residents as well, as it would allow the sacrament to be celebrated with a larger of their number. The old dates were nevertheless quietly restored upon Collier's departure.9 Another uncomfortable situation was created when the new pastor took offense at the appearance in the parish of his predecessor, to whom many in the congregation still felt attached. The session had earlier given Holshouser approval to perform a wedding in the stone sanctuary, and to baptize in a private ceremony a baby born to a member couple. Collier focused on these infractions of the Book of Church Order, brought them forcefully to the attention of the session, and threatened to raise the issue at presbytery if such practices did not cease. He seemed impervious to arguments that, in the first instance, �154 / Chapter Six the marriage in question was to occur before he himself had been installed, or even ordained; and that the private baptism had been canceled, once all parties realized the request was impermissible. Vigorous, even pedantic, in his conduct of session meetings, Collier thereafter felt it necessary to open each meeting not only with the usual prayer and Scripture lesson but with a reading from the Book of Church Order as well. He began keeping the minutes himself, having them signed after the fact by the clerk.10 Difficulty, probably unrelated to the new pastor, who clearly wished its success, also soon arose with the music program. Organist "Miss Margaret" Vance had died in November 1972, after having played faithfully for more than thirty years. Holshouser conducted her funeral service. He recalls that during 1970, while the chapel was undergoing renovation and it was necessary to meet all winter in the stone sanctuary, he personally drove "Miss Margaret" from her home to the church in his four-wheel drive car and helped her wrap up in blankets in the choir loft; but she had never missed a service.11 A memorial concert was presented in December 1972 by the new church organist, Darrell Blake, and the choir room in the new educational building was dedicated to her memory. But the choir director, Faye Parker, soon resigned, and Blake himself departed shortly after. An unhappy pattern was developing. Since 1972, a succession of organists and choir directors have come and gone at Rumple Memorial, and debates over their pay and their duties have chronically occupied the session. One factor in this pattern may have been that, since Margaret Vance had played virtually for free for years (her salary during her last years was $10 per Sunday), a session accustomed to getting such services so cheaply, for so long, has ever since had difficulty accepting the need to pay professional wages to professional musicians.12 Yet the church has always wanted a music program. In 1977 it purchased a new Allen digital computer synthesized organ for the winter chapel: the fundraising committee was headed by Bernice Keppel, widow of Dr. Alvin C. Keppel, president of Catawba College, 1942-63, and the organ was dedicated in memory of nineteen year-old Marian Coffey, daughter of members Mr. and Mrs. Owen Coffey, killed in an automobile collision in May 1977.13 But problems with the music program have complicated the responsibilities of every pastor for the last fifteen years, and Collier was no exception. Thus, while most of the church's activities in the community continued, and Collier received warm support from many, grievances accumulated. The minister's own perceived brusqueness and tenacity sometimes made communication difficult and led to behind-the-scenes �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 155 dissatisfaction. Perhaps too much local pride led to intolerance. Eccentricities of dress (his tarn o'shanter cap was a familiar sight around town, and he loved to don a kilt for ceremonial occasions) seemed harmless enough at first, but became to some objects of silly gossip. Ministers in small towns can have no secrets; even the behavior of their families reflects directly upon their good intentions. So while many were prepared to go a certain distance with him and with his family, no limit was set beforehand, making Collier's job harder. By the summer of 1976, the nation's bicentennial year (Blowing Rock made much of the festivities), several members of the session had taken offense at one thing or another and were no longer attending meetings. Budget discussions in the board of deacons that autumn were difficult. The pastor wanted the church to increase its benevolent giving and at the same time grant him a cost of living raise as recommended by presbytery, from $13,475 to $14,280. The deacons' draft budget provided for both, but a majority of session members present at a November meeting refused to go along. Their own budget proposal, involving no pastoral pay increase and a reduced level of benevolences, was thoroughly discussed at a congregational meeting in midNovember. The complexities of procedure under the Book of Church Order confused and frustrated many church members. Unless the elders recommended it, no budget could be voted on by the congregation; yet many members clearly favored the original budget proposed by the deacons. And as the treasurer reported from the floor, a surplus in the previous year's budget made both increases possible. By late in the year, three members of Concord Presbytery's Commission on the Minister, two pastors and a lay elder, had to be called in as observers to the budget making process. The congregation, by secret ballot, rejected the elders' budget, 38-20. In January, a revised budget proposal, granting the minister's raise and modestly increasing benevolences, passed the session and was adopted by the congregation in February.14 But by now Collier had, at great cost to the peace of the church, also taken up the cause of unicameral church government, which the congregation had rejected only six years before. He was warned that his desire to reduce the number of officers by combining the deacons and elders into a single board might lead to more friction. He defended himself by saying the move "was not intended to hurt anyone," but the church had "not enough qualified, willing men to fill 18 officer posts." The congregation met on February 20, one week after final passage of the budget, to elect officers —elders and deacons—under the regular �156 / Chapter Six rotation plan. But Collier ruled that since elections was the general topic of the meeting, the issue of a unicameral system could be discussed before voting. Here he probably thought he had the majority of the congregation's support: a petition had earlier been circulated asking the session to consider the new system and allow the congregation to vote on the matter. Discussion at the meeting revealed that only three elders now made up the session. The other six had resigned or were refusing to serve. None of the three wanted a unicameral system. Opponents of the new system refused even to serve on a proposed "working group" to consider the matter further. The meeting broke up without result. It again became necessary to appeal to presbytery for advice. In April a committee to consider unicameral government was elected at a congregational meeting. All summer the committee met, weekly with few exceptions, interviewing all parties concerned and getting advice from presbytery representatives. By September, their report was ready. Mailed to every member, it advocated the one-board system, and proposed an election and rotation plan which would permit open nominations at a congregational meeting for the first unicameral session (of nine members) to be elected. A "broadly representative" nominating committee elected by the congregation would thereafter propose names annually to replace members rotating off the session, with other nominations taken from the congregation. All current officeholders were to resign, but were eligible for re-election. A congregational meeting on September 25, moderated by the Rev. Clements E. Lamberth, Jr. representing Concord Presbytery, after many questions were raised and answered, adopted the new plan, by secret ballot, but by the slim majority of 36-25. So although the issue had been formally resolved, divisions had been revealed which were not to be easily overcome. That October, Concord Presbytery granted special administrative powers to its Commission on the Minister, to deal with the continuing problems at Rumple Church. By January 1, 1978, a new session had been elected, ordained, and installed, but the church was not yet out of the woods. Through the winter, despite frequent visits from a committee representing the presbytery's commission, and even as the new officers were receiving training sessions in their spiritual and organizational duties, and the entire congregation was being assigned to "task groups" to encourage lay involvement, tensions persisted. On March 19, the commission issued a three-page, single-spaced report, saying it had found the church's difficulties "numerous and complex" and a hindrance to Rumple's "potential for bearing a strong and effec- �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 157 tive witness to Jesus Christ in the community of which it is a part." It ordered both the pastor and the session to change their behavior: Collier was to participate in a "clinical pastoral education program," while the session was to "cease the divisive practice of holding private meetings which exclude some members of the session in order to discuss and make decisions on matters to be brought before session." Further, the church roll was to be carefully scrutinized for inactive members and purged, to end disputes as to who really made up the membership.15 Division now was open. One contingent in the congregation clearly resented outside interference, whether by presbytery or by some summer residents, who on arriving that spring, expressed their desire to continue an active role but sided with Collier in all disputes. Some oldtimers sniped at the new governance system; one of the recentlyelected session members resigned. Relative newcomers to the community who had had little previous experience with the Presbyterian system of government, or with local politics, were drawn into service on various task groups, but not much was accomplished. Attendance at worship services dropped. The pastor himself asked to be excused from a congregational meeting called to pick the nominating committee for new officers for the coming year.16 In short, all the problems of "group dynamics" were being acted out. The crisis broke late that summer. At an emotional meeting on September 7, attended by two presbytery representatives and the entire session, absent the member who had resigned, three alternatives were discussed at length: 1. decide that we were capable of solving the problem and able of putting the answer into effect, 2. that we felt it was impossible for us to solve the problem and we ask the Commission to make the decision for us, 3. ask for a Congregational Meeting and ask the congregation to ask Presbytery to remove Frank [Collier]. The session voted 8-1 for a motion "that we accept defeat and ask Presbytery (or the Commission) to solve our problem, with our help, and that this be brought up at their meeting on Sept. 12." After a few reminders of upcoming events, the meeting adjourned with prayer around the circle.17 Three weeks later, after the commission had met at presbytery and had a further interview with Collier, the minister announced to the session his intention to resign. "He explained that he felt that his leav- �158 / Chapter Six ing was not going to solve all... problems but some they would and it would create other problems. He urged both sides to use his going not as added trouble but a way to the first step of making peace. . . ,"18 And, slowly, peace was restored. The commission presented to the church its five possible options to bring resolution to its work: dissolving the church altogether, assuming jurisdiction in the name of the presbytery, asking all elders to resign, elders and congregation dissolving their relationship, or working through the current session to solve the problems. Session urged the commission to choose the last option, but promised to accept whatever decision the commission reached.19 On October 17, the full commission dissolved Collier's pastoral relationship with the church, effective October 31, and had him vacate the manse at the end of November. He was to be paid by Rumple Church through the end of the year, having already accrued a month's paid vacation. And the commission continued its oversight of the church, naming the Rev. James N. Murray interim moderator of the session. It discussed assuming original jurisdiction over the church, but declined in light of the session's plea to be allowed to work with the commission.20 Neither the session nor the pastor appealed this decision. A hard case had been settled in an unhappy way; blame enough could be apportioned all around. And although many church programs-the Dunn Youth, the Summer Residents' Committee, the music program, and others—remained in place, they, too, had suffered from the lack of leadership, the uncertainty and the infighting. As from a rock thrown in a pond, the ripples created by the Collier case have taken a long time to die down. ***** Just over a month later, Rumple had a new pastor living in the manse-and another one visiting him most weekends. The Rev. David Rice Holt II was assigned by presbytery as interim pastor in November 1978, and his call was confirmed by Rumple Church. He served until September 1979, at a monthly salary of $1000 plus the usual pension contributions and allowances. His new wife, the Rev. Daisy Glenn Holt, (they had been married the previous March in Atlanta, each for the second time), was completing her studies at Columbia Theological Seminary, and so commuted much of the time back and forth to Atlanta. Holt, fifty-three, was the son of a Presbyterian pas- �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 159 tor, a World War II veteran, and a graduate of the University of Florida and Union Seminary. He had held churches in the Virginias and in Missouri before coming to Blowing Rock.21 Holt's call was for an indefinite period, but as his salary was stated in monthly figures, it was clear his time would not be long. It passed quickly. Officer elections, held just before his arrival in November, saw two (out of three) new elders chosen who had been nominated from the floor rather than by the nominating committee- a sign, perhaps, of the congregation's lingering suspicion of the unicameral system and its procedures. Still, the relative harmony on that occasion was a blessing for which the session could be grateful. By May, the Commission on the Minister reported the church no longer needed its supervision; "some [session members] felt we had no problems, others felt we had problems but were able to work these problems out."22 In July the session made recommendations for a new, five-member pulpit search committee: "in order to have every aspect of the church represented," one elder, one member each of the Men and Women of the Church, and two at-large members would be chosen by a congregational meeting. Such a committee was duly nominated and elected on July 22, 1979, balanced not only among the different groups but among old and new members. At the same meeting a nominating committee for choosing candidates for elder was also elected by acclamation: remarkable unanimity, considering the church's recent storms.23 By December, the pulpit committee had its candidate to fill the pastorate, the Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell, forty-five, a native of Spartanburg, South Carolina. A graduate of Mississippi College and of Union Seminary, his most recent church had been in Mullens, West Virginia, where he had preached for ten years. Clerk of Session Mary Shore wrote to all members of the congregation:24 He is very strong on stewardship and benevolences. His personal approach and style as a pastor is "a pastor to my flock." The purpose and nature and his practice of preaching is "I believe that preaching exists for the proclamation of the mighty acts of God, not for the propagating of views, opinions and deals. Preaching is to tell the story that in Jesus Christ, God came into human history, took flesh, and dwelt among us. I preach as *a dying man to dying men.' 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. . . .' (Matt. 11:28) are words of our Lord that I think need to be repeated often to His people. I attempt to do this in my preaching. . . . I try to preach according to the Scottish recipe: remember your own sins and preach against them to the congregation. For most people, life is hard and only in Jesus �160 / Chapter Six can one find the peace that passeth all understanding. We do not know what the future holds but we do know that He holds the future." Hartsell was called as pastor by unanimous vote of the congregation on January 6, 1980. With his wife, Elaine, and their three children, Rand, Molly, and Paige, he arrived in Blowing Rock that winter and settled in to a manse which had been somewhat neglected during the pastorates of his predecessors (improvements in the manse he had made a condition for accepting the church's call). The session felt reassured that his salary and benefits, $12,410, plus a $2,000 travel allowance and insurance and annuity payments, were actually several hundred dollars below what it had been paying Collier during his last year. A major rebuilding job lay ahead. The organist and choir director positions were again vacant: the most recent choir director had resigned in December, citing "irreconcilable problems . . . and hostilities" among choir members; no one headed the Men of the Church; the church no longer had a secretary; the session had recently voted to have two treasurers, one for receipts and one for disbursements, but one of those jobs was still vacant; the Sunday school needed teachers; lingering uncertainty pervaded the SRC; and the Dunn Youth was having problems getting other local churches to cooperate with its planned activities.25 HartselFs talents were thus almost immediately tested. But he found his task invigorating. Equally as fond of the town and region as any of his predecessors, in a remarkably short time Hartsell made himself knowledgeable about the community, the congregation, and the town's permanent and summer resident families. Hartsell's personal style is cheerful and friendly—his familiar whistle announces his arrival just about everywhere he goes —as well as warm and enthusiastic. Yet for all his lightheartedness, he has his earnest and serious side. His carefully prepared prayers from the pulpit are often moving and eloquent; his visitations have also helped bring comfort to many facing despair, or encountering the last enemy, death. But to be "all things to all men," as St. Paul said, is for any Blowing Rock minister a daunting challenge. His reception by the SRC, chaired since 1985 by Charlotte native Henry Neely, was especially supportive.26 That organization's members have continued in recent years to underwrite improvement to the church's physical plant, including providing new carpeting in the stone sanctuary and in the Keys Chapel, a new sidewalk and path lights, and a vestibule for the chapel. Stained glass windows in the vestibule, depicting the old and new official seals of the Presbyterian Church, were donated in 1986 by �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 161 the family of local architect and "transplant" church member Jack Moberg, who designed the structure, and who died of cancer in late 1986 at the age of 37. Hartsell also quickly learned about other church traditions. He recalls that during his first year, when something was said at a session meeting about "Grandfather Home Sunday," he had no idea of the importance of that long-standing but unique event on the church's calendar. He turned the occasion over to the session and took a vacation-and no special service took place at all that year. The situation was remedied the next summer. The last appearance of operatic stars at those occasions, which had been sponsored since Ovens's death by Robert and Mariam Hayes of Concord, Banner Elk, and Blowing Rock, had taken place in 1966. New staff members at the Home and at the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association then apparently decided that the Home's children, not outside musicians, should highlight the service. For several years thereafter, young people from the Home themselves conducted the August programs. But in 1971 and 1972, the Rev. Holshouser personally arranged once again for appearances of visiting artists: in 1971, Ruth Robertson, a contralto who had toured extensively from her home in Hollywood, California, where she often soloed with the First Presbyterian Church, sang as part of a regular worship service; and in 1972, the "Singing Sheppards," a husband-and-wife duet from Kentucky, presented two programs of widely varied sacred music at both a Sunday worship service and an evening concert on the preceding Friday. By 1975, during Collier's years, the concert approach had been revived, and since that time the Farm House Singers, under the direction of Shirley Blackwell, have given afternoon concerts, usually to a packed church. Several of this group of college students from all over the Southeast, who are brought to Blowing Rock each summer to wait tables at the Farm House Restaurant and are trained as soloists and as a chorus, have gone on to careers as professional musicians. For the past three years, at Hartsell's suggestion, the pulpit on Grandfather Home Sunday morning has been filled by Dr. Bradford L. Grain, president of Lees-McRae College-so that the long ties between Tufts's work in Banner Elk and Blowing Rock continue to be emphasized. "Grandfather Home Sunday," then, while no longer drawing the revenues of earlier years, continued under Hartsell as a tradition of joyful musical celebration and service.27 Hartsell started two other important annual events which in updated ways helped bring Rumple back to its historic roots. Beginning in 1981, he arranged an annual July "preaching mission" at the church, �162 / Chapter Six inviting well known Presbyterian minister-authors and teachers of the Word to lead in study, worship, and outreach. Somewhere in this generation the Church had lost its way; old-fashioned revivals became an anachronism to many who have soured on a diet of television evangelism and emotional gospel hucksterism. But the historic truths of the faith have never lost their power to convict, to edify, to persuade, and to build up believers in the body of Christ. The thoughtful, often powerful messages conveyed during these preaching missions have shown that the word "evangelism" must not be dropped entirely from the church's vocabulary. In 1981, the Rev. Dr. I. Howard Chadwick, a native of WinstonSalem, director of the Outreach Foundation of the Presbyterian Church, who had preached for several years at the Westminster Church in Charlotte, delivered five sermons on the theme "Eternal Questions for Contemporary People." The 1982 addresses, on the subject "The Spiritual Renewal," were given by the late Rev. Dr. William A. Benfield, Jr., a 1936 Davidson College graduate, former faculty member at Louisville Seminary, and long a distinguished minister in the Church; in 1970 he had been Moderator of the General Assembly. In 1983, and again in 1985, the Rev. Dr. George M. Docherty, author of a well-received autobiography, I've Seen the Day, and minister emeritus of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church of Washington, D.C., where he succeeded the Rev. Peter Marshall, held the services. The speaker in 1984, the late Rev. Dr. Kenneth G. Phifer, a distinguished preacher and widely-published theologian, addressed sermons to the topic, "It's easy to say. . . ." The 1986 services were led by the Rev. Dr. Ernest T. Campbell, former senior minister at The Riverside Church in New York and professor of worship and preaching at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois, and a nationally-known preacher, who addressed the subject of the gospel's personal and social dimensions. During the centennial summer, the speaker was the Rev. Dr. J. Randolph Taylor, PhD., a Davidson graduate, class of 1951, president of San Francisco Theological Seminary and previously pastor at Myers Park Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, Church of the Pilgrims in Washington, D.C., and Central Presbyterian Church in Atlanta. Dr. Taylor had been chosen the first Moderator of the General Assembly of the newly-reunited Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in 1983.28 With the session's endorsement, Hartsell also instituted an annual "Rumple Sunday" each June, a service which had the potential to take the place of the old-time "Homecoming" or "Rally Day" Sunday of a previous generation. To these services have been invited guest �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 163 preachers who, through family or school ties, have reason to know about and to celebrate with the congregation the legacy of the work of Jethro Rumple, the causes with which he was associated, and the faith of which he was so vigorous a spokesman. They follow, too, in the tradition of Vance, Vardell, and other powerful preachers of earlier generations who had often so ably filled Rumple's pulpit in the summers. The 1987 celebration of "Rumple's Hundredth" also owed a great deal to HartselTs energy and dedication, as well as to an active lay committee whose hard work and "broadly representative" composition augured well for the church's approach to future problems. Recruiting experienced lay leadership, as at many small churches, remained difficult, however. Rumple's congregation is still diverse: the church continues to attract a wide variety of worshippers in summer, but must count on a much smaller corps of the faithful over the winter. Many, though by no means all, of the year-round membership can trace family connections at the church back for several generations. The inevitable disenchantments resulting from the turmoil of the 1970's have taken their toll on older members, and even on younger members of old families whose historic ties to Rumple Church have been frayed or broken. Nearly half the present membership has joined the church since 1980; many have quickly been given roles in the church's programs and in the active committee structure which is a legacy of the "task groups" formed during the Collier controversy. In some cases the enthusiasm and energy of these new leaders has benefitted the church; in others, their inexperience has sometimes led to false starts, or bruised feelings. The numbers attending Sunday school have dropped. Blowing Rock's population, like that of the nation, seems to be aging, as many young people have moved away and retired or semi-retired have arrived to take their places. But both membership and giving at the church have continued to grow. The church rolls reflected a sharp drop in membership at first, from 225 reported members in 1980 to 109 in 1981, as over one hundred inactive names were removed that year, but by the end of 1986, membership had increased to 158. During HartselTs time the church's budget has risen from about $36,000 in 1980 to some $95,500 in 1987. Benevolent giving has also increased as a proportional share of the budget. The church has recently pledged a substantial contribution over the next three years to the expansion campaign currently underway at Lees-McRae, thereby continuing another custom of its founders. But the work of hands and heart, as much as gifts of money, displays true service to the Master's cause. A recent, unique memorial to a longtime member, Alice Frye Lentz, may be seen as an expression of the �164 / Chapter Six kind of gratitude which has developed locally for the work of Rumple Memorial: the Women of the Church, Circle two, in 1984 fashioned a funeral pall, decorated with fine needlework, and used for the first time at Mrs, Lentz's funeral service. Displayed at a church reception shortly afterward, the pall is available for any member's use, and is lovingly stored by her daughter, current Sunday school superintendent Bernie Greene.29 In short, at its one hundredth anniversary, Rumple Memorial maintained its traditional witness and had carried much of its best heritage into a changing world. Rumple Church celebrated its centennial over twelve Sundays in the summer of 1987. Each service was an occasion of pride and satisfaction; each was designed as a rededication to the aims of its founders a century ago, who were, as we have seen, determined to build "For His Cause A Little House" and for His continued service. The events of that summer deserve to be recorded as a tribute to the pastor, the Rev. Vaughn Earl Hartsell, the special Centennial Committee which handled many of the arrangements, the choir, the membership, regular and seasonal, and the many notable guest participants who led or shared in the regular and special activities of the summer. It was a time of fellowship luncheons and receptions on the church lawn, of prayer, praise, music, and preaching. Only time will tell the extent to which the "handful of corn" sown anew on the mountaintop will ripen to maturity. "Rumple Sunday," on June 14, marked the first appearance in Rumpie's pulpit of the Rev. Dr. John W. Kuykendall, president of Davidson College and member of its class of 1959. Long articles in The Blowing Rocket the preceding and following Fridays highlighted Dr. Rumple's career, and described the entire service; the church bulletin for that day has been reproduced elsewhere in this volume.30 When the Rev. Dr. L. B. Gibbs, former executive secretary of the Presbytery of Holston, presented Dr. Kuykendall with a rare copy of the so-called "breeches Bible" of the fifteenth century for the Davidson College Library, the service became in another and unexpected way a reminder of the links which have so long bound the church to its founder and the college, as well as of the congregation's long ties to the former Synod of Appalachia, and the Reformed tradition's high regard for the vernacular Scriptures. For the Rev. Hartsell, Gibbs's appearance on the �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 165 podium also held a more personal meaning: Dr. Gibbs, "Uncle Pete," is the uncle of his wife, Elaine. The Bible had been given anonymously in HartselFs honor to Dr. Gibbs for presentation to the college. Dr. Kuykendall's sermon that day, "A Sense of Place and a Sense of Purpose," developed a text in Joshua 4:1-9: the congregation was reminded that for them, as for the people of Israel, stones had been raised at God's command; they are to be a memorial forever to God's mighty acts, so that "when your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, What mean ye by these stones?" they will have an answer. Other participants in the service included the former governor of North Carolina, Blowing Rock native James E. Holshouser, Jr., who had been baptized at Rumple Church in 1935 and whose family had long been active Presbyterians in the county. Greetings to the congregation from the current governor, James G. Martin, like his predecessor a Presbyterian and a Davidson graduate, were read by Mary Smith, clerk of session. Special music composed for the "Rumple Sunday" service by choir director Noel Lovelace also bore a personal dedication to Hart sell, and to the choir Lovelace had been directing for some five years. The relationship between the Hartsells and the Lovelaces, and between the choir and their director (Marion Lovelace had been church organist for the years her husband directed the choir) had been close for some time. Few in the congregation that Sunday knew the Lovelaces' resignation had already been given. All too many churches underpay their music professionals, despite the demands and expectations they place upon them; Rumple Church has been no exception. Hartsell and several members of the choir had made the case for a ten percent salary raise to the Lovelaces for 1987, but the session imposed provisos for granting it which, from the Lovelaces' perspective, would have taken more time than they could give to the job.31 Later that summer, Lovelace resigned as well from his job as director of choral activities at Appalachian State University and took a full time position at a large church— with a large budget-in Charlotte, Myers Park Baptist. His installation there was attended by several of his friends from Blowing Rock; for them the occasion was bittersweet, but it marked a substantial professional advancement for the highly talented composerdirector, nephew of the noted sacred music composer Austin C. Lovelace. For the rest of the centennial summer, substitute organist Suzanne Dettbarn, and choir directors Amanda Klutz and Charlie Lentz, all of whom had local or church family ties, successfully filled in the music �166 / Chapter Six program. In the autumn of 1987 Rumple secured a new music team: to lead the choir, David Gaston, band director at Hardin Park School in Boone for twelve years and an accomplished flutist; and as organist, Jimmy Dettbarn, a promising student of that instrument, and a member of a musical family of local note. On June 21 of that centennial summer, the Rev. Dr. John M. Handley, general presbyter of the Presbytery of Concord, delivered the sermon. A native of Richmond, Handley was also a graduate of Davidson, class of 1955, and of Union Seminary. His D.Min. was from the McCormick Theological Seminary of Chicago. On the staff of Concord Presbytery since 1974, Handley was well known to many in the congregation. The following Sunday Dr. A. P. Perkinson, Jr., president of St. Andrews Presbyterian College and a 1955 Davidson alumnus, delivered the sermon. Dr. Perkinson's presence was a reminder of the many years during which the Rev. Dr. Charles G. Vardell, founder and first president of Flora Macdonald College, a predecessor school to St. Andrews, had regularly appeared in the Rumple pulpit. Then on July 5, the Rev. J. Allan Smyth, Rumple's great-grandson and VardelFs grandson, preached from the spot where his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father had stood in former years. Smyth, a Davidson graduate, class of 1959, is current pastor of the Hopewell Presbyterian Church in Huntersville. His family still maintains its ties in Blowing Rock. Each year they open the summer home Vardell built on Chestnut Hill, and numerous Rumple-Vardell-Martin descendants visit. One of Smyth's sons is named after his great-grandfather Vardell.32 Smyth's sermon attracted perhaps the largest number of any preacher's during the centennial. Two of the special services also highlighted other parts of the church's summer program: the preaching mission and Grandfather Home Sunday. The Rev. Dr. J. Randolph Taylor, president of San Francisco Theological Seminary, mentioned above, delivered the message on July 12, remaining in town to lead services on each of the following three evenings. He was present to assist in the dedication of a handsome new sign for the churchyard, given that summer by Libba Boyd, in memory of her late husband J. Reed Boyd, who had long been active at the Myers Park Church in Charlotte, and at Rumple Memorial following the couple's retirement to the mountains. Dr. Bradford L. Grain, president of Lees-McRae College, spoke on Grandfather Home Sunday, August 9. Also present that day was Margaret Tufts Neal of Banner Elk, author of And Set Aglow a Sacred Flame, A History of the �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 167 Edgar Tufts Memorial Association, a book which has helped to keep alive the memory of her father's work. Three former pastors of the church also returned to greet old friends in the congregation, reminisce a bit from the pulpit, and call on the church to renew its Christian commitment. The Rev. David Holt, interim minister in 1979, now retired and living in Nashville, preached on July 19. He and his wife, Daisy, who accompanied him, were warmly received. On August 2, the Rev. Blake Brinkerhoff and his family came over from the summer home they maintain at Montreat to deliver the sermon and join the membership at a well-attended luncheon. Since leaving Rumple, Brinkerhoff has been minister at the Highlands Presbyterian Church in Daytona Beach, Florida. On August 23, it was the turn of the Rev. J. Richard Holshouser, minister at Clinchfield and Conley Memorial churches near Marion since leaving Rumple in 1973, and his wife, Rebecca, to be welcomed back by many members and friends in the community. Another who led in worship, on August 16, was the Rev. Dr. Daniel Patrick McGeachy, Davidson class of 1951 (and nephew of longtime pastor and Concord Presbytery historian Neill Patrick McGeachy), now minister of the Downtown Presbyterian Church of Nashville, Tennessee. That congregation's historic building once housed the First Presbyterian Church, formerly the Rev. Dr. James I. Vance's parish. McGeachy's service was certainly the most unusual of the summer: he not only preached but, accompanying himself on the guitar, sang his message of faith, hope, and love. He had the whole congregation joining him. The last guest speaker in the pulpit that summer was the Rev. Dr. John D. MacLeod, Jr., general secretary of the Synod of North Carolina, and a nominee, although not elected, for Moderator of the General Assembly of the PCUSA during 1987. Dr. MacLeod was a 1942 graduate of Davidson College. He extended greetings from the rest of the state's Presbyterians, who had only in 1969 welcomed the congregation back into the fellowship from which it had originally grown. The Rev. Hartsell, who led in worship each Sunday but who preached only once, took the opportunity on July 26 to deliver a centennial sermon of his own entitled, "Our Memory is our Life." Citing places in the Bible where God commanded His people to remember Him and His acts, and reading what amounted to a roll of the saints of the church in former days, Hartsell pointed out the need for present members to keep alive the memory of their own forebears at Rumple, and to recall their own dependence upon the remembered truths of the faith. �168 / Chapter Six And so the circle had come complete: Rumple's parishioners had been reminded of their history, and of their eternal faith, by many of the denomination's present leaders, three of their former ministers, three Presbyterian college presidents and a seminary president, and their own minister. They could now turn to look forward to another century of service for their Lord and for His cause in Blowing Rock. By the 1980's, Blowing Rock has come to display many of the characteristics of small towns throughout its region and the nation. It profited from the renewed ecological concerns of the post-Silent Spring era and the back-to-the-earth movement of the 1970's: many new residents moved in, preferring the rural life of the exurbs, although total year-round population has not increased much. A few who arrived have also since departed, as better job opportunities "off the mountain" have become available. Like many places in the country, Blowing Rock is more than ever a town of people on the move. Some of the new arrivals brought with them sophisticated tastes and city ways which have had many local repercussions: from Art in the Park, dinner theaters, and craft shops, to gourmet restaurants, Blowing Rock can now offer residents and visitors alike a variety of diversions quite unexpected a generation ago. The town also has experienced a "gentrification" unknown even in its earlier heyday as a resort. Property prices have skyrocketed, some buildings have gone up in haste whose designers, one hopes, are repenting at leisure, and town services have become strained—and expensive. The successful recent refurbishing of the Green Park Inn is a good example of the way the town can hang on to its heritage while meeting modern needs. The condominium craze, which, among its other manifestations, strewed the grounds of the old Chetola estate with clumps of uninspired "multi-unit" dwellings, is a less fortunate recent innovation. Numbers of Blowing Rock's native sons and daughters still are forced to leave the town and region to find remunerative jobs. New highways—the four-laned U.S. 321 to Boone a few years ago (the "James E. Holshouser, Jr., Memorial Highway"), the completed Blue Ridge Parkway during the church's centennial summer—bring ever more traffic and parking problems to the little mountain community. Many local Presbyterians continue to take their civic responsibilities seriously: they run for local office, volunteer for the fire �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 169 department and rescue squad, participate in civic and fraternal service organizations. Yet it seems difficult, in an age of increasing centralization and bureaucratic regulation, to channel "progress" in coherent ways. The Rev. Earnest, reminiscing in the summer of 1987 about his days in Blowing Rock thirty-five years ago, recalled pulling his children on a sled from the church to the post office and back on snowy winter days, never seeing a car. Blowing Rock in the 1960's experienced the unwelcome phenomenon of becoming the only social outlet for thousands of Appalachian State University students, so that its streets were full all winter. But by the mid 1980's, when strict enforcement of alcohol and noise laws led most of the student-oriented establishments to close their doors, and Boone opened its own alcohol outlets, some in Blowing Rock had reason to regret the loss of revenues —even if it became less expensive to police the town and pay for trash pickup. The public voted in liquor by the drink in 1986. Yet for all its recent changes, Blowing Rock has remained a pleasant town in which to live. Its zoning restrictions, and concern for uptown beautification, have prevented the decay of its Main Street. New neighborhoods of attractive, landscaped homes, tucked away on winding roads, open onto the spectacular views for which the town has always been justly famous. Improved access to Boone has drawn Appalachian State University faculty and employees, attracted by the town's quiet and culture, into the community as permanent residents. Fewer problems plague its schools; greater opportunities for neighborliness still exist to retain new residents. Blowing Rock has never been the isolated backwater which has stereotypically and incorrectly described many Appalachian mountain communities. And in its midst, for one hundred years, Presbyterians have come and gone, witnessing the town's changes, and taking part in all of them. A classic sermon illustration has it that the Church is both an organization and an organism. As an organization, it all too frequently betrays the imperfect, human characteristics of its collective membership. Presbyterians have always advocated a system of elected, representative government which, at ever higher levels, can help to correct errors of judgment, and provide opportunities for appeal and guidance. Many at Rumple Church and throughout the nation have rejoiced at the reunion of Southern Presbyterians with the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A., effected in 1983 after years of debate and compromise, which has restored partial unity and enlarged the witness of at least one arm of the Christian body on earth. Yet no serious claim need be made that this is the only practical, much less Scriptural, or even Reformed, church structure.33 For the church is also an organism: it is called the �170 / Chapter Six "Body of Christ" and its Head is therefore its eternal and risen Lord. It belongs, according to Christian doctrine, to Christ and is, like Him, alive, and ever renewed. As a community of believers, it exists to display joyful and visible evidence of the saving power of the grace of God to its own members, its community, and the world at large. The Holy Spirit is its only true enabler and comforter. What has been accomplished at Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church in Blowing Rock, therefore, through one hundred years, is, like all things human, imperfect, partial, and mortal. But the faith the church has maintained in the community is the work of its Head. That faith, believers know, will one day be perfect, as He is. �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 /111 Notes for Chapter Six 1. RMPC Session Records, meeting of June 5,1972, and congregational meeting of September 19, 1971. 2. Ibid., congregational meeting of November 28, 1971. 3. "Slate and Stone," September 1972, file at RMPC. The church paper consisted in this period of eight to twelve legal-size mimeographed sheets. Its major writer-editor-printer-distributor was Mary Shore, now Mary Smith, then church secretary and secretary at the Blowing Rock School. Active at the church since her childhood, the faithful and cheerful Smith has held more positions at the church than anyone can remember (including herself). She was clerk of session as of summer 1987. 4. Letter, Bowman to Mobley, September 25, 1978, in RMPC files. 5. RMPC Session Records, meeting of August 29, 1973. 6. Smyth graduated from Virginia Polytechnic Institute in 1925 and from Union Seminary in 1930. He and his wife, Mary Linda Vardell, whom he married in 1937, have three children, Susan, Ellison Adger, Jr., and another Presbyterian preacher, the Rev. James Allan Smyth, a 1959 Davidson graduate who holds the B.D. degree from Union Seminary, the D.Min. degree from McCormick Seminary: Ministerial Directory, 1983 edition. For VardelFs death at age 98, see New York Times, Sunday, May 4, 1958, p. 89, and Charlotte Observer, same date, p. 5D. Members of the family donated RMPC's fourth stained-glass window in the stone sanctuary, a depiction of the Ascendant Christ, shortly after Dr. VardelTs death. 7. RMPC Session Records, meeting of April 9, and congregational meeting of April 21, 1974. 8. Ministerial Directory, 1975 edition. Collier also taught in Thailand and Sudan. For a time in 1966 and 1967 he taught school in Virginia Beach, Virginia, after emigrating to the United States. Assisting at Collier's ordination and installation were, among others, the Rev. Dr. Fred R. Stair, president of Union Seminary: RMPC Service bulletin, July 14, 1974, and "Rumple To Welcome New Pastor On Sunday," The Blowing Rocket, May 17, 1974, clipping in RMPC Scrapbook, Vol. I. 9. WOC History, 1975, at Historical Foundation, Montreat. 10. RMPC Session Records, meetings of June 17 and July 18, 1974. Nothing in the Book of Church Order requires that the minutes be physically written by the clerk, only that he (or more recently, she) "record the transactions [of session meetings] and preserve the records." Some pastors previous to Collier also apparently kept the minutes, which were almost invariably countersigned by the clerk. But by the 1960's, as is apparent from the style, clerks kept the minutes themselves. A clear change of writing style, including the appearance of British spelling, marks the place at which Collier began keeping them in 1974 —and stopped after commission oversight began in early 1978. �172 / Chapter Six 11. Oral interview with Holshouser, September 1987. 12. During the celebration of Rumple's centennial in summer 1987, the unfortunate pattern repeated itself: see below. 13. The Keppels were very active at Rumple Church during their retirement years in Blowing Rock: he as church treasurer for a time during the 1950's, she as officer in the WOC: see numerous clippings in RMPC Scrapbook, Vols I and II. 14. RMPC Session Records, Book 4 [1977-1979], meetings of November 4 and 8, and December 9, 1976; congregational meetings of November 14 and December 16, 1976, and February 13, 1977. 15. "Findings and Actions of the Commission on the Minister," with cover memorandum dated March 19, 1978, appended to RMPC Session Records, meeting of same date. When Hartsell arrived in early 1980, this last condition had not been carried out. 16. RMPC Session Records, meeting of August 29, 1978. 17. Ibid., session meeting of September 7, 1978. 18. Ibid., session meetings of September 7 and 28, 1978. 19. Ibid., session meeting of September 28, 1978. 20. Report of Administrative Commission Regarding the Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church, in Minutes of Concord Presbytery, called meeting of November 21, 1978, pp. 89-91. 21. Ministerial Directory, 1983 edition. 22. RMPC Session Records, meetings of May 20 and July 5, 1979. 23. For about three months that fall, the Rev. Frank Alfred (Al) Mathes, recently retired from the Huntersville Church, and a summer resident of Blowing Rock, served as interim pastor. Mathes has preached numerous times at Rumple. He and his wife, Jackie, spend winters in Birmingham, Alabama, with their daughter, Rachel, a teacher of music and a gifted soprano who has sung with the Metropolitan Opera and in Europe. Rachel Mathes's occasional appearances as soloist at Rumple are always a treat for the congregation and choir. 24. Letter, signed by Mary Shore, December 20, 1979, in RMPC Session Records. 25. Statistical Report for General Assembly, for Year Ending December 31, 1979, copy in RMPC Session Records. 26. The SRC has had four chairmen since its creation during Brinkerhoffs pastorate: Eugene Bowman, of Mocksville; Andy Nimmo, of Dunedin, Florida, now a full-time resident of Blowing Rock; Henry Enterline, of Sarasota, Florida; and Neely, who has recently taken up permanent residence in town. �Shocks and Signs, 1973-1987 / 173 27. File, "Grandfather Home Day Materials," RMPC records. Oral interview with Jim Swinkola, present executive director of Grandfather Home, October 1987. The mission of the Home has itself undergone change since the mid1960's. It is presently far less engaged in long term child care and custody, and does considerably more family counseling and placement of children with foster and adoptive homes. 28. RMPC service bulletins for annual preaching missions, prepared and supplied by the Rev. Hartsell. 29. RMPC service bulletin insert, "The Alice Lentz Funeral Pall," 1984, supplied by Bernie Greene. In her memory, the family also donated a bronze plaque for "her" pew in the church in 1985, and the next year gave vases, reminders of Mrs. Lentz's frequent gift of flowers to enhance the beauty of the church service. 30. "Jethro Rumple's Life Had Impact All Across North Carolina," and "Presbyterians To Observe 'Rumple Sunday/ " The Blowing Rocket, June 12, 1987, p. 15; "Sunday Was Historic Day For Rumple As Church Celebrates Centennial," ibid, June 19, 1987, p. 2. The service was videotaped by Blowing Rocket editor and church member Jerry Burns, and tape recorded by the minister. Audiotapes of all the services are at RMPC. Much of the information in the following paragraphs came as well from the pamphlet "Centennial Celebration 1887-1987," prepared by the Rev. Hartsell. 31. See paper prepared for session members by Lovelace, 1985, in RMPC records; and information from the Rev. Hartsell. The session wanted them to take full responsibility for a children's choir in exchange for the raise-a change from the job description under which they had been employed. Their combined salary in 1987 came to $6,600. 32. Oral interview with Smyth, June 1987. 33. The classic little book by the Rev. Dr. Walter L. Lingle, Presbyterians: Their History and Beliefs (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1978; first published 1944) has been revised and updated by the Rev. Dr. John W. Kuykendall, president of Davidson College and Rumple Church's guest preacher on Rumple Sunday, 1987. It is an excellent introduction for the layperson on both the organic and organizational characteristics of the denomination. �This page intentionally left blank �BIBLIOGRAPHY Alexander, Nancy. Here Will I Dwell: The Story of Caldwell County. n.p. Copyright by author, 1956. Arthur, John Preston. A History of Watauga County, North Carolina, With Sketches of Prominent Families. Richmond: Everett Waddey Co., 1915. Repr. 1976. Beaty, Mary D. A History of the Davidson College Presbyterian Church. Davidson, NC: Davidson College Presbyterian Church, [1987]. Blackmun, Ora. Western North Carolina: Its Mountains and Its People to 1880. Boone, NC: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1977. Brooks, Maurice. The Appalachians. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1965. Chamberlain, Hope Summerell. This Was Home. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1938. Claiborne, Jack. The Charlotte Observer; Its Time and Place, 1896-1986. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1986. Clark, Thomas F. History of Myers Park Presbyterian Church, 1926-1966. Charlotte, NC: Myers Park Presbyterian Church, 1966. Craig, David Irvin. A History of the Development of the Presbyterian Church in North Carolina, and of Synodical Missions, together with Evangelistic Addresses by James I. Vance, D.D., and Others. Richmond: Whittet & Shepperson, 1907. Craig, Edward Marshall. Highways and Byways of Appalachia: A Study of the Work of the Synod of Appalachia of the Presbyterian Church in the United States. Kingsport, TN: Kingsport Press, 1927. Daingerfield, Marjorie. "Old Blowing Rock." n.p., n.d. Typescript at Community Library of Blowing Rock. Davidson, Chalmers Gaston. The Plantation World around Davidson. Rev. and enl. ed. Davidson, N.C.: Briarpatch Press, 1982. First publ. 1969. �176 / Bibliography Davidson College. Sketches of the Graduating Class of Davidson College North Carolina 1872-1876. n.p., n.d. [Davidson, NC: 1916?]. Dixon, Max. The Wataugans. Nashville, TN: Tennessee American Revolution Bicentennial Commission, 1976. Dunn, Robert A. History of the First Presbyterian Church of Charlotte, N.C. n.p., n.d. [Charlotte, NC: 1932. Rev., 1945]. Eller, Ronald D. Miners, Millhands and Mountaineers; Industrialization of the Appalachian South, 1880-1930. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1982. First Presbyterian Church, Detroit, ML One Hundredth Anniversary Celebration, 1818-1918. n.p., n.d. [Detroit, 1918]. First Presbyterian Church, Lenoir, NC. Minutes and Register 1852-1928, 2 Vols.; Session Minutes 1928-1962, 2 Vols. Raleigh: North Carolina State Archives, microfilm copy. Foote, William Henry. Sketches of North Carolina. Historical and Biographical. New York: Robert Carter, 1846. Repr. 1912. Gaffney, Sanna, et. a/., The Heritage of Watauga County, North Carolina, Volume I, 1984. Winston-Salem, NC: Hunter Publishing Co., 1984. Garth, John G. Sixty Years of Home Missions in the Synod of North Carolina. Charlotte: Standard Publ. Co., 1948. Gobbel, Luther L. Church-State Relationships in Education in North Carolina Since 1776. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1938. Harwell, Coleman A. The Centennial History of Westminster Presbyterian Church, Originally Known as Moore Memorial Presbyterian Church, n.p. [Knoxville, TN], 1979. Holt, Betty. History of the First Presbyterian Church, Highlands^ North Carolina, n.p., n.d. [1985]. Hooker, Elizabeth R. Religion in the Highlands; Native Churches and Missionary Enterprises in the Southern Appalachian Area. New York: The Home Mission Council, 1933. Hood, Frazer, ed. If Ye Knew These Things. The Presbyterian Task in North Carolina. Charlotte: Presbyterian Standard, 1927. Keys, Walter K. Lessons at Sunset and Other Sermons, n.p., n.d. [Blowing Rock, NC, 1957?] �Bibliography / 111 Krider, Josephine Kluttz. History of the First Presbyterian Churchy Salisbury, North Carolina 1821-1971. Privately printed. 1971. LaMotte, Louis C. Colored Light: The Story of the Influence of Columbia Theological Seminary, 1828-1936. Richmond: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1937. Lefler, Hugh Talmage and Albert Ray Newsome. The History of a Southern State: North Carolina. 3rd ed. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1973. Leonard, Jacob Calvin. [History off The Southern Synod of the Evangelical and Reformed Church. Lexington, NC: n.p., 1940. Lingle, Walter L. Memories of Davidson College. Richmond: John Knox Press, 1947. and John W. Kuykendall. Presbyterians, Their History and Beliefs. 4th rev. ed. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1978. First Published 1944. McGeachy, Neill Roderick. Confronted by Challenge; A History of the Presbytery of Concord 1795-1973. Including the former Presbytery of Kings Mountain and Presbytery of Winston-Salem. n.p.: The Delmar Co., 1985. Published by order of the Presbytery of Concord. McMillan, Homer. Other Men Labored. Richmond: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1937. Machlin, Milt. Libby. New York: Tower Books, 1980. Melton, George E. "St. Andrews: A Brief History." Laurinburg, NC: St. Andrews Presbyterian College, 1978. Mitchell, Elisha. Diary of a Geological Tour by Dr. Elisha Mitchell in 1827 and 1828. Introduction and Notes by Dr. Kemp P. Battle. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1905. James Sprunt Historical Monograph, No. 6. Moore, Walter W. Appreciations and Historical Addresses, n.p. [Richmond]: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, n.d. [1913?] Morse, H. N. Home Missions —Today and Tomorrow. A Review and a Forecast. New York: Home Missions Council, 1934. Neal, Margaret Tufts. And Set Aglow a Sacred Flame; History of the Edgar Tufts Memorial Association 1895-1942. Banner Elk, NC: Puddingstone Press, Lees-McRae College, 1983. �178 / Bibliography Nelson, Hart M. The Appalachian Presbyterian: Some Rural-Urban Differences, A Preliminary Report. Bowling Green, KY: Western Kentucky University College of Commerce Office of Research and Services, Research Bulletin #5, 1968. Noble, M. C. S. A History of the Public Schools of North Carolina, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1930. Ovens, David. If This Be Treason: A Look At His Town and Times. Charlotte, NC: Heritage House, 1957. Parker, J. K., Jr. "A Study of the Needs, Growth, and Development of the Presbyterian Church of Boone, N.C." Master's Thesis, Appalachian State Teachers College, 1955. Peeler, J. Banks. A Story of the Southern Synod of the Evangelical and Reformed Church, Published under the supervision of the Board of Editors, and authorized by the Synod, n.p., 1968. Peterson, Katherine J. "Boone Fork Institute." Watauga County Times Past No. 14 (Sept. 1984). Presbyterian Church in the U.S. Facing the Situation: Addresses Delivered at the Fourth General Convention of the Laymen's Missionary Movement, Presbyterian Church in the U.S., held in Charlotte, N.C., Feb. 16-18, 1915, Dallas, Texas, Feb. 23-25, 1915. Athens, GA.: Laymen's Missionary Movement, (PCUS), 1915. Powell, William S., ed. Dictionary of North Carolina Biography, Volume I, A-C. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1979. Raine, James Watt. The Land of Saddle-Bags: A Study of the Mountain People of Appalachia. New York: Council of Women for Home Missions and Missionary Education Movement of the United States and Canada, 1924. Special edition publ. by Presbyterian Committee of Publication, Richmond, VA, 1924. Rumple, Jethro. A History of Rowan County, North Carolina; Containing Sketches of Prominent Families and Distinguished Men. Bicentennial Edition. Repr. with a new Index by Edith M. Clark. Baltimore: Regional Publishing Co., 1974. Orig. publ. Salisbury, NC, 1881. Repr. 1916, 1929. . The History of Presbyterianism in North Carolina. Repr. from the North Carolina Presbyterian 1878-1887. With Appendixes. Richmond: The Library of Union Theological Seminary, 1966. Historical Transcripts No. 3. �Bibliography / 179 Shackelford, Laurel, and Bill Weinberg, eds. Our Appalachia; An Oral History. New York: Hill and Wang, 1977. Shaw, Cornelia Rebekah. Davidson College. New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1923. Sill, James Burges. Historical Sketches of Churches in the Diocese of Western North Carolina Episcopal Church. Asheville, NC: Publishing Office, Church of the Redeemer, 1955. Sloop, Mary T. Martin, with LeGette Blythe. Miracle in the Hills. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1953. Smith, C. Alphonso. Presbyterians in Educational Work in North Carolina Since 1813. Address at the Centennial Celebration of the Synod of North Carolina, in Alamance Church, Guilford County, October 7, 1913. Offpr. from Union Seminary Review, Dec.-Jan. 1913/14. Smith, John Robert. The Church That Stayed: The Life and Times of Central Presbyterian Church in the Heart of Atlanta, 1858-1978. Atlanta, GA: The Atlanta Historical Society, 1979. Spence, Thomas Hugh, Jr. A Memoir of Elizabeth Holman Spence. Montreat, NC: for private distribution, 1981. . An Annotated Autobiography. Montreat, NC: for private distribution, 1981. . The Presbyterian Congregation on Rocky River. Concord, NC: Rocky River Presbyterian Church, 1954. Synod of North Carolina. Centennial Address. Delivered at Alamance Church, Greensboro, N.C., October 7, 1913. n.p., n.d. [1913?]. Thompson, Ernest Trice. Presbyterians in the South, 3 volumes. Richmond: John Knox Press, 1963-1973. . Presbyterian Missions in the Southern United States. Richmond: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1934. Tindall, George Brown. The Emergence of the New South 1913-1945. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1967. Van Noppen, Ina W. and John J. Van Noppen. Western North Carolina Since the Civil War. Boone, NC: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1973. Vance, James Isaac. God's Open: Sermons that take us Out-of-doors. New York and Chicago: Fleming H. Revell, 1924. �180 / Bibliography Whisnant, David E. Modernizing the Mountaineer. People, Power, and Planning in Appalachia. Boone, NC: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1980. Whitt, Anne Hall. The Suitcases; Three Orphaned Sisters In the Great Depression in the South. Foreword by Charles Kuralt. Washington, DC: Acropolis Books Ltd., 1982. Wills, Jesse. "The Towers See One Hundred Years: The Story of the First Presbyterian Church Building, Nashville, Tennessee." Church Pamphlet, 1951. Woodside, Robert Edward. "The Educational Development of Avery County." Master's Thesis, Appalachian State Teachers College, 1952. �Index / 181 Index Note: Entire family is often indexed under same last name entry Appalachia, region 51, 54, 145 Appalachia, Synod of 54-55, 72, 145-146, 164 Baker, D. 103 Beall, B. L., R. L. 10, 16, 18, 19 Bernhardt 21, 81 Blacks, worship arrangements for 87-88, 110-111, 130-131 Blackwell, Mrs. E. J. (Shirley) 2, 161 Blake, Darrell 154 Blake, J. R. 5 Boone, town of 5, 10, 15, 49, 113, 145, 152, 166, 168, 169 Bowman, E. S. 111, 133-136 Brady, Mrs. M. J. 6, 23, 43 Brinkerhoff, A. B. 127-138, 167 Brown, C. L. 97, 111, 152 Brown, Mrs. C. F. (Hattie) 39, 99 Buchanan, G. S. 77-80, 85, 86, 88, 102-103 Burns, Mrs. J. (Ethel) 86, 102, 108, 141 Campbell, E. T. 162 Campbell, R. F. 54 Cannon, Mrs. J. C. (Annie) 42, 70, 84-86, 88, 106, 110, 127, 128, 135-137, 141 Cappel, S. S. 112-113, 116 Carson, C. C. 54 Coffey, O. 13, 72, 100, 108, 128, 143, 154 Collier, F. C. 152-158, 160, 161, 163 Concord, Presbytery of 3, 7-9, 11, 19-21, 24, 34, 35, 38, 49, 51, 54, 55, 80, 81, 83, 116, 135, 140, 145, 155, 156, 167 Critcher 38, 75, 99 Davant, C. 82, 121 �182 / Index Davidson College 1-5, 7, 8, 20, 42-44, 51, 52, 56, 66, 67, 97, 101, 105, 114, 124, 127, 140, 162, 164-167 Dunn, R. A. 87, 106, 123-125, 132, 138, 139, 141, 158, 160 Earnest, R. D. 104, 106-112, 169 Farm House Singers 127, 161 Fawcette, E. W. 16, 19 Frye, L. M. 47, 163 Gage, G. 14 Gibbs, L. B. 140, 164 Grandfather Home for Children 42, 45, 50, 76, 82, 83, 98, 100, 104, 106, 123, 125, 134, 146, 161, 166 Green Park Hotel 14, 17, 124, 131, 168 Greene 72, 85, 102, 108, 121, 122, 125, 128, 133, 137, 138, 141, 143, 152, 164 Hall, J. P. 52 Hall, G. W. 45, 83 Hardin, R. B. 86, 102, 103, 121, 122, 125, 128, 138, 152 Harper, G. W. F. 14, 21, 34, 110 Hartsell, V. E. 127, 159-165, 167 Holshouser, J. R. 140-146, 151-152, 153, 154, 161, 167 Holshouser, W. L. 39, 40, 46, 49, 50, 53, 65, 66, 70, 79, 83, 85-87, 99, 101-103, 110, 112, 121, 125, 127, 165, 168 Holston, Presbytery of 55, 68-70, 72, 73, 75-77, 83, 86, 89, 97, 112, 113, 116, 121, 127, 130, 140, 145, 146, 164 Holt, D. R. II 158-159, 167 Hook, C. C. 46 Ingle, J. 15, 17, 83 Keys, W. K. 55, 74-76, 86, 89, 97-100, 102-104, 106, 110, 111, 115, 116, 121-128, 134, 135, 143, 160 Kluttz (Klutz) 15, 70, 75, 77, 98, 102, 122, 124, 125, 165 Knox, J. M. 70 Lees-McRae Institute, later College 39-41, 51, 52, 103, 138, 161, 163, 166 Lenoir, town, Church in 1, 2, 11, 16, 17, 19-21, 24, 34-36, 49, 55, 65, 66, 70, 81, 142 �Index / 183 Lovelace, N. 165 Lentz 47, 99, 122, 125, 143, 163, 164, 165 Lynch, Mrs. C. A. 144 Martin, W. J., Col. 2, 4-6, 8, 19, 20, 43, 51 Martin, W. J., Jr. 5, 8, 42-44, 45-48, 51, 52-53, 65-66, 70, 80, 81, 101 Mayview, neighborhood of 66-68, 84, 105, 122, 131 McKaraher, C. G. 69, 70, 72-74 Moore, W. W. 37 Moore, 0., Jr. 112 Morris, W. M. 3, 6, 13, 18, 23, 34 Munroe, C. A. 1, 16, 18-24, 34-37 Nebel, Mrs. W. 143, 144 Newland, L. T. 97, 113-116, 121, 122, 123 Ovens, D. 98, 104-106, 109-111, 134, 161 Parker, J. K. 113, 152, 154 Payne, Mrs. S. 103, 112, 152 Payne, C. M. 12 Pell, R. P. 23, 33-36 Plumtree School 52, 89 Rhodes, C. 115, 122 Rumple, J. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6-20, 23, 33-35, 42, 44, 45, 48, 51, 80, 81 "Rumple Sunday" 162-163, 164, 165 Salisbury, town, Church in 2-4, 6, 7, 10, 11, 16, 44, 48, 70, 83 Savage, W. R. 41, 48 Shulls Mills, town, Church in 39, 68-70, 72-74, 76, 89, 132 Sloop, M. M. 5, 51-53, 55, 56 Smith, M. S. 151n, 159, 165 Smith, W. R. 76, 77 Snively, Mrs. T. V. (Anne) 110, 136 Southall, T. B. 97 Spence, T. H. 67-70, 76, 108, 123 Stewart, Mrs. A. M. (Emma) 1-3, 14-16, 24 Stringfellow, W. W. 48 Summer Residents Committee (SRC) 133-136, 140, 141, 144, 160 Tester (Teaster) 75, 77, 84, 86, 102, 103, 114 �184 / Index Thurston, W. 113, 116 Tufts, E. 17, 24, 33, 35-42, 44, 45, 47, 48, 50, 52, 54-57, 65, 68-71, 76, 81, 82, 125, 145, 161, 166, 167 Tufts, E. H. 56-57, 97 Underdown, E. G. 49, 70, 83, 85 Vance, J. I. 45, 48, 54, 55, 68, 70, 71, 75, 78, 80, 81, 87, 98, 100, 103, 106, 108, 112, 125, 139, 163, 167 Vance, M. 101, 121, 139, 154 Vardell, C. G. 6-8, 42-45, 48, 50, 53, 80-82, 87, 88, 125, 152, 163, 166 Walser, R. 22, 23, 38, 107, 112 Warfield, M. G. 82, 107n Weedon, H. W. 23, 38, 39, 68 White, J. 47, 49, 69, 70, 75, 77, 78, 85, 103, 108, 113 "White Christmas" 133 Whiting, W. S. 68-70 Williams, C. 76, 85, 100, 102, 104 Williamson, E. M. 44, 45 Women of the Church 39, 83, 138, 142, 143, 159, 164 Yelton, J. 89, 121, 126 �ABOUT Church, DONALD B. SAUNDERS is a of at his B.A. in Ph.D. in University of North in 1974. He has a of the at 1971. He the University in Phi He in 2009. He his in at to � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource For His Cause A Little House: A Hundred Year History of Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church Description An account of the resource <span>Through text and photographs, Donald Saunders explores the history of the Rumple Presbyterian Church in Blowing Rock, NC, as well as its members from the Blowing Rock community.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1jtBn2tDFvcYE5p2_dePnRXeUkcxmH_YP" target="_blank">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469642017/for-his-cause-a-little-house" target="_blank">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Subject The topic of the resource Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church (Blowing Rock, N.C.)--History Blowing Rock (N.C.)--Church history Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Saunders, Donald B. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1988 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Blowing Rock (N.C.) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s Blowing Rock history NC Presbyterian Church religion https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/1c256293a9387593e16c65419ab85308.pdf a049e6167da60c41ba073d974f7439e3 PDF Text Text �^rtut^<qfy<~ fa{«&t- J*d*ty^ tx^lfa- J^ffi^sfiw*™? / S~ X s j 4y'' ^^U^^-JffUJi^ THE AMERICAN SOCIETY OF LANDSCAPE ARCHITECTS FOUNDED 1899 published by Blue Ridge Parkway Appalachian Consortium American Society of Landscape Architects �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2,004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program.; Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1987 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-4216-1 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4218-5 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �INTRODUCTION This is a story of the forming of landscape. It is the tale of the making of one of man's greatest achievements in the 20th century. It is a story of boldly remaking the land but also it is an illustration of how man can fit delicately into the land with minimum impact. The design and construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway is an illustration of the kind of quality possible in an enlightened democracy. It is the true example of how a society can properly care for its land and its people. The actual design and construction is an illustration of quality which can result from inspired teamwork. Each person involved carried out his role with diligent commitment, from the man in charge of design to the craftsman working on the smallest detail. Further, this linear environment is a prime illustration of the landscape architect's skills. It beautifully demonstrates this profession's goal of blending man's needs into nature's systems. The resultant experience clearly shows how man can enhance the beauty of nature and maximize its potentials with careful and artful planning. The linear experience allows us to fully explore and understand a landscape. It is a quality example of how to restore the beauty of a land and yet allow thousands to move through the environment. The environment created is an example to be followed in how to manage an environment over time. Hopefully, this story will be an inspiration to those who wish to create quality environments. This story should be required reading for all those who wish to learn how man can design quality landscapes. Roger Martin President, ASLA 3 �$o conserve VKe scenery and VKe naVural and historic otyccVs and VKe uKld U/e Hxerem and Vo ^ro\)tde /or Vlie enjoxjmenV of Vhe ^ctmem 5uch manner and by such mean$ d5 uhll leax^e Vhem unlm^atred/orHie enjotjmenV of/uVure^encraVton^ From the Act of August 25, 1916 establishing the Park Service. �TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON Civilized man has been prone to conjure up a maxim or a saying to reflect the prevailing philosophy of the day. Two of those familiar favorites readily apply to the world famous Blue Ridge Parkway: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." Even with these two maxims in mind it is extremely difficult today to properly appreciate the awesome mission given to those who pioneered the location, design, and landscaping of some five hundred miles of the nation's first rural national highway—along a route where magnificent, heavily forested mile-high mountains had been gashed by erosion, or exploited for commercial development. Such, nevertheless, was the assignment and the challenge afforded a handful of young landscape architects in the early 1930's. Construction of a thing of beauty—a scenic parkway linking the Shenandoah and the Great Smoky Mountains National Parks—was one answer proposed that could give employment at the moment as well as create beauty for future travelers. To Stanley W. Abbott, the man who was to administer development of this piece of "managed American countryside," Parkway location posed a creative challenge, because, in his words, "You worked with a ten- league canvas and a brush of a comet's tail." Another maxim augured well for success. The ancient preacher in the Book of Ecclesiastes centuries ago declared that "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven . . . a time to plant... a time to h e a l . . . a time to gather stones together. . . ."(3:1). This observation was uniquely and richly fulfilled in development of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Parkway construction was fostered by seven events, which suddenly were fitted together like finely calibrated cogs in a complex machine. First was the creation of the second and third National Parks located in the eastern United States: the Shenandoah in Virginia and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina and Tennessee, as a result of an Act of Congress in 1926 which authorized their establishment. Second, the Great Depression provided a time of emergency and a season of obligation to provide relief for large numbers of unemployed in the mountain region. Solutions included two items essential to the Parkway story—the initial appropriation of $4,000,000 to fund the Public works proposal on December 19, 1933, and the host of relieffunded laborers, in numbers suffi- Typical scene along route of the Parkway prior to its construction. cient to have brought joy even to those monumental tasks undertaken by an Egyptian Pharaoh's slave driver! Third, the Great Depression brought to power leaders who were both able and willing to experiment, to innovate, and to expedite Federal programs previously not politically acceptable, men like Harry F. Byrd, Theodore E. Straus, and Harold L. Ickes. Fourth, the time and the season were right because nation-wide depression made available the talents of highly trained but temporarily idled engineers and landscape architects whose multiple skills could be turned to productive ends by assigning them to help plan the Parkway. Fifth, because of the hard times, the political leaders of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia were sufficiently astute politically to appreciate the economic impact the national parkway would have upon their States, hence they were willing to offer their fullest cooperation. Sixth, the recent construction of the "Skyline Drive" in the Shenandoah National Park and a series of parkways in New York had demonstrated the feasibility and utility of parkways. �Finally, the recreational habits of the American motoring public had led to insistent demands for access to scenic highways uncluttered by commercial traffic. For these reasons, then, the time and the season for the conception and construction of America's first rural national parkway were reaching fruition. Although there were no precedents for such a rural parkway there were certain precisely stated guidelines to which it must conform as stated in the Organic Act which officially established the National Park Service in 1916. All units in the system were obligated to "conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wildlife therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations." Assignment of the project to the National Park Service also had a "time and season" element because Harold L. Ickes, Secretary of the Interior, had primary administrative responsibility for both the National Park Service and the Public Works Program which was to supply the construction force. This routine occurence was of additional significance, because it forced the scenic highway and all of its environs to conform to the above stated National Park Service standards, rather than to the minimal requirements of an ordinary highway. Great Smoky Mountain National Park first made newspaper headlines on September 23,1933. The project, assigned to the National Park Service, received its initial allotment of $4,000,000 in December, 1933, providing work for thousands of mountaineers who otherwise would have been left out of the relief programs. It also established a permanent scenic highway for promoting tourism and national recreation. On December 26, 1933, Stanley W. Abbott reported for duty as Acting Superintendent and Resident Landscape Architect, a post he held for the next decade. It was his responsibility to supervise and administer one of the most spectacular landscape programs this nation has ever witnessed. Time and season were well met in this Cornell graduate, who came endowed with the multiple talents of a modern day Renaissance man. His artistic and literary skills were richly supplemented by a highly innovative and visionary mind. Coming to the Parkway assignment fresh from an apprenticeship with the New York Westchester County Parks program, he already knew the remarkable healing effect a wisely pursued landscape pro- gram could achieve. Before chief planner Gilmore Clarke worked magic on it, the Bronx River area merited this description: "Its deeper reaches were cesspools, its shallower reaches spread into mosquitoey swamps. The banks presented quaint perspectives of rotting wagons, coal-yards, gray old shacks, and heaps of tin cans; a menace to health, a detriment to community prosperity and a sickening waste of potential beauty." In fact, a description of the Westchester County Parks system is strikingly fitting for the new scenic parkway created by Abbott: "Intelligence has been unsparingly employed throughout; but it was flexible, malleable intelligence, as intimately bound up with particular circumstances as a scheme for playing a bridge-hand." This "malleable intelligence," aroused during the 1920Js, helped change a repulsive eye-sore into a model park and parkway system with landscaped motor-ways, rough masonry bridges and overpasses, golf links, swimming pools, beaches, playgrounds, picnic sites, and amusement parks, finally integrated into a thing of beauty and high recreational value. As a result, much that is today considered dis- This cultural and environmental sensitivity had characterized National Park philosophy from its beginning, in Yellowstone National Park. The man who is credited with helping develop the first park roads, General Hiram M. Chittenden, also fathered the dictum which has ever since guided road construction in our national parks: "All park roads must lie lightly upon the land." So, in 1933, under the social and political pressures of the Great Depression, a road "lying lightly upon the land" was to prove to be one of the most unique and most enduring of curative projects undertaken among a variety of responses. Historically, the proposal to construct a scenic highway linking the Shenandoah National Park with the 6 Section of page from landscaping development master plan. �tinctly characteristic of the Blue Ridge Parkway had its genesis in the Westchester County program, where engineers and landscape architects had pioneered the principles of parkway construction. Instead of revamping old existing roadways they took new routes, closed them to commercial traffic, bought wide strips on both sides of the route to insulate it from undesirable development, cleaned up the river scene and adjacent countryside with sod and plantings, and incorporated controlled concession operations and parks throughout the system to eliminate shoddy hotdog stands and other tourist traps. These accomplishments were fresh in Stanley W. Abbott's mind when he was assigned this task of creating a five hundred mile scenic highway out of land that had felt the ravages of misuse for many years. The lack of pristine, park-like conditions along the route was vividly illustrated by one of Abbott's earliest reports: "Few of the show places of the parkway environs remain in an unspoiled natural state. The predominance of cut-over forests, cultivated farm land, and the commer- cialization of the few protected scenic types have greatly reduced the recreation values. There is a total absence of natural lakes and the muddy condition of the streams and rivers in all seasons due to erosion has nullified the outstanding beauty of these water features. This general condition emphasizes the need for public purchase and restoration if this area is to regain its one time attractiveness." "Public purchase and restoration" were key ingredients in the Parkway story. The states through which the route ran were obligated to purchase all necessary lands and donate them to the Federal government for necessary construction and scenic restoration. Before this could be achieved, however, there came a mighty struggle to determine the general location of the Parkway. Original projection had proclaimed that Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee would share relatively equal portions of it, every mile involving precious construction and employment funds as well as continuing income from tourism. Thus, location of the route became highly politicized, with each state earnestly seeking maximum mileage, as demonstrated by the zealous pursuit of the route by North Carolina. To help settle the squabble, Abbott and Gilmore D. Clarke were assigned the task of evaluating all possible routes and making recommendations. Both men came from Westchester County Parks program, and Clarke had recommended Abbott for the new parkway position. Over a five month period, working very closely with Thomas C. Vint, Chief Architect of the National Park Service, they analyzed all proposed routes, then filed their findings and recommendations with the Director of the National Park Service on June 8, 1934. Abbott's report provides an intriguing insight into his earliest thinking about the Parkway. In his opening statement he declared that several attitudes could be taken as to the primary purposes of the project, including; 1. Movement of traffic between parks. 2. Scenic character of the roadside. 3. Recreational advantages enroute. 4. Economic influence. While stressing that the relative importance of each of these factors would vitally affect the whole question of location, he also felt that one set of requirements might place the location entirely in the mountains whereas another might place it entirely in the broad valleys. He then listed four possibilities: "1. The primary purpose of the Parkway could well be the movement of traffic in a fast, pleasant route, by-passing the centers of population. Laborers from Works Progress Administration and other depression era programs performed much of the hand work necessary to build and landscape the Parkway. �00 WESTCHESTER COUNTY PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZATION 1932 �SYSTEM ON DESIGN OF BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY The Westchester County Park System (see map at right) greatly influenced the early design and the ultimate look of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Several names from the organization chart on the opposite page appear on similar charts for the Blue Ridge Parkway. Of particular note is the name Stanley W. Abbott, listed in the Public Information box. Though only a young man, he became the first Resident Landscape Architect and Acting Superintendent of the Blue Ridge Parkway. When he accepted his duties as the Landscape Architect for the Parkway, he brought with him a willingness to experiment and expand on this new idea of a rural parkway. / *^ ^^^^^^ ^^~-^~" X <> ""tcC* PARKS, PARKWAYS c RESERVATIONS jg OF * WESTCHESTER COUNTY PARK SYSTEM 3 * r.MVMWrtu CouNry PARK G»MM»?SION BHOKXVIU.E NEW YORK Jimr, 1032 9 �Comparing the bridges of the Westchester County Parks System with those of the Blue Ridge Parkway demonstrates many similarities. In these two sets of drawings, the bridges for the Hutchinson River Parkway in Westchester County are on the left, and those for some Blue Ridge Parkway bridges are on the right. The single arch bridges on the top of both pages resemble each other closely. The primary difference is in the profile of the top edges. The one on the right shows a smooth line from end to end. Compare it to the drawing at top left. Different perspectives of the same bridges appear at the bottom of the pages, taken from opposite sides and at different times. Again, there are clear similarities in appearance in corresponding photographs. These photographs also portray clearly the effect of landscape architecture around the bridge approaches. The middle photograph was taken twenty years earlier than the one on the bottom, after the landscape architects had worked their magic. 10 �Twin arch bridge at milepost 215.8, near Cumberland Knob, Va. Photograph taken early 1950's. Twin arch bridge at milepost 215.8, near Cumberland Knob, Va. Photograph taken August 1974. 11 �million visitors annually would derive enjoyment from that mountain parkway! The route proposed by Stanley Abbott deliberately avoided the monotony of driving 500 miles of ridgeline. Instead it utilized slopes and valleys to contrast with the portions along the ridges. 2. If the Parkway were to be primarily a scenic route it would be desirable to connect and make available all the outstanding scenic areas within the region concerned. 3. If recreation were the dominant purpose, it would be desirable to locate the route near the areas of greatest recreational value. 4. The location of such a project might well be undertaken with a view of raising the economic value of a certain region." Keeping in mind that it was, first of all, a park-to-park connector, he declared that the Parkway should be as "directional as possible consistent with its location in interesting territory." This was to insure that the traveler would have a sense of directon toward his destination, plus sensing that he was traveling on the shortest line between two parks. Abbott also emphasized that the Parkway would have to include not only a high standard of design but a variety of scenic, historical, and native interest features. To achieve this, he stated, "The location of the road, therefore, in combined woodlands, over rolling hill, along small creeks, in the broader river valley, as well as in varied relationship to the mountains is desirable. . . . Similarly, it will be helpful to introduce historical features and occasional pictures of the native country life." 12 Based upon these criteria, he and his colleagues offered their recommendation that "the Virginia-North Carolina-Tennessee route, which would begin at Shenandoah Park, pass by the Peaks of Otter, the Pinnacles of Dan, Grandfather Mountain, cross to the Unakas and on to the Great Smokies, be selected." This was basically a mountain route utilizing ridges, slopes, and valleys, which, Abbott emphasized, was not an actual skyline drive, but rather one which deliberately avoided a route that clung to the ridgeline the entire way on the premise that the traveler would soon become satiated with the skyline views. He contended that "a mountain or skyline road is distinctly a type to be developed within a park such as Shenandoah National Park and the idea is not adaptable in this region to a 500 mile park to park connection." Nevertheless, he and Vint, recommended that careful consideration be given to a valley route before a final decision was made on the recommended mountain location. Such routing, they pointed out, would be more direct, less expensive, have better alignment, could better serve through passenger traffic, and could provide easy access to scenic attractions along the way. One of their strong arguments in favor of the valley route was the fear that there would not be sufficient traffic on the mountain parkway to justify the expense of construction. They, of course, had no way of knowing that half a century later some twenty While developing his routing recommendations, Abbott had discovered a major difference between his park-to-park project and the Westchester County park system: politicians would openly intervene and wield masterful influences upon the former whereas the Westchester program had been remarkably free from political interference. In fact, both of Abbott's recommendations— the valley route and a VirginiaNorth Carolina-Tennessee route— were quickly disregarded because of political influences so powerful that they reached all the way to the White House. After much debate, lobbying, and political infighting, the proposed parkway was routed, by decree of Secretary Ickes, solely through Virginia and North Carolina, leaving Tennessee with zero mileage and much resentment. Thus, Abbott began his program with a strike-out, though no fault of his, and it was not to be the last time that his recommendation would be ignored in favor of another because of political intervention. On the positive side, the five months Abbott spent in exploring and analyzing the potentially acceptable routes thoroughly familarized him with the climate, geography, topography, natural history, and cultural atmosphere of his new domain. He was greatly impressed by the changing topography, the mountains "becoming larger and steeper," the sharp escarpments and broad plateaus, and with what he called the "heroic" mountains at the south end of the Parkway. The variety and magnitude of developmental possibilities exhilarated his landscape oriented mind, moving him to declare that he couldn't "imagine a more creative job than locating the Blue Ridge Parkway because you worked with a ten-league canvas and brush of a comet's tail." He also became convinced that he had embarked upon a mission entirely new to the National Park Service, a novel sort of conservation program in which he was to develop, in his words, "a museum of managed American countryside." �Of all aspects in the Blue Ridge Parkway's development Abbott's concept of "managed American countryside" was to indelibly brand every mile of the Parkway. Keenly aware that the only similarity between the five hundred miles under his charge and the other national park units, such as Yellowstone and Grand Canyon National Parks, was that they both were administered by the Department of the Interior, he also knew that by act of Congress, areas accepted and established as national parks had to possess sufficient natural beauty and environmental uniqueness to merit inclusion as a "national jewel." He was well aware, too, that the acreage which finally became the Blue Ridge Parkway, if judged solely on natural beauty and uniqueness, would never have qualified for national park status. Only the economic emergency of the Great Depression brought those acres under the guardianship of the National Park Service. Of equal significance was his concept of a managed countryside, which led to conversion of five hundred miles of ordinary countryside into a thing of eye-catching beauty. To achieve this feat he had to prescribe landscape development programs which must have brought furrowed brows to the old time National Park Service administrators, who would never have dreamed of, nor tolerated, timber-stand improvement, use of tons of seeds and fertilizers, agricultural leases, scenic easements, or massive soil improvement programs for their parks. Yet all of these and other landscape improvement practices became commonplace on the Parkway, resulting in a rural federal roadside most worthy of inclusion in the National Park system. One of the charges under which the landscape architects operated was that of retaining the rural quality of the Parkway picture. This necessitated an all important study of the entire acreage to determine the most fruitful use of all lands within the park boundary. Out of the study evolved what the landscape architects called "PLUMS," meaning "Parkway Land Use Maps." Every section of the route was given detailed attention on the maps. Not only was the proposed landscape treatment entered thereon but so were property lines, owners of adjoining lands, proposed land use, and similar data so essential to the architect and planner. The details required much research but Abbott provided it, feeling that prescribed land use was the key to Parkway distinctiveness. Thus, as Abbott entered into the task of applying landscape magic to his novel undertaking, he was breaking new ground and daily pioneering. This he reflected in an early annual report: "Since its inception the Blue Ridge Parkway has been recognized by the Service as a pio- neer project of a scale and character new to the National Park Service and new as well to the field of recreational planning. In the broadest phases of the work there has been little benefit of precedent. There has been an unusual need for thoughtful prediction of the manner in which, as well as to the extent to which, the facility will be used." The notion of a "Federal Parkway" was not completely new when the Blue Ridge proposal was made in the fall of 1933. Official definition of the concept was developed by A.E. Demaray, Associate Director of the Abbott proposed a "managed American countryside." He felt it was important to retain the rural flavor of the Parkway along this recreational drive. 13 �National Park Service, on April 14, 1933, in a radio address over WMAL, Washington, B.C. After pointing out that the first such legislation, enacted May 23, 1928, providing for the Mount Vernon Memorial Highway, and two years later for both the George Washington Memorial Parkway and the Colonial National Parkway linking Williamsburg and Jamestown, had authorized landscape development, ornamental structures, planting of shrubbery and shade trees and parking facilities, he felt precedent was established. His definition states: "The parkway, or elongated park, is a road or highway on standards suited to heavy continuous travel of the recreational type, with its roadsides so insulated as to give the motorist over it the impression of being out in the great open spaces, far from industrial or other commercial developments. This is accomplished by providing for a minimum rightof-way of 800 feet through which the road will pass, with no billboards, hotdog stands, gas stations, or other structures which would be in the nature of eyesores." 14 All commercial traffic would be barred. The significant difference between earlier models and what Abbott, as Resident Landscape Architect, had to be concerned about in planning the Blue Ridge Parkway, was that the previous parkways were relatively short, lay on flat land, and were distinctly suburban in character. Hence, they were of little help to him in designing a five hundred mile rural mountainous parkway. For him and his colleagues, the time had arrived for planning. A TIME TO PLAN Actual planning and landscape designing for the Parkway were officially initiated December 26, 1933, when Thomas C. Vint, Chief Architect, Branch of Plans and Design, National Park Service, designated Major Gilmore D. Clarke as consulting landscape architect and Stanley W. Abbott as resident landscape architect. In April, 1934, they were joined by Edward H. Abbuehl and H.E. van Gelder, each holding the rank of assistant landscape architect. Abbuehl was assigned to reconnaissance and flagging for the North Carolina portion and van Gelder was given a similar task in Virginia. Parkway Headquarters were established in the Shenandoah Life Insurance Building in Roanoke, Virginia, where the Bureau of Public Roads also maintained a headquarters office. Abbott also planned for field offices to be distributed along the entire Parkway with a landscape architect assigned to each development project. Perhaps the greatest challenge confronting Abbott and his colleagues was the coordination of effort resulting from a long standing agreement between the Secretary of Agriculture and the Secretary of the Interior which provided that all major road construction in national park areas was to be done by the Bureau of Public Roads. This teamwork served as a prototype for all subsequent efforts of its kind. Not only did the �landscape architects have to initially design subject to approval by Abbott's counterpart at BPR, William A. Austin, Resident Engineer, but they also had to cooperate with and coordinate the wishes and demands of politicians, highway commissions, and engineers representing the interests of the two states through which the Parkway construction was scheduled. The intricate and time-consuming tasks of reconnaissance, surveying, right-ofway acquisition, design and layout, drawing up specifications for contracts, putting out and evaluating bids, supervising construction, landscaping, and final acceptance of each completed contract required inordinate measures of coordination, patience, and forbearance. Every item considered, from the form a guard rail would possess to whether there should be swimming pools on the Parkway, had to routinely make the bureaucratic circle from the field to Abbott, to the Regional Director, to the Director, and sometimes to the Secretary of the Interior, and then back down the line. Abbott, recalling this in 1943, said, "I often remember how one outsider said early in the days of the Parkway that the project would surely fall of its own weight. It has not fallen and perhaps that is the best witness to the Service's excellence in handling the situation." Much credit for the "Service's excellence" centered in the tactful administrative skill of the Resident Landscape Architect. That his task was frequently an excruciating one is revealed in a confidential memorandum he filed with the Regional Director: "I doubt that in the whole history of federal public works there could be found an agency which has collaborated more wholeheartedly, more patiently, more selflessly, and more broad-mindedly than the National Park Service. The ejfort has not been returned in kind," Even so, Abbott was aware that major failures of cooperation were, more often than not, due to inability of non-Park Service individuals to fully appreciate the unique distinction between a federal parkway and an ordinary public highway, whether they represented the Bureau of Public Roads or state officials. None of the available evidence indicates any malicious intent, no matter how severe were the differences in opinion. For example, in determining the design of the Parkway around Roanoke, Virginia, the National Park Service designed that section to be built on the same standards and design as the rest of the Parkway. The Bureau of Public Roads, however, was adamant in supporting a four-lane route around Roanoke with the precise intent that eventu- �ally the four-lane portion would be integrated into a beltway system around the city, open to all kinds of through traffic. Abbott declared such a proposition as out "of character, unnecessary as a practical matter, and tremendously costly." His successor was bolder in his condemnation and flatly called the proposition, "Stupid!" In similar manner, the Bureau proposed that a section of the Parkway near Deep Gap, N.C., at Mile Post 281, be merged with United States Highway 421 for a few miles. The National Park Service again vigorously objected that such a mixing of commercial and recreational traffic was out of character, infeasible, and totally contrary to federal parkway philosophy. The influence of the Chief of Design and the Director of the National Park Service were sufficient, eventually, to sustain Abbott's views and to prohibit integration of Parkway and commercial traffic. The compromise can be seen today, as Parkway and Highway 421 traffic run a brief, but parallel course. In the meanwhile, all the planning activities were running their normal course, including reconnaissance— the spying out of the land with an architect's sense of aesthetics, direction, variety, and culture. An early report by H.E. van Gelder, reconnoitering the Virginia countryside, portrays the criteria which guided him in determining the Parkway's location: "It is difficult for the Landscape Architect to share the Engineer's paramount interest in easy grades. For a purely scenic driveway, iii my opinion, the controlling features for location would come in this order: 4. Easy grades—remembering that for modern pleasure cars steep grades have very little objection. Where alignment can be improved by steepening the grade, I would give preference to the alignment." His landscape architect schooling came through vividly in his summary statement: "In general, when locating the road, more consideration should be given to the possibilities of fitting it into the landscape with a minimum of big cuts and fills because on a road built for scenic beauty, if engineering requirements should demand a complete defacement of the countryside, enjoyment of the drive would be much impaired." Abbott's advice to his staff emphasized that "variety is the spice of the Parkway," and urged that the basic reason for the Parkway's existence was to please by revealing the charm and interest of the native American countryside. Many years later, while reminiscing about that period, he declared, "We and the engineers together just drilled and drilled, all of us, on the business of following a mountain stream for awhile, then climbing upon the slope of a hill pasture, then dipping down into the open bottom lands and back into the woodlands." Van Gelder evidently listened well. His reconnaissance reports are replete with recommendations calculated to fulfill Abbott's desires. Sometimes his proposed center line was on the spine of the ridge with a "great view of the Shenandoah Valley," or through some open meadows—"a fine high spot." On the negative side, he counseled avoidance of a "rather shabby group of little farms." And, conscious of the need for cultural interpretation, he once proposed that the acreage he was surveying be acquired to interpret the story of Appalachian logging operations. Spotting a denuded and eroded farm he suggested it be acquired and reclaimed for nature. His thoughtful analysis resulted in recommendations of this kind: "I would like to see the line even higher up on the hill. Views are rather obstructed by woods on the lower line," or "From here south for nearly three miles, the ridge is all clear, rocky meadows. Sweeping views in both directions everywhere." At the same time, in North Carolina, Abbuehl was reporting that "We have some excellent skyline locations with fine views—best in the country. There are some valley sections varying from the swift mountain stream type to the heavy wooded thicket, and the broad, open 1. To reach the points of greatest beauty—which no doubt are the open, level spaces on the tops of the ridges, with their wonderful views, invigorating atmosphere and great recreational values. 2. Good alignment—which is generally more easily obtained by rising to higher elevations, above the gullies. 3. A minimum of defacement of the natural mountainside—which means keeping off the steep slopes. 16 Mabry Mill was one of the "must save" features of the Blue Ridge Parkway. �Rocky Knob Gas Station as originally proposed. fertile cultivated valley." He confessed that there was also some "very mediocre stuff" but contended that the landscape architects had made the best of what the country offered, assuring Abbott that, "There will be some thrills for the public." He also verified that his assignment had its headaches: "Five different lines have been flagged, each of which have some objections. Mr. Brownell, location engineer, and I have spent so much time in this sector trying to make something out of it without any success that I don't think either of us would like anything there now, even if it was good." Breath-taking views and prime locations were not the only concerns of the landscape architects. The salvation and preservation of such Parkway architectural favorites as Mabry Mill and Brinegar Cabin were promoted by the reports forwarded to headquarters by van Gelder, Abbuehl, and later associates. Their knowing eyes and culturally sensitive minds made possible their supervisor's desire to "please by revealing the charm and interest of the native American countryside." Like a gathering of eagles, the arrival of Abbuehl and van Gelder was soon augmented by others. Among the early staffers were Lynn M. Harris, assistant landscape architect, who transferred from the Shenandoah National Park; George W. Wickstead, junior landscape architect, assigned to drafting development maps; Thomas G. Heaton, junior landscape architect, for work on bridge grading and design; Foster M. Warwick, junior landscape architect, transferred from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park; C.R. Alt, junior landscape architect, from Grand Tetons National Park; and Robert F. Elliott, junior landscape architect from the Great Smokies. Throughout the following months landscape architects kept arriving and were immediately assigned special tasks. For example, in March, 1936, Malcolm A. Bird, assistant landscape architect, was transferred from Gatlinburg and placed in charge of Parkway landscape planting design and field work, and Albert S. Burns, junior landscape architect, reported on July 24, 1936, to take pictures of Parkway activities. Ralph W. Emerson, assistant landscape architect, came on April 2, 1936, for special work on a new master development plan. Along with the new staffers came another development which, although not even mentioned in the early months of publicity, quickly became one of the most predominant and most distinctive features of the entire Parkway: the birth of a series of recreational parks scattered through the length of the route. This addition offered so much versatility and beauty that Abbott described them as "beads on a string—the rare gems in the necklace." He considered them absolutely essential to his objective of planning "and developing a complete tourist facility of unusual scale and character," comparable to the Westchester county parks, proclaiming that the very nature of the Parkway invited leisurely driving with frequent stops by the vacationer. Hence, he said, it was questionably desirable to meet the vacationer's needs by setting aside worthwhile areas with facilities for camping, picnicking, hiking, horseback riding, golfing, fishing, CONTINUED ON PAGE 22 17 �DIVERSITY Designed as a 470 mile long road to be driven at leisure, the Blue Ridge Parkway was planned to offer scenic beauty and pleasure. To insure that those who visited it would not become bored with monotonous repetition of the same thing mile upon mile, Stanley Abbott planned diversity into the route the Parkway took and into the man made features of the Park. For example, the landscape included ... Farmland Tree lined corridors ... Rock walls 18 �and bridges of wood, concrete ... and steel. Variety was planned into everything. 19 �BEFORE Looking at the Parkway today it is often hard to visualize the task which confronted the architects of this scenic wonder. They contended with overworked, often eroded landscape as well as dense forests where no road had gone before. The photographs on this page are representative of what confronted the first landscape architects. 20 �AFTER On this page are photographs taken from approximately the same location as those on the opposite page. However, for over forty years, the hand of the builder and the touch of nature, both guided by the park's landscape architects, have worked magic on the land. 21 �Irish Creek, Pine Spur, Rocky Knob, Cumberland Knob, Gilam Gap, and the Cascades. By 1939 the number of proposed parks had jumped to nineteen. Among the new additions were Lick Log, Smart View, Fisher Peak, Tomkins Knob, Linville Falls, Mount Pisgah, and Richland Balsam. For a variety of political and other reasons, Irish Creek, Gilam Gap, the Pinnacles of Dan, and Natural Bridge were deleted. The master plan included four supporting components with respect to recreation parks: 1. Conservation of natural scenery. 2. Facilities for active recreation augmenting the passive enjoyment of the motorway itself. 3. Provision of food, lodging, and motor service in an attractive manner where it is not available. The above portion of an early campground sign plan illustrates the detail which landscape architects use to assure a complete appearance. CONTINUED FROM PAGE 17 and swimming. Carefully planned, these areas would be cardinal elements in rounding out the total usefulness of the Parkway. In addition to providing on-site recreation, he envisioned the satellite parks as a base for side trips to points of interest beyond the Parkway boundaries. He sought the inclusion of amenities including lodges, campgrounds, camp stores, and motor vehicle services, at strategic locations along the route. By October 1, 1934, the idea had prompted special studies and proposals which climaxed December 15,1934, in a concise report and master plan by Abbott, integrating the parks into the Parkway proper. The report and master plan were strongly supported by the Chief of Design, the Director of the National Park Service, and the Secretary of the Interior. The areas recommended for park status were divided into "major" and "minor" units. In the former category were Natural Bridge, Peaks of Otter, Pinnacles of Dan and the Bluff. The minor units were Humpback Rocks, 22 4. Utility buildings for maintenance and operation of the parks and the Parkway. Original plans for the Parkway had called only for right-of-way sufficient to construct a motorway. Adding the parks required additional acquisition of thousands of acres of land—land which Virginia and North Carolina were not obligated to buy. Abbott's office made an exten- sive field study of possible acreage for recreational park purposes, and identified some 90,000 desirable acres, less than half of which was United States Forest Service land. About 50,000 of those acres required other means of acquisition. Again, time and season richly served the Parkway since one of the New Deal relief programs, the Resettlement Administration, had recently devised a program for purchasing submarginal land and recycling it back to nature. Abbott learned of the program, filed required applications, made the right contacts, and in October, 1935, received an initial grant of $103,000 for acquisition and development of park projects in Virginia and $81,000 for those in North Carolina. These Resettlement Administration funds and submarginal land thus provided the Parkway with such popular leisure parks as Rocky Knob and Cumberland Knob. Each park offered a dual role for the Parkway, scenic pleasure coupled with much needed employment. Park inclusion was determined by some unique feature a site possessed: Humpback Mountain because of the spectacular view it provided of the Virginia valleys; Peaks of Otter for geological features and its fascinating 360 degree panorama; the Bluffs because it was "typical of the high grass pastureland" and also Notice the short drives to individual picnic tables in the drawing below. More recent plans include few drives, reflecting a change of attitudes and costs. �suitable for recreation such as golfing. Abbott's master plan for the parks offered a broad spectrum recreational scheme including golf courses, swimming facilities, and horseback riding. Certain National Park Service officials successfully vetoed Abbott on these as out of character with the Parkway's objectives, deeming trails for hiking, picnicking grounds, camping sites, and parking overlooks sufficient to provide for visitor needs. Today's Parkway provides neither golfing, swimming, nor horseback riding facilities. One of the tasks that Abbott and his staff worked at most diligently, which often met with frustrating delays was the means of providing food, lodging, and visitor services at strategic intervals. The remoteness of many of the Parkway areas and the general lack of visitor accomodations along the way had convinced them that it was mandatory to integrate such services into their master plan. This concept was readily approved by the Service, but two problems still arose: securing competent, acceptable concessionaires and the design of concession units which would blend aesthetically with the Parkway. After many months of diligent appeals a first concessionaire was obtained, National Parks Concessions, Inc., and was installed in a building at Cumberland Knob which artfully emulated the better mountain architecture. With its opening the first recreational park was fully operational. Meanwhile, classic trail shelters and more concession buildings were being designed, including proposed "tea-houses" and lodges. The lodge at Doughton Park is a good example of the landscape architect's touch on the Parkway. It was designed shortly after World War II ended, CONTINUED ON PAGE 28 Part of the work performed by landscape architects included detailed drawings of historic structures to maintain their original appearance. 23 �Building concept plan The work of the landscape architect is truly an art form. The illustration on this and the next three pages support this statement. Ideas must be put on paper for others, such as engineers, to see what the finished work should look like. These ideas on paper are often as worthy of framing as the pen and ink works of an artist. The land is the landscape architect's canvas. On it he blends objects of nature and man much as an artist brushes color on canvas. Like a sculptor, he carves here, builds up there, plants a tree here and a bush there, and ends up with something of beauty and function. Drawing to show how a tunnel entrance should look Drawing for a pedestrian underpass 24 �ART FROM THE LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT A bridge inserted into the environment without disturbing the scene Like a sculptor's statue, the man made structures of the Parkway represent the result of a design which began in the mind of an artist, the landscape architect. Unlike the sculptor, however, the architect's ideas are translated into their finalform by others. Engineers must design and build the structures and someone must maintain them. All through this process the landscape architect acts as a guide. Within the boundaries of the Parkway a road was built. Campgrounds and picnic areas were constructed; visitor centers and other structures were placed upon the land. The challenge was to maintain a look so natural that it would be hard to tell where the builder left off and where nature began. Another bridge built to blend with the natural scene. Notice how the supports begin to blend into the trees. Log guard rails blend the road along Rocky Knob Picnic Area with the land so well that it is hard to see unless you're on it. 25 �Engineers placed the Linn Cove Viaduct so well that much of the natural setting passed under it. From the Parkway's beginning until its completion, bridges have been faced with stone to maintain a more natural beauty, with few exceptions. Masonry in early years was used in a manner that would allow the visitor on foot to see its beauty blending into the land. At Buck Creek Gap overpass, near Crab tree Meadows, North Carolina, the road appears to underline the scenic beauty, then point to more. 26 �Models were created in the early years to show how construction would look when finished. This model of a stone culvert demonstrates how completely landscape architects planned for a scenic roadway. Even roadside gutters were works of art. Many of these gutters may still be seen along the middle sections of the Parkway, (above left) Signs have been shaped into things of beauty by the landscape architect, (above right) Man's historic effect on the beauty of this scenic road was artfully worked into the completed plan. 27 �and according to one architect's opinion, 'The original design looked exactly like a World War II barracks." Luckily, that design was replaced by one that provided the present day unit which blends so attractively with its surroundings. Simultaneously, the Bureau of Public Roads was making a contribution which greatly expedited the work of its sister agency landscape architects and all others involved in Parkway projects. To improve precision and coordination of planning, design, and administration, the entire Parkway was divided into two sections. The Virginia section was labeled "Section 1" and the North Carolina portion "Section 2," after which each section was divided into alphabetical subsections. To prevent typographical errors, the labels "1-1" and "l-O" were not used, nor were "2-1" or "2-O." The alphabet was threaded by moving southward so that "Section 1-A" linked the Shenandoah National Park to the Parkway whereas "Section 2-Z" linked the Parkway with the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This simple but effective mechanism became an invaluable planning and maintenance tool, uniquely distinct to the Parkway. Two innovations, the mile post markers and the logo design, added charm and utility for future Parkway travelers. Mile post markers, an ancient idea reapplied, similar to those installed centuries ago by the Romans, and recently by modern railroads, were prescribed and gradually put in place throughout the Parkway. Mile "0" began at the junction with the Shenandoah National Park and Mile "469" marked the merger with Great Smoky Mountains National Park. These markers proved invaluable, not only to the traveler, but to the park ranger and park administrator. The second innovation was the design of a simple but captivating logo to vividly represent the Parkway. Abbott, Abbuehl, Lynn Harris, and others discussed various approaches and numerous designs. The climax Land use maps were used to plan or record much of the Parkway's route. 28 of their brainstorming was a combination of mountain peaks, an open sky, a tall wind-swept white pine, and a swath of the motor-road—all enclosed in a circle. Later, the words "Blue Ridge Parkway" were added around the rim of the circle. Thus the currently familiar logo became a vital part of the Parkway story. Another concept, which began with little fanfare but blossomed into a most significant Parkway entity, was "Scenic Easement," the landscape architect's device for controlling the visual boundaries of the Parkway without owning them. From the very beginning anxiety and concern centered around the small right-ofway, at first 200 feet and later 800 feet, affording an inadequate shelter belt. To fortify that vital strip, the scenic easement program was created, whereby, in the land acquisition process, the State made arrangements with the land owner. In return for a one-time financial consideration, said landowners agreed to perpetual restrictions upon the use of their land. Virginia's �Scenic Easement Act, March 12, 1936, clearly sets forth those restrictions: • "The term scenic easement shall mean the easement or right of the Commonwealth of Virginia or of its assigns, the United States of America (in cases where said easement is assigned or conveyed to the United States), to restrict the use of any and all lands covered by or subject to said easement so that the owner or owners of said land or any part thereof, or their assigns shall not have the privilege or right: (1) to erect or authorize the erection thereon of any buildings, pole, pole line or other structure; (2) to construct thereon any private drive or road; (3) to require the Commonwealth of Virginia or its assigns to construct any access road or drive thereon; (4) to remove from or break, cut, injure, or destroy on said land any trees or plants or shrubbery; (5) to place thereon any dumps of ashes, trash, sawdust, or any unsightly or offensive material; (6) to place or display thereon any sign, billboard, or advertisement." That any alert landowner would accept such flagrant restrictions upon his possessions speaks volumes about the time and season of that economically depressed era. The logic used by Abbott and the National Park Service authorities was maintenance of the rural scene—the "managed American countryside." As he explained to the local population in his popular Blue Ridge Parkway News: "The general idea behind the scenic easement is simple enough. It allows the farmer to use the land for farming and prevents his using it for other business. The reason behind it from our point of view is that we want the farms as part of the picture and we do not want factories or hotdog stands or billboards. It means that the land has been earmarked for farm use. This is like town zoning, which guarantees to a man who has just built a house that a factory will not be built on the next lot." This explanation may have sufficed for the poverty-stricken generation of land-owners Abbott was talking with, but their heirs and assigns who later purchased lands with scenic easement riders have occasionally been shocked and extremely exasperated to discover how binding the scenic easement restrictions became. In the meanwhile, as designed, the rural picture has been maintained. An early entry sign depicting the original Parkway logo. Even single trees warranted the attention of the landscape architect. A TIME TO PROPOSE AND A TIME TO REJECT While these things were evolving, other events were determining the actual location of the Parkway. Among the areas which Abbott wished included in his recreational parks was the geological phenomenon known as Natural Bridge, Virginia. Seeking to provide variety and unique scenic rewards for the traveling public, he proposed that the Parkway route deviate from the Blue Ridge proper at Tye River Gap, veer northward and west to include the Natural Bridge, and then return to the Blue Ridge about five miles west of the Peaks of Otter. Abbott characterized the Bridge as "a scenic reservation at which the traveler would stop for observation," providing a type of recreation found nowhere else on the Parkway. He also proposed acquisiton of about five hundred acres, including the Bridge and its allied tourist facilities. All of it was to be converted into a "public reservation" with upgraded food, lodging, swimming, and golfing accomodations—very similar to what was contained in the Westchester County system. The proposal not only offered relief from continuous mountain driving but also afforded a most unique "watering place" experience. Nevertheless, the fate of Abbott's recommendation was recorded in one sentence in his first annual report: "Senator Glass of Virginia protested the deviation from the crest line by way of 29 �the Peaks of Otter and accordingly the Secretary of the Interior announced on July 25, 1935, that the original mountain location would be followed." In that same year, Abbott, the National Park Service, the Bureau of Public Roads, and the State of North Carolina attempted to establish the Parkway location through the Cherokee Indian reservation. At issue were location, width of right-of-way, scenic easement, and access rights, especially in the village of Cherokee, a major tourist destination. The Indians wished to grant only a narrow right-of-way, on a location of their choosing, from Soco Gap through Cherokee, flatly rejecting scenic easement. Abbott and the Service, on the other hand, recommended that the Parkway run through the village on a separate roadbed, insulated from regular traffic, with no frontage privileges. They also took the position that if the Indians remained adamant the Parkway should be terminated at Soco Gap. Ensuing conferences repeatedly ended in stalemates. Seeking an alternative, Abbott proposed that the Parkway run from Balsam Gap to Sylva, then down the Tuckaseegee River and enter Cherokee via the Oconoluftee River. Months of delicate and frustrating negotiations finally ended with the State of North Carolina working out acquisitions which, on a completely new route, by-passed the village of Cherokee and connected the Parkway with the Smokies at Ravensford. Again Abbott and the landscape architects were bested by political considerations. ing, and support, he instituted the Blue Ridge Parkway Newsletter, a small mimeographed sheet. It was hand-delivered to country stores and similar public gathering spots along the Parkway and quickly proved popular. "What is a Parkway?," giving readers a layman's definition of "parkway" and stressing the need to safeguard the natural beauty of the region so that both local residents and their visitors could perpetually enjoy that beauty; In the first issue, November, 1937, Abbott established a sincere, cordial tone which remained through the life of the News: "We wish it were possible to have a long talk over the fence with each one of you in the manner of all good neighbors. With 500 miles to cover you can readily see that it is a real task and it may be some time before we can shake hands with all of you. We still have that in mind, but, meanwhile, we have hit upon the idea of this paper." "Scenic Easments: Your Rights and Ours," in which, speaking to answer the farmer who said, "I own the land and I don't," Abbott admitted that "he is right but he makes it sound worse than need be." Then came the previously quoted explanation of the reasoning behind the scenic easement program, with an emphasis upon the benefits accruing to both parties; Like the good mentor that he was, he used issue after issue to inform his neighbors about Parkway matters and to share his philosophy and that of the Service. Topics included the following: • "Woodlands along the Parkway," featuring the scenic value of trees and urging owners to manage them wisely both for their benefit and that of the thousands of visitors who were soon coming; "For the Enjoyment of All," a charming essay rebutting the rumor that the Parkway was a "rich man's road" and that the local people would not be welcome to use it. Greatly perturbed, Abbott declared, "Nothing could be farther from the truth. The Blue Ridge Parkway will be opened for the use and enjoyment of all the Nation alike, whether they live within a stone's throw of the road itself or whether they come from the far corners of the United States." A TIME TO INFORM AND A TIME TO SHARE Closely tied in with the preceding events was another innovation, something traditional, yet very new. The National Park Service routinely made it a policy to keep the public informed of its work. Thus the Parkway's Resident Landscape Architect inherited an additional job, that of public information officer. This he partially accomplished via the traditional media of press and conferences. But none of these, in his opinion, reached the audience whose support he yearned for—the mountain neighbors of the Parkway. To get their attention, understand30 Triple arch bridge over the Linville River, North Carolina. �Other commentaries, over a five year period, dealt with such topics as soil conservation, fire control, wild life habitat, and the leasing program. These warm-hearted, friendly bits of news, information, and philosophy served as strong mortar to bond the interests of the Parkway with those of its neighbors and helped the Parkway become a five hundred mile long community. A TIME TO GATHER STONES TOGETHER Closely integrated with all other activities were the daily tasks of planning and designing for every undertaking. Therein lay the matrix for every bridge, sign, guard rail, picnic table, trail, parking overlook, building—everything that the Service was to place on the Parkway. Each item required numerous drafts, revisions, reviews, and approvals, as well as close supervision during construction. The landscape architect's office daily accumulated new drafts and blueprints, each coded and numbered, keyed into Service standards. To every mile of the route the healing, rehabilitating, and beautifying touch of the landscape architect was applied. Out of that touch would come recreational, social, and economic changes sufficient to alter the entire mountain region through which it ran. The dominant theme in all of this was Abbott's guiding star; "Marry beauty to utility." Everything had to blend, to mold together to merge with the existing features to fulfill the prescribed objective of establishing a "museum of managed countryside." The Linville River bridge amply illustrates the concept. It was designed not simply to bridge a river but to become part of the total recreational program, artfully demonstrating the landscape architect's use of native stone to enhance the engineer's utilitarian bridge. Here again, the influence of the Westchester Park system is evident: present all along the Parkway are concrete bridges, bridge abutments, tunnel portals, and over-passes cleverly hidden by an outer-facing of native, rough-cut stones, a tribute not only to the Westchester model but to the fact that the Chief of De- Man made dam and falls at Otter Creek, Virginia. sign and Chief Architect, Thomas C. Vint, firmly believed that nude concrete was lacking in aesthetics. This vital sense of aesthetics had a most interesting accompaniment in the Parkway's "gathering of stones." The landscape architects studied the use native mountaineers had made of local stone, as in their chimneys, and attempted to emulate that use, even specifiying that any stone used would have to come from within a certain distance of the road. Ironically, when it came time to convert that native stone into the masonry requirements of the architect, it was necessary to seek out Spanish and Italian immigrant stone masons, like one Joe Troitino, to do the work. One of the most unusual stone masonry achievements on the entire project had to do with Abbott's fascination with water as a landscape medium. Recalling the use the Westchester Parks had made of water resources, he deliberately routed the road alongside streams and was saddened by the lack of natural lakes along the way. One of the landscaping remedies for that lack is visible in the dam which forms Otter Creek Lake. The masonry work is so cleverly contrived that, to the casual eye, the water cascading over the dam seems to flow over Nature's own stones. In gathering together stones, and in practicing the landscape architect's art, it is a remarkable characteristic of the Parkway that "blending" causes many very attractive architectural attraction features to quietly slip by, unnoticed and, therefore, unappreciated. In fact, the "Parkway Underground," the sub-surface features, offer an unheralded architectural attraction worthy of serious attention. For example, to the passing motorist the Linville River bridge appears as simply a nice, utilitarian stream-crosser. But to the lucky hiker and fishermen who pass under it there is displayed a fabulous three arch span reminiscent of those of Rome. The same treat for the keen eye is present at the bridges spanning the James River, the Roanoke River, the Round Meadow, and Goshen Creek, where beauty and utility are merged. A TIME TO PLANT AND A TIME TO SOW Out of the PLUMS land use study mentioned earlier came a pioneering development which is still providing the rural picture so desired by the landscape architects. This was the land leasing program, whereby the Service, once it had rehabilitated land and restored its fertility, leased portions of it to local farmers who put it to traditional agricultural use. Abbott set forth two values he saw in the program: "(1) It will maintain the open character of the country where it is desirable without any considerable maintenance cost to the Federal Government and, (2) It will build up the friendly feeling of the farmer toward the Parkway." A most valuable and delightful bonus came out of the leasing program. It became a CONTINUED ON PAGE 36 31 �By planning... Section from early master plan On-site supervision... Landscape architects carried their work to the field. Here one is seen marking trees to be kept. 32 Special projects... The Mission 66 program rejuvenated the Parkway program after World War II. �HOW IT WAS ACCOMPLISHED Labor programs... The Youth Conservation Corps (YCC) is only the latest of many work projects which helped build the Parkway. Hand labor... The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) provided much of the hand labor necessary to build the early portions of the Parkway. Mule power... Virginia Emergency Relief labor performed much of their work with mule power. Here they are using a drag pan to build a gutter. 33 �CCC enrollees moved many trees used in landscaping the road. North Carolina Emergency Relief labor moved many tons of top soil which was saved for landscaping. WPA workers salvaged sod for later use. 34 �BY USING WHAT WAS THERE 35 �CONTINUED FROM PAGE 31 conservation "better mousetrap," with the leased lands becoming demonstration plots in praise of wise land use. Parkway officials helped in every way possible, providing seed, fertilizer, lime, seedlings, and soil conservation advice. Their attitude was shaped by a simple reality, as expressed ably by one of them: "On the Blue Ridge Parkway a narrow right-of-way makes every phase of conservation very difficult, administratively and physically. Fire, water, plant, and animal life, and even people can hardly be regimented along the 500mile strip of park land. The only solution lies in our ability to make conservationists out of our neighbors by adroit educational schemes." Hence, by example, the conservation theme was widely broadcast: soil improvement practices required of each lease holder spread from Parkway land to his land, and from there to his neighbors. And when the Service treated hundreds of severely eroded acres and made them productive, it posted a highly visible sign to its neighbors to emulate the practice. of adding to Parkway beauty. He also decided to use his first funding of $230,000 to execute the complete landscape plans for a demonstration project on Sections 1-Q and 2-A. Abbott's report to the Director of the National Park Service, 1938, glowed with pride of accomplishment: "Thus far in North Carolina eight miles of general clean-up of dead and downed timber and debris has been accomplished on Section 2-A, five miles of which has been completed as to selective cutting and vista clearing. This first work, in many respects is one of the most spectacular parts of the whole program. Comparisons before and after the work show how much of the natural beauty of the woods and fields have formerly been hidden by the debris, the slash, and especially the suckers or stump growth resulting from careless forestry in the past. Beautiful vistas to the distance, glimpses into the woods and specimen laurel, rhododendron and azalea in the background are often revealed by a slight cutting under judicious supervision." This touch of the landscape architect, "painting with a comet's tail," is the artistic source of the 500 miles of Parkway beauty. Sam P. Weems, Abbott's successor as Parkway Superintendent, made a classic statement about the Service's attitude toward conservation and the local population when he remarked: "Education, still the mightiest weapon of conservation, has, on the Parkway, a strong ally in the noble pride of the mountaineer. . . ." The flowering of that education and the successful modeling of conservation practices today provide the harmonious and eye-pleasing views which greet visitors along the entire route. When the Civilian Conservation Corps enrollees finally arrived they were assigned landscaping duties. One of their most identifiable accomplishments is still at work—the routed wooden signs scattered the length of the roadway. The landscape division designed them to enhance the visitors' cultural awareness and to answer the everrecurring question, "What is that?" Another "CCC" task was "slope Abbott was not disturbed by the urgency of other demands delaying attention to the landscape program, saying, "A program of its type and scale is again a matter of pioneering and for this reason we recognize that the delay has its advantages." Still, two things puzzled him: methodologies for executing the program, and how to best use the initial funding. He became convinced that labor from the Civilian Conservation Corps would best serve his purpose, and requested that seven camps be assigned to him, eventually receiving five. They, along with other emergency workers, did their share Agricultural scene at Adney Gap, Virginia. 36 reduction," flattening slopes which the construction contractor had left too steep to suit the landscape architects. Once flattened those slopes were sodded, seeded, and planted with native materials. Abbott described the program: "The grass seeding and sodding and general landscape planting of 480 miles of Blue Ridge Parkway unquestionably comprises one of the largest programs of its sort ever undertaken in the United States." He also added a most pertinent observation: "Perhaps the most surprising accomplishment of the landscape program is the practical rather than the artistic effect. Warping and rounding parkway fills and cuts has reduced road hazard by eliminating loose overburden and rock, has stabilized slopes and ditches in the most erosive soils and thereby greatly reduced present and future maintenance." Again, the work of landscape architects made utilitarian purpose into beautification. The landscape work was so naturalistically executed that it is difficult to tell today where the landscape architect's work ends and that of Nature begins. The average Parkway traveler is totally unaware that much of the beauty he is enjoying reflects the Aladdin's touch of the landscape architect and the labor of hundreds of relief workers. Abbott, deeply conscious of their contribution, paying them tribute when the coming of World War II closed out the relief agencies, said: "While better controlled than usual, the great earth moving machines have left a rough trail across the mountains, a wayside ravelled with many threads to be caught up. It has been in this reknitting, in the healing �over, and finishing that the emergency programs have made of a mountain highway a mountain parkway. Without such a follow up much would be lost in the Parkway's beauty, and much that makes it practical as well." The Civilian Conservation Corps enrollees were then replaced by several Civilian Public Service camps of Conscientious Objectors, who helped develop Crabtree Meadows and the Peaks of Otter parks. Abbott was not as complimentary about their work. On one occasion, he exhorted them to be conscious of the fact that although they were painting on a small palette they were contributing to a valuable cause—a cause which would bring pleasure to thousands of people in the future. By the time World War II began, the Parkway's landscape development plans were firmly in place and the project was approximately two-thirds complete. When Stanley W. Abbott went off to war in 1943 he and his colleagues had begun "painting the comet's tail," and their aspirations of creating a museum of managed American countryside were becoming a reality. During the war, Parkway construction was placed on hold, since most of its support team departed for war duty. After the war ended, activities supporting project completion were slow to revive, with woefully inadequate funding from Congress. Luckily, a dynamic Service program called Mission 66 came along to arouse new life and new enthusiasm. With it came amphitheaters for interpretive programs, utilitarian visitor centers, lodges, and employee residences. Abbott's yen for the water component was tastefully fulfilled by the construction of a lake named in his honor at the Peaks of Otter. Moreover, Price Lake also came into being as an outstanding example of the landscape architect's skill, with the dam cleverly concealed as a bridge. Another water oriented development was built around the James River canal theme, adding new richness to Abbott's recreational parks. Considering the snail's pace of construction, it is remarkable that for more than fifty years the continuity of philosophy, planning, and landscape management for the Parkway Rocky Knob, Virginia, CCC enrollees laboring on Parkway slopes, Milepost 169,1938. has flowed from the guardianship, hearts, and minds of only four successive Resident Landscape Architects: Stanley W. Abbott, Edward H. Abbuehl, Arthur H. Beyer, and Robert A. Hope. Just as remarkable were their neverfailing abilities to maintain exceptionally good, professional working relationships with their opposites, the Bureau of Public Roads' engineers, such as William Austin, E.G. Middleton, E.J. Woodrow, F.W. Kron, Charles Kinney, Col. W.I. Lee, James L. Obenschain, Joseph A. Todd, and L.M. "Bud" Darby. In similar manner, over the seemingly endless years, continual cooperation between the Resident Landscape Architects and the right-ofway engineers for Virginia and North Carolina was diligently promoted. A classic example of that cooperation came to fruition via R. Getty Browning, North Carolina's chief right-of-way engineer, who walked every foot of the North Carolina sections and so unstintingly applied his life to promoting the interests of the Blue Ridge Parkway that the National Park Service recognized his contribution by naming a Parkway peak in his honor, "Browning Knob." Thus, a common vision, a common goal, and an uncommon dedication of innumerable, talented professionals have made possible "a time to plant and a time to sow," with a resulting unparalleled eyeappealing cultural landscape called the Blue Ridge Parkway. A TIME TO LIE LIGHTLY ON THE LAND Little by little, with excruciating delays the Parkway approached completion. The unit to have the distinction of being the "last link" was a fragile, boulder strewn segment around Grandfather Mountain. It had an intricately complicated routing history. The Service and the land owner had widely divergent opinions about how the road should traverse the Grandfather Mountain. Early projections in the 1930's had assumed that the route would absorb the existing Yonalossee Trail and hence that right-of-way was obtained. Service landscape architects eventually rejected it and proposed a new one above the existing road saying that it was impossible to bring the old road up to National Park standards. Included in the new routing was a tunnel, an environmental protection device. But the land owner vigorously protested that the "high" road and tunnel would be extremely detrimental to the fragile environment, lliere developed a stalemate, lasting several years, with the Service holding out for its "high" road on the grounds that revamping Yonalossee Trail to standards matching the rest of the Parkway was impossible. The land owner held out for the "low" road, arguing that Grandfather Mountain was too precious environmentally to endanger with all the blasting which would accompany tunnel construction. Engineers, landscape architects, and a variety of specialists, political as 37 �well as technical, clambered over the terrain, gesticulating, projecting, and counter-projecting. Finally, after an exhausting day on the site, seeking an answer favorable to the mountain, the owner, and the nation, a Service team leader took a topographic map to his motel room and, with red ink, placed a series of dots on it, crossing the Linn Cove drainage system: "Right there is where it will have to go!" he declared. Out of those little red dots eventually came a solution to the routing problem. A middle route, eliminating the tunnel, received approval by all parties. Then came a final pioneering accomplishment of the Parkway's history: design the Linn Cove Viaduct, a bridge which could cross the environmentally fragile terrain without wreaking havoc. To meet the challenge, techniques and design methods learned in post-war Alpine Europe were applied. A span of 1,243 feet, consisting of 153 separate precast segments, and utilizing every kind of alignment geometry known to road construction, was built in the form of a double "S," literally from the top down. Using the most sophisticated computer and engineering technology available, this "most complicated segmental bridge ever built" was skillfully laid in place. The delicate environment was remarkably undisturbed, making this unit one of the most outstanding engineering and landscaping accomplishments in the nation's history. The Linn Cove Viaduct story vividly illustrates the extraordinary stature of the technological changes which have evolved since the first landscape architect and engineer made their pioneer designs in the early 1930's. For example, Stanley W. Abbott and his colleagues labored with the aid of a French curve, a straight edge ruler, a so-called "spline line," a "gooseneck" weight, and a hand manipulated calculating machine. But, almost half a century later, when the landscape architect and engineers had to design the Linn Cove Viaduct within rigid environmental confines, Rex Cocroft, Bridge Engineer, Federal Highways, utilized a vest pocket-sized highly sophisticated computer to plot the curvilinear design which gives the 38 Linn Cove Viaduct its peculiar uniqueness. Thus, both the vision and the technology have grown, and both the old Grandfather Mountain and the new Linn Cove Viaduct truly lie "lightly on the land." A TIME TO CELEBRATE Finally, in an unbelievably long, stretched out construction program, lasting better than half a century, the Parkway received the last touch of the engineer, heard the final groan of the bull-dozer, and felt the concluding peck of the stone mason's hammer. Complete at last, it reflected millions of dollars of taxpayers' money well invested, employment for thousands, recreation for untold numbers, and a pioneering achievement that is a monument to the Great Depression and a celebration of the Great American Countryside. Here, indeed, was an incomparable public works achievement, painted on a "five hundred mile canvas with a comet's tail." Credit lines for this eye-pleasing accomplishment could fill many pages. Topping the list would be those intrepid, gifted landscape architects who pioneered with such distinction. How richly they had fulfilled the National Park Service creed to conserve, to share, and to pass on to posterity an exquisitely incomparable managed museum of the American countryside! Testimonial of their success is evidenced by all those who flock to enjoy its limitless panoramas, native plants and animals, its visitor centers and campsites, its waterfalls and streams, and its flaming autumn foliage, free from the trucks and commerce of the Interstate highways. Perhaps the greatest tribute that can be offered is the realization that the landscape design was so well-done that most users assume that all is in its natural state, never realizing the monumental accomplishment of those architects and engineers who created this special access for public enjoyment. The Linn Cove Viaduct on Grandfather Mountain, North Carolina, is a fitting end to the Blue Ridge Parkway construction. It was built to retain as much as possible of a fragile landscape. Its graceful beauty compliments the natural environment and helps protect it for the enjoyment of the passerby. �THE LANDSCAPE ARCHITECTS OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY Stanley W. Abbott 1933-1948 Arthur H. Beyer 1957-1963 Edward H. Abbuehl 1948-1957 Robert A. Hope 1963-present (Kenneth C. McCarter served as Resident Landscape Architect from January, 1944 to November 1945 while Stanley Abbott was on military furlough.) 39 �BIBLIOGRAPHY For those whose intellectual curiosity prompts further inquiry, the following sources are recommended. A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. 40 FOR IN-DEPTH RESEARCH RELATIVE TO ANY MAJOR ASPECT OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY STORY SEE: United States National Park Service, Correspondence regarding Blue Ridge Parkway, Record Groups 48 & 79, National Archives, Washington, D.C. Annual Report, Superintendent of the Blue Ridge Parkway, 1935 ff., National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway Archives, Asheville, N.C. FOR GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE ORIGINS, POLITICS, AND EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY SEE: Buxton, Barry M. and Beatty, Steven M. The BJue Ridge Parkway: Agent of Transition, Appalachian Consortium Press, Boone, N.C., 1986. Jolley, Harley E., The BJue Ridge Parkway, c. 1969, University of Tennessee Press, Knoxville, Tenn. FOR A PICTORIAL RECORD OF CONSTRUCTION, ETC., OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY SEE: Photographic Archives, National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway Archives, Asheville, N.C. FOR NATIONAL PARK PHILOSOPHY REGARDING CULTURAL LANDSCAPES AND PARKWAYS IN GENERAL SEE: Melnick, Robert Z., et. al., Cultural Landscapes; Rural Historic Districts in the National Park System. United States Department of Interior, National Park Service, Cultural Resources Management, Washington, D.C., 1984. United States Department of Interior, National Park Service, National Parkways Handbook, Washington, D.C., 1964 plus supplements. FOR INSIGHT INTO STANLEY W. ABBOTT'S PUBLIC RELATIONS PHILOSOPHY SEE: "Blue Ridge Parkway News", National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway, Roanoke, Va., November 1937 ff. FOR INFORMATION ABOUT THE WESTCHESTER COUNTY PARKS PROGRAM SEE: Report of the Westchester County Park Commission, County of Westchester, State of New York, 1926 ff. FOR BRIEF OVERVIEW OF ROADS AND PARKWAYS IN VIRGINIA SEE: Newlon, Howard, Jr., et. al., Backsights, "Roads That Lay Lightly Upon The Land," Dec., 1984, p.3 and ff., plus Backsights articles in general. FOR ORAL HISTORY AND A DEEPLY SENSITIVE INTERPRETATION OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY'S ENTIRE LANDSCAPE PROGRAM SEE THE TRUE GUARDIAN OF THE PARKWAY'S BEAUTY AND INTEGRITY: Mr. Robert A. Hope, Resident Landscape Architect, Blue Ridge Parkway, Asheville, N.C. �ABOUT THE AUTHOR DR. HARLEY E. jOLLEY, also known as "Mr. Blue Ridge Parkway/' is a retired distinguished professor of history at Mars Hill College where he taught from 1949 through his retirement in 1991. Dr. Jolley and his wife, Betty were the backbone of the Mars Hill history department for more than forty years. He volunteered as a ranger and historian for National Park Service on the Blue Ridge Parkway He was a recipient of North Carolina's Order of the Long Leaf Pine. He authored many books and articles including; The Blue Ridge Parkway: The First 50 Years, That Magnificent Army of Youth and Peace: The Civilian Conservation Corps in North Carolina^ 1933-1942^ and Along the Blue Ridge Parkway. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Painting with a Comet's Tail: The Touch of the Landscape Architect on the Blue Ridge Parkway Description An account of the resource <span>Harley E. Jolley explores the Blue Ridge Parkway through the history of its landscape architecture. As Roger Martin states in the introduction, "The design and construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway is an illustration of the kind of quality possible in an enlightened democracy. It is the true example of how a society can properly care for its land and its people."</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1VUBrCVDS2e7vIJtqo3VuwR7wJRRd_a-Z" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469642161/painting-with-a-comets-tail" target="_blank" rel="noopener">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Subject The topic of the resource Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.) Landscape architecture--Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.) Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Jolley, Harley E. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1987 Language A language of the resource English Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s Architecture Blue Ridge Parkway construction history landscape architecture https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/858d51438721e57b601bace9706463af.pdf 5b356fc62c3a8e331f3c1553b1a4ef24 PDF Text Text �This page intentionally left blank ��The History of Blowing Rock by Barry ML Buxton WITH PHOTOGRAPHS BY JERRY W. BURNS by S* �The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From 1973 to 2,004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day. With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program.; Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press. www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses. Original copyright © 1989 by the Appalachian Consortium Press. ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-4132-4 ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4133-1 Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press www.uncpress.org �to �Judy Mrs. Dr. Mr. B. Mr. Gwyn Mrs. Mrs. Amy Ms. Durr Mr. Ms. Mr. Designer �A by contributions the individuals BENEFACTOES In memory of Mr. John Miles Abernethy by Caroline J. Abernethy Mr. Mrs. John L. Barbara. Baker Bennett Blowing Rock Rotary Club Linda and David Brown In Memory of J.E. Broyhill by Mrs. J.E. Mrs. Allene Mr. and Mrs. Paul H. Senator Mrs. T. Broyhill Mr. Mrs. Willard A. Gortner Annie L. Cannon Family by Anne Cannon Forsyth Dr. H. Frank Forsyth Mr. Mrs. Edwin A. Morris Dr. Jock Tate Nella Cannon Tate Moores Zachary R. Tate Rheba and Jack Crane Mr. Mrs. Henry Enterline Mrs. Clyde H. Harriss In memory of Laura C. W.L. Holshouser by Janice N. Jerry W. Burns Judith M. Burns Sylvia E H. June and Merle Dye, Jr. Katie Merle Dye Mr. Mrs. Howard R Holshouser and Howard R Holshouser, Jr. and John W. Holshouser Mrs. Virginia Holshouser Louise and William L. Holshouser William L. Holshouser, Jr. Louise W. Turner Ernest C. Williams, M.D. Lyons Mr. and Mrs. J.W. Abernethy, Jr. American Legion Post 256 Mr. and Mrs. William J. Gilleland Enterprises, Inc. Mr. and Mrs. E Mr. Mrs. John D. Penn Mrs. W Jr. Mr. H. Shore, Jr. Betty Herbert Swisher �Zola L. Kenneth E Adair Anita Tom Allison Mr. Mrs. Bud Altmayer Mary Sue Claude Arm field In memory of Jed Athas by Jo Hogshead Ellen Bill Afers Mr. and Mrs. George M. Ball Mr. and Mrs. James W. Beach Anne and Alex Bernhardt Mr. and Mrs. Guy A, Berry Mrs. Irene R. Mrs. Elizabeth S. Bisanar Mr. Mrs. George Bernard Blumenthal Properties Mr. Mrs. Francis S. In memory of Ethel H. and Jesse M. by Janice N. Jerry W. Judith M. Burns Sylvia E Ronald H. Burns In memory of A.K. Buxton by Dr. Mrs. Barry M. Buxton Mr. Mrs. Guy L. Byerly, Jr. Mr. Mrs. Robert W. Cancfler, Jr. Mr. and Mrs. George M. Carpenter Mr. Mrs. Paul R. Caruso Jane Wayne Cawley Chetola Properties Reverend Kenneth Clapp Mrs. M. Mr. H. Glenn Tbni and Everette Coffey In memory of C.C. "Kelley" Coffin by Ann Jackson Coffin Mr. and Mrs. Allen M. Coker Sarah M. Cooper Mr. Mrs. William M. Courtney Mrs. David J. Craig, Jr. Linda S. Craig Mr. and Mrs. Robert L. Crain Mr. Mrs. Richard D. Cmver Mr. Mrs. Frank H. Crowe/I Mr. Mrs. Walter S. Crump Jam's and Jim Culp Mr. Mrs. John L. Dabbs Mrs. Jeanne P. Darr Dr. Mrs. Charles Davant, Jr. Dr. and Mrs. Chalmers G. Davidson Louis Dessaint Mr. Mrs. Robert T. Dickson Mr. Mrs. Anthony S. Mr. Mrs. J. Robert Dixon Judge Mrs. Frank B. Dowling Elizabeth Duncan Mr. Mrs. Donald B. Dunlap Mr. Mrs. Maurice D. Ewing Dr. William A. Exum Mr. Mrs. Robert W. Fisher Mr. John A. For lines. Jr. Jim Foreman Creative Photography Reverend and Mrs. Frederick D. Frey Mr. Mrs. Watson R. Gabriel, Sr. Mr. and Mrs. William J. Gackstatter Dr. Lucius G. Gage, Jr. In memory of Jane Bud Gamble by Betsy and Pucho Hansen' Catherine Troy Garrison Mr. M. Lee Garrison Mrs. W.B. Garrison Mr. Mrs. William B. Garrison, Jr. Dr. Lynn D. and Ruth E George Mr. Mrs. James E. Gibson, Jr., Family Nancy Ofte and Thomas Coulter Gibson Peggy W Robert B. Gibson Mr. Ralph E. Glaser, Jr. Mr. Mrs. Alfred H. Grant Rachel David Greene Mr. Mrs. John A. Guy ton. Jr. Mr. Mrs. Virginia J. Hall Col. Mrs. Rufus E. Hallmark Mr. Mrs. C. Rush Hamrick, Jr. Mr. Mrs. E Gwyn Harper, Jr. Mr. Claude E. Harris Mrs. Shearon Harris Mrs. Bernice Hertfelder Mr. Mrs. Leston Hilton Robert L. Hock Mrs. B.S. Mr. and Mrs. Graham Hoyle Mr. Mrs. John H. JsenJiour, Jr. Carmen E Jackson John W. Jackson, Jr. Mr. Mrs. Harry Richards Dr. Mrs. R.S, Jones Mr. Mrs. Charles A. Ketchie Mr. Mrs. Homer R. Ketchie Mr. J.E Ketchie Evelyn D. Clyde Keyes Mrs. Kathryn M. King In memory of Mr. George C Kinsman by his wife, Jerry Kinsman Martha William Koerschner Opal Koone Mr. Mrs. Dallas S. Lanier �and Bill Lee Charlene Bill Lentz Mr. Mrs. Joseph W Lineberger Mrs. Quintine J. Lowry Mr. Clarence Herbert Lutz Maxine Horace Lutz Mr. Mrs. C.R. Lynch Mr. Mrs. W Franklin Mabry Mr. Mrs. Jack C. Mallory Mr. and Mrs. Manning Malloy Dr. M.L. Marion Dr. Mrs. Frank Alfred Mathes Esther D. McCarthy Marguerite Haywood McCown B. Gen. (Ret.) Mrs. John A, McEwan Mr. and Mrs. Thomas R. McGehee Mr. McLeod Joanne Dale Mercy Ann Larry Meretsky In memory of Mr. EL Miller, Jr. by Mrs. EL Jr. Dr. Mrs. Miller Mrs. Leonard (Helen) Moretz Irene Morris Mr. Mrs. Thomas J. Morrison Mr. Mrs. Andrew H. Nimmo Mr. Mrs. Jeff L. Norris In memory of Annette Olson by Robert J. Olson Mr. and Mrs. Green Penn ^enterprises, Inc. Mr. and Mrs. Hayden C. Pitts Sonny Sam Rabin Mrs. T.H. (Juel) Mr. and Mrs. David H. Rankin Dr. and Mrs. Carmen Razzano Mr. Mrs. T. Henry Redding B.J. Mrs. Lena M. Robbins and Family Dr. Stacy L. Rollins, Jr. Saint Mary's of the Hills Episcopal Pearl S. and Hovey Scoggins Mr. Mrs. Joseph A. Sedlak Mr. and Mrs. J.C. Shaw Mr. Mrs. William G. Shelton Mr. John R. Shepley Mr. John S. Snerman, Jr. Mr. and Mrs, Adrian L. Shu ford. Jr. Mr. Harley E Shu ford Mr. Mrs. William H. Mr. Mrs. O. Slough Mr. Mrs. J. Don Smith Elizabeth Ann Smith Anne R. Snively Mr. Mrs. C Snyder, Sr. The George C. Snyder, Jr. Family Dr. Mrs. H. Lisle Snyder Mr. Mrs. Luke Snyder II Mr. Mrs. Martin Stein Mr. Mrs. M.E. III Virginia A. and David H. Stevens Dr. and Mrs. James E Steward Stonehaven Realty, Inc. Victoria E. Sylvia Mary and Charles Tarr Dr. Mrs. W. Chandler Thompson Mr. Mrs. R.L. Thornton, Jr. Lt. Gen. (Ret.) Mrs. John J. To/son III Delia Bill Jreneer Richard Jrexler Dr. Thomas D. Carol A, \4nce Mr. and Mrs. Edwin B. Vosburgh In memory of Mr. Jack M. Wagner by Mrs. Jack M. Wagner Mr. and Mrs. Earl D. Jr. Ed Walterman Mr. and Mrs. William R. Watson Dr. and Mrs. Q Mr. and Mrs. W Whatley Mrs. J. Francis White Vira S. Mr. and Mrs. Hugh T. Whitehead In memory of Mr. and Mrs. Cameron Williams John S. Betty C. Williams by Louise W Turner Ernest C. Williams, M.D. Gene Lloyd Williams Jean and Bill Williamson Mr. and Mrs. WV. Williamson, Jr. Nancy and Mason Wines Mr. and Mrs. H. Jr. Mr. Mrs. William B. Wood Barbara Lentz Wright �Lillian B. Frederick R. Appleton Mr. Mrs. S.C. Blowing Rock Oil Mrs. Kathryn K. Dr. and Mrs. C. Lynn Brown Marian G Calvin Mr. Mrs. Perry C. Cartwright, Sr. Mrs. Viola Coffey Church Mr. Mrs. Joe N. Clawson Mrs. Helen Clear Mr. A. Collier, Jr. In memory of Harry Collins by Charlene Collins Rick Crandell Dr. Mrs. Charles Davant III Mr. and Mrs. C. Deal Dr. Mrs. Frank G. Dickey, Sr. Mr. Mrs. Joseph D. Dulaney Mr. Mrs. CJ. Dulin Dr. Mrs. Courtney D. Egerton S. Falkey Mr. Mrs. Richard G. Finley In memory of Mary Y. Ralph A. Ford by Sylvia F. H. Burns Mr. C.C. Fox Mrs. Mary D. Gaddy Mary May Gillespie Mr. Mrs. S. Graham Mr. Earl J. Grant Ann Greene In of Nettie Robert Lee by Caroline Greene Robbins Peter Greene Robert (Pug) Greene Benjamin L. Greene Susie L. Greene Mr. Mrs. D. Susan J. Mr. Mrs. M.R. Harrison, Jr. In memory of by Dare Hartley Filepski In memory of Stella Kerley Hartley by Fred Hartley Mr. Mrs. Lyon Harrman Mr. Mrs. M. Mr. Mrs. E.J. Kentner Mrs. K. Keys Mrs. Wanda B. Lanahan Mr. Mrs. F. Love III Mr. Mrs. C. Mr. Mrs. Tom Morris Mrs. Ceil S. Murphy Mr. William R. Murphy Mrs. Mrs. W. Mr. N.O. Jr. Elizabeth R. Pope Mr. and Mrs. WX Price Pride Ridgeway Motel Caroline Greene C. Mr. James M. Barbara and James M. Scott Mr. William M. Shaheen L. Mr. Thomas E. Shreve Louvene W. Stone's Carpet Service, Inc. Harriet H. Mr. Mrs. J.L. Thompson^ Jr. Nancy Earl Jrexler Joyce and Joe Villani Mr. Lee Warnock Mr. Mrs. Ray Weakleyt Jr. Mrs. Julia Williams Mr. Mrs. David Wmy Mr. Mrs. John Y. Jr. �ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS in a as this, it is and the people of are the Worthy of of our community's its Two of this The and all to who in the as a In the a to I to for in Club to to the the out this this to like Bill Herrin, to a a good of The and on a of has The his I am me has in John the has for A is be Clinton of community the the has the They in the a in of Gwyn of has of his of to my at the Norris has a a is of the has for the Art Rex the the to the Gene Lohr, and by Mr, My the the has by are Clinton Pitts, and Morton, and the late Carl Bill a We My His of our for Jerry's of my Durr, on Their is the by Jo Gibson, Wood, job on the of to us all has the and a has for the the Jerry �I on of One — my of to my for My has Carrie, the real and life. any is has my for the critic, of this M. 11 North 1988 �CONTENTS Acknowledgements i Introduction v CHAPTER I Land of the Breeze and Home of the Brave 1 CHAPTER II Starting A New Century 27 CHAPTER III Great Estates and Prominent People 53 CHAPTER IV Hotels, Inns, and Boarding Houses 89 CHAPTER V "Book Learning" in Blowing Rock 109 CHAPTER VI Our Religious Heritage 127 CHAPTER VII Healing the Sick 145 CHAPTER VIII Becoming a Seasonal Mecca 159 A Photographic Tapestry 193 Blowing Rock Landmarks 209 "Wauhonhasee — The Legend of Blowing Rock 215 Index 221 ��INTRODUCTION In his T.S. us to our lives. He said the end of our will be to we and the for the first So it is for me this I was in the old Clinic in 1949. The was a by the of Davant, Jr. My up in Park, the in a of I the High, and University, in the me in the 70s but I to a at the Consortium in 1980. Four to I a call a of the Judith The of the call was to as to the Consortium be in a of Rock, Judith, as as felt a to be which the Judith's a with me I to for a my the it not go Two on 19, 1986, I was to at a of the Club. the end of the I to in a for the Club be to in a of Blowing Rock. Judith's idea fell on ears the Dr. and Mr. Bob me to the that I was to key Club at Bob Bob Bill Bob and We the with such a the for the the I to to the was to The Consortium as the to publish, the if it met the Publications It was at this in the Bill the of the the sale of the to the of The was a of it uniform all the two virtually in the with to see a concerned about the town beautifying the around Mayview Lake. The compatibility of the two the of both. historic in Bob Whatley's Bill and Bob Gibson set a for the project. Our first on October 23, 1986 in the American Four key of Caroline Abernethy, Jerry Pitts, and Chris May. Under Bill the a The history book/lake so we to publish the history as originally The in and and It was this was an idea had and the of all of us With we our for the and to a color which would on Blowing Rock A of the was of Bill Gibson, Chris and We two for the our in a Broyhill, son late �J.E. of the so The of of the the in the of the no We an They Foundation, to our Ironically, an in Mayview Lake to its beauty, was a to Anne Cannon Forsyth. In the relatively short history in support for the critical she and Dr. to our on the trip to we one to see the a we the of the was as of the $300,000 of for be so for me, for the of the is it a a of to a to a My I of air the to old and of is still forthcoming, is for publish a community history has in of our town. Indeed, we much for which to what Rock has this project, I I I see the of Eliot^s My is the of any particular on my part, nor this it my and in community, who of life of for to It has as a to of Now I the is A to the my of air Rock. VI it is not a who contributed to our Village. which, the on the history. It is for to Those �Village Tapestry ��LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE/Page 1 CHAPTER I Land Of The Breeze And Home Of The Brave has a price from to in her The by both Indians and whites Only within the last century-and-a-half have to the growth resulting in the Blowing Rock of today. The Rock this time served as an two tribes, the Cherokee to the and the Catawba to the The of the North Carolina mountains. Ships from at or other northern ports, from the western jumpingoff point of Pittsburgh the Great Valley of Virginia. Virginia into Kentucky most of the colonists, and only the ambitious (or of and the of the Tar Although and found in and Caldwell dating of years, saw few Native Americans.1 A of visitor to the Blowing Rock the Gottlieb in 1752. At time, all of Western North Carolina in a property to the of Granville. To encourage settlement, he 100,000 to the Moravians, so set out a survey party to out the • An old known as the Nickajack Trail ran the present-day Hickory, to Lenoir, to Linville, to the Nickajack Caverns Chattanooga, directions a hunter soon led the Bishop's party off any of a trail. Journal entries to a route up the St. John's River, to the River The valley, to New River, then out of the mountains by way of Yadkin. Anyone who has ever trouble von the trip to Blowing the Bishop^s account comfort in it could hav ve worse, much For he "the wol es, whi vch...give us such music of six cornets, the like of which I in my life.**2 The uphill journey "Part of we to crawl on we to the drag up the mountain, for in of falling backward." Finally by the of the them. "Arrived on at last, we hundreds of mountain all us, a in a storm " Unfortunately for the Moravians, they not visitors. The December 3, 1752, entry continues to "We our tent, but scarcely we when a us, we could it. I I in encountered so or so cold a wind. The covered with snow — water froze for us fire. Our thoroughly disheartened." on a of Winston-Salem, at A of Rock prospective citizen far away. �2 / Chapter I Before "The War" Little over the next one hundred years. The Revolutionary War North Carolina; in any the family known to in the Rock did not arrive until the 1790s. These the prolific Greenes. By the micUSOOs, when the first summer visiting Lenoir, the Greene family with living the future site of the Green Park Hotel, and the brothers Joseph living the Mount German Reformed Church. the Boyden house would be built, Amos the location of the house, 4 Robert by what would be Cone Lake. Lot Estes, who was married to Benjamin's Chancy, bought the property that would be into the Chetola for $5 in 5 1846. The can rightfully lay to the of Rock. The Hayes, Storie, Bolick, Coffey families, all prominent in town history, early in southern County.6 Pioneer life for a harsh reality, where survival self-sufficiency. A contemporary account of life with the Reuben Coffey in the century the ability to cope. "All out of the ground, both wearing...The women would "G.L. Storie s Stock certificate card, spin, clothing for children. They of in the Lenoir and Blowing colors stripes. They got their colors from indigo of their own raising, copperas, Rock Turnpike Company " various kinds of The first calico I ever for my sister, old. He a old for six which the dress."7 Local primarily south to Lenoir. The through the at Council's (not yet known as Boone) and then to Wilkesboro. Cabbage, hay, livestock — mostly — brought down the for By the 1840s, Lenoir livestock in the mountains, too. joined by eager to the cool A few for short of time, but most of the out. The from their would local for talk and trade.8 The in the for a the C. the of prominent Lenoir merchant Harper, the for the town of Lenoir when it in 1840. He the of the Lenoir community to the secured the incorporation of the Lenoir-Blowing Rock Turnpike Company in 1845. James C. Harper not only the the construction by of both but as the of the Turnpike Company until his The built with pick, shovel, Mules hauled off the debris. The Turnpike a by pulling to the smooth, 9 to the for heavily-laden wagons. ^ „„ , . „ , . „ , tt r Traffic on the Lenoir-Blowing Rock Turnpike before the turn of the century, the ran ways. exclusively to Lenoir. In the fall, so to an of the the current county building) it 10 as "Hog Wild." Shortly the Turnpike's completion, the was in Mountain to this 11 thread. The of Lenoir, too, of the road. A was only a day was for it was built, the Rock, is to be the he "Summerville" He was by Millers, and Lenoir families.12 common locally mill of in the who in 1856 which prominent �OF THE OF THE 3 to Rock's as a the was by the call to five of 150 the Army of the Confederacy County, and County. the Caldwell was 3rd Joseph B. Clarke, who would the of Rock.13 Due to its nature, in County had to Consequently had an of the The County Census for 1850 only 84 to 29 free and 3245 By the to 4957, with only the of the economy was not a crucial to lie low in the the war by. As as 100 are to slipped the line to the Union Army.14 The was one He first on the side in of 1862, by his who as his The two while a to When a month without the of opportunity, the action. and with oak to toe. He to the unit with a and was as for for her, was able to her by the less of her Blalock was involved in a less humorous one the by the When his rash his to and he to he was by who convinced he was a to the Confederacy. Coffey, fed and the they to Tennessee, a Union Coffey was pointed out to as a Union by a John He was a his body was in a of When returned in 1866, one of his acts was to kill The was over; Blalock had no to the killing, and was of He was by the occupation government, however, and went to trial the century, of a in history.15 Where the of war within the the from Kirk a of Union in had the gall to call the Third North Carolina Mounted Infantry, United Army. His was of a of of as In of 1865, his to he his command. One Lenoir the by to su Wilkesboro. Kirk was left in to pply lines the country control Kirk, too, his Major'Bahney was sent to Gap to the east and WW. was sent to with about two to watch the at his headquarters with about four hundred troops. For military purposes, Blowing Rock was known as Gap and set up a the site of the Rock He to give a to the and the original Harper was at this to for the The site was for its Fort As it few Confederate left in the Far to any the Union free to raid the in of and In responsibility the of over one thousand Lenoir, for in Ohio.17 The Civil War �4/ I It's a War's end saw the to .. of a in Rock. During the war the South had fled to the safe North Carolina Lenoir was so by 1864, the of a Colonel she could no (in town) to board.18 Spillover up the mountains. Although their first may by war, of as The by not The still the was built in 1870 as a The for in a of to the with eventual for fourteen The Martins, who a in Lenoir, the with Mayor J.B. Clarke in 1889, the Martin 19 a civic for years. the in 1874, built Rockfs 20 He ran a office, real construction business. John Schenck, Sr. to the so that lanky Mr. Stringfellow had to with his out the 21 the on them. The Morris cooking widely however, such as for visits. Room 50 cents a day, or $15 a month.22 The was 1877 by WW. Sherrill, who built two or for had This did not the was to the family.23 LW. "Len" the Chetola the town^s The was then Silver Lake, trout fishing a major attraction. Again, the rooms small, the — for visitor. In a letter of general for the Estes* the by "As to the I add chickens, to you both a I Will in his night, is he There is a not far they a Oh! yell, they bell, are a "24 Zeb in in Morris1 for is he Vance, war politicians, did much by their in the post-war to Blowing Rock a resort of choice for socially prominent Carolinians.25 in the Victorian They the as life to to the as "cottagers " The to three-story to be They to as for the the 77ie Martin Cottage The Earl Estes Farm and Way Station in 1885, The farm would later become Boarding House then Chetola. to �OF THE Light in the the Finding a the which a of which the was AND was be for by from was a bit the view. For for the in who be a 6" not F Crockery the 5 OF THE not on but 10' be set in the for The of a did not was in by or the Cisterns the to run-off, which could be by and for The of by the size of the or not the was also an option, but the rocky soil a of had to be A would be set off, the lit, and so on to a of fifty feet or more. As the well lucky workman to be in a to the the to the The difficult, would be cut and to out the gas. Outhouses, by sex but not an For use, the of construction had to be as was for wells. The was of of the a was the of in as and by at the of the As a boy John Miles Abernethy an up the Turnpike. He sat in the of a the of the cow. by run by the and Millers. Fruits, by to their by the More common spring as a source of ice was as the of and to a of six feet on the to be the by Local to cut of ice at Chetola in winter, to the ice bury in When the the ice would be with a worth of or be in the to blocks of ice. vvthe be Dairy not for long, but the for perishables.26 life was thus both A fine to a but only first in a tub. The servant who the on at his privy out be ^r ^ they are .^, ' ^ than to the inconveniences. The Boy den Cottage The Patterson Cottage �6/ I Do For the The Lenoir-Blowing Rock the of the on the to the The of in to to the — or in the the fun. a Until Hickory few North trip, the late out the to the the A had to the Civil War. By 1852 a line as far as but The Assembly a North in to be by the the rest to to by its No further was so a was two "paper as the did not The was not yet as the so the War. the the to the by up and The line had to get the to tap rail In the line two it the at A line to was the to the south.27 was not on the line of the but a to was in 1884. The leg into Lenoir an At to the and push it its the was to of of dirt rail link shortly this one the The &L the in 1882. The Linville Land, and Company of Wilmington, North the less Linville Company) was in the of 29 a the industry. The in 1895, Cranberry to Linville. The Lumber Company the to in 1900, the Whiting it to Shulls Mill in 191546. The a to the at in 1918, the Collectively, of the &L North Carolina line as "Tweetsie."30 (The ET &L WNC was to by as the "Eat &L Wear No Clothes," an poverty.)31 was mostly Lenoir was a for on the "Hack Line" run by to get to the of to for the the day the trip Visitors lay in Lenoir for a day or or f°r the of it the up the mountain.32 The a by This for a or by or also yet less �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE/Page 7 the to to the In the to with constitutions. Two toll had to be on the Turnpike. The was five north of at the end of the a cut off to the Local or off The was by the of the Yadkin to Rock. The year-round, by At the tum-of-the-century, a ^ i ir cost 25 a i was Blowing Rock in the 1880s—from the papers of Dr. J Jethro Rumple p 20 cents, 10 get a through, the 33 rate was $L The trip a day, or be up by an stay at as and Curtis*, at the point. the was It was not for to to the the trip.34 Craig did a to at $2.50 per By 1892, had at the the and the for to and and The industry accounted for a of the not be for out so the if- £0., cut "on the by tcsV«!U t,-nc«r unJ %tcwi«i| the of the it was ox- or and to There, it was in the and with economic in the post-Civil 36 was needed. A to the and was also by the had 16,000 of Linville MIX in He and his in the Linville its be on roads to the world. In the of and ST. work on the Trail (or "Trail of the to Rock, the which would U.S. 22L37 Men for a job as much as to a day for 25 to 75 cents in Mules carried out dirt by by the blast. Drag the bed. The was in just two at the low of one a mile.38 To With the of lines Caldwell County, to of the of Rock's environment. The S.A.L. a publication Platsmouth, Va. to the Air Line the the S.A.L.'s a of in July in 1897. The following a of the the S.A.L's to inform the Travelers over double culvert on the Yonahlossee Road, �Pbge 8 / Chapter I had into the of for Carolina. if was of it. FOE All in is the by is Air Wine-Cold, Crystal Trickling Rocky Glens. Verdure in the of Scenic Air, in to in ing a Leno/r, Linville-United by En- Laurel, J?/ioat Low Drivers Con- for the for the for for the the Time for as of the up as up is to the the to are as out the flee of the to the in There the up by outdoor climbing, a luxuriance of to There the as the on Act in an to as the a of we air The of There the are There of the of is is is to its — �OF THE as AND 9 OF THE Mr. G.W.F. are is an of the as a of the are all in to A is is in to a it is no If the of is in a hurry, the in a The of a to of at at an early hour in the to a of In to 1:30 p.m., will it is the of line they employ of vehicle at for the of the of Their (part is at of 150 bred), all or less the These are the worn, of as in as in his is at very notch of Ifbu a but we a (for for to as as for for like to for as of the for the the last If a by 1 all 'Billy. He is a in ebony—faithful, careful, civil, he is of the by by its if its Never he in on The Lenoir Blowing Rock built in 1847 by a by the Hon. C. a of The is up by is in condition. For Lenoir it the of the soil its quick susceptibility to the of all of A few on, we to a (or of one) It is its conducted by S.F. a of Major Harper of Lenoir. He has a cotton wool factory a grade in its is We of — the hickory, elm. The is in her our path with blossoms. As we to a "Cook's Place," six of Rock, we an of Valley, Bill, a of into the The Cone the of the its Within the limits of Blowing Rock is vision—the St. John's as The of Blowing of a the a of The is 300, which is to or the its for or of which it is apex the up the is the of the is a �Page It is not of the Sky' so an on to its The to our We can is like a one all, no or the is A to a up the the this In for a the of a by the to of A Hotels, was the Town of The to go to the charter: City Is 199, IN THE Sec, 1. In 1889, AN ACT THE OF That the by the of law now That the W.M. 3. That the of a are the Mayor; I.N. Corpening, W.M. to act until There TO of be an OF THE OF in County of the Town of Rock, in to 2. 4. of 1889 DO be it is be be as for of a Dr. are in That be 6. act on per annum. to That all of act for the in for the be in and the of J.B. in of who town thirty to full county previous to by by all be 8. or of That of all 7. no the in the are held All twenty-one in the State twelve months in the county ninety in to of election, be to vote at election. 5. to all the a tax as are of The Code, in for the to the of the to of its of the be day to the AH» �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE / Page 11 its and first to be up but he who as a Clarke. He he the (a Clarke He is to a in 1871. Civil as" in the in a in the for for the of to the the in all to He is to a is, a in it was faith.39 in his or To Of an be he to a was just a bit too a of he $1 costs.40 As a the his but the In an the the County of as the fit to A and which the had also and Its As luck it, Thornton a but was to in the Lenoir News-Topic the life, too. and the as the Uncle Joe Clarke he he let go a the The its did not a to in 1886.41 Under for the The for the any sale of of the two his to fill out his the As to sell his in for a on the 1, of the has a the "wet,11 got as a "dry" in 1892. call for a the he An to a resort.43 his the his to be will be a for his the of of the the by Joe the tax a Trie Is that of 'beer or no beer* — whether or a opened. The upon of it, the an not without it, the the would drive many of the of visitors 77ie boldly no has a Rock will never to anything until it a. The the of a be the of Blowing as a The 1890.44 H.C. 1892, so the of in year. In he W.H. the as a 45 �12/Chapter/ was too again/ for to call a and his to to Joe in was a 6 The had in the on 14, 1896, on L It is to use or in the corporate limits of the town of to a of $3.00. II. It is town or to a fine of for or to or III. It is The the or in any kind of of Rock, to put up on the or to any so to or be or any filth or to conviction, the in or of the be of the as it is be so for IV, That all be in the on the to of the or for be V. That all the of the by of the to as he or be to the to or for in of for or of a in be VI. It shall be unlawful to hitch, ride, or Any be to on so VIII. All Any X. All of the XL That no all shall be all or be at be If or be in for be burned or upon be be or a tax of of 25 cts for for the or $1.00 of of or for of found drunk within $10.00 to $1.00 or be convicted of the be to comply with the IX. Any or be 45 ten fail to or the VII. It Any of 18 for as by the for to run at the by the 10 cts by the the of for be goats, not of the the on the the �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE/Page 13 be for XII. Any lot lot XIII. It XIV. It at or to be or $2.50 all be be of to sell Any be the for to to or of for or so or in or to until he XVL The The It dry or to on in is in law XIII: in 1896, the for the a a for a of 66~4.47 1899 by a a This to be of his to of the 1899, in be the fines and out the the for or so XV. Any of in the The in in "civilizing" the and its at the as for was A of a this the In a the in within the $5.00 conviction, be the manufacturers, the in the In in the county, by only 40-17. In II, IV, VI, VII, VIII, XIV, XV, all to of Rock no of all to contribute 50 1914, so to be of privately. The of a Hog the the for at No to to to the at this in the as or but by 200 to 10.49 and the The was the of his of was the was a for low a In the A few to be be the up, for en all to by but all as a the of hog for to or �Page 14 / I to in the of for to the to was The couldn't to as Joe on H.C. in the by to for the of the The law to of a the 1890s. H.E. Miller of the in "a is if he $150 net profit"51 The of the in "At no in the County the late war has the our so as it is at this Our are for the of a is on and In "It is to a and we say in the of all the are to 52 the sea of " This led to the for 53 for west, few of the in the "Watauga boys" in or The "The of a of our of to in the is to be indeed."54 of at One the of the to a In of 1890,the at a of 700 (50? 193 female).55 Their on a (of to to The by r the as as P °fit» The put could on the the In 1897, the "Our is we in see the we fall people all not What we will to sell for is a to consider"57 the as prices, profit a trip to In a the "The to is at last on 35 to 50 cts per 15 to 50 cts per the of of to is at $5.00, to say of the on fall of 1897, to the "The is at the are not the per load."59 this the of was all the was in the of the but and and and The the in the 1891 "Rich are an in the is no up at any It is the at $75,000 the The to in of this Of the will be the of will a deal"60 the is to it was he In the it as the was the to In any the of a of any might the with the at a law, but by so to of a �OF THE to the The of "It will to OF THE out.61 Such a in one as it is to our last 15 as, a major for of the in 1892, $70.40 cts., and to it will the be $1760. Now, we $53,453 are 75 and real for law At 25 on the of we see the $53,453 to $133.63. Now see we still the the $1,626.37. Who will the so for pay?" On the the of The plight of the be the "The is I the is, it will be injurious to the of in is, it the has no He be to or no stock, for the up, "Let me say in if the in law, let it as the law ask the to up an to the off the sidewalks"62 The of was as as A the of 1889-1892 by "They the of rum pig the to the of the the fair of the [ie, by fat, the of our or the of If are 63 a how much is the of a sty!" The saw It "Weedon his to do the and let of the the are in of to It is a of all or no 64 or no corporation." The which to is by the of While the to his to it a of of law was to the it a to by a in 1900,65 by 66 in 1901. was lax at and the in the the for In the the the : ,i, i-: * : *" "i ™- TTie of a • �16 / Chapter I Downtown Blowing Rock during the first twenty of incorporation a : ; Main as now the of the Village. In v ;m 1923, a fire the of Main Avenue to Morris Street. The of the fire Jim Lentz's Company Store. The fire not yet no be A visitor the would the Main Street in 1905 67 scene. At the north end of at the of Drive just 1 the corner on the Linville Road, the Robbins blacksmith shop, run by Ed Robbins his Ed Robbins a at the Church, at the of the The Church was At the site of Pitts* the Miller Store,68 Where the library now a livery with the Cicero Miller in front of Miller General Store Hotel, one of the by Henkel, Craig Company. The of the The a two-story in the of the property. it on was a row of two-room which a porch. The the Jenkins Realty Company is the last surviving the Hotel Next the Martin House, which still as a home, it to it as a The ran a in Lenoir. At the to livery run at one by Mr. Jim Sudderth. This the Mayview The two houses, of the which was by the the white on the to Colonel Mrs. The Cordons1 by fire, was and can be as Tijuana The Schenck is still It was by Henry Schenck, one of first the War. His son, E Schenck, Sr., in the for sixty in the The of the Cotton Mills, among the Village's continuous residents.69 The Presbyterian Church originally a white on the site the beautiful church The two The no was the of the The Dr. in the This on the lot to it was to an inn, but the has The Church on the Further up the hill A by the of Peoples ran a Carpet is now. to was Mr. the Chestnut Drive the livery for the Hotel on the of the the was the the junction of Main 321, was the for The Hayes Cottage by Emily Prudden. �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE/Page 17 On the the to of the Rock Hotel This for A few still the The South is now. Dr. His ran a the the a Church of a Mr. the on Chestnut. the Nowells* a York, Church m no still Drug but by the by a on the the Dr. Reeves Drug Store in on of by the too the would be in out of the to as could.70 a run by the by Mr. The Church Room, its Sonny's Grill is William the the for ten in 1902. The to the in 1918 by Alice Wood, who up to the public school71 North of the Church Dr. a to Wiley Vannoy, the twoof Thomas Coffey. Where Union the by W.L "Will" and his At the of the fire Lunce his the It the last to the to the Drive Holshousers* the Joe Clarke, Dr. Calvin M. its The Joe the to the with his Just the shop of Coffey. to up set on the TJie original Episcopal Church and Reading Room This 1865 photograph is of the Holshouser and Edmisten families who were pioneers in Blowing Rock. W.L. "Will" Holshouser's General Sta in A of Rock, but did not Village in It only live A less gap found life was to bring a full The a to two (or the the two groups the and the the a up for the of also apt to be as and the to Blowing Rock Bank �Page 18 / Chapter I The of the mountains the of The Cone in 1908 is it to say that he for of occupied by and of the Cone by the the 1890s until his fully in a as as Cone a in the of the word. Appropriately, his as the of Flat Top Manor, the her. did but it c/e to The Hughes Estate any by on Mrs, Cone.72 WW. the to the the Chetola. The two for ten with the the in the late was an was the site of the was a for recreation.73 The was the site of the Cocktail as the War L Alcohol was but was not at the Cones* only at Chetola. by the To add to the air of the not by Mrs. was ill, but by the Mrs. Charleston, who to the household. The no children, their torn in 1979 to at the Grounds.74 The its the of the to a of Their at was to an or two of vacation, while the in the cool for an This the the with the Mary Nelson Carter, the of Dr. Charles Carter, is a in point. In the she the Lend-A-Hand Library a on the Carter which she for four Her in children's of the library's -odd for to the for At Mrs. Carter nutrition.75 Mrs. was in out to the A by a year-round Mrs. to the Christmas of 1893 a for all "The a few the Mt. a combined Christmas at Mt. Church, on Friday Christmas, at which *Santa Glaus* with a hand. Mrs. who we all look upon as one of us, although her is in a of Christmas of everything a toy, to she and out of the for people in community, are such, the things, to 76 the of old young for joyous time." Life was not all and for all an of The was at in late the Lenoir. to 77 the had brought. Three a life for The Watauga Hotel the to 78 79 on July 1, 1884. The on June 17, 1889, and the its in late June of 1891.80 Their not the set, join the Germans, or at 10:30 at the �OF THE Rock Hotel. on at the Hotel the at the Park, a town-until 1927, (at 25 by a two 81 the sides. The The two or on the golf course. Other and by to the A to the the try to with at the or horseback.82 On the in August, 1889, the Chorus with AND OF THE 19 , Mountain flower by of by the A by the to Programme: — Mrs. McKinnon Song Mr. R. Recitation Miss Stowe Song Prof, McLean Piano flute — Miss Harper Uncle Song with Guitar Piano Song Piano Song Song Quartette from Village Mr. Harper Mr. Turner Miss Woodward Gwinn Miss Stowe Mrs. Harper Woodward Miss Clementine83 With such a selection of to choose from, it is little wonder a visitor could as as O'Neal did in 1893. it: "Blowing Rock, the for the gay Terpsichore nightly, who like to in the light toe do so, to the low of'Home Home.1 Or of more nature, can play tennis or croquet on the lawns of velvety tufted or of maturer roll ten-pins or a quiet of whist in the numerous airy of the commodious Green Park hotel, or the Ye by the to this 'tis a Ye who are why die? Come up to this of the Sky."84 A delightfully informative visitor, a Ms. R.GH. in 1896, out the only the tourists point of view: not enough men. on her visit to the Green Park Hotel, "One of the most striking characteristics of the is the vast of femininity There are tall short women, women with just By the I women who the T, the of to the the respectively. Then are women who with a big of �Page 20 / Chapter I under their arms, where most of it stays. In to the are As yet I met only one of the sex the to my I did not to her, I not out of by so. It is are a few I cannot on I this can be would not be in a place." And the "The are in the minority here" she "and are the suit can 'tis true, but they are in to the of the livery horses" this was plenty of fun to be "One to a is a on for Friday. In to it has a the is a of the for a This will a thirty get very on a Pe°ple learn to other up here. Ball-room etiquette is not popular. Often get in a to borrow little of left at collar-buttons, a the use of of a a dinner-tray, one-half the gravy a fellow*s pocket, while the at upon the of the to his right; are out the up the buggy, the bill to be divided — all and for the to one or Finally, "A the We are 4300 feet the sea level, to and The mercury but the notch. up You to morphine, or any of the of The out of the spring is are in the For the the Moody has All are to join in the refrain."85 The of the the for a life The of the Cone The the the of the of the It was an income.86 to the of the did not a in the for the the by the or the life of the In 1880, the of of 340. The 62 62 a was a The Three one thirty-five five six ten size was Not all The one two groups but so the this for of age* The "unknown." Six of the a in for the no Of ten no two the two born" six, it was Dr. W.B. Councill — the For the by to the the slap and it was The of the John was and by five or six All ages and be full was by fire, but the 1900 five to These for Long, and Charley the also giving a in the But — in with as to a in the The of A — �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE/Page 21 off of as Thursday life, The in Sunday the of Rock's size and There 166 a of 805. The size was by the with the in which Of the 166, 101 " of still or but was that. -. \ "" ^r -.i/-u' c: r-'^-""" a "" • a a a "jewelry man " a butcher, a clerks. Diverse for up on Rock's could not the of but was Within a had for to a by The the Village with the of the of her while the of a Joe Clarke warned,, "Far be the day the be a to 'citify' the to a of the of conditions."89 The the of The early village with Cone Manor in background �"~" •ii *i lit "Arrived on the top at last, ive hundreds of mountain all around us, a Me waves in a storm." �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE /Page 23 NOTES 1. For a description of the Cherokee and Catawba tribes, see: Milling, Chapman J. The Red Carolinians. XIII and XIV: "The Nation." For information on excavations in Watauga County, see: Mintz, John et al The Ward Site: Center for Appalachian Studies. 1985. The of N.C.: The in 2. Arthur, John Preston. Western North Carolina: A History. Spartanburg, S.C.: The Reprint Company, 1974 (original 1914). p.62. 3. Bishop Spangenberg's diary is most extensively quoted in: "All About Old Time." The Lenoir News Topic. December 25, 1889. p.L Extrapolations of his probable route are included here, in: Arthur, John Preston. A History of County, North Carolina. S.C.: Southern Historical 1976 of 1915 pp.21-29. 4. Arthur, John Preston, A History of 5. Copy of 6. 1976 of 1915 p.219. County, pp.209-242. of on the Coffey in Community When Wild Sr.'s is of 8. S.C.: by A 7. a p.ll, 1983. 9. Col. be H. Gray, Here Will I with: Gwyn in the Throughout Area." of the file of Hotel, to Mrs. Lucille K. County, 1956. John The Jr. July 2, 1987 10. in 1939, as in The July 1, 1987. July 2, 1987. 11. 12. County, Here p.121. Here Will I Also, journal of 13. Finley of John Christian Here Will I 14. Arthur, A History of County, p. 146. 15. Keith Blalock's 16. Van is in Arthur, A History of Ina W. "The 18. in Ina W. Van Noppen, A.C. Avery's in the in "Old Aug. 28, 1953. 23. Arthur, A History of News-Topic. in N.C.; N.C. 1961. of the 1901. Clark ed. and Job p.33. County. p,218. 21. 22. TTie with the Vol.IV. Carolina". North Carolina Historical Review. Vol. XL, No.2. Spring 1963. p.177. Class of Early Days," The Blowing Rock Story. 20. Arthur, A History of Will I Dwell, pp.136-137. Raid" in North Carolina Historical Review, Vol. XXXVIII No.l. Jan. 1961, p.43. "The 19. "Martin County pp. 160-169 of 17. The Story of Stoneman's is For a see 24. in Rock" Mr. P.O. County, p.218. 26, p.L 25. Arthur, A History of Watauga County, p.500. 26. The of life draws heavily from "Blowing Rock Memories" by written in 1975. Helpful interviews also conducted with the July July 16, July 15, July 2 and 29, July 1, Carrie Leonard Gwyn Harper John Christian 27. A Ina W. 28. of Western North Carolina is in: John W. Van Noppen. Western North Carolina County construction is in "After 65 Ifears, op cit. Gaston Gage, an extensive unpublished the Civil War. 1987 1987 1987 1987 The Consortium July 3, 1972, p.13. 1973. p.253-267. �24 / I 29. Eller, Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press. 1982. p.lQL Miners 30. "Narrow Gauge Railroad Played Part in Developing This Region." The 31. McD. 32. Vardell , July 29, 1933. p.l. Charlotte: the Blue House. 1958. p.36. "Blowing Rock Memories." 33. Interview with John C. Also, 34. July 1, 1987. "Charlie in 52 of Transportation in Area." Gage, op. cit. 35. Lenoir News-Topic June 3, 1892. p.3. 36. Alfred Mordecai letter, The Blowing Rocket, October 25, 1963. p.2. John C. Bernhardt interview July 1, 198?. 37. Dellinger, Clyde J. Tweetsie and the Clinchfield Railroads. Morgan-ton, N.C.: The News Herald Press, 1979, p.2. 38. "History of the Trail", The Interview with Hugh Morton, June 23, 1987 Rocket, July 28, 1939. p.ll. 39. "Blowing in 1889," The Blowing Story, p,67,1983. When Clarke died in 1910, the Democrat reported on October 6, 1910 that the bulk of his church. Probate eventually divided his property relatives. 40. Winston^Salem Journal and Sentinel, February 8, 1970. p.l. A discreet version of the incident is told in his obituary in 41. Whitener, J. Prohibition in North Carolina, 1715-1945. 42. July 11, to the Swedenborgen Democrat October 6, 1910. Hill: The University of p.90. p.3. 43. Lenoir News-Topic July 2, 1890. p.3. 44. July 17, 45. May 7, 1891. p.3. 46. Lenoir p.3. 5, 1893. p.3. " 47. p.3. 7, 48. Democrat October 31, 49. p.3. Democrat May 28, p.l. 50. "Around Town", The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p.8. 51. For the role of open-range livestock in mountain farming, and Grady McWhiney. "The No. 2. p.147-166. J. Jr. "The Closing p.53-70. 52. "Trip to Rock," T/ie Story p. 19, 53. Democrat. June 29, 54. Democrat. 55. Democrat. February 2, 1899. 56. Democrat. January 9, 1890. 57. Democrat. 58. Democrat September 30, 1987. 18, 20, 1890, May 15, 1890, May 22, 1890. 59. Watauga Democrat. November 11, 1897. 60. 23, Democrat. December 2, 1897. A Range." Journal of The Journal of Southern History, Vol. Vol.XLI �LAND OF THE BREEZE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE /Page 25 59. Democrat. 11, 189?. 60. Democrat, 2, 1897. 7, 1891. 61. 24, 1892. 62. 63. Democrat. 64. 3, 1892. July 5, 65. p.3. 21, 1893. p.3. News-Topic. 3, 1900. 66. 67. 6, 1901. p.L Democrat, 68. by has ar reconstruction. In the we 69. ask the to as a of July 16, 1987. 70. Interview with Mary Kinnard. June 6, 1987, 71. July 16, 1987. 72. From Alice Wood 1918 73. "Old in as Our Community Club It." Tfie Story, at the p.70. 74. Aid. 75. "Old as Our Family Knew It." 76. Reminiscence by Blanche Ward in 1979, in 77. Dr. of July 25, 1987. Community Club at the Library. Democrat. January 11, 1894. p.3. 78. Vardell and Gage. "Blowing Rock Memories." 79. P.O. Ciaxton 80. "Blowing 81. in TTie Completed In July 27, T/ie p.ll, Democrat. June 11, 1891, 82. Article "50 Years Ago in Blowing Rock" by Mrs. 83. Lenoir News Topic. 14, 1889, p.2 84. Lenoir News-Topic. G. Norwell, in The Blowing Rocket. August 4, 1939. p.L 14, 1889. p.3. 85. Democrat. October 26, 1893. p.L 86. Lenoir News-Topic. 87. 19, 1896. p.L Democrat. October 23, p.L Democrat. August 27, 1891. p.L 88. Alfred Mordecai in The Blowing Rocket. 25, 1963 89. Interview with Lena Robbins and Carrie Buxton July 16, 1987. C. July 1, 1987. in �Page 26 / Chapter II �STARTING A NEW CENTURY/Page 27 CHAPTER II Starting a New Century could be up in two by the at the Rock the commitment to be a tourist town. Now to the Village. Unfortunately, town by a fire in the 50s, so are in our of who in during the of 1913 which a of that Joe was in 1889, 1890, 1892, 1894, 1900, 1903, and 1910. has it he was the town's first and only until his in 1910; this is not he is the to the of 1895-98, 1902, and 19044909. was 1 Secretary-Treasurer of the Caldwell &L Turnpike Company in 1901, was in to a run Lenoir to Rock. H.C. Martin mayor in 1891, prominent in Village for a for he the to H.R in 1895 to Lenoir.3 His in Rock continued, however, to the he his the he elected President of the Caldwell &. Watauga Turnpike Company in 1898.4 In the 1900s Martin the Lenoir News-Topic In 1915, however, Martin to he a of the Chamber of Commerce and its in 1927.5 H.W. Weedon did not let his at in the town's As the shows, he a Justice of the for in 6 both 1893 1899. Furthermore, as the owner of the Grand View Hotel, he a of tourism. Dr. CJ. Parlier did not move to until 18957 to 1899,8 but he so he was mayor in 190L9 He was on the of Directors of the and in 1903 1904,10 and helped found the of Blowing Rock in 1907. He, as Joe as Vice-President, future mayor G.M. as an for the These the for transportation but they not L.R C.V Henkel a to the Blowing in 1899, y-: to and to Lenoir, Linville, Cranberry, jlj Elk Park.12 On one in 1901, of their H horses struck by lightning the Green m Park Hotel while pulling a surrey. Fortunately the p 13 unhurt. A to the livery 1 | monopoly was the IJf of the Lenoir-Blowing Rock Turnpike to it to |j automobile traffic. ^i The was a & dirt for ... . ,, , o r ' Sal/ie, George M. and Bettie Sudderth �lumber hauling. would in hub-deep.14 a to visits to return home. The of the in 1910 that situation. This with of rock for the A crusher, on a 25-horsepower as as one of A would the rock, of oil the upper to to the to the rise at a four grade.15 Among the the lovely a for travellers.16 With a day-long now into an afternoon's With by a Veil Falls, jaunt, The at the at up the into on 20, 1908 with Osmond Barringer of Charlotte Carrie a of as the to Store, Aunt Jane Holshouser "Come quick, somethin* comin* nothin1 pushin1 of it nothin1 pullin1 of it!" the trip Lenoir in under two hours without incident, the in the Village Tom Coffey at the Inn. He his only the when he "most of the had off one of our in the climb, as it was to get in less we in to fix the one we had." After of a he cut of in the through tied the the a job 17 all the home. The months much Four Hickory the to be with and of "Hello, Mr. Barringer!" Shuford, the no yet "but the was the 470th car in North Carolina...we 4-7-0 in the strip of which we to the car" Rock was but on to Linville a on a of at to a to a turn-off, so the could pass.18 With the in 1910, to the mountains. Robinson, a visitor, in 1913, "The is the of the country is this fact This has witnessed...in a month more machines than come up during the whole history 19 of the ten up July" Day visits commonplace, irrevocably the of tourism and the Village. The did quick to It the That was the case with and The Turnpike, 20 in 1891 by Cpt. TJ. Coffey, had a seat to the Lenoir road. . John Arthur, commenting on this population "is a pretty constant quantity, as are but few visitors to the town in the all at and unconscious of the fact is on the 22 at all" ^n 1910, the Auto Transfer Company of Boone, proud of a of two ri v : •••i, ' -4 'V^ and Rock.22 The saw fc_ ! B.- VfftV; I ••:,.!? the announcement of a for the North " ^ "\ Wilkesboro-Blowing Rock trip; only hours!23 Winter ;:i;. _ Lenoir to her northern 1 Jj^ ' by car in 1916. One Village resident commented gratefully, " •*^?s^^^ "to get the at 5 o'clock is a luxury we are not to"24 Not long such Tfie oW and new means of locomotion as daily bus to City (July, and �A the use of a truck,26 to to the 24, 1927) to 29 In an E the in April, 1913, a he for and G.M. is of the a n i x 7.11 i iv/ r\ i Wagoning on t/ie Boone Turnpike by the on 26, 1913* "Our he his as an of the the cat has is joy in a in an of The month, for use in an he not an air of the air of this old has yet, all the of the to fro, gay far out the in the of the the the of the we of are the has to stay"28 can ask — he A good It electricity, — all the of a The in is not Mr. Coffey, of John's River a in the of 1897 to put up a It in 29 by the of July the at the Coffey Hotel. the line for as as it during the of its In 1901, the Globe Telephone Company an at the Carolina.30 A in until the of 1916, 31 all the Village the world. be or by As Ethel Holshouser Carrie to the right to a for to at the Hotel.32 the without Bell to in 1926.33 on by the in January, but not July of the Ed's Cafe as the "central" the on Drive be The on July 19, 1927, with Mr. Harry Cooper at the The full day of saw the of 43 the telephones.35 One of at the fire Rockfs only fire system.36 the the in — the Cones, the the — gas.37 On 1, 1912 H. of the a his to energy to the and Three H.C. the to his by an 3,490 pounds.39 he to his his hot and water,40 of did W.L the In 1919, he to to the in 1921 his contract was to years.41 When in 1925, the by the The for the in the to in the a a fire �Page 30 / Chapter II $100,000 water and sewer issue in 1926.42 The system required seven miles of water pipe and twelve thousand feet of sewer pipe. Included in the system were May view Park and Green Park — both of which were annexed in November of 1926.43 The Village Gets A Face Lift of its utility but the so a on Growth was on its the of a to the Dr. J.E. to with up the Village. In the 1912, for Ed man."50 With still a the "privy law" the Mayor on the to go. A of street.45 the in October, 1913, in to to the all the to construct "a the His for twelve-and-a-half per the "Privy Committee,"49 to the "each privy or as in The a on the problem.46 In 1914, a privy so as to all flies "47 In houses.48 the to be out by for the in 1917 D.R Coffey the "as a nuisance."51 Not 1926 so without a permit, of 52 a streets. less led the or thaws.44 Coffey, of the to "improved"" sidewalks. They "to in mouth deep"53 to a $15,000 in 1919, of Village The to in 1928. the Village, a In 1915, H.C. which the to a on it in a He The in 1919,55 by the in 1921.56 One the 57 by the State. North the to in in the of 1924, one "I the try to the in we be for all the he saw his for he in the to rise no county the of in 1926.58 out we Boone Street, todays Sunset Drive, after surfacing with crushed stone in me IyJ(/s (C..W. Moody s rurmture Shop on left) J^ "quaintoCSs" of ^ r W3S to �A as will Coffey be the we in Rock, the the of the job of is far in 1919 by a "Maybe the (of of the county Colonel Tom a the of c boast* of for a glory of the for the is the on What life to in Why, lots of get say it is 60 againf One or if not the No one old it 31 the be at all, and be to be a the the to go Fire! "Blowing could be On the Village is away" Olds of and one could on a Lenoir in 3, 1923, a fire of the the old the its could the Grover's in The the fire for the fire."63 its out in the Company it Chapel or 1923.61 His of John would on the be of the the out just on Street,62 The late the fire. "It was a thing to it a all the old run down, up These not had it not the A construction H.C. on a brick By the six construction in the Village as the on a boom.65 As for Main but it in 1924. This a the to was by the townfs women.66 William Morris, the laid out in the 1870s had a row of Street.67 of now be to the of the The fire of 1923 had also the for a fire in Blowing Rock. Citizens in 1926 a to buy a fire The Community Club $300 and Myra of her at which $1,000. Other to up with the $5,000. ap e rrees a ng The was in ° in — but it was too late to the old Inn, which fell victim to fire on October 29th. this the Volunteer Fire had no of Fire chief J. A. Klutz, and to as his He had a on the day of the To Town 1926,70 H.R authority was of a in 1914. was as Rock's Or a was tax with the which of the 71 in 1929. Other the 1975, A in few his �Page 32 / Chapter II The to be a jack of all tax in 1914, his a tax on with far beyond order. He 72 five of all collected. The was in until 1929. The the to by so he out of his He for All to on the public four a to the 1917 ten in 1896) or pay a fee to found in be to do in of a fine. When D.W. Wooten in 1923, he the not but "1 6 4 1 1 1 watch."73 Police thus put in the for tax in to of "forcing involuntary servitude" the with to live. only for the it was for to only a or 74 two on the job. be a in For a police it be In 1909, Willed: Miller the of Pinky Miller's a Miller him a The Pinky Baldwin and wife Jane at their primitive cabin. (Also pictured are He Ellen and Suzanne Coffey George and Elaine Sudderth.) to by An in 1910 a which in a of five for he in to for a third trial The Court his to be William was innocent.75 The of its to the to be a for distributors, while the In 1926, A. Linney, the United District Attorney in "Most in North Carolina, in my is by the 76 of the people." This fits in the of like who up Prohibition.77 up, but the too to be has the feet of an was $26 a the townfs the in for got his at the the her in the by the with their of The by be Cove it was The The of a for W.H. his our White industry;80 Grover of Mill81 the turn-of-the-century, the is Price Park, the a of a would go for Sr. to his 79 a tree. in in on the the Southern The Lumber Company of the Lost the the 82 Wilkesboro. �A Their The the in 1912 Company 23 1/2 to record!83 The be as The an at North to the It was 33 the by turnW.R. for 190,000 as the the which in this way in A bicycle, one the top of the The is on in the and the and tan are the flume. One is the of In this the of the is 100,000 feet the is a end of 100 and tan and laid on top of it. In this a amount of 50,000 of tan in a day can be the dry. The of water into the the and of bark, the run the top to the taking five or six hours.84 J.G log in repair.85 The on Lenoir. In 1917, the the in an by rail to — the 1916 in the and to to the Grover Robbins, Sr. (on /eft) in his uncle's Shulls Mill out in it was no and its �34 / II : <y,^ —^ -gqp up the via the Turnpike.86 in the too. A mill fire in 1925 cost to in and feet of For all its to of the Village by by lakes.88 was the of The was the left cutting. The lapwas for a In 1926, "The is all this fire of the of the will be for to comef89 The of the industry in a the Dr. "The the Young worn-out T to silk 90 to use lipstick." was an of The "Shulls Mill" was one of the era. "In the 1920s Whiting Company cut the on They the to a Mill, the set. Old has me cut one it When it in the the of the ten high. Around job a They a on a — which is to this day as Whores' Knob."91 Fin long I'm tall, Lord, I'm skinny I'm mean. When the women me You them scream. The on Dam, They think they're so fine, But I'll trie women on Whores* Knob Every doggone time. My old double bit, It's filed and keen, It's the choppin'est axe That's ever been seen. �A My axe I in The on Thinks Fm 35 my Got to the Filled up all the Got to the Or you can't a runnin* a I that log it's I it Till I my pay. a-coming, Coin1 by the Only to get my pay. I won't a WTien it comes pay day. TTie girls at Shulls Mill Got on But the on Wants money all the Goinf to the big fall. Coin' to I can Old Whiting's log Away up on Mountain, Makin9 the big fall. When I my pay Hain't work a-tall Moves to of the control the lumber River. The for the 1900, At H* Cone on the was who will such a would and and Our the value of our They built "The us."92 "that the be and the land" Linney's not For the as the They 93 a M. of an In 1907, Cone fire" to "Bring wealthy Linney no a of a to its the the cities of their They of the South set in bouquets of of colors. the and at to our has in us as the to like us by and all one in had �Page 36 / II their might shadowy air the to the music of the They artificial by the silver moon-beams—and all they might enjoy the the Now to of and to the of the saw mill, as it not the oak the the should for future timber. Col. Linney, do you know how you are the of by your the reserve? Do they they got you down as in of the that ever a of your in on God's earth? Why, if the was the for a years, with his ten of sulphur his the of with all this he could not perpetuate so an the mountain people as of the glory of country for the of generations.94 with of a to the In 1917, the North did a to the top of 95 reserve. Ultimately, the to in 1924 to Carolina, Virginia, on a at the The in as a Civilian the did not the was the the offer.96 The of at for a on the Carolina a by of the but the Camp Globe in 1933. The to 98 the blight. the in the 1920s, in a chestnut. This in the the the the for for the to Chestnut a the a as it The was a of the the for Today, is a In the of the it was as to The was a of to the The was a to the lumber industry alike." in the in a Gwyn of a to The had the the but in the 1920s 30s to it to the as a The by both was to pay taxes,101 Gwyn's to the but not it. Only World II, as his of the of the Linville Corporation, to the beauty,102 to to the a the of the for to Corps "United We Stand" a Yet, in the The o'clock in in the is of of is the of the 1913, to its as follows: Tuesday night the Merfs club in the the at the at the of its a Thursday a the a on Friday and to at 3 is the �STARTING A NEW CENTURY/Page 37 the one on Fridays in our is for six in all, in the Quite a busy Most the chief a for Joe Clarke was the in the a school every of the four of all church,103 for a in the for the to on like to of the of the town. to the the 273 in 1899, the its 458 AF &L AM, by The of of an in the lodge.104 Lodge church. When Clarke in 1910, he was a in Lenoir and his was by T.H. Coffey G.M. Sudderth,105 the in 1916.106 William a he He us a of "Uncle Joe" at his "He no the be, in of or or if the of the he would Uncle Joe1 as he is yet of by the in of the a up the a the to the late was to the for a communication"107 Local in for the at Oxford. They The its on the Village not as an per se, 108 but the of its members. For less in the of Masonry, a Merfs Club by They the Winter of 1913 at the on There would "a of of the in Rock, and yarns, the "109 by the formally the of the or or Topics the of a for to who by the the or Indian. No topic too hot to the suffrage.110 The out the in 1913, the of the "out of courtesy to our Blowing Rock are fair the in of the not one of the fair sex of our of Three for the ladies!"111 The of in was the when a occurrence [sic] for a will go out to town. to a a public in A time"112 with "quite a crowd not to a her, as it is a or a Social conventions Rock's for entertainment or service to the public. The Community Club was one of the the such for women. It's to the of Mary Carter's "Lend-A-Hand Library." The library in October, 1913, its in a on her to the House on Main 113 Street. Mrs. Carter in for the construction of the building.114 was in the her "it was her vision to see the of the in by and the evil one fall the of the street"115 The Mary Carter fell was to Virginia in 1916. Alice Wood a of the the of the House in 1918, in the 1923 fire. These few by all �Page 38 / Chapter H of the by Lend-A-Hand 1928. The in to the in the 13, saw the the five Child Life, 1936, the had six of a the and to the In the last entities. The Community Club did the for with the of the 1930s, no The Community Club in the The Katty Klub room was very Club work.117 An the Club in January.119 The in 1923 was the to and bounty Library,120 of to The the a for the town. The to to buy a for the children. Pupils hot who not at Club The Community Club was involved in to its the did as to aid the its too, and For the Club, the of the A at the of two of groups, worthy of a at the of (on 4, 1925) at her on Street. The living yellow and chrysanthemums. Cards and by Johnson, Lee Crisp, Dorothy Hayes. Coffey was as a of the club, consisting of Jello with cream, and cocoa. A was spent.123 The Club, at its this 21, 1928) Holshouser, carried out a honoring Lincoln The was by the of America the Coffey the and led in This was by the of the Gettysburg by To by Mrs. Cannon; of the Life of Greene; Sketch of the Life of Lincoln' Mrs. Greene; Anecdotes Pertaining to Lincoln' Mrs. I.E. Story; 'Story of Holshouser; 'Lincoln's Favorite Poem* Webb. by Mrs. W.L. of the by and Mary Williams.124 Such Dorothy of the in our did was first had of the is St. the first a the Cone by Not all Village. Box The and who is the a the of role in the of the with youth Community Club and her first but the 1923.125 They, the aid of Mrs. Fire in at in 1915, the Camp.126 127 the Boy in 1914 as well A Tribe of Lone Scouts, in 1915 and on the Boy was in 1916 by on 128 was the of Greene. These but a few of the to into was as the of American life. to be the of a club, of course. in the as for or church, or just for the 1930s, awe by and by of or at Mrs. the in the sing and the clan stay a odd and �A 39 on.129 cows, its to the the set up in the Such c The given a while ago 0uly 1913) by Mexican Joe1 well who, without the of a a big for the for the in air or the for the an the or two in a with wit or with but of to on at the and o'clock, not a out to he to the Union in town!130 It in be to the hilt. The Rock, as People just of July, at the the was a by to the of our citizens, gazing at feet was to be Henry V. 9:30 an of to for of the In 1912, by 4th of July at Rock, North Carolina, Be the Pole', and lots of other f at 12 o clock with the of the AM to 3:00 PM. Fun for and the of July just you are or you will lots of fun, Plenty to see and to eat, 10 o'clock at and the of your life.131 go In and in 1915 the "an to was the Cubs the show"132 The to a sport, both the the for of a to to a 11:30 Aho, the Cubs in 1923, a — Cubs 60 — ML Zion 14.134 The town school, be no The of 12, 1928,135 in fact all the to a the fun,133 of the The The left Mt Zion in the School Licks Town In an exciting ten-inning Saturday, the Blowing Rock school the town by a of 11 to 9. Although both a little out of ball plays, among which a double play by high school Bynum Crisp hit, a home run to left field. The line-ups: Donald Greene, rf; Crisp, c; Clarence Greene, Bolick, 3b; William p; Holshouser, ss; cf; Story, If; Glenn Coffey, IK Ibwn: Mays, cf; 3b; L ss; Drentine, c; Ward, Ib; G. p; Greene, 2b; Ed Pitts, rf; Claud B.K. Jenkins, If. The by innings: High .000 310 140 2-11 Town Ill 020 220 0-9 �at In the of the one to it a was a The in 1904, Linville a in the 1890s. The for a the only was to the J. LR and CV had the and in the By 1913, to the of the Green Hotel 365 the of the Company. ^, In 1915, the Company an •»_. park neighbor Rufus L. Patterson to a on for five construction for 5/9ths of any The Company the if the nine-hole was a it be to a full Seven in 1922, a was to to holes, the on one of six, the are He to Green Par in for to playing The Norwood Golf Course to pay all for the 136 expansion. a in the North The was of it was the which up the the was The cut out off by the of to be out The work to the the be The in, but the the hollows in the not the to be in "down the quickly in tees are a at and At Mules, oxen, horses, wagons, dynamite and plenty of muscle were needed to fashion a golf course from the Appalachian Forest. late The a two feet tall in A full of was the own tees of wet by with to a tee. to the for a to thirty to would to by �A NEW two would 75 a at the 25 tip. While the golf course to the of visitors their the Company a point of it as a public course. Even the Country Club with the in 1950, The Country Club did not buy the until 1973. Since it has with has primarily guests.137 Most dwellers. They 41 Old Goforth Road makes way for the back nine in 1922. in 1900 not in the country on of selfsufficiency. John Walt born in 1882, up the full of tourism had felt. Golfers enjoy a day on the links as a Model T cruises past on the Turnpike. (Green Park Hotel in the background ) Back then we raised nearly everything we had to eat. The whole family would work in the and then would help in harvest. We would dry everything in the sun, it the only way we had to preserve anything. The would be hung up on when they turned dark got very dry, we called them leather breeches. They really good on a cold winter day, cooked with a chunk of pork. 1 remember how good fried apple pies were after you the dried overnight.... I worked in the business many a day for ten hours or more sixty cents. I know we could go to the with a horse and a for ten dollars you could buy everything you needed to out the winter. You got a of coffee, hundred pounds of flour, fifty pounds of salt, twenty-five pounds of sugar....We the syrup from our own trees, we had to eat, not to mention trout from the streams, and wild turkey from the woods.138 Tourism the Southern of life. The or "cottagers" as they The WW and the Cone W. was a of the South Carolina Court. Dr. Mrs. Carter to Blowing Rock for as did of the These the country into the economy of the town in to As early as 1897, Lenoir IW. Thomas that "Blowing was People, walking, driving, on bicycles, or Vendors on hand in numbers with melons, grapes, that the as much as $1,000 a day."139 To the Mary Nelson Carter a North Carolina in 1900, which her criticism for inscnsitivity due to its use of on the of the poor mountaineer.140 Her work actually a of for the which at work. The following account is of a an was at the Elliott art school: "Is that a ghost or a cow?" I to a "T'ain't one," Mrs. Smith. "It's one o'them full of 'em" she added. "A body'd think they could git biggotty.,,,"141 Mrs. Smith reminiscing: "When I young, one o'them to up on the hillside, fellers paintin' picturs. The mountings is plum o'work to do if they tried. on 'em's right Us gals a o'what he �Page 42 / Chapter H posirf for him. But, Lor' as I Ma, I'd a ruther work in the corn. A body plum tired standin' or Them he haddn't no o'me than that dog's got. I let on like I thought for it to hurt a body's feelin's. He a mighty man hisself..." Mrs. her with her while she our at his work. "That over all the mornin"' she "I see him when I up to hunt the cow. That thing you see is his umbrell. I he's the sunll him" she chuckling. "I o'the t'other day what she put powder on her for. She it to her fadinf Mrs. Smith. Then, her sunbonnet and her face on her she "The sun is mighty hot it won't my gownd," she laughing heartily at her own joke. "I got a but I if to to preachin' Sunday school"141 If the of this art the While of The At the There is a the are We your for the you carry home.142 While the was to this a had as a of the to day. When one of in the to in our in culinary to- say, is a with given to of things. to for life. We eat as as as in cosmic for this Rock's of : • William of 1900s, was not l the a ff " 4' " Cycling in the Village - and the a in 1911 to of an poor log : : Hr::;::sp for He ::i as a a in the by ' " jr -" /" J^s "" he the Mid-Summer of change. His of would-be for papers c for the % • / grow, this and ' 1^;yii / the of this town not with the for of their for the and indifference." Certainly, local churches, but they suspicious of In the of 1913, the an event. An drew 2,500 and G.M. the to was "in of our mountain the who in the of write of . . - •• ,., -.with '•-••-"<* " " whites^144 r fc SPHjvV5 ^e - : ! in 1913 for the use of "it is it .;iif -. """ ?: " r " ' the to be derived from the of a berry patch. The hot rip of the thorn line of blood that at the surface, but not overflow, the tingling sensation body for a moment, — for this you willingly the that for hours touch Moreover, you would the so of the feel of the sun, of the and for the rich booty the that a her of the in humor, W. which was in Blowing Rock, she of to that "he family,1 for the this Interesting* up north to 'show' how of North Carolina live!"145 �A it to say, this is still a is by Just as 45 a in to the of of on living, People to to the of the at Christmas), to Churchman until for "Galacking," the plant which was in a pursuit. an in 1902 for two which 146 for the of King VII. to Teddy at the White House.147 H.C. as a at 1924, doing a of 10,000 to dry, Thorton the of his by a root factory in 1909.149 Grover of his in the 1920s the Wildwood Company.150 the as a for on to He 151 to for to states. the of the with in an in the Workshop; a in of W.G The in 1907 with for The Rock by by the Mrs. in 1910. the a on sale for as "a bell for the house, an rustic for the pump, articles"152 It When of 1916 The War concern. Mid-July of 1916 saw the a "To on for to join the The Trout It would not be at the to a For or the of The for the to to hit County. On the the the in by the last be futile, indeed....But all demolished."153 The fell was in and in the Blowing to both Lenoir all communication the them. at the Cone the Flannery Fork. in Conefs lifetime. Fortunately, the at as did the old by Chetola.154 The Turnpike was in a up the to Green Park the in a to The up and was we not this at all. The first ten of this a of this just a bed. The houses, and a church and carried and left the Twice we to us through. Once we were stuck in the middle of a we fording it half an hour we could get help. After out of this we to climb the mountain. all the route, and so badly that there hardly room to get by. To excitement, when five from Green Park a heavy us. �Page 44 / II We got within 1 1/2 the his we out. we in a the as Providence would it, the the at us as if we the dead.155 The The Whiting of the the cut, the investments.158 Those Green Hotel, on felt in the in the county. The old on a to The of of Lumber Company Much of the the the A the by out to a firm shortly not to was at the 157 Nature's anger. World War I, the the the of our community. left and to "fight the Hun." At home, the less as and a of and far the of the For a town, Rock*s contribution The of who Crump, Melvin Cox, Ward, Walter Austin, Niley Cook, Vannoy, Klutz, Clark Brown, Charles Downs, "Mr. the Office." in the unit in to — E of the 113th Artillery.159 Those left the war A Cross at the $101, fifty a admission.160 Cross to overseas.161 The was the site of a war songs.162 In July of 1918, a Dupont, at the Church in a by WW. Stringfellow.163 In a Convention downtown, by throughout the Governor T.W. Bickett.164 victory was was of to the The of the Cross led for aid to the the Armenian-Syrian Fund, the "suffering Serbians" out of the of the Society touched everyone. in Truly, up is the Village to The He to do. The The of the by to it is his "the the use of in Music on on the the of at of the times"165 a of the on this at a to the was not the only one — if go wrong?"167 he "yet and bad horizon, which 'clouds* can be only by the was by the in the of a is on the of the of now-a-days, the unattractive, the of the day by the soft on the day of the of the time," in "boisterous of the town"166 a in 1913 "Our to up the In his and are clouds1 on the the "Sun of Righteousness! "168 The he a "Tend to Your Own Society" at �STARTING A NEW 45 a town be a a tulip.169 By 1915, the was to be to an to the of Many of the town's a which in the county "It is proposed" "to a of the winter, for the of our town to the of for the to up the habit, vulgarity, the little of our town, for the young to for a and will be eliminated.,..to in the Public Library, which is to be the of all work, whether for or at of might be for the of in a our much 170 community" No is of this due to an of First, in December, 1915, for the in all in due to a Shortly the group of Rock in the service. Those two of the 171 which by youthful exuberance. The perception of a still however, the of Mayor D.R Coffey in October, 1916, blew the with $80. "The community is up the robbery," wrote, "the in the of the town, only to our lot who with or lock bar them, no the proverbial of days."172 When the town in 1917, a was in an to children off the out of trouble. Article 15 "That it be for any the age of fifteen to be upon the of the Town of the hour of o'clock P.M. or to be one half hour upon the town" The curfew age two in 1922, but to "all places" which now to at 8 o'clock on 9 o*clock on Saturday, due to the .at Dr. drug were 173 in 1920 in 1922, Sunday entertainment. With in question, the of alcohol consumption once a dominant concern to community. For who intent on Blowing Rock's reputation, in the A in 1922 a at the Church, with an of forty-seven. They to the "great evil" of alcohol They led by prominent W.L. Holshouser President, T.H. Coffey, Vice-President, J.H. Winkler secretary.174 into other channels. County a which other communities never a in Rock. While there a black population, they mostly of summer visitors or cooks, musicians, or with' the hotels. Local blacks could did vote, but the May November elections place off-season, so the political of the black never important. Nevertheless, Ku Klux Klan in county in 1920s. Their major concerns Prohibition of conservative Christian morality. The Democrat favorable to cross-burnings, the for with in up the liquor trade.175 The only a county man, who white, to for to his children to Sunday school.176 At a when a throughout poor, rural south, Blowing Rock revival in full evangelical work, contributions.177 �Page 46 / Chapter II the the the 1920s was the of a the of 1924. Front- page t ; ~ *•* - > ^ '""" - ^B' '-'**" At 2 a.m. Christmas Blowing Rock the their of by JP of in such as they might in the to Thomas Coffey, Lee Robbins, Thomas Coffey Sr., and Jim Sudderth relax The was in of the on Main Street. building, and the car on up the where every in the was to say and and dimensions. Mr. Craig was the due only to the fact he the to The Bank and the and did not the vandals. Each in turn got the of the which left ruin in its The car on out to the Road, no at It discovered when that the the powder of the the town, being a lot of it missing.178 A Christmas, but the will traditionally with the celebration. A A of fire of 1923 only foundations. a the 1930s as a tough her briefly, but she the in her. Even dynamite couldn't to the 30s of unique town. the her of Beauty and commerce mingle on Main Street /n 1933. �STARTING A NEW CENTURY/Page 47 NOTES 1. Democrat, May 16, 1901 2. Watauga Democrat, May 7, 1891 3. Watauga Democrat, November 7, 1895 4. Democrat, June 11, 1896 and May 19, 1898 5. Democrat, July 14, 1927 6. Watauga Democrat, December 17, 1914 7. Democrat, June 27, 1895 8. Democrat, May 25, 1899 9. Watauga Democrat, May 16, 1901 10. Democrat , May 19, 1904 11. Democrat, July 4, 1907 12. Democrat, July 20, 1899 13. Democrat, July 18, 1901 14. Van Noppen, Ina W. and John J. Western North Carolina Since the Civil War. Boone, NC; The Appalachian Consortium 1973, 15. Lenoir News-Topic, April 29, 1910 16. Watauga Democrat, November 30, 1922 17. Barringer, Osmond. "An Automobile Trip to Blowing Rock", in Country Life Magazine, June 1909, 18. Hickory Daily Record, January 12, 1968 19. Watauga Democrat, August 21, 1913 20. Democrat, October 22, 1891 21. Arthur, John Preston. A History of Watauga County. 22. Watauga Democrat, 25, 1910 23. Watauga Democrat , December 13, 1911 24. Watauga Democrat , February 24, 1916 25. Democrat, July 28, 1927 26. Watauga Democrat , October 27, 1927 27. Watauga Democrat, April 10, 1913 28. Democrat, July 24, 1913 29. Watauga Democrat, July 8, 1897 30. Democrat, 22, 1901 31. Democrat, July 19, 1916 32. Interview with Carrie M. Buxton July 16, 1987 33. Town Council minutes, January 9, 1926 34. Democrat, July 21, 1927 35. Democrat, July 28, 1927 36. Watauga Democrat, November 18, 1926 37. Watauga Democrat, April 15, 1915 S.C.: Southern Historical Press. 1976 (Reprint of 1915 edition), p. 157. pp 199-200. �II 38. Democrat, August 8, 1912 39. Democrat , April 15, 1915 40. Democrat, 41. Town Council 22, 1915 October 6, 1919 and October 31, 1921 42. Democrat, 18, 1926 43. Democrat, November 4, 1926 44. Van Noppen op. dr., pp. 110-111 45. Town Council May 26, 1912 and May 24, 1913 46. Town Council Minutes, October 9, 1913 47. Town Council Minutes, February 23, 1914 48. Town Council Minutes, March 16, 1914 49. Town Council Minutes, 25, 1914 50. Town Council Minutes, April 6, 1914 51. Town Ordinances in Minute May (?) 1917 52. Town Council Munutes, June 1, 1926 53. Democrat, February 4, 1915 54. Town Council Minutes, February 1, 1920 and April 9, 1920 55. Democrat, 8, 1919 56. Democrat , November 4, 1926 57. Democrat, January 26, 1972 58. Watauga Democrat, November 4, 1926 59. Democrat, March 6, 1924 60. Charlotte Observer, July 13, 1919 61. Watauga Democrat, September 13, 1923 62. "1923 Fire Almost Destroys Community"Tfie Blowing Rock Story. Page 12. Mrs. Robbins"T/ie 63. "A Visit 64. Democrat, October 18, 1923 65. Democrat, March 20, 1924 66. Democrat, 67. Democrat, April 30, 1916 68. Democrat, 69. Story. Page 29. Democrat, December 16, 1926 11, 1919 and Town Council Minutes, November 17, 1924 24, 1976 70. Watauga Democrat, December 23, 71. Town Council Minutes, May 16, 1929 72. Town Council Minutes, March 30, 1914 73. Town Council Minutes, May 19, 1923 74. Town Council 75. Watauga Democrat, July 8, 1909, September 22, 1910, and September 14, 1911 �STARTING A NEW CENTURY/Page 49 76. Watauga Democrat, September 24, 1926 77. Interview with Wade Brown, July 13, 1987 78. Democrat, July 22, 1926 79. The Blowing Rocket, October 25, 1963 80. Watauga Democrat, December 17, 1914 81. Interview with Lena Robbins July 16, 1987 82. Interview with John Christian Berhardt July 1, 1987 and newspaper accounts. 83. Democrat, February 22, 1912 84. Democrat, September 23, 1909 85. Interview with J.C July 1, 1987 86. Watauga Democrat, January 18, 1917 87. Democrat, August 27, 1925 88. Watauga Democrat, January 8, 1920 89. Democrat, May 20, 1926 90. The Blowing Rocket, October 25, 1963 91. Warner, Anne. Traditional American Folk Songs. Syracuse NY: Syracuse University 92. Democrat, October 24, 1907 93. Democrat, 94. 1984. pp 310-311. Democrat, October 17, 1907 95. Frome, Michael. 96. 18, 1926 in High Places: The Story of the Great Smokey Mountains. Garden City NY: and Company. 1966. p 179. Democrat, November 13, 1924 97. The Charlotte Observer, July 5, 1924 98. The Rocket, June 17, 1933 99. Interview with Hugh Morton June 23, 1987 and Watauga Democrat February 16, 1928 and 100. The 20, 1926 Rocket, July 6, 1933 and September 2, 1933 101. Asheville Citizen, January 31, 1943 102. Hickory Record, June 15, 1972 103. Watauga Democrat, January 23, 1913 104. Democrat, July 13, 1899 105. Watauga Democrat, November 24, 1910 106. Watauga Democrat, January 6, 1916 107. Democrat, June 26, 1916 108. Democrat, March 28, 1912 An excellent Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press. 1984. 109. Democrat, January 16, 1913 110. Democrat, account of Masonry is found in: Dumenil, Lynn. 26, 1903, January 23, 1913, and January 16, 191 111. W^tauga Democrat, January 16, 1913 112. Democrat, February 12, 1914 and American Culture 18804930. �113. Democrat, November 5, 1903 114. Democrat, January 30, 1908 115. Democrat, January 30, 116. Letter from Alice Wood in Community Club Files. 117. The Rocket, July 22, 1933 118. Democrat, September 27, 1928 119. Democrat, January 24, 1929 120. Democrat, 15, 1928 121. Letter in Blowing Rock Community Club files, 1934-35. 122. The Blowing Rocket, July 22, 1933 and Community Club 123. Democrat, 124. Democrat, February 23, 1928 125. The 10, 1925 Rocket, July 22, 1933 126. Watauga Democrat, November 18, 1915 127. "1914 Clean Up," Blowing Rock Story, 1983, page 17. 128. Democrat, June 22, 1916 129. Interview with Lena Robbins July 16, 1987 and The Blowing Rocket July 22, 1933 130. Watauga Democrat, July 17, 1913 131. Democrat, June 13, 1912 132. Democrat, March 4, 1915 133. Watauga Democrat, June 1, 1916 134. Watauga Democrat, May 24, 1923 135. Democrat, May 17, 1928 136. "Blowing Rock Country Club: History of Its Golf Course" by David J. Craig, Jr. September/October 1980. Provided courtesy of Mrs. David J. Craig, Jr. 137. Interview with Gwyn Harper, Jr. July 29, 1987 138. Times Gone By by Robert W. Harman: Privately printed. 1973 (?). 139. Lenoir News-Topic, September 8, 1897 140. Watauga Democrat, January 30, 141. Carter, Mary Nelson. North Carolina Sketches, Chicago: AC. McClurg & Co. 1900. 142. Morley, W. The Carolina Mountains, Boston; The Houghton-Mifflin Company. 1913. 143. Democrat, April 13, 1916 144. 364. Democrat, August 28, 1913 145. Watauga Democrat, November 16, 1911 146. Democrat, May 15, 1902 147. Correspondence in the William 148. Watauga Democrat, August 28, 1924 149. Democrat, May 4, 1909 150. Watauga Democrat, May 6, 1926 collection, courtesy of Manuscripts Department, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill �STARTING A NEW CENTURY /Page 51 151. Watauga Democrat, March 21, 1912 and William 152. Democrat, July 7, 1910 and July 1, 1915 153. Collection, loc. cit. Democrat, July 19, 1916 154. "Blowing Rock Memories" by Ruth Vardell and Gaston 155. TTie Blowing Rocket, August 8, 1986 157. Watauga Democrat, August 17, 1916 158. Democrat, July 19, 1916 and interview with J.C. Bemhardt July 1, 1987 159. Watauga Democrat, December 23, 1915, July 26, 1917, and March 27, 1919 160. Democrat, August 23, 1917 161. Watauga Democrat, January 10, 1918 162. Democrat, June 20, 1918 163. Democrat, July 18, 1918 164. Watauga Democrat, September 12, 1918 165. Watauga Democrat, July 1, 1915 166. Watauga Democrat, November 11, 1915 167. Democrat, April 3, 1913 168. "1914 Clean-Up," The Blowing Rock Story 1983, 17 (Note: the speech is mistakenly 169. Watauga Democrat, June 5, 1913 170. Democrat , November 18, 1915 171. Watauga Democrat, December 23, 1915 172. Watauga Democrat, October 26, 1916 173. Town Council Minutes: Ordinances of 1917, 30, 1921, April 19, 1922, and May 15, 1922 174 Democrat, December 7, 1922 175. Democrat, June 5, 1924, July 24, 1924, and February 12, 1925 176. Watauga Democrat, September 8, 1927 177. Watauga Democrat, November 25, 1926 178. Watauga Democrat, January 1, 1925 as April 1914) �Page 52 / Chapter 111 �GREAT ESTATES AND PROMINENT PEOPLE/Page 53 CHAPTER III Great Estates and Prominent People Ultimately, the true of any town, and vibrant intriguing Numerous individuals, of contributed to the of this quaint, but vigorous, Rock, with its appeal—its and accomplished of rare individuals, to it an and richness. These and colorful Time and has the of for to the its well-known of the are in this It is, all the in this It is all the are at the of its "No has had an and of vitality, in this Village's the an and its the fair of a be so as and is to the of mountains"1 The a in the 1900s, one of the in North Carolina^Chetola Chetola, of rest"2 the but all this for the of the the Village as we it The as Chetola was in by Lot The Mr. 100 the of North for the of 5 an on the Daniel Trail, the only two on the at the of a a for the coach.5 The of to the County's first Lot the a Greene.6 the Civil War, Len his a of two a a room,7 he his it a house, the in the Village. He a row of the to Dr. Chalmers a first the Village the of 1884, "Mr. Mill was the to in 100 ago. In Len one of the few on the for the the lat lands" This was "Silverlake" it for its The and as Zeb the of the of Mr, so he to out on the to Not did the rest and for it also the only in and the to Church, a of who on the for 18 and ran the mill the late this of �to the of who Chief their com into Mr. Church's not for his services, but would a of he for This of was "tolling" was very to in years.9 During ice for the community. With no ice to At you could buy 100 of ice for 10 cents.10 1892, the their property to William and his Susie.11 The Anniston, to and was in Hyde Park, New York, the son of an priest. Dr. at the Church in Hyde William school with the New Yorkers (two of whom the of Teddy Roosevelt.) William's the of an intellectual who had of in China.12 was one of six Like his he was an 6 feet tall, a of humor.13 Some say he Grant, that he was as a to he was at by his A "born teacher" she William to the Civil War, the New York to Virginia finally in Dr. as of St. John's Church 1869 his in 1894.15 At the age of 17, William to work in a in the he 16 of the Squibby Switch Company, a he for 30 years. In 1882, he Parker, an of Duncan T Parker.17 Miss Parker, in to her It is she charm "18 In 1890, Mrs. at his 19 the of the First National in Anniston, Alabama. Through the Mr. Stringfellow*s to with his tuberculosis Mrs. cooler her husband's health, so she to the known as Silverlake.20 The the property Chetola, for to "haven of rest" the one of the beautiful private in Rock.21 The villa an architectural it the of The a simple four-room home, greatly a structure.22 The eight-bedroom Chateau or five a living library, den/card room, an which an pantry walk-in all the done.23 The oak which on the in the floors.24 ceiling and and a of the of its and the the villa the at bay.25 Chetola was one of the few at the to electricity.26 The an which ran a the was the a was in a or in the kitchen, into the as 1912, the villa / • 1.1 • L L • w • D i u was lighted by acetylene & J but eventually electricity was gas, c . „ , C - ^ H Susie Parker Strmgrellow (right) with her sisters Minnie Parker Hegemeyer o / / ; j fcenterj and FarJcer Noble by the mill.28 �GREAT ESTATES AND PROMINENT PEOPLE/Page 55 Mr. the and had in horticulture The Stringfellow touch can be in a of he a of not to North Carolina.29 He the mill in it with the trout in the The fill the 7-acre into the to the Mississippi.30 The was a with the of r Rock. Swimming the the "~ "" ** " ". . ice was in the ' """ ' ' , '*^H^^- • winter.31 In to the Stringfellow built a house, home, stable.32 The lavishly, for One of Mr. Stringfellow's was Elliott the who had a in Rock.33 It is the of both living in Ferry, Virginia. Mr. Stringfellow's at the Church in Ferry during the Civil War Mr. Daingerfield^s in Ferry at this time.34 her in "during the era, the lanterns,"35 and Chalmers Davidson the of Mrs. Stringfellow,36 While the Rock's to they very in the Rock Church, The Church of the Holy Spirit.37 Mrs. a Sunday of the church.38 no children of her own, she took a in the of a to help children of the area.39 willing to to in need.40 Both Mr. Mrs. for the of County to as the Cross the County fed the "unfortunates" of the 1900s.41 In a School Association, with the the Civic the of the Fire Girls.42 The Stringfellows1 in the of the a of their life In 43 1914, they the Scout Troop, which at Chetola. In 1916, they money to convert a of the of the public a for the youth.44 In 1918, Mr. 45 all five each. the was not by in the in it was An in the in 1916 "...it is to say, of not with the they to ...most of for the uplift of the as a yet to do for us what, we are to do for ourselves"46 As William a for life to the he his of with In 1917, he a to the to "You too the of our the onions, both of which, will in County 47 any in the I of" a �In the 1900s, felt a County was not by or Mr, to the County and in the He was a of the County in 1917 a in in oil to Mr. was a of his The this "I it be a 48 County any oil or else on our trails." As the the he was to be 49 "cured" of tuberculosis. to build a Church in to thank, God for her The for the Church in 1918, Mrs. the of her on 7, 1920 Bright^ a condition which she for years.50 William the of the Church, a to his The rock on the church by The has it to lay the in the of the a which him. At the was the doing as it is "borrowed" a the the say the of the Church is a rock!51 The by W. of the Court, in to Mrs. are on a the "She was an of the a lover of the a of the right, a foe to a of she found it:"52 Upon her left $1000 to the to County citizens,53 The P. Church was on 7, 1921 by J. M. 54 Homer. Thanks to Mrs. will, and to of her the of Rock a church in which to In 1919, due to his sold Chetola to the of North Carolina. The Holts, the for less the in 1923 to Charlottean, L. the of has it Mr. the "Had-er-way" it his Ernestine, who him to the property.55 Ms. Annie in her jRodt, the when by the �AND is a of a art; an as a of to the The he is to its are like a bit of to part.56 57 fair, the a in in 1925, While a so was for sale,57 the Mr. to of its its He a of his to the its Luther truly a He on a in the of the Valley, in 1873, He was the of the son of the late William He was his in of an his in a his He the Wickliffe Rectory School but to to the to with his He as he to say, "My go on get the of a but felt too a young man.1*60 He in County with his the age of 2?, Mr. J. T. Lupton, a in the Coca-Cola girl to to to the Coca-Cola Mr. in for a to for the to in field,62 Luther was a his his the to the south.63 They to to 64 but Mr. Charlotte, North Carolina, in 1895. he say he it was the in the in "I 65 if I did not in this I go to the or to Atlanta," In 1902, J. T, a in $3,000 $500 he had in $1,000 to his In of the he with the he J. T7s Crisman. 67 Virginia, her a store. the city in a Coca-Cola to the and The was but the in a for the the With his he ten for the In 1926, like so she to live his in the �Page 58 / III of the Carolinas "68 As as he was in Mr. lost of the on to him^his He six Luther, and and for and his wife.69 He his to be a of his as well, the Coca-Cola a his son sons-in70 law joined the firm. To the of Charlotte, Mr. his to for the The as Asheville, and Crest. Then one the the Village of Rock. in love the its and its this was he the rest of his summers.71 Thus, in 1926, Luther and his wife the as "Had-er-way" and it Chetola.72 Mr. of the for the sum of $36,000.73 He the to 169 in its In 1928, he the mill, the the old a rock structure.75 the top of the he a his "T" day to and the Village.76 At his the it was to the the in 1935, he built a much of the "Big House" a he and on winter to or to business. The of his in the in wood. He this it his to Mrs. Snyder^s CJietola.77 As his began own families, he built a on the so be to and in the of the Village. The the of Mr. Mrs. Christine, Jr. and Luke. In 1932, he a for his These Mr. and and Caroline Mr. Mrs. Anne, Chris. This was unique; Mr. his dry wit, both exactly the duplex »-• i • *••-< y • "Twinola" The W.B. Garrison house was built in 1938 for the Garrisons Billy, Snyder, Lee. Each in May, the would the Lenoir, with them cooks, on the a for employees.78 was a for and Mr. the first 79 a alley. the on the H. Cone was a the Mr. his the in Chetola to be the in the The to see who could the fish.80 on Mr. the a on the lawn. It was one of the big of the 81 no one to it. Among the of Chetola the huge, flower Only with her of Arbors, ivy, on the of phlox, In of the "Big House" was a bed Iris with in colors.83 be on to as the "Coca-Cola �/ Page 59 in the with of wa also an old and and she a She was not her to a at and an for the Pe°pl^ You of the the she was like the for the family.86 of for its it was a his his Iva, his son for Mr, by the to for the Church his the of to at The in to a to use was or on the Mr. his son for the His to the in the has it was a for the for his of to toss not to be of any was a in the the and the the to in the in a in 1948, to the W.C. of Charlotte, in 195L91 to his 195? at the age he He left to his it in the a a n 1972 it sold.93 As in i i & for the Mr. in 1940.90 He was a but his and his in the the he a to the is 321/Business. He the 50 an an at the It of his to the people of not his help.94 He the to work 95 the on the Estate. At a to for Luther He in the Church. his to the in his by the family.96 As in this the 1900s, of the day to the felt a to for the community.97 In 1946, he of the Rock Community Center. on the a for to go for a It a of worship,98 For the a Center.99 an of the this to the "for the for civic for of distress"100 A and an of the and the its and To this the J.L is to the 14 of As of he by an to the tO of J good F L Luther C J Tate - L i ^ r L/- /IA»»X F /- » Gofer ^ Lloyd r i ^ �Page 60 / Chapter III as the Cross, Boy Scouts, Community Club.103 the of the Rock Country Club, of on He was the Club's president.104 In Charlotte, as of the Chamber of Commerce "during of the of the and was a for the YMCA and Army,105 He was of the and in Charlotte, of the Cannon Airport and Chairman of the Life Company of Charlotte.106 He was a and life of Myers Church, 107 a still in his honor. Early in his Mr. Snyder in local which "bolstered the life of the 108 community rolls" He "this policy has a one, that a community in community"109 His was a not only to his family, but to who him. His and will be It is a to a Daingerfield Of the who found solitude, in the tiny of Rock, the Elliott His in of the in country, the in New "fork the National Gallery in Washington.110 Elliott born in Ferry, Virginia, on March 26, 1859.111 He a of an who to Virginia in the 17th Century, the son of Captain John Elliott Wickham De Daingerfield,112 He a of North Carolina the Civil War his by General E. Lee, to command the in Fayetteville.113 He his in the House, Lafayette visited in 1825.114 Young Elliott his as a one his Archie, a box of watercolors.115 One of his first was at the age of twelve. Entitled "Girl With a Rabbit," the pronounced "quite perceptive" for so young,116 Determined to all he could about art, Elliott with a local with Mrs. William MacKay, a painter, in the Chinese style.117 He that if he to to be a he to Fayetteville. To and instruction, he an for six months in Norfolk, Virginia.118 Elliott a child in the the Civil War up during the Reconstruction Period. He proud of his if he to the on he would to in 119 to view his childhood his objectively. So, at the age of 21, with only a few to his he for New York City.120 In order to support himself, he a job Christmas but found he not for type of employment.121 Within a month, he an to Walter a of the National of Design. Elliott for out and up the Mr. In for his services, Elliott instruction his to every the first class.122 It he boy to instructor.123 was obvious. Within a of in New York, not only did he rise to "instructor" in a very well-known but he sold his first picture, "The a of Wine" for $150.124 In 1884, he left the with Mr. the American this was a point in Elliott's the Mr. tell art connoisseurs who to a him, "There is a young up the me. Go buy a him" The two until Mr. in 1894.125 In 1884, Elliott French, a of French of Wilmington, 126 North Carolina. He his to New York. The winter, he very ill this disease.127 On from his doctor, he to to 128 a could and for $15 a month. The up the in a was and but well it. According to Mr. "I the and �AND has of wonders. It in the in his In 1891, Mr. The like itself!"129 of North Carolina"130 to to he was to his New York to of the "The for the 50 the to the 19th Century. his at 61 of my of West Fifty-fifth the Holbein like the houses.131 He was in the York art This 1891, joy his child. The was not to his his in 1892 a "The Mothers"132 Three in 1895, at the in Mr. fell in of Louisville, Kentucky, the of Grainger.133 "a beauty" a face." To Elliott, her "like a incarnated!1134 one two if it "physical It it instantly"135 was to her in 1896, a "Madonna Child" The for $1,000 to Mr. of Metropolitan 136 Life and was the of his to be in Rock, The was on the of the of TJie Churchman. of the the United As a of the of as a He was to in the "The Child of Mary," "The Holy Family" "The of the Clark in 1902.137 a a to his by the Gospels."138 He for "art is the out of God by which the are the of the spirit."139 day to he in of a in his 140 prayed. In 1902, he a of for the of the in City. 141 his for the of Ann. the 1900s, was with his life. to two Gwendolyn, the felt he he His this period his In 1900, the "Windwood" in on -Drive, the in of Mr. in "High Noon" the "Grape Arbor"143 The by is on St. Mary^s of the Hills Church is by as the Cottage " The very in the at home.144 In Mr. for his of the art at at the this home.145 In 1911, by the Fe to the Canyon.146 For a he his to to this The he to be for to to by rail to see the An in a by the of she "marry an will for two will be a in the the a big red in the The was for Mr. the red the Canyon. With Blind Jenny's 147 was at last fulfilled. As his to He to "What �do friends?" was to do for and his William to a for the Church, which at the was he to on was to a In 1918, the Church he his and it Hills "149 The a which "on the of the the the at If her is in the will be a if in the will be full of want."150 The in the Anna Grainger Daingerfield with daughters Marjorie and Gwendolyn on the of "Windwood". "comes in out of the the of a sun. the a lily of purity. The of the to is fairly with the of The Dawn, one of the her robe. Life light, a miracle of beauty, follow her coming. Rhododendron of color her, while all the of the at her It is truly the of the Hills1 of who the on the day of — the blossom."151 One arm a which the of of to the say that if a of is the neck, the will 40 but if the will be and of sunshine.152 of Mr. are in the the are all to One look at the the is local.153 Mr. was the of "The of the Hills," but no one to its When 154 he got the for picture, "On my knees" In honor of Elliott his gift, Susie P. Stringfellow Memorial Church St. Mary's 155 of the Hills. Today, by the Church to the are by the way in it the of the Blowing Rock area.156 No is in the say he at "Windwood" on Drive; the in his at "Westglow" in 1917. A in as a at "Windwood," to as the unfolded.157 However, "The the for the are nothing of a of the the front of his home." The the is to is "Westglow"158 "The Madonna of the Hills" in 1916, it be the was at 'Windwood' at "Westglow." In 1916, his "Westglow" a the with a of Mountain.159 The ison the The was _ . f, .,, , „_, , _,__ „.„ „. St. Mary, s^rT,The . Damgerneld s masterpiece Madonna Of The Hills in c A Of L for the which Elliott H///S CAurc/i �AND as "never "Westglow" the the of Elliott through five was / Page 63 clouds, or mists"160 was in the a kitchen, parlor.161 When by 162 by the artist. In the hall by the Other in the Governor Winthrop a his home.164 The two-story They by to the of the an DaingerfielcPs for so in of the up the by The and 165 by a architect. "Westglow" its 32-volt light but no of electricity. to and the heat,166 These for the 167 to in of fires. The was in 1917 by and J. Lee for a of $20,00d168 The was a as a On the was a The and his u i /• 1 . r • i /• i i i f i T\ • f« 1 1 to in of the for the family, but "Westglow" a Estate,170 of the was as Rock Show.171 at "Westglow" an and the Village. On the day of the of and in Louisville, in her of the day one of "Some for JVew K»rJc on a of course. No one tea at left the so he our very at us and to the in triumph with a she with a flourish to all of the Nobody accepted"172 "Westglow" under construction to in the 1923 for New York a Rock, a by to see us. Wfe tea Daddy we to in. her long, which During the at the of his to to the in the built The ladies" "there a In an of the in in as and of in the of 174 galleries. "Westglow" was a of the and was a of and cuttings.175 his is the area out for to a He a the of his in of his In the of his "When the out on a cloth. They off the and a and it May."176 In 1924, Mr. for the to the In the of "paintin* Blue."173 a at of its the to as with a French, — was it was his he was so �his in 1932, at the age of 73, The a to the a he the for a as his two Elliott which he recovered.177 He and was at St. Mary's of the Hills.179 by his Gwendolyn. Anna her at his in in is Fayetteville.180 Gwendolyn, the of the children, on 22, 1904. She School in York City in Virginia, her on which, the her her and to the to a in her but she to her to for her her her an life in York and In she her by the New York to by Elliott Daingerfield poses with a group of admiring students. to for the to The Rock,' by of and for the Gwen, as she was to her of all was a vivid, These her humor, to her in in Her in Rock. Every she her Marjorie, a big on the of "Westglow" which was to by a of friends" was she a and at Jay was an "indomitable, for her nerve, 182 humor" She was as an and and as a of the Ouija Board!183 at in York City, the of and the of Art.184 She at University, the of American the of Art, and was for two of the of Sculpture at College.185 She the for her the for "Appassionate," a in An up the idea for this one in New York City, she was by a for was by the It to the the and sins since Jezebel."187 to pay this if she sit as a The and was The was in the Gallery in 1934 and was at the very first Art which was at the in 1935, The art was the of "several the in Rock."188 In 1952, and cast the of Sir the top of the Sir Cup. A of this was by to II Her to the United In for the gift, a �AND / Page 65 The of the annually. The is in at the North Carolina of History.189 In 1954, the to an for the Girl of America. The she was a to her, the girl As of the "girls" (as by did to in art. Art on the of Patronesses.191 The Art was in 1950, "to as a point for the in the to the of the to for as The first of the in and both 192 girls. as for of the to its The in at the time.193 was Art of the of of of W. C of a late for of her was Forsyth.194 and in Charlotte.195 was a to a Ovens, which in In 1939, was a of in the States.196 One of her a Child "The in the of St. of the Church in a gift to the community.197 her was a of the the Pen and and the Art Club.198 She also Fun of Sculpture. In this she an by the / a Marjorie Daingerfield and had one her TAe was in the /ta/ge of North Carolina, a I a for a a very dim wew of my He see 'no to me no way/ / had the two of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Cannon of Concord, full and life size, and I was with a are you to get to York?' 'Well, Hank,' I Til to Charlotte and get two h fifty and a it and it in my car!' He was very the and I did the a with so it like an out of it, he That to get in no car* Hit'll five I big to carry four on the Call in the 'So the and on the juice in all Finally, two car out the my into the it was �let tlie gas run all f me and Ladyf I I 'Well,' I 7 is — it the else in M C. / set sail down the trie / at a to get the Ae was so one to go a-sdckinf my is you got in your Is it a of it in that before, but burning!'199 Of course, / couldn't see out 1117 TAere / in tne car. Finally, he up to that just my but you it, yesf just it H« H. Cone was the of in 185? to Cone in The patriarch, Herman, was a to at the age of 17, finally in to a dry In 1871 Moses1 his to he a his for the it the It was on of the young first the of he to live. in the south, the in the With initiative, his the of in the It was a far cry as "drummers " the on for dish had an to sell The as Cone Mills, a direct by-product of work. Cone a of 36 when he to buy of Rock. to the of the he as a he to a he to an of his one be a of The 3,516 the Cone by his a of 35 the of the was a period, 18934899.200 in Rock Township, the lop Rich 500 of rolling Throughout the rhododendron mountain the the of nearby Mountain. The the Joseph C. Norwood in by the B. Clarke The was as and of to the These included the William A. the B, hands.201 It was in 1899 the a very In the the Cones construction of on this Oxen to 20 the at Lenoir, on the to with the project.202 The Victorian, 20 four floors. A Tiffany the Manor a to the of the Southern at the turn-of-the-century. H. The the �GREAT ESTATES AND PROMINENT PEOPLE/Page 67 to on the and with the Gifford Pinchot, Governor of Three of Whitetail to the Estate.203 Consistent with of on the as as cows. As a matter-of-fact, the so could be This led to the of the "Grade A" in 204 County. The Cone a in the of the Community. The 30 This, to the of 1900, 15-20% of Flat Top Manor Rock Township by the That portion of the which the the orchards. This a by Cone to an for to this on The of 300 locations. Sawmill Orchard, the just of the the of the of the was In a by the Country Club, was By far the was the China (so it was "on the of the world"), just of 221 its the Parkway. All told, an 10,000 on the of twenty At of operation, at for the to the on the While the are no a in the of County.205 Cone a of at Flat Top Manor, the of the Navy Wilson, the of North Carolina, the of the Also, the no of own, the and the ice was a Cone at the age of 51 on 8, 1908. After her Cone the of the to it in a her For 39 Mrs. Cone as a widow-in-mourning, in 1947 at the age of 89.206 Cone A rather of the his other the in 1911, to the of Mrs. Cone the Cone By an on May 30, 1911, Cone, of H. Cone, 3,516 as the H. Cone to the H. Cone in North . Under the of the she was to the for her use as as she at her the of the place.207 As the was to the in with the of the trust. Any conditions would a of the to the of H. Cone. It was further the H. Cone Park was to be as a for the To this, the be $10,000 for on the the of Mrs. Cone in 1947, it not be in the �Page 68 / Chapter III I ^m^'t^,, ^^r*. -^*f * ' •«--*E=«ir .%. --"-f-j%~^' w^t. - .• . _ ' A segment of t/ie beautiful carriage trails on the of the to a It was a be a on The $10,000 would to expenses.208 In to itself of the to the of the 1911 the a the North Carolina Court by which the Rock to be to the of to a of the The the H. Cone as a the of the of May 30, 1911. This on 21, 1949. On 21, 1949, John A. Wrug, of the the the 21st day 209 1949, the H. Cone to the United of America. Julian Price Park. The in to not only the 4,200 of just Rock, but the for whom the is the who a to the people of Rock. as the of Jefferson Life Company, but this was only one of his All Julian Price as a builder, a in the of the South. Price was Richmond, Virginia, on November 25, 1867. He was one of six children, the son of Joseph J. and Hill Price,210 Growing up on a the young to 211 in work. as a Julian was idle. As a he had for he was of Jefferson he by his policy to hire he to be "lazy" In his "A lazy A crook, now, has He and you can get the best of him and get out of him. you can a a is a worker. But a lazy man,^every day you him, you're your away"212 as a and for as a for Tobacco Company, Price an for the Life He 213 of $250 $1,000 to in this company. The for was and he had convincing of its It long, however, he was to and in 1907 he was and manager.214 In 1912, the Life Company, Security Life Annuity of Greensboro, and to one Standard.215 Julian of this new and in 1914 Vice-President. Two he was a held 28, when he and Chairman Board.216 his �AND / Page 69 to As he by twenty-fold.217 In 1930, Jefferson of the Pilot Company.218 was one of his After WWI, he a in the and in 1930 the of the and the Daily A/ews. He was of the Atlantic in 1930 in his death.219 Julian Price an say is to Rock,220 the he saw this of and he a it by the and of Mountains, he a for a which to the the the a with a 300-acre a a hotel221 In 1935, he 1,600 of Manufacturing, a which at one a in Rock. Times not for and Price was to be to sell, he no in the land.222 the River, just the the has an The Fork River, which is now Price Park, is for a of the was to a a of by this river which his It is he 18104817.223 Aldrich (18214905). Ash Pen Knob, at is just one of the Aldrich his and the company's ••*. "i Julian Price The was 299 on the of by the bear.224 Price one is in awe of the of It's to it has not this way. The was for its by the William S. Whiting, the 19124930.225 Whiting to the the was timber, chestnut, hemlock. In the of the late a who a of the the tall was "Beat you It was the of in Carolina. I think Whiting cut thirty feet There six feet We out saw one cut on Fork. We it was a feet to the first limb"226 When Julian Price the it was by the as "unimproved timberland "22? There was virtually of the left. Today, the is to to Julian Price and his the one day to Leroy Wood was an who of the Price He his two of their and Dale, the "Sims Place" (18714951) was a He in his a to his He try the out, it to his He said it was "so he go through hell a-poppin1 and a-crackin?1 Creek, in Price colorful mountaineer.228 At one on the the "white-face" and burley Five of with Julian Price to in the �Page 70 / Chapter III said by to the to Price as a for the the to and Service. try of that of the the a at on the still the on Shulls Mill crops.229 His was 230 in fine cattle" the was the red the and which as a 231 rangers. to one day to his for it was truly "the of his eye"232 He plans to a but his was He his did build a in the of but are not to The still on the corner of and 233 Street. the his hat or Price was in the Village.234 It a to his two to for the and to at His "my the view the of the was in the Not (where the could it"235 As in the rest of the of by the of Julian Price's untimely On his to with two and his he was to the on the of his 300-acre His car to a curve just North Wilkesboro. A was the for the of the Price was instantly. No one else in the car was injured.236 to the of the to it To Ralph Price the to for a It was to the in 1952 to be as a area for all to enjoy.237 It is at the Cone in the the Cone it was Cone, Sr., who Price to Weems, to the the land. construction of the was Price's on the the it in of their of Laurel he to the and he did. he Julian Price a contribution to posterity he vast Anyone has the the Fork Trail, or just driven the Parkway silently Julian Price his for this gift of nature. The Julian Price Park, in the of 1960, as a tribute to this citizen.238 Beautiful Price Lake on the Blue Ridge Parkway J. W. Cannon founded not only Cannon Mills, but the town of Kannapolis, He laid out the built the mill, with 1,200 for his 239 employees. He to Rock in the 1900s built a home on Pinnacle Drive the Green Hotel. This two-story structure, its front view of the Green Park Hotel its view overlooking Grandfather Mountain, Mount Mitchell, Table Rock, Clingman's Dome, Flat Top the Great Smokies, has in the family since.240 Charles Cannon, born in 1892, was the child of J.W. Cannon. He Fishburne Military in �AND Virginia, of 29, he by the Carolina he the in but left to of Cannon "He a up to Chairman in 1962, he 241 20,000 workers...." he was a boy, Cannon his the 1916 His to sell the / Page 71 for his four it 12 in In 1921, at the age 6,700 in North South He the to he "would be again." But the did not Charles Cannon. He his a of his wife, the Ruth Coltrane, William Coltrane, Charles A. Jr., Winslow, Mary Ruth, to only World War II. Charles was not the only child of J.W. Cannon to in The Cannon, with Rock. At one all of J.W/s in Rock, Half, Mr. Mrs. Cannon, in Mayview; the rest built in the This a bit of friendly rivalry, for he in the of town.242 Cannon as a and As TTie "He was in as 'peppery* in action. When he to end a was no his but he be in no doubt his acumen"243 He was as a still living in the 19th Century, 19th Century possible.244 Charlotte Golden, in his l&uVe of Cannon, "He is the last of the of the 20th century. of his in the Cannon Mills, he the of in the William the of Jefferson Yoknopatawpha"245 Although in the 1960s 20,000 in the Cannon Mills, Mr. Charlie, (a to by all of as to Golden: "He who has in the who has has just of at the There is no of Mr. Cannon's with his but the on a tightly of which into the political, religious, 246 life of the community." A. Cannon In the of his (Mrs. "You he it if he was to up the summer!" The to was less the J.W. the trip by On the of the trip, they out of early, the car, the day?s journey. Around noon they the for a picnic lunch. in the the Green Park Hotel, the very at the top of the mountain, they they at the trip was it had in it was not without its trials. Mrs. in not as to the trip up the Lenoir Mountain. her Uncle car would The Cannon would the car and to it try.247 Like all the Cannons took of the air beautiful Mr. Cannon's was He to on the old country which to which in his live TTie home of/.W. Cannon (left) on Pinnacle Drive in the early Was the old Globe �Page 72 III The Cannon of the air of the the for of the Day for the the the but to to A she Rock, They on the by the of the the of the The and or to the a for the Park, just to see all only It was a on of the to up to. Hill, it a "great outing." The on Every Friday, the children Annie to the of Mr. was Concord for the When saw his car the a up the mountain,248 Ruth," as she was by the community, her in for the but it was to in Mr. Cannon to on the so he the which the top of the He to his not to a fire on he to off! Mr. Mrs. Cannon in the the for "Miss Ruth" was a of the Club a in the library. she her on the at the was a few it has now.249 in in for the 250 ribbon. In to the old Charles at the Country Club, he his Mr. Cannorfs charity the Tufts Association, he on the of At the the College, for Children, the in The A. Cannon, Jr. is for his son was in 251 War II. Mrs. a of the Dorothy "during Cannon a at the Mrs. Charles tea a far of honor. One Wilson!*252 it Mrs* in the Cannon Clyde In of and was on the of the Tryon in New of the the at her home.253 For the the was the of the is can still men of the at Mrs. Charles Cannon (left) with Governor Hoey and Ashland Cannon not only in the big Mayview in the other. Although the her to but to "court" with all the_ in one was one of the to go for a says she and all the they �AND to the Mrs. in the to the has the so in for Children. for the it was at to is the in to the for a Mayview Manor.254 she was up, the boy the in of the the Cannon her the call has / Page 73 Craig's This is a a this the in the for the she her got to "It was a but a also to the a full all the trimmings.255 of to A in the began the in 1957* The of was by Elk, On the the One of the $250,000, charm" in is "Greystone Towers" in 1922 for a of 256 was the of Mebane. The "money, in the Village the f20s 30s,257 was a of of the Cotton at Carolina,258 At the in 1934, he was of Commerce,259 was his had a a has it the was to The his to his The was and was in he her to They had one a "Randy."260 Jr. fell in and was a of Rock.261 was a was as a by the at the Gun Club. was of the to big in Alaska.262 Mr. in 1934, she as an the to the for the William the Whitneys, the of the 263 DuPont But was her at "Greystone." to Dorothy the in Rock, "The of the a of as as the in the Myraf264 In 1920, the 42 of on the in as "Pinnacle Crest" Alexander.265 a an who to her a "German-gothic bathrooms "266 The for A a of led to the Its off the the to one "Nough to ole' it?" in the was she was not piece of was in place.267 Once the was the parties.268 in There to be to to to and to On the day the to the of the living to for dancing.269 On the of a by and led a hall �Page 74 / Chapter III 16th Century antiques.270 To the of the hall was a Mrs. entertained drop-in guests. Filled with magnificent, plants, the of the in the It a view of the mountains.271 ceiling, the French "Oreystone" on the walls.274 The and of entertainment.272 a held, and tall inside. Amidst invited the mountain the animal Myra's victims.273 Three the of which of not only for formal dinners, but for family as well The for Sir Kent in England. Myra Mebane often told the twelve-foot a of wood from every country in the world. Italian chairs of the period, of a the banquet an "elaborate, wrought-iron chandelier" A of at of the room. Next to the dining room a butlers the which a big range.275 The on the floor, by a stairway. A balcony overlooking the ballroom the two on the floor. The wing, the contained two Another bedroom, with a view of the courtyard and located the two the The left the bath, Mrs. Mebane's room, which a Randy^s bath, which the bedroom of her French Only the of pure silk were in the bedrooms.276 All of the bathrooms in tile all lavatories.277 The turret, on the third floor, as the poker room. Only men allowed. Robert at very well-known of the era, including J. P. Duke Governor Cameron Morrison. According to Dorothy Summerville, "In money plentiful for a Pe°ple who felt it to be wished " the were so high, a bank vault on the floor beneath the turret. The and also The had a and picture windows 278 which a 360 view of Grandfather and the surrounding mountains. was a coal-fired burner. Electricity the May view plant. The cooks, two housekeepers, two butlers, a chauffeur, quarters the for employees.279 the glamorous, extravagant, alluring, fascinating. Theirs certainly an epicurean to one "they it up lived it up well as as the money out."280 They in of the in Blowing Rock. Myra was not an but she in the horse show on Green Hill. According to Dorothy Summerville, "she had a 'sorrel, of sophisticated, show-horse quality. Her participation to any the show"281 on the course at Green Park. At a time when 50 to 75 cents, he the young $1.00 to $2.00 a round and often a $5 tip!282 �AND / Page 75 The the a of how the of the Rock. He eventually the car to to get It out of his The one of the electric, pianos.283 The old that "he who has but penny has no for a purse" to the Their its toll An in the in 1928 Mr. was in to the Hunter of Suit was Mr, to the He "Greystone*' as one in the to his children.284 to Mrs. "the was a was Myra no a was of her collection."285 Precisely how the was lost is unknown. it was the 286 in 1934, all of Myra's was by piece. She did she to on to an in out her to say this is 287 Julian Price on his first visit to the area. Around 1937, Myra at Greystone. The of allowed limited An in the The this "Let at do your worrying! LuncheonsTeas-Dinners,"288 In 1938, Greystone to the for the given at an of 50 per person.289 In she the of the Blowing Rock Country Club when it in 1941. Mrs, to on to her 1948, it was by a known as The American Corporation.290 The Corporation of Mr. Thomas Shelton, a as The $150,000 on the The coal-fired burner with an the In an to the interior, in green.291 To the folks, Shelton was an He to to in the ice. to his son, he "displayed of the can in a man"292 did not When the he his own life on the of Greystone.293 to The Broyhill the "gateway" to and is as familiar to the of as is Lenoir, Rock, as the city from the a and this philanthropic continuously the Broyhill born on June 1, 1850, at in Wilkes County. In 1876, he a young his junior, Parsons, a of Wilkes County. A she to child, Thomas Hamilton Broyhill, born April 2, 1877. After his birth, and the Knob of Wilkes County to a at the of the Lenoir Wilkesboro. Although children not. Thomas by in 1879, John in 1881, in 1885, in 1886, Isaac in 1889, in 1894, and in During the late 1800s and early 1900s, so was not a but an children to in the or in the of the of work. While their in the mill for the the at on the farm. The contributed to the by the in and All school in a one-room, one-teacher schoolhouse, only a The only s r n the winter months. It in the spring so the P i g planting, for a month or in or again in the season.296 Thomas, as the was the to He was a for In the 1890s, he �Page 3^1"; ~™ " ^' ' ,\ "l If ^"' : ^"^" , L . .' '...--,." . • for the by to the to be up to the market.297 In 1900, he his sawmill, the to all of the United where it to build furniture As for cutting the :.-:;.: .-::: ;j Coffin Company him four : ~ V-ll interest in company.298 This was just : r, " ~~= : to his for the industry. He eventually his own in of the county. When he he and a "\ and 120 of in the Furniture Coffin roy i Company,299 With he the in the company the to the Lenoir Furniture Company. • Mr. T. H, Broyhill, as he was by his the it on the to He out of his the primary of the Tom's in the Broyhill of today.300 For 50 Thomas was a much in Lenoir. He to his the a fortune.301 He his wife, the Powell, children—Otis, Lillie, Ted, and Ethel The as happy, humorous.302 In to the industry, Tom BroyhilPs other was real According to who he to buy, but he didrft like to sell. This reluctance, did not for civic community projects. Broyhill Park, in Lenoir, is of his benevolence.303 it was Tom the family to the furniture industry, it was his brother, Ed, who one of the in North Carolina as well as in the States.304 When Tom stock in the Kent Factory in 1912, he convinced Ed that "a man could reach out from the hill country of Wilkes County find for himself" To his brother, "Tom Broyhill a a of whom respected "305 Ed he too to the in of other opportunities, but first he an education. In 1913, at the age of 21, he left his to the Appalachian Training School in (now University).306 At this the School was a state-run school, a school for Tuition at the was by the of North Carolina, but the to 307 pay a board. The young thirty-five to the school, on with the of five in his pocket.308 He was no his so, in to pay for the tuition, he his own in for a haircut ten for a His as a barber only a few months, but would him. He set up on the lower floor of his dormitory for 309 faculty. This not at he to borrow his Tom, Ed the at jobs, so he to in the fall.310 While as a Ed met a Hartley Hunt. Mr. Hunt he a was of her to Appalachian. Ed he could not go wrong his to such a In the fall of 1914, Hunt at the Training School. Shortly she Ed Broyhill whom, enough, she would eventually marry.311 When she at the Training School, she only 15 old. Her well-rounded included Latin the �AND / Page 77 pi^nOf and voice. to to she in area.312 In 1918, she left to the North Carolina 313 College for Women, the University of North at Greensboro. Ed his In 1917, his and at the he was drafted.314 a at Camp in South for he was to the 20th in D. C. He was he was as While he was at Walter he a which he would say him the — he to type.315 In 1918, Ed the going home, he a in Greensboro, at the North Carolina for Women, to to him.316 In 1919, Ed to for his brother, at the Lenoir Furniture Company. Ed the a paycheck. At the of the Tom a $1,800 for his With he one in his company.317 In 1921, Ed They Allene, and all the and and the community.318 They up in the "typical the tree playing cowboys"319 Ed role in the was of but to author of Ed Broyhilf s biography, Anvil of Adversity ^ "his far the of to the or the filet. It to a in which him can and spiritually."320 J.E. "God us on an Anvil of Adversity for a only to Him. That is the way He us for life."321 By 1923, Ed in of for the all for $150 a month. On the he in to to buy his own company.322 In 1926, he the to go for with Tom, Ed his for $5,000 the Lenoir Chair Company.323 to "in months the Broyhill office, which is with devices, but the ran an of fuss red It a for a a a a an machine"324 the to the the continued to When the to for with scrip, "a for in the of a to pay later" During the 30s, Tom Ed which of the In 1937, Tom to giving the of the to his Ed. His in can be to the of his According to "No Ed BroyhilFs employ did for it. He a for a for his Ed Broyhill as "Thousands of books on to but is as as the Bible."325 Not only did the a role in the of the in North Carolina, a in the of Rock. As as 1928, Tom Broyhill of the Mayview Mr. Broyhill his friend, Mr. Charles Hayworth, to a on the of Park. When Hayworth a bid on the property, Tom Broyhill felt his was in his and "111 In 1930, the to Mr. M. of Volusia County, Florida, as of of the in the was Mr. at the the in 1966. It is to in 1929, the of Mr. Hayworth, a to Grover "that he Mrs. of Point on the (Mayview) if the the it a park" A by Mayor to on for out the but for the was developed.326 Tom on 19, 1955. He had the sole in 1935 and his will English, �Page 78/Chapter III the his death. According to Chuck Ketchie, who conducted an of the "Mrs* R Broyhill the the in her last will—she only that portion which included her as this she to her charity" The of the to University, to her portion.327 In 1952, Ed, in his the Green Hotel According to "his by the in at the Southern Furniture Market the of for buyers " Under Ed*s ownership, the Green Park Hotel completely and its Ed of the at "summer" on Wonderland Trail in Rock, The the which the Linville was to the on top of the world"328 with the 30-minute 329 to Ed at by 8:30 a.m. the week, His two gin to Ed in the of several 330 the one at Rock. As of the Party, Ed Broyhill with in the country. His in his in the future of the nation. He as Wherry, Taft, Carroll Dwight Eisenhower, Richard Nixon, On the Broyhills at in 331 Rock. Carolina, Ed to churches, hospitals, universities, and community At University two buildings are in honor of him his wife, on the ASU of Trustees 1957 to 1965.332 to "most — she is giving of — she to tire; — she is in — she is doing something for someone" Satie loved Rock the perfect for her to pursue interests. According to her Allene, "If was at the Green Hotel who had not Blowing Rock, Mother up the tour."333 — was to be 10 �GREAT ESTATES AND PROMINENT PEOPLE/Page 79 NOTES 1. Chetola Travel Brochure, Compiled and printed by Queen City Printing Company, Charlotte (located at The Blowing Rocket Office). 2. Interviews with George Snyder, eldest son of James Luther Snyder on September 11, Sept. 16 and Oct. 15, 1987. 3. Interview with George Snyder and The Blowing Rocket, June 29, 1984, p.9. 4. Interview with George Snyder, 5. "Chetola — A Haven of Peace Reborn for Many" — an article found in the Appalachian Collection, Appalachian unknown. University, author 6. Arthur, John Preston. History of Watauga County, North Carolina. Richmond: Everett Waddey Co., 1915. 7. Interview with George Snyder. 8. Chalmers Gascon Davidson, "Old Blowing Rock As Our Family Knew It." TTie Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p.70. 9. Interview with Luther Church his Mother, Neola on Sept. 14, 1987, 10. Interview with Fred Mays on August 12, 1987. 11. Interview with George Snyder. 12. Interview with Mrs. Sanford 0ean) Lee on Sept. 10, 1987.(Mrs. Lee is compiling a parish history for St. Mary's of the Hills Episcopal Church.) 13. Ibid. 14. Davidson, op. cit. 15. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 16. Ibid. 17. Gate, Grace, The Model City of The New South: Anniston, Alabama 1872-1900. Huntsville, Alabama: The Strode Publishers, Inc. 18. Davidson, op. cit. 19. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 20. Interview with Mrs. Lee; Arthur, op. cit., 21. Interview with George Snyder Interview with George Snyder. The Blowing Rocket, June 29,1984. 22. Interview with George Snyder and Lee Garrison (Luther Snyder's Grandson) on Sept. 23, 1987. 23. Ibid. 24. The Blowing Rocket, June 29, 1984 and an interview with Luther and Neola Church. 25. Interview with George Snyder. 26. Ibid. 27. Ibid. 28. Interview with George Snyder and Watauga Democrat, April 15, 1915. 29. Interview with George Snyder 30. Ibid. 31. Interview with Fred Mays and by Ruth Vardell and Gaston Gage, "Blowing Rock Memories" 1975. 32. Interview with George Snyder and Lee Garrison. 33. Dorothy Henkel Summerville, "Things I Remember About Blowing Rock" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p. 69. 34. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 35. Unpublished memoirs of Marjorie Daingerfield (located in the Blowing Rocket Office). 36. Davidson, op. cit. 37. Interview with Mrs. Lee and Summerville, op. cit. �Page 80 / Chapter III 38. Interview with Mrs, Lee. 39. Ibid. 40. Democrat, Feb. 12, 41. Dec. 20, 1917 and Jan 3, 1918, 42. Nov. 2, 1914, Oct. 14, 1915, and July 1, 1915. 43. Town," The 44. Democrat, April 13, 1916. 45. Democrat, May 28, 1918. 46. Democrat, April 13, 1916. 47. Democrat, 48. Democrat, Nov. 21, 1918 49. Interview Story, 1983, p. 17, 1, 1917. Lee. 12, 1920 50. 51. Ruth Vardell 52. Mrs. Gaston Gage"Blowing Memories" 1975. op. dt, 53. 11, Lee. 54. 55. of Rock*1 (There is a 56. Annie Smith, "Inspirations 57. Interview with of Snyder. 58. JWd 59. TTie 21, 1953 60. TTie 21, 61. "Luther Snyder Prominent Citizen,**The 62. IBM 63. IMi 6f Ibid 21, 1953. 65. The 66. Aug. 21, 1953. 67. TAe 68. Interview Snyder. 69. "Luther 70. Citizen" op. dt,, 1983. p. 18. with Snyder. 71. Ibid. 72. Ibid. 73. Ibid. 74. 75. "Luther Garrison Citizen", op, dt. 1953, pJ5. at Tfie �AND 76. The / Page 81 June 29, 77. 15, 1935 78. The 79. Church. 80. "Luther Citizen", op, cif. 81. Garrison, 82. with 83. with Luther Church. Garrison Snydet and 84. TTie July 18, 1947. 85. The 19, 86. TTie July 27, 1935 87. Church, 88. Neola 89. Luther Church, with Luther Church 90. Garrison. "Chetola the -A of op. eft. for and Lee 91. Church, 92. "Luther Citizen" op. dr, 93. IBM 94. The July 12, 1940. 95. 96. Ifeid 97, Interview with Lee Garrison 98, Interviews with Neola and Luther Church, Garrison, 99. Ibid 100. TTie 101. The 24, 1935 and July 18, 1936. July 31, 1969. 102. TTie Aug. 2, 103. TTie July 31, 1969. 104. TTie July 4, 1941 and Aug. 23, 1940. 105. TTie 106. Aug. 21, 1953 Ibid 107. AM 108. AM 109. Ibid 110. "A 111. 112. Ibid 113. IBM. of p. 1. (This is Exhibition. Charlotte: at TTie of Art, 1971, p. 10. (This office.) be in the �Page 82 / Chapter III 114. 115. John, Roaming the Mountains with John Parris. Raleigh, North op. dr., p. 12. 116. 117. 1955, p, 61. July 29, 1978. op. dr., p. 12. 118. Ibid 119. Ibid. 120. JbM. 121. Jbief. 122. Ibid. 123. Aid 124. on 125. 10, 1987 op.dt., p, 14; p, 14. E,, TJhe N.C., 1948. of Grandfather Mountain» 126. Hobbs, op. dr. 127. with Mrs. op. c/t., p. 10. 128. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 129. Ibid. 130. Elliott Daingerfield, at the UNC Library. 131. to L. Thornton at UNC 6, 1929. the op. cit.j p. 14. 132. Ibid 133. JJbM interview with Mrs. Lee. 134. with Mrs. 135. op. dr., p. 10. 136. Mrs. Hobbs, op. dr., p. 24. 137. Ibid. 138. IBM 139. Ibid. 140. 141. Mrs. op. dr., p, 26 and The Blowing 142. June 28, 1940. Mrs. 143. IBM 144. with Mr, on Oct. 16, 1987. (Wood once by Ruth Vardell and Gaston Gage, 145. He as a for the and 29, 146. 147. p. 50. 148. Interview with Mrs, Lee. 149. 150. Still Mrs. Many" The Story, p, 42. Church Activities 1951.) of Rock" �GREAT ESTATES AND PROMINENT PEOPLE / Page 83 151. op, dr., p. 61. 152. The Still 1983, p. 42. 153. Ibid 154. Interview with Mrs. Lee, 155. Ibid 156. "Famous Many" op, dr. Still 157. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 158. The July 14, 1939, I 159. 160. TAe The Feb. 1, 161. Interview Mr. Wood. 162. Ibid 163. Mrs. 1, 1980. The 164. Mrs. Lee and the July 29, 165. Mrs. Lee and 77ie Feb. 1, 166. with Mr. Wood. 168. Mrs. Lee. Town," The p. 15 and Mr. 169. 8, 1987. on 170. Interview with Mr. Wood. 171. Are 172. The Stoiy, p.15 and Mr. of 173. Ibid 174. Mr. sketch. 175. IMf. 176. 177. 178. of op. dt», p. 50. Oct. 27, 1932. 179. The June 24, 1933. 180. The June 28, 181. Biographical material obtained from Mr. Joseph Dulaney. 182. The 183. The 184. The Rocket^ March 27, 1977. (Reprinted from The Charlotte Observer.) 25, 25, 1977. 185. Ibid 186. The July 14, 1939 and 25, 1977. 187. The July 14, 188. The July 14, 1939 and July 20, Stozy, 1983, p. 69 and Hie July 29,1978. �Page 84 / Chapter III 189. Robin R. Salmon, "Marjorie Daingerfield". This biographical was written to be Gardens. It was provided to the author by Marjorie's nephew, Joseph Dulaney, in a supplement to a sculpture by 190. Ibid 191. The 192. July 20, 1935. The Blowing Rocket, Aug. 18, 1950. 193. The Blowing Rocket, Aug. 8, 1958. 194. The Blowing 195. The Rocket, 196. The Rocket, March 25, 1977 197. Interview with Mrs. Lee. 198. The July 14, 1939 and Mr, Rocket, 25, 1977, 25, 1977. 199. Daingerfield, Marjorie. The Fun and Fundamentals of Sculpture, New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1963, pp. 81-83. 200. Buxton, Barry and Deborah. The Denim King: Moses H. Cone's Family, Textile Empire and Mountain Boone: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1989. 201. Buxton, Barry. Historic Resource Study of the Moses H. Cone Estate, Asheville, N.C., National Park Service, 1987. 202. Ibid. 203. Ibid. 204. Ibid. 205. Ibid. 206. Ibid. 207. Ibid. 208. Ibid. 209. Ibid. 210. Greensboro Daily News, October 26, 1946 and "Julian Price: From Railroad Telegrapher to Life Insurance Company Presidency", pp. 4547 of The Jeffersonian^ November 1946. 211. Mary Taylor, "A President is Born" in The Jeffersonian, November, 1946, p. 89. 212. Lou Rogers, pp. 45-47 of The Jeffersonian, Nov. 1946. 213. Author Unknown. "Julian Price - Dynamo 75th Birthday Climax of Productive Life" pp. 90-94 of The Jeffersonian. 214. Greensboro Daily News, October 26, 1946. 215. Ibid. 216. Ibid. 217. Asheville-Citizen Times, October, 27, 1946, pp. 30-31 of The Jeffersonian. 218. Greensboro Daily News, Oct. 26, 1946, pp. 4-6 of The Jeffersonian, 219. Greensboro Daily News, Oct. 26, 1946, pp. 4-6 of The Jeffersonian, 220. "Greensboro Names on the Mountains" Greensboro Daily News. Sunday, September 22, 1974. 221. Insurance Index, Nov. 1946, pp. 36-38 of The Jeffersonian. 222. "Greensboro Names on the Mountains," Greensboro Daily News. Sunday, September 22, 1974. 223. Lord, William G. Blue 224. Ibid. 225. Ibid. Parkway Guide, Eastern Acorn Press, 1982. �GREAT 226. Democrat, Jan 19, 228. Lord, William G. A to the Parkway — Dedication '87, Eastern Acorn Press, 1957, p. 15, 229. Interview with Wood Hayden Pitts. Oct. 28, The 231. Interview with 232. / Page 85 Ibid. 227. 230. AND Lou Wood. pp. 45-47 and "75th 233. Interview with Mr. Climax", p. 90 of TJie Jeffersonian. Mrs. Wood. 234. "Julian Price Instantly 235. "Greensboro In N. C. Auto Accident", p. 38 of The Jeffersonian, November, 1946. on the Mountains," The Greensboro Daily News, Sunday, September 22, 1974. 236. The Greensboro Daily Oct. 26, 1946 and The Insurance Index, 1946, p. 36-38 of The Jeffersonian. 237. "Community Club History Is Given" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p. 16, and The Jeffersonian, 238. The Aug., 1960. Aug. 1960. 239. "Charles A, Cannon Dies From Stroke" Democrat, April 8, 1971. 240. with Mrs. 6, 1987. 241. Democrat, 242. Interview with Mrs. 243. "Charles A, Cannon, Textile Owner, Dies in Kannapolis" TTie Charlotte Observer, Saturday, April 3, 1971. 244. Ibid. 8, 1971. 245. New 246. Interview with Mrs. Hayes. 248. Ibid 249. Company, 1962, p. 139-144. Ibid 247. The Ibid 250. "Early Are The 251. Dorothy Henkel Summerville, "Things I 253. Interview with Mrs. 254. Ibid 255. Ibid 256. From a brochure 257. From an p. 66. Interview with Mrs. Hayes. 252. Story, About Old Blowing Rock" in The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p. 69. the 1963 Tour of Homes by St. Mary's of the Hills, (Located at the Blowing Rocket Office). written by Mrs. Dorothy Henkel Summerville in The Blowing Rocket, July 14, 1979. 258. Democrat, 8, 1934. 259. Democrat, 8, 260. Interview with Mrs. 261. Dorothy 262. The 263. The 264. Dorothy Coleman on October 8, 1987, Summerville in The Blowing Rocket, July 14, 1979. July 4, 1939 and 14, 1979. 14, 1979. The Rocket, July 14, 1979. �Page 86 / Chapter III 265. Mr. on October 27, 1987 and The 266. Davies, May Democrat, April 26, 1928. 1953, p. 145. Taw Jameson, 267. Ibid. 268. Interview with Mr. Hayden Pitts. 269. op. dt.» p 270. Interview with Mrs. 271. Interview with Mrs. in The Dorothy July 14, 1979. 272. 273. in The Rocket^ July 14, 1979. 274. Interview with Mrs. Coleman, Mr. 275. The July 14, 1979. Mrs. in The July 14, 1979. in The July 14, 1979. 276. Interview with Mrs. Coleman. 277. Interview with Mr. Pitts. 278. Mrs. 279. Mr. Pitts. 280. Jb/d 281. in The July 14, 1979, 282. with Mr. Pitts. 283. /bid 284. 26, 1928 285. in The Rocket, July 14, 1979. 286. Ibid. 287. The July 7» 1939 288. The August 21, 1937. 289. The June 24 and July 1, 1938. 290. Mr. 291. /bid 292. June 21, 293. Democrat $ 294. Stevens, Williams, Anvil of Adversity: 295. Ibid., p. 7. 296. /bid, p. 13. 297. /bid, p. 11. 298. p. 65. 299. p. 70. 300. /bid, p. 71. 301. p. 65. 302. p. 66. 21, 1979. of a Furniture Pioneer. p. 6-7. �AND 303. p. 71. 304. p. 142. 305. p. 84. 306. / Page 87 p. 17. 307. Ibid., p. 21. 308. "J.E. Life was Story of One From Humble to TJie 309. Stevens, op. dr., p. 24 310. p. 311. p. 33. 312. p. 313. Ibid.t p. 37. 314. Ibid,, p. 26. 315. p. 316. p. 29. 317. IBM., p. 318. p. 77. 319. p. 135. 320. p. 133. 321. The 322. op. dr., p. 82. 323. Ibid., p. 84. 324. p. 88. Topic, "J. E. Democrat, 325. 326. A 1, 1968. the 28, 1970 11, 1929 PaPer on 327. Chuck 328. op. dr., p. 180. 329. p. 191, 330. p. 174. 331. p. 332. 333. "Broyhills 1, 17, 1973. "Horatio Career of Ed Broyhill" �Page 88 / Chapter IV �HOTELS, INNS AND BOARDING HOUSES/Page 89 CHAPTER IV Hotels, Inns and Boarding Houses Rock's who to as a in 1889, the the the Civil War so in the was the the of the the troop But as we know it Colonel H. Gray, with John the in "tourists" on the era in It was a There no and just to on, on the ground,1 Colonel Gray that during the mid-1800s, to the while the be by the local out to the visitors.2 It was a which has one of our to the town its But has constant, the town's as a One of the to a to was the M. the of Amos in 1874 and for in this venture, his His like on They did If Morris* is the of Mr. did he the for the in 1877, at was as "Fairview."4 The Democrat reported on the WW. of a far cry in the of for He was for the legs of was to for growth of the This delightful summer a has in the of its two It has one of the in to in popular favor. The of this the in to any other part of the mountains and every has the has to the of the at Blowing Rock over of any other in the One has the is not on the a as to coin a word, to and up a worn-out as The air is the and in the of any The late Kerr has no of the section has as a health resort, is a in the he and his there. Major H.F. Schenck, of Cleveland, Dr. of lots and will build Hon. Geo. Davis, of Wilmington, his has the cottage lately built by Mr. Morris. Dr. a is an about the place. He a few a spring on the of Mr. L.W. Estes. All of this and boom would but for the of Mr. J.G. and his �the has The which has the a which has This the of a and the in the is in popularity. up a locality. the a in by an in the of the of to a of These the to the 5 of the the of city living. By 1889, the Village of of 200 in the 600 in the There the and as the and Stuarts!6 That the to "We to Hickory, we the for the we a to Lenoir, on a a At Lenoir we took a up the to Rock, to the top in "Mrs. us on our at the us a The was in the of it was so five in the on one of me five in the on the side."7 By 1891, a of the The on 12th "There has a to and this but are like an and for one more." The on to a in the was incorrect. That as "The Conductor a the at so not any not to go or There was a for as 8 is this year!" in April, the "The at is on the is an is it and it will be richly furnished. There will not be a in the South. It will 60 of which will be with an a of There be in every room."9 was to act like a as one can see in this "Our is on her The are for The is putting in etc., will no be as as with the T/ie in 1917 �Col L.S. as the to The of their is the etc. Mr. R.H. Gray is with his Mr. Arthur as clerk, a all "Mr. W.M. Mrs. are to the fare for are are for The 5^ "~~*t by the by H.C. and Mr. Carpenters who built the Green Park Hotel pose proudly with tools of the trade by Mrs. so can see we are to a "The will in a few Our all full are in this summer."10 When it for in the of 1891, the as a of to by the Company, a of Lenoir led by Civil War the was the on the A by in 1892 had this to say the The Green Park Hotel prior to addition of east wing "To the for a the has a hotel on the top of the It has a to the of its and the no to it in all It is by and has hot is with a mountain spring. Every hall is There is a fine Ball Alleys, Gallery and Court. There are in the building"11 was in to its convention, or we say "round-up?" The of the was the of the at the and all and of the and the of the IN, The war had for by the for the grand the North the South, was J.B. Clarke who, with the R.H. Gray, A.W. and G.N. Folks, but the and would be of a busy still of in the �Page 92 / Chapter IV of at the site of the to an 'you would the war was Many of the set up to the two at the Tents by the all the and it the the of war times.1 It is the day of the but conditions much of the during the war. On August 27, the of the the the Hotel to a the community, all to to the event. Once a the to the the Rock Hotel A led the which by of citizens. for the one of the was Capt. J.W. Todd of Jefferson, who in his a fine 'but he a on the in up the During the the the mud, in or in the At was a at the Hotel the sun the the gloom. Other Judge J. Grey of on to cput with all a to the to a to honor during 1 the war. He 'the North got the victory, but the is due the honor! of the The was a a 18,000 was present.12 of As the up the "Turnpike" the in the as of the to The a in 1907, A the the the to the I a or of The in • * " • of butter, did our the to was The She Bill in her the hill us in. the up. to By 1912 the ' • • • • " * "*• * l of Construction by the of her in was in in saw a had casketsf13 and a new Inn was Green Park Hotel and the by Ed of or inn in the lights.14 The "The has in the of the of to the of the The with the are A of for It was the to is �AND the Church has And of of the a in of a on the the the for the 1914 93 the old by a of the of In a by he spoke of the to 15 the canopy," to the G.M. as as In all the in out, has for the your City can on the fee of our fee at the J?ocJr, he has this it is so for us to an /or up the town, at are on the fey the the 'Sun who, to a man, Cod us, it w/ll/M to the of the to to the I the of my journeys 104 of laurelf a soft the Lenoir to Mr, a bridal I me I felt I was has ended.... to fee so the And yet of our fey in a say of the in 1918.1 left me up in his car—the the a I to Green to to a The The of heavenly me as / room. the out the Fine old the to me fee/ at Mr, in and in his of information, Mrs. not yet and with and witty us feel our was not I had for It was the of Mr. and we Mr. and ML Williams. My I 'Dixie/ Mr. Martin's I a// the the shoemakers*..Mr. on the road/ in all the Cone That first Mr, a surrey and the Cone M> in the Wfe on the roclrs, and just climbed a to the top. Young Mr. Grower was of the the West—all to Mrs. was a figure on the a did the looking for the for her patrons. Shopping at Craig's Smith's she for 'Big Harriet' and 'Dove1 'Fanny1 'Cora1 to into the Pe°P/^ came /ar to enjoy.17 in the by the of of for as a and to in the The town's the Charlotte, Rock's in a 1920 of the Charlotte Observer: Thanks to the highways, Tlie Martm House �Page 94 / Chapter IV Rock has brought within of Charlotte of Charlotte run up to the Rock, to Linville and other cooling in the vicinity to whiff the cool off become invigorated with of ozone. Without doubt one of the in the United has for of visitors, its The of the to the Rock has brought it within of the this it is overrun with visitors. One thing which has always in to Rock of the out by Northern has its of Realizing this fact the Blowing Rock Development Company has just at a stockholders* to fifteen thousand dollars or on the out of a course. Additional funds will be upon other attractions, another is on Blowing Rock will be provided with the various sports which to the of other in to its and cooling This it is undoubtedly henceforth the will in popularity. Many Americans of in to the of when in Western Carolina they could rest upon anywhere on the We have hardly our own until just to the of showered upon us, commissioners of the various mountain counties are of thousands of on so the hundreds of of in the mountain territory. The result is a influx of tourists to the Carolina mountains who formerly out the of the other places in other countries. We are to this at Rock. as one no mountain scenery can be found in the world of the A For a home-like 1915.16 This of pace of the flurry was the in the in Place, which enjoy the Rock. On the Turnpike as "Grand View" "Fairview" in was a Its privacy did not the "Grand View" the porch. Also the two was the its 25th in 1912. It was a few as the Wonderland Annie as the hill the was the Mr. his their a which for the 21 food. When EJ. the in 1945, he the to the "Farm House" the the the facilities.22 In "Blowing the of the is by a "Mrs. (of Chetola) the on the to the is When she it, it was not one a It was to sit at the and tea. She said all of her out at the and say "Oh My" She it "Oh My" and it still by By 1954, the a to at the by These an at the and to be by talent,24 the Inn, in the was the in 1870 as a To the of the add one the an of 14 4 no two or the eyes and wit the and She and her and On one the was a "baby party" 6ft. Jim up in his and a a Other the the and the �INNS AND all They art to of by the for the lovely 95 "homes" in had a of Elliot with a The the mill27 of the by site of Chetola) was In the 1880s no in One in or J.G. Finely his in built the Hotel on Main Street, the current is it a two-story with a of on The of the style as which be at the two out a for the of 1888 was $15 a The as the was of its in the of the Village. to a of as the Children in the of on in all to the of a of the the turn-of-the-century the a Mr. his Col LS. saw to the of guests When the was by fire in the 1900s, it on the foundation.30 the Inn, it by Mr. Tom Coffey for by Mrs. Penley.31 The Inn on a of the of a grove of am with A on the the pl^ 32 opportunity for exercise. The Inn, which Rock*s only hotel, by fire in 1926, at a 33 loss of $20,000. It was only a of the loss was by The fire out on the forty the The Democrat on the the the The building burned so rapidly that it only by fast work with the the furnishings the reached them. Heroic on the of in town resulted in all of the with the of in the windows, the first to the fire the of the Blowing Rock School Principal A.E. Mercer the one teacher, and then, with the pupils, boys and he to the fire, and the boys the building and the the and windows, while the girls carried them of the Post workers in every on the did everything to the fire from Happily, no high wind Tom Coffey, The Watauga Hotel Sr. �Page 96 / Chapter IV blowing, In the of the two-inch of an fire no was for extinguishing the fire. All in was and a line was run the fire in of the to the it. These and for a while they Coals, on the of N.C. Greene, town councilman, the roof, but it was quickly did no As the fire just at noon, the was set, and it was to the with the on it. the two of corn done to a turn, still in the of the but did not thereof.34 TJie Hob-Nob Inn Tom Coffey originally he to the Inn, but the property unused until 1939 it was by the for use as a This is one it not for this fire we our in the heart of the In of 1928, the Hob-Nob Tea Room, one of the places, a year-round the of the Inn. at the site of Cicero Miller's it was by Mrs. W.E Penley, was for of the old Inn.35 forty the fire and the Inn the New Inn was by in 1946. It no one by since no in has "Watauga !m For our was with the of the the Park, and the The of was by Colonel H. Grey and John in 1888.37 the Inn, it did not the of its until the late and 1930s.38 to Dr. the Inn the Rock and was the site. "The Inn was a institution, by Mrs. My and Zeb Vance and Gaston Davidson, their honeymoon as of The Inn 1902 or 1903" The was not the of 1930 of the thirty-six 39 was a and hot and water. The and its at the of 321 and Drive. Mr. Gwyn a "it was a the the Valley"40 It was the late that J. the and the As if that not to he was also of the He in to his in the of 1930 and Mrs. and Mrs. and Jr., had a of the H. Cone. the of the 192? he of the two and at a and A field on the near Coffey's Gap was the gala site. It was with over the and �HOTELS, INNS AND BOARDING HOUSES/Page 97 View of Grandfather Mountain and the cottage of David J. Craig from The Blowing Rock Hotel The Inn ate at to a 1?, 1939, the the On on the of in a K. in the the by the The by the is in in 1927. It in the place. It was it of the In As the the distinctions by in on The turn-of-the-century for the some" 44 of the as a and this era a by "If we ran the its was of it the the as of the the was the Green to was the the a late hour,"40 it of a as and the Park, North Carolina. and the use to of the by the his a to the "Like in to all the the the arrived"43 Gwyn, the the size of Will Craig. of supplies," Willie to the bring in of Gilbert, "I got out a £^•5 C. V. Henkel, Jr., Dorothy Henkel, and David Craig in front of the Green Park Hotel buggy �For a by the A in its a was no for The Park, A on the in of the The of QV. in 1915, cut to the for 46 a per cord. By 1913 the Park was "the to in the It as a of the of Cobb, the Raleigh.47 the for the got to It was a Vickie Sylvia, a at the County 1916 to 1934 as "We all of then," Sylvia. "Hadn't a to people much. The all The 77ie Yadkin Spring with the Green Park Hotel In the background the Carolinas^mostly Charlotte. They in the fall They of for They zip up the then, the to by carry the It a up the in days "48 a the to in the Its up the Turnpike "Things It was on of the old It as as you the up the creek." the toll the 1920s, the in the the Rock" the to it as the Rock-Lenoir" "In the get to two (2:00 P.M.) it be the Hotel." a to use the "A was a ten The was free for guests."49 at the a of in The on the Porch w^r^ a spot,50 In the 70s, the of "They 7 A.M. to 10 RM., a They a a a day" the for "See The of �HOTELS, INNS AND BOARDING HOUSES/Page 99 Green Hill Road "The the Green Park as an old in (he 1920s it It the big say the to the the It was a an They It's all the as an old life at the a of said let us mix the in the at the of the as Jr. For it was the it D. The of era in the by its to the and the "The "so and fell day and of a in on the out the its the L In less "Mayview Park" to as the of in 1917 in a he the the of a the the was of be a to the In 1920, and The a by it was by H.W. In in and of the of the it to the In at the and was the rest of the as a in as to the the of its of The of are �Page High of the a the in the John's Gorge are the to the Tryon the of and to the hill The lies on of the Tryon the in is an a the of the The of Bill sharp as the the of the Cove Cliffs, to on a Mayview Rock, in Park, is forty-five sea It is is the City, by of Johnson City is on the Southern is the for the all At City a is to the and a car to Carolina. This of the is the the The trip Shulls to is by the of six the a of North the of on the to At is of the to Hickory, a is to the is the one by this the all the is a fine a of The is the of the and and the of Bill of the are in It is to the trip to in one a half is of of the of the In the the Glen the to of the range of is a On the Mount the sky are in the of the the Johrfs a bed in dot its of in on the floor From Valley View the are No the of the old one of his the sky, as the in the In the this old of the when with or the of age in the is with of and His are in in the at all of the he the The are in June but are all through the of the on The is and is the red for the is a the They to the the for for the of All the to be For the are a soft of red, the red of old and a in the are as for the of the For the one to on are the and of the air will in to the end of Truly it is all so you to the of the Up and the air is line the you go on on At the of its the is its the the of the an for one a to the to the the of the in a of If the day is the will the her the The an �INNS AND The the in the wild sea a sea of mystical in the 101 a When so the are of the the The A is the up to the very top of the clouds for the the the on the with its Another is by the is the to the Rock. There is an to the very of the but to go by the the the of the is by far the of the "Rock" It is every point the like a the gorge under of to by the of the music of hidden forth the of choirs. On the busy murmurings of one all is and in its day and The and only the with the and the hills the in the last ray of the the night. At lies far the clouds in the it all the and like an in a sea. the of to far out a of and the and The to the as the a the line of the of the of the through May view the the dizzy heights through are for trout, in the The the the lover of all may a rich of joys. In the of in the for with its its the of is an place not only for the but for the and the of spring. In the is in a of the sap in the and a of In the autumn the of late the fall the is in royal and the for a the The be in So has its the on on to a so the The of the in and by the of the to return for the in the of the of the mountains.52 the of in the of which Two bivouac Along the of the "Cottages," by for only the in 191? The to the United to do just two of land was six of the He It was to the to be the of the five of the All so as to not be too cut wild for the to in The on the in of Grandfather The They for as as for to the The five to Golf Club on a �Page 102 / Chapter IV Wonderland Trail under construction and after completion in 1919 for its for could be in the and for The was the the of for the to the He the to He in a on a his to the hoped to of the for caring for go on to has the it "Americans Switzerland." He the In 1923, the tea on the for two it for by of his of is very much at Blowing Rock the coming last are two (and - :':; • -r - - '". .. Hidden Waters" cottage in May view Park Ice Skating on May view Lake in 1922 �HOTELS, INNS AND BOARDING HOUSES/Page 103 by Mr. W.L. Alexander, the has will it for its future has for that now world-famous resort. The North Carolina has the invitation of Mr. to hold its at May view Manor, the by the Mayview Construction Company, of which Mr. is The of the to be upon but it is out it will be in June, the real of arrive. This is not a of the town of Blowing Rock, but in the of the he it is will the of the He to at his for four to five hundred wives, daughters, etc. Through the invitation of Mr, the North Carolina Bar will also hold its at "The Manor" in July, which will be an of for town this of the at The Democrat, in behalf of all our its appreciation of what Mr. Alexander has is for our and much county,53 It was in of on 460 who and of land. He 1923, an The to the fee of five ran a the Johns one Gun Club. The Club 100 Club had the of ten Valley and and a TTie grand Mayview Manor Hotel m HI / . Mayview Manor with the new extended care medical facility in the background �Page 104 / IV two a line of five miles.54 to Hamrick, Jr., who in the Annie Oakley the club in the in TAe in 1924 to Gun of 1924* on the the playground in the of North Carolina last W. L of Mayview and the Mayview Manor, the Company, the at the Hotel of the was by Mr. The Mayview of the of 300 the Green Mr. within the will 61? this Mr. 1600 of land 300 The 317 and the The be In a few be In in the on the the he to deal not one of the will be into one of the the to the to the out of for with a to be in and to be Then, a to an was of the "Not a The his in the life on the a They to. in to be of every a the you you can the the of the in the 30s, in the 50s, he was of and old was to the will invitational Western Union will to Charlotte. Such a communication with the with the rest in to Alexander's is to in America. The Green he a will world.55 it to in "Americas at a His By as a at the Charlotte in the fall of 1925 the Company all of of a suit by the creditors.56 of the of was it lovely but they The was we *the thing.* At you All of out of ice, of They built a pool on the of the are now, to up Mayview"57 just the Hotel, the "Greystone" the Joseph Cannon. by Thomas and C.E. It was Milton His was of to Rock. just a it was a of life. It for tea on the ice, and a It was a era in the life of our �HOTELS, INNS AND BOARDING HOUSES/Page 105 �Page 106 / Chapter IV NOTES 1. "Blowing Completed in 1888," The Blowing Rock Story, p. 11. 2. Ibid 3. Ibid. 4. Picture," The 5. "Blowing ?. "Norwell The in 6. "Trip to Story, 1983. p.35. p.ll. Rock" The in 1983. p. 19. The 8. p. 3. 12, 15, 1891. 9. 18, 1891. 10. 11. ParJc, 12. To 1892, Rock," The 13. Story, 1983. p.15. "Things I 14. July 23, 1912 and 15. 1978. p. 1. July 23, 1912. 16. Up," The 17. "Martin Story, of 18. The Story, 1983. p. 53. Story, 1983. p. 36, Story, 20. "Around Town," The 21. "Music p. 17. Days," The Town" The 19. 9, 1912, p. 79. Rock Story, 1983. p. 63, a Attraction Here" The Story, 1983. p. 55. 22. IbM 23. Vardell, and 24. "Music 25. "Martin "Blowing Farm House Popular Attraction Here," The Was of Days," The p. 33, 26. AM 27. in 28. The Lenoir ISfews, The p. 33. 22, 1886. 29. 30. 4» 1926. 31. 11, 1926. 32. The p. 80. 4, 1926. 33. 34. IBM 35. 36. 27, Town," The Story, 1983. p. 61. Story, 1983. p. 55. �AND 37. "Blowing Rock Hotel Completed in The Blowing Rock Story, 1983. p.ll. 38. Chalmers Gaston Davidson, "Old Blowing Rock As Our Family Knew It" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983. p.70. 39. Democrat, July 31, 1930. 40. Presentation by Gwyn Harper at the Blowing Rock Rotary Clubs 25th Anniversary. 41. Watauga Democrat, August 18, 1927. 42. "Blowing Rock Hotel Completed in 1888," The Story, 1983. p. 11. 43. Ruth, Vardell, and Gaston Gage. "Blowing Rock Memories". 44. Watauga Democrat, September 5, 1963. 45. Ibid, 46. 47. Ledger of C.V Henkel for 19064922. Democrat, July 3, 1913. 48. Charlotte Observer, July 28, 1978. 49. Watauga Democrat, September 5, 1963. 50. Greensboro Daily News, May 2, 1976. 51. Charlotte Observer, July 28, 1978. 52. Hutchinson, Crete. In Cloudland: Mayview ParJc, Blowing Rock, North Carolina, Press of Judd and Detweiler, Inc., Washington. 1920. 53. Watauga Democrat, February 1, 1923. 54. Watauga Democrat, August 2, 1923. 55. Charlotte Observer, August 18,1924. 56. Watauga Democrat, December 3, 1925. 57. Dorothy Henkel Summerville, "Things I Remember" 1978. p. 1. 107 �Page 108/Chapter V �"BOOK LEARNING" IN BLOWING ROCK/Page 109 CHAPTER V 'Book Learning" In Blowing Rock he is to see his has a the the 1850s. The to and the of in "the the This for the and this is of the Our in the fact that was not and a has one of had a a of "book learning" to the has in the It was a of In the of "one of the Town the In the 1850s, as North in a log cabin. The the of the Civil War, of the The of pre-Civil in the and They by as the of 1839, of the or $40 per per In 1841, the law was for By 1850 the the war in 1865, few in the the was in it was not the was the and the 1891 or 1892 the of TTie a the He the in the south "2 the this was for its it in the of the is one of The and the little as $1.50 per for for the of The Literary the one-third, a of $60 per to the county to by the 5 was $12 to $15. in The of the 1870s to the at this a 1871.6 was in to way: One day rfie Shull's Mill roadt we a of the by curiosity we The /ost 77ie and rfie TAe was a fair-faced girl, 17 or 18 was her her she College. She to so — and that the of her happily may her and her? on It was to one so and as if the had to the the as her the tfie on old, it was not Her at her life It and be �Page V The to was Mrs. Councill of the of liracy Councill. The in the was in the old Top Church. 7 in the 1870s, this was the Cool School It was not the and County its first in the This was the Top School, the is The and One of the at Flat Top was B. on to in Boone.8 Teachers University.) the County in 1873, are not on the The of the County do that J.W, as in At $17 a and $15. to the and for The was the children." to the poll and The $2 a day for his the of the the by the not in but an a in site of the was Cloud in the The the the a was the This in the as Jr. saw the for out "hillbillies" in They in as "otherness" "our was These the which in the of a of the This in the north, "otherness" saw the the of as to the as Miss Emily Prudden by 11 and need" she was not Institute: Rock, she she in the of the an or TTiere was no in tftis "Yes" "Well, let the with at one To The first hymnbook, to hour,10 She as / of the and as John the of an for in the was one "keenly in her fAe /# say, "X>u four it and I'll do all the rest" So I had fuel — and a I furnished all was all the the At p.m. all be the work went to the school room, and the was fall, all in the to at home?— raking up the the to �111 IN Emily a (who) a to the a in for There she County, North this sort of to a A she left her Carolina, she a the of a for It was in County she the In the of poor, four /ove/7, no schools, no churches, no li/e, one up the would I would pen, and sit in the up the to sit % my As / her it to the church. With for a school Only one had the age her A Christian, she had an the with a On the she to the as far as County to a to "trusting in the in which she the sAut out a// li/e little for and bacon..., the as& L.would thinkJ'They must a school."11 she and to "she in to this who in to school, her for the for the LorcTs work, she Lord Jesus"12 and a its to She also While a school for Camp. The curriculum of the Rs, with a all in the for and as and also of the at Skyland.13 It the of Miss Emily to a to be of its continuance, it to the of others. In 1890, in Rock, Prudden the to the Movement.14 on to in Carolina, at Elk In the last thirty of her life, a of — an her life-long to work. Under the of the Movement, Skyland what Emily Schooling much the the curriculum, by training domestic responsibilities. churches in the north with the American Missionary Movement would collect and to the This clothing, arriving at Skyland, was for at a or given to of Blowing Rock.15 Another the north at Skyland was Ruth Mitchell of Acworth, New of the who at Skyland, Her on December 14, 1896, the community. She was in Mount Cemetery at the age of twenty-six. In 1892, Jackson, at Skyland, a in and the she there. Her the letter newsworthy and it with the of the the Guide. This account of Miss Jackson's struck the fancy of the Guide's he it in its entirety. the follow: �Page 112/Chapter V I you are of the I am in a school No; it is work the so low as the so in public schools, it is his or her to "boss" or the it is to be as free and as we are We are the who do the "fcossin11 the to us for and we are to as by who us, but are "Northerners" or "Yankees" to who do not There is only one Union in the county hef life living, he is so I was a North and Southt but one it out in a The are so The is a and two or a four within miles. This is a a or more in the on account of the cool but in the winter the school is the only live our are the only for We 80 pupils enrolled, about thirty in this an We a but we $200 to us this for the The live on They use but little flour, of corn and salt to the Their $2 per fat and on I I OA, are so get As one girl the "I was a off to to go home" Girls will the but it is to and see in a We it is our living loving them ought Miss D— is doing them a. grand work in to and You the live in at no no all the in one as to This has very the of the The are to to try, but are so "unthoughted" as And of all, no and no be for a (sic). There is for the but for the TAey, or of them, are and It is not for a to or wives. The hoe all do the a the milky etc, and and to a so one can wives. Oh, Mrs M—, we do so much on in young people. It me to of my do, for we are so. I do the am in it, but we to see "reckon^ "tote/1 etc.16 A was in in It was the in Topic, 80 at the in the 1892, at the the for of this hit the 35 of a of in the to she was In a she to the she to to to the the the e to the be was of it to his to the Of the the to the e to P °pl forgive, the in in her in 1910, in 1912, the two on a at the of the 17 was the to the the in of of the to the the or �113 IN a at Skyland18 The of on the the end of an era in of The by at a of it — the of very To her was the Lend-A-Hand Library" and The as an Mrs, was the the On she her She in left her of the not of the on her on in the late in the of for the community*19 in to in for and Dr. for as a the Dr. to the the for the to to In 1905, for the O God, be done!" her The on the a she so this in 1907. in 1908 to on a of "North One of the to was a for It was at was his to Mrs. turned, to see it her, yet she felt the was her her whole life, by not to be any at the turn-of-the-century, off the life, low Pe°ple frO1^ the to the in the is influence."21 in at Top by on to as a to a and in He left in he for the for to the of the the of in she her in her life was "Thy Will, her well, her last in in the of in he of in in was the "Mission of but the to this on the last day of the this to the she her. Tenderly, her feet the Valley of the — did not — she to be left Then, with the which she Vent the of on the it Globe for to in the first an the "Mothers* for in her and It was in for a and the in the As Flat the was in one (18894904) in by the in 1897. The was at Flat.23 in the �Page 114/Chapter V Cool Springs.24 US. 321 and the had a of 1928. Village, Silver was to as the the was was It Cool It was Top site. one of the In the the of the It to it and and as It five and of Spring, just off the to It is in the was a it a and is This was the a no It as a the as the "Old School" 1900 1918.27 It was in 28 Rock. This was it was to a new in 1927, 1913. to on It was a to in of his log the the in 1910, the Hollow School having no Wfe balL.mosdy we was we "follow the fox!' What do, one of us would get up in the the rest of us Now we else.29 Cool Spring School just before consolidation with Blowing Rock Sandy Flat School Blackberry School �"BOOK LEARNING" IN BLOWING ROCK/Page 115 Aho School students in 1913 Brown children up the Middle River in the the is, to Chetola. There they would off and to in the Village,30 In the 1900s, still had to to In bad on horse-back. Since large, or on one 31 would in a or if a big on a sled. Lunch in a big bucket or Usually lunch for in the to of jelly, as well as "fritters" and and in a jar was a 32 luhck was or out to in the crops. If a frost the whole to at to or cut Children, too, helped with with hog killing.33 On had to be and cut. The also to be the This two at In to less and old school had to A and driving the home, as as all the The a far cry what are to penny-pencils, and of the on the The cut the built the Very only of a of Water was in a a and the or All a at the no or cards.35 so dearly, a put on them. Pennycut in the to �Page 116/Chapter V Appalachian Training School cut to the top, a was loss.36 The by the County in Morris1 Histories.37 By 1900, to on the of an In 30 2 by B. B. the County of In 1901 Mr. by the County of to a County in the the was to two All to this to the By 1903, had for his was to for In 1903, to was to be a bid to be the site. H. an $1,500 and a Cone or the was as the site, it was his Mr. Cone, had Flat his wife had a for area was as the site for a the of the and and the The is in the of in For the County of for a tax to to the tax rate and also to the a new the was in and Flat, and the In to the the of a bus was to up in the Flat area.40 two the was to to was Court for one if in of $1,000, also if of a of a to to 1928, The in the old This �117 IN While the of the the of the county, the in the this County of in the the of was to be as a By 1930, the for a had and in two the old to 134 the Coal was was not All and for dry and day.42 oil to the was to do this for the county. Six "Store-bought" the These a in the for a of ink.44 The of the of Dr. 1936 1938, Elk. its "Gone With the Wind," was just one of of the School to it 201,000 was in the "Greene Cottage," School, was at the of the in the by the county of The led to a County, which was as "the 1937, a to of In an and County and which the it a of the to the is of of the in the of of Clifford in 1937 of a the rest County. of the of to Rock" D.R the in the his out on the met A the of in for CBS. by of of to the her of In the oil, but in 1939 year.43 had to in the of 1937; JVo a best B. Driscoll, editor-in-chief of the was the fire the to for but was left to for the Book-of-the-Month in in was but The of the in the Park Post; the It was also in the 1930s for get the In 1921 had youth no One and This the of Public he "visited the character,"41 The of an in to the to which the the a of the was was felt and the 1920s, the he felt of the of As in Coffey has of of of the of by and was signed by in his and by the by them." the in the rest of of the County and County. of �Page V "Taxation Coffey feel "caused the of the not of the are by We officials" in the us the fact we will A the and is to the The one as the of the "Only one is to in our The five are of Cove Creek are of Boone." she had on to the of but not in "They a ear to our run the to suit Caldwell County to the of their to the north. The Lenoir News-Topic "a was out a of County go to for a the on of the It is the will be to out the of Caldwell, in the her of the of County." As previously, for the in the community. and the and County. Mrs. H. Cone, of Top was one of the of the She for a of she of County, the of a fire to be by by the county. The Cone of the groves in the only by At the Cone was the in County. In of (1937), the a D.R Coffey. The are the "I love to get tlie 95 per of our tne 100 for tAe County, oor county (// we fee to call it that), but as a effort, so it in return for one-fifth of the county we driven to it and or no so far as we can see, no in tne of our section. It but let me ask if it is not on the tax money justly to We are not county at with but I of our 95 per feel that the county government are a little (sic.) or two" \l "We \¥ of the county who see the './" _._ .-„ — = • " - • r ' f "^*=^, injustice are in with us, they Jcnow too on tne fee WJien in tne county n/s / tnis for J?ocJc, a to note tnat many of us Jo not it. Wfe ne a ..___. : ! : ; ; great hinderance to our development or "™ ; j:3 :s_: :- "..^""' " " Ji " Oh, fes, we a Blowing ScJiooJ prior to the WPA expansion of 1937 �"BOOK LEARNING" IN BLOWING ROCK/Page 119 which a for this a tax for the all in the We no in the of our in of or in the • I North our We you to see for of the the of some the for such as a playground!* of we i-r* -M or the in County. No bill in the the of the one to to 1937, and Mr. Miller's on the of the gymnasium of Blowing Rock School. of to did not the of the of A 1937 to 1940, Deal, a Fork, Whiting, to the (WPA), of at The It was a to the 73 to 3; at it the 50s. county was the a Fork, Aho, in May, added.45 Cool for of the rest of the county. of the suffered.46 In 1948 the pupilRock 269 to 9. fell This the hour in our community's to the for a countywide In the 1950s, I la well was for the the School was the in a and lack and control, was by to be a "fire and to for not It was the of two Dr. Jr. and W. Guy corrected.47 Davant was to the County of in an the of concern and in The W.H. Walker, who as of the of for 19 had in and 1951. the of to support �Page 120/Chapter V Blowing Rock School's Rhythm Band of a The a of County the "a of the of of the of They the County was Dr. Charles Davant, Jr. of and W.H. Jr. of Cracis, in 1955 of to the him." The On July 7, 1955, the a of and a Dr. WJG. a at the of the first of the was the a and The of and County the to the in of fire and the of the of W. Guy be the as and Thus for a of and the and the But of in of a the for the of and the to see accreditation. Uncertified to to college in the to and all of did so.49 was at Rock High from 1952 to 1959, Davant, and the rest in a he to to 50 the job it was "a challenge," Not had the lost in a benefit game (hack ™, left to right): Grover Sr. Jack Sharp, H.P. Holshouser, Sr., Robert Hardin, H.P. Holshouscrjr., Wilson, (front row): unidentified, Hayes, Bill Williamson, J.P. Lyons. k WaS als of ° in debt ^^ One °f the StOrie's administration W3S close �"BOOK LEARNING" IN BLOWING ROCK/Page 121 Blowing Rock Elementary School the and and in the black by It was the the Through FIA of Dr. Anne one Forsyth, to not felt for an For a a and the for in the in the 50s, and to the and of all in on to In 1957 a the as was the the in the School which had the and It but also 60s, two of of our choice,52 and a The has on In 1957, the Union was the in Act of 1958. Our on was by the of the in the Rock}s The County era. The 1, 1958, One was also the to of to be to the still of by was the a for That was the the by this and the and a and by �Page 122/Chapter V the yet all and the to the for all the in Watauga.53 the of 1961, the of all the the of a to for Under the Cove Creek School The was by on 9, 1962, and a in the of $1,630,000 by the on 17, 1963. The was to be in on a forty site $40,000. was in for the 54 of the 1965 year. The 133,000 of at a of $11.90 per the 1H I Blowing in the county to all of the the in High School in the 1950s five a facilities.55 Only the the A sad day—the demolition of Blowing Rock High School The was a the in and not only for was to and a of con- an for a of for its Chairman, Dr. Charles for Guy In had dramatically for youth. a of But but for in a In in to the to and A of and art for the was But for all its in and to gone, but our had to and left a in the and civic life of this was adding to Not be to rival, There the rest of the Now the had lost the of it. These The was and all of the not be to the �123 IN for the at the of the the 60s of for was in and loss as a and The are case in for and our of was a by loss was not or of of community" is like and to loss and the of an life in the That has as an is a the 50s. by are and the of in the and by a to a and and the OF at the is a a and David Greene to the the of �Page 124/Chapter V NOTES L Gratis Williams, "The Southern Mountaineer in Fact and Fiction," Appalachian Journal, Vol.3, No.l (1975), p.27. 2. "History of the Schools in Blowing Rock" unpublished paper, by S. Greene. 1963. 3. Ibid 4. Arthur, A History of 5. J. 1915. North Carolina t of of the County, A Centennial, Boone, N.C., 1949. 6. Ibid 7. Lanier, Ruby J., 8. Emily Educator, Durham, NC: "Autobiography" in TJie 1974, p.12. Story, 1983, p.75. 9. IBM. 10. AM 11. "Memoirs of Russell" in TJie Blowing Story, 1983, p. 43. 12. Prudden, op. cit., p.76 13. IBM 14. Bill of 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. E.G. of Cora County, in The 2, 1913. (In papers of Story, 1983, p. 78. News-Topic, March 2, 1892 op. eft,, p.76 op, eft, p.ll. TTie Was 1983, p.14. 20. Ibid 21. "Minutes of Watauga County 22. "Minutes" qp.dt., of Education" 1903, July 1904, April to as "*Minutes"). 1901, 23. Greene, op.c/t., July 27, 1987. 24. Ibid 25. AM 26. AM. 27. Ibid 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. IBM 33. Ibid 34. AM 35. Ibid 36. /bid 37. Aid of Public in by (In the County of Education). �IN 125 38. Ibid. 39. 40. TJie H. Cone's Textile Empire Mountain p.42. 41. "Minutes" op.cit.» July, 1955, Dr. Jr. 12, 1987. 42. Corbitt, optcit., p.43, 43. Ibid 44. IBM 45. "Minutes", op.cir.» 1955-58 and Guy Davant, 46. Ibid, 24, 1987. 47. 48. Ibid. 49. 50. Ibid 51. Corbitt, pp, 41-57, 6, 1987. 52. 53. 54. Ibid. 55. Ibid 3, 1966. 19, 1987. 1989. �Page 126/Chapter VI �OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE / Page 127 CHAPTER VI Our Religious Heritage it is to of the of a community's life as the of an or the of a church, is not the in Rock, Our can be to a a of the The with the in the 1790s. On to the the in County, North by War Ed Sullivan. He was the Sullivan fully of his own He with on his trip up the his He was ill did not to be in the in an grave, in in 1794, A was for a tree and the he on his journey, "EES 1794," was in soil on 27th.1 While Sullivanfs is not the which was at has of the Church on The first and can still be we do the of the to Yet our is and the rest of of the in our While our has much of the rest of the the as we a to the was the in the the Catholic Church or no to The in as but fell the was too to a it was too for Calvinism, its in the While the still a for of doctrine, the has The circuit or a for his he the of the He a his he a of folk he the was not to be the in Other still still in life it. did not a until the Revolution, but the on the They, too, log the and elk and like To all the the the in or the let his 3 the pulpit. The of for T/ie rombstone Of Ed Sullivan �Page 128 / VI the was on in the a and at a the to a to by on. and a as no To a for a few to be the to The or by the to the of on a and to the "cottager" was is a by the to be as the M. of life in can be The of the of one in The was in in Ingle, had by his to 4 a Mission," The as a of in her to "who in 15 in County.* The in the as the Crucis in the by to the The was by a C. on to the It if the to tell not the by a led to a in The — the the the the — to the all The of all The the the If a a an Mrs. T.H. Coffey the for at a has left the of the "old" "new" in her of life in in the A "Bina" her an on to A He Of course I o* fern in all to the o to on the the an to in to to nis A/5 The of she in the to in, to foe it "I a for fill Tairit 1 the in. ids too fur lie to to up one of the a the o1 fills her in on the There it He or a foig tall: to it TTiey 'em as on fern on got got lor a a or on as Mr. for, fem and rile the lest it He to tell in it rfie if That this it. and a to �OLR 'You see in the It all of the 'Wfell, she the was in. so 'em as the the you a fcig fern / to on the floor all the Me a fee/I — — J you a They to /ay It me /ee/ ../She on a veil as she had on/ T'other too, at, But / up a little, to set, on the They They pretty/ 'Two was fey the all the out the It last All the I if 'fej was the 'a a was a in / I 'Why not I Don't you the 'Wfell, as no fcut the of 'But at the cf/cf they/1 / Wot 'fcut as as A all It out her 'It to on fern her as o' in But of fem in on the a/1 all for hut for fern a to her o1 to in right, to the she 'He as people of was to 19024917, be He to "uplift" the in a for the He he as the of of to the of In 1915, he "our rare do not go to in in the Why is it? too to the gay or not —I which?"11 But saw just as the He 1916, "It is a fact the are by all 30 30 to an the of uplift* an The 60 on an of the 300 of not at all, or at all"12 to the his ^"* "^ of the He he !: to by per (to 18) he left.13 His of be as a on the the • - and not as a on his to a which The in was % • The Reverend William Savage in front of The Randall Memorial Workshop �Page VI on a — the life. His "Since of our "So the by in the on a 1913, big like the down"14 are the by the J.M. the in the in late work, the the its of for the to is — at the in the in to of the Church a a is by if a of The to the hill country" in the of if the to the did not. Such for 15 for still at 1928. Ed in 19144915, was a in 1920 on to as 1921-23.17 When a was in 1922 to the it was as an of a by the Church.18 When the War II, the W.C of the Church was as to the Church League.19 The Church the as be of the of the The to a on as the in of The of has a in the of this has the of in the the 1950s to in are an of the of of the but the of on church 16 life for Rock's of the Villagers the rest as 1900, community, including a town workers. family. the War II 21 in the the Civil on a and 1960s, a has to saw a the did not or Church in last in By the 1930s, pattern. The Blowing Rock Negro Community Center and Church (today the First Independent Baptist Church) The could to of the the late or in in the in the in the locally.22 In of 23 at 1919, it was and also in of well in 1919, "Some of sing." at the Church in �OUR late 131 had the by By the 1940s, this was no by of Life was still the Theatre "colored in the balcony.25 as at the Country Club, but not to as had on the with the at the to cut and a to the Lenoir on a 26 for purpose. A club, the Tin Top, but also It was in to an for A was in to a lot for a The of for the Colored Church Project was of of the Mrs. E Cannon, Julius Cone, Grover C. Sr., C.G. J. Luther Ovens, CH. the was to the The "It is the will seat 150 and will be in a shop, It is will be on in the church"27 The Community Church, on was on 6, 1949. the Village's with an The used for on Thursday or the off. 1960, Eugene S. was to at the Church by to the on the He this until 1980. By the to less ten and it was to the church. two the to use in the Church there.28 The Church in of a can be to the of the Mrs. M. of also J. Martin, a the Rev. Dr. Jethro of the Church in A in 1882, sufficiently by 1885 the Concord W.M. Morris, the for the the Church was On July 26, Dr. the The Church was by in use, it be on the new Church in 1905 and in 1912. The the was in the was in for the new and the be the in and by a of 1906, and that he was on the it Construction was with it a that the for his Dr. for the he �Page 132 / Chapter VI „ ,1 Rumple Cottage in of it He of the it as to the of the rock, if the it be On for he he it the of an In the spirit of the was in the the the of of the a part. Dr. during the Church, his a the on it to the by the of Dr. the Church1 in 1940, in his of a Dr. L to in 1901 so he enjoy the and his He a the to the Cone on the He for the his Gwyn Jr., "I'm the Dr. He an of of He to so the so the in on is tied to the Elk Mr. a in for as the by the for the was by Mr, the 1930s,. the to for TTie Reverend Dr. Jethro Rumple in at to the The on the of 50s. He the up one �OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE / Page 133 Participants in the 1946 Grandfather Home Day Festivities (left to right): Anne Bryan, Rev. Dr. Walter Keys, Dr. W.T. Tare, Stuart Ross, Jean Wilson and Mac Morgan. The three children were orphans from Grandfather Home. "Burning The Note" ceremonies at Rumple Memorial of the highlights of the These in as much as $10,000 at a time, up to one-third of the Grandfather Home for Children's A was built in 1931 in of a to Rock, The G. Buchanon the Village's full-time living in the with his until 1938, The Rev, Walter Keys, Supervisor for the in the the 1920s from 1940-48, in the home-front war He on the monthly to all Rock in Mr, Keys' the Church for of Lay had strong, the Church to Annie (Mrs. Joseph) Cannon was a during time. She not only aid the but highly as a teacher. The with the of on the of the community, the Church with A Committee was in 1962 to the the The Church's in 1987 saw it to the to its to the of the mountains.30 �Page 134/Chapter VI Charitable, to a truly less she - These are her life to Through her Good only the to she a of on 9, 1887, to Dr. Myra, she arts the Cannon. to a the Club in will all Lot Ludlow, a civil up in Winston-Salem,32 in his a to her One spring on a she the 32 of her in young, Cannon. the son of J.W. Cannon, a and one Textile Industry. The of our when Joseph Cannon built a in in 1927. They the "Miramichi" happy a for family,33 Shortly Annie Ludlow Cannon built, which to in the in the of the Cannon the the of The a of for the no or malls.34 On the at with in the on the porch. In a by H.E. to was to the It was "Hymn to Miramichif35 When the Mrs. the will be by to the of life in the 1930s, she in the Community Club. she Mr. of 37 for are in honor. She her and to she be as the life the of Christ. It was at the Church of in 1917 Mrs. Cannon the Good Club, which on for This to be a of she the had on her 38 as a her to the of Rock. gift for she as a the 39 Child Fellowship. one of her this was justly was she her "I the very 40 you the Spirit." the use of "Scene-a-felts," a by felt on a as a She an for aid in the for a kit. When in the a few so she sat in a of oil the of the she to She of was the of the As she a the �OUR she a felt on the as the a was The a in awe by an to the the 135 with the sky At the end of the the them, did not her to or to the Good Club. She her to Sky for children, the Colony for the 42 Colony for women. In she and was to in County to a her felt to Christ his to all in she a Storf to in and Counties.43 She also at and At the age of 75, 60 of she the Club. But she did not up her how to use the "pupils" on the 44 which she begun. Mrs. for was very She of the with and "Miramichi" was on a the John's so she the As one she in the at She was an her 70s. in the of "community" and the Show. In the of "She was not only an in the life of Rock, but she was a in civic moral which was in the community." Cannon was to in Rock. was by and gift was the she set for all with she in in her on 10, 1965. In 1970, the at Church was in her Mrs, Cannon on "Silver Slippers" for a parade in 1942 The master teacher at work with her "Scene-a-felts" �Page W of the first of for the led a of Ed for the led the first of the fifty The the for up the Holy of the 18, 1933. T.H. the use of the for a in 1947. to the of the of the was Mr. R.H. of the on and the was in 1948. of St. Church in in the new in its the Churches by the it as a a it was to the of St. in The of the has a of for to to far churches.45 The in the 1930s Church on \ "X. in 1976. is the to is in a of to use the for The by the Christian Their to the so at the of the the the church building at the of but a a Mr. the for the and a was in June, 1955, The as a of to but has was in 1967, and by the An of all are and the These was In 1954, The for �OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE /Page 137 The as a H. Cone to of Flat Church by for the of his its Mr. was the one by When a one Cone and was and the for his was by the county. Mr. Cone the The t the town of in the 1920s. It had an forty When the was Mrs. Cone to it to be as a church. She and the Ed the Church for in June, 1928. The or of the Cone Cone to the Service, but the a of for of the Flat area.46 Church of God The of the country's the was the has to Church of God is a Church of God, one of the in the a in the old to church, for a church from God, in and of the Spirit the Church. The a of of the Church has in the life in of was of the in in community.47 by They as a At that time, the to the Church of God. The Church of God believes in the as the in full and the Lord's in The in 1948, for The by of of the in of the Pitts, a for and of the has for the to �Page VI The : The its to i Church in as the of the The a of worship for Methodist Church has a history to the turn-of-the-century. In 1900, a plot of to the Church South for the of a sanctuary. The built siding, twenty-four benches. It by a of circuit-riding until 1932, when it to The for it to the Christian in the An was to the Church as a in 1947, but only In 1948, Dr. H.E. of Duke University to as a until he in 1964. not has an in the Villagers life One the was for his The residents.48 50t/i Anniversary Pageant of the Blowing Rock Methodist Church at Yonahlossee Theatre, August 27, 1950 St. of the The first Church in was a a bell 1890. It was a of a fund by the of St. Church in Lenoir. Originally the Church of the Holy Spirit, the was to St. Mary's of the in 1918. County at the in Valle Crucis, and the as "a of a mission." This in 1902 with the of the Rev. Although for the Valle Crucis he much of and to live in Rock.49 �OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE / Page 139 ; During tenure, 19024917, the was He the public library with the aid of Mary Nelson Carter. He a of in Southern Churchman for the inauguration of Theodore Roosevelt, He sell the to northern and the 50 Craft Center as a local shop. The current Church was at the was from County.51 It was by a contribution WW. the who Chetola Lula was a that he the in for his the of the Titanic.52 The of the church was laid in 1918, and the in 1921. In 1920, Stringfellow's wife A the church to the of God the memory of Parker in the of the church. Shortly Elliott his 'Madonna of the Hills1 to the Church. In honor of the painting, the Church is known as St. Maryfs of the Hills. The.painting the Clark Prize, for the by the National of Design in New York. Services held only during the until 1951, the Rev. Thomas the year-round had in year-round, but his throughout County.) The continuous of the led to a milestone in 1964. That year, St. Mary^s the of a to that of a church, contributions of its own to the for The which can be justifiably of the support it has the Village for a century, can in over a century 53 of for church organization. The First 1903, in the Church was on July 11, Public School with Mrs. Greene, Mrs. Mrs. Mr. Mrs. Mrs. Mr. J.M. Mrs. Lentz, Mr. and Mrs. J.E. Mrs John and Mr. J.A. The first was J.W. Thomas of Lenoir, a long-time visitor.54. The church house was in 1905 on. �Page VI the It the the to which A lot in 1923 in in 1924 paid.55 This a the by These chilly In the to This be up to of a yet Church The with the a big was to It was the and on was in in the on the for be In the off to if a the in 1968, led on Drive, was and the 360, Chapel, 160, the 200. A for the Church was on July 10, 1983, the of all on the property.57 The Church has an role in Rock's history. A was in 1913, the Church an in for the Ed was a of the at Flat.59 60 D.R Coffey, was of the Church for twenty-five years. was the in the to in the Village. It was not only one of the to but the for of the War IL In 1948, a of with the up of lay The by Jewish Dr. Lazaron.61 These civic up the which First Church has the While the has to as a of has the of Rock, to in 62 the Village. the as "the church," ML was It was by in of the the fourth first but was not in July, 1886. The Church was by the John the in December, 1882. On visit, at the of In April of the The Rev. Mr. his to and the aid J.G the The Jacob Klutz �OUR 141 S. L Jacob the of the for of the of it be J. S. L. of the at the on A. and 1921, when it Sr. the late Dr. in the 1940s.65 The felt the old an it to the the to the late a In for $16,500 A. Sr, to a of the it to the in of 58 A. the in his 3, the In 1953, the the at the "Little was 10,500 the Church," 6,241 has a as a in 2,22? Blowing Rock Assembly Grounds �Page 142 / Chapter VI NOTES 1. "Brief History of the Story's" unpublished research by T.E. Story 2. Kephart, Horace. Our Southern Highlanders^ 3. Arthur, John Preston. A History of Company, 1913, p.268. County, North Carolina, Everett Waddey Co., 1915, p.98. 4. Lenoir News-Topic, May 14, 1884 and Banks, J. Peeler. A History of the Southern Synod of the Churcht 1968, pp. 307-309. 5. Saunders, Donald. For His Cause A Little House, Appalachian Consortium Press, 1988. 6. "Skyland Institute" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, pp.74-76. 7» Democrat, February 27, 1913 May 3, 1923. 8. Democrat, November 20, 1913. 9. AC. Co., 1900. p.122. 10. Aid. 11. 26, 1915. 12. 13, 1916. 13. 26, 13, 1913. 14. 15. Daily Observer, January 25, 1913, 16, 1928. 16. 17. Democrat, May 27, 1920 Town Council 7, 1922, 18. 19. The January 13, 1949. 20. Valuable Albrecht. 21. on county churches may be found in: County, North Carolina: A Survey of Its Rural Churches Collection, ASU, N,C. Culture in in the County*1 by in for the Technical 22. Ibid, p.6. 23. 17, 1919, Democrat, 24. "Negro Life in 25. County" op, cit,, p.31. 26. Interview with Coffey, 23, 27. The 27, 28. to E Gwyn 29. 30. For a 31. 9, 1982 12, 1985. May 24, of the of Mrs. Mary Morris, October 8, 1987 Church see The op. dr., Democrat, March 18, 1965. 32. 33. H.E. Colorful Past" The 34. Ibid. 35. ibid 36. 18, 1965. Rocket$ Aug. 3, 1951. of North Carolina: 1942. p.6. �OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE / Page 143 37. "Mrs. Cannotfs Work 38. H.E. op, cit, Mrs. 39. 40. "Mrs. Story, 1983. The Cannon Tells of Teaching." The Blowing Rocket^ Aug. 1963. 77ie 41. "Mrs. 1983, p.28. 42. IBM 43. AM 44. The June 25, 1948 and Aug. 28, 45. The 7, 1964 and interview with Mrs. C.B. King, July 31, 1987. 46. For a Mountain at the by the 47. Manuscript church by 48. The and Pitts, July 1987, see The Denim King: 1989. The H. Cone's Family, 14, 1964. 11, 49. Leno/r News-Topic, Nov.27, 50. Arthur, op. c/t. 51. Carolyn of the of the Church, June 3, 1988. 52. Interview with Lula Gragg, June 6, 1987. 53. The Jan. 31, 54. The Dec. 27 1963. 55. The July 8, 56. July 16, 1987. 57. The July 8, 58. The Dec. 27, 1963 and June 14, 1928. 59. "Know Your Churches and Clergy", G. Carleton 60. The July 16, 1948 and Church. 14, 1959. Dec, 27, 1963. 61. The - County" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983. p.41. 62. "Baptist First in 63. Historic 64. "Baptist of the in Church in North Carolina, Publication County," The 67. Aid of the Church in the United 1908. Story, 1983. p.41. 27, 1963. 65. The 66. 1948, J, /I of the of the Church, Published by the Southern Synod, 1968. �Page 144 / Chapter VII "l\w �HEALING THE SICK/Page 145 CHAPTER VII Healing the Sick In the at of the the in the of the of 1900 did not a in the "granny women" a in the of the of the of the was or due to in no But These the has the a of saw a saw fit to do it. The of the to the of the town, the But is one of has our community to a far to of Carolina. The of of year-round and it a In one in a the on to a staff Only is to in the or so too is him, the fact Dr. Charles Carter with the Clerk of Court in in He his University in New York the Civil War, in Philadelphia.2 Dr. Carter's the in town, the "Mission Lend-a-Hand Library." He not only to the but he the to the he He to his of to for He in the as as the body his as a of God. The in was Dr. C. was born in County the of Dr. to in the 1890s practiced running a He Councill, and had two and 1899, Dr. ill with was by to Lenoir for The road tO tOO much for his Condition, a in in the of is in North in our has and the Dr. and Mrs. Carter's Home in 1896 his Columbia �Page 146 / Chapter VII Dr. Parlier John Council! at the the a gift in In a to the in on a was a Dr. for he was in his a teacher from Skyland Institute Drug Store in the early 1900s is The Dr. still J. his for his just Dr« on to ran and in the in the He was the in 1901. He as an of the of For was a in was to the to In 1914, to his and Dr. the good of not to "Granny** of Ed as a to the for on she was the last of the women" in her Dr. a the old, of the to the age of Dr. a of his ill was a But the of Dr. E. to the in 1914. just the of of the for was in the He at the but the he for him. There the he not While his be his on County be his of his age and he was to by to see He all, to to he a and had a He his This is not one the was and he had in was a waiting to in had a a a and the The was out to the the Windows no a The the very to use the lots and of the for In of in of the saw the to and he the His few in his a A his �THE to he to of to the of the to his for of civic to to his figures as Governor Thomas of Blowing on the of "Health Sanitation," his "disciples" the of The old the of the 147 the Dr. He and the on to the He to with the the I as of he as the who is sick. A is told of an old to "puny," lemon, much to the The could be by not was to in the but the did as was scurvy, had the to eat with Vitamin C in them. Dr. Brooks a for public the of of public plants, the He his in to his the of an he was by as a of Daniel him the of "Webster Brooks." He in his cat, Dolly his in 1921. in of Brooks* his of medicine in Rock in 1915, "the in County,"6 Dr. was not only the of he was a an In a "Bird he the for to One can see the he his role as cup as For the last ten the town of Blowing Rock has a by the civic of the women's clubs of this locality. So far the town is a sanctuary by mention only. It has not the of our inhabitants. It has not official It has no It has not by Tom, Dick and Harry love and air We no the lusty call of the White, The of the owl has The is The of a young rabbit is and the of the wood thrush at is rapidly It is time to act now! A and wildlife sanctuary a of for and to a of beauty and a civilized society, as as a or The good at work). on to the which of Nancy of the Pine Trail. The for to the council Dr. was also a and His as in "Dew Drops" which he wrote at his on Globe out for on the to at the a on the and the the �vn Dew drops— Exquisite, Nature's With a In the still Of a fairy dawn. What a As their On of the And the p/nc, Greeting a a The Ancf the a When It is Of the The And the by our the the Silently let me And the Mirrored by the J Ere the sun Drinks fern up. In It his a of his the Hill RockJs Mrs. hit it off to in the town.7 a the in the our physicians. It a the the of of Dr. It Pennsylvania, was the College in the only of World War I, she she Carolina. in the 1930s, ill of the last of on to of the a in of Mrs. her of 1930, in of a of of in the too for as the Dr. Charles Carter. as a two It was the the a for "flu" With so physician Mary Cabell Warfield, to Chadbourne in 1928. fell in the the in the trying "to see if the in an I she to day. or by the at in the but as a in of the to call a a visit to the of the of Missions.8 the A was to try all only as a last to �THE The 149 Clinic Dr. Mary Warfield with one of the many babies she delivered contact a physician, which not an in Prior to Dr. Warfielcf $ ' no to be in the her arrival, she was the only within an to ten radius.9 in Dr. the of 1931 One of her was to a clinic, which she quickly It was on the end of the Church,10 Dr. no pay for in the clinic. She The clinic was for "its purpose" to Dr. Warfield, was to "ward off of the of of the people," felt this pro was of her duty as a Dr. did, a fee for she felt for for they This fee was in or not cash.11 Dr. was a who as and yet she a of humor. She had a a her and sat in the seat of her car.12 Her dog had a to her Mary on the to for Rockfs sick. One of her the once by Dr. as he the on A truly Dr. Warfield's to her Christmas, 1930. oF himself would to up. On 22, at Dr. dutifully to Camp to a Arriving in town, she was this one late in the 23rd. the had she had a call to go to Coffey's Gap, 18 of lay on the this case 2 a.m., she a hot and set out for to find the on her car She got to on Christmas Day, two for her sick That was 14 seventy-two of care. Such was the life of a country the of In to the free clinic, one day 15 in Camp. This clinic was by the Church. As if all this not she a of free clinics to and if One of the of was in April, 1928, in the School, two as a was an Twenty had that day, by Dr. and �Page 150 a VII of Six she the on the an Six of Dr. the of a clinic for of the ago the gifts not to Clink its This was the of of but of and The clinic is a tiny for has to on occasion—but it is free of and full of A gift of a it for we are for our gift, a big porch for use this As of you the was a gift of Ms. in of her The was in of by a of her Now we are old. In that we had 70 210 bed a of conditions, one the of 3? The are the of and the her has the in life, to say of her Three to the fact the was on top of the of 23 it. One was a hurry call — a was of she was to us. The The gift of a It has set our in six at rest in a per day As this is as to The a of The the at the the to of the for the six is less the as of our can is free of as we are trip gift of a is of the The we fees has us a of we be a for to the we (1) An two for the a gift the (2) An of $2 a for Will we put us in not on. This has of of for to Mary MJD. Clinic 6, of the for the OF THE L ill is (a) a (b) That the is (c) the (d) to by he or she— to for for the �THE 151 2. (a) The of the (b) Any the clinic a in of the No will be in the an to the for the his full he the 3. be a of the (a) (b) be on is for be (c) the The Clinic by the she is at of the is to be she by this is to for a the Clinic^s the Clinic As a is in the in the at the as The a to the of in of The the for Dr. on of the 30th to to her in By 1940, A Clinic's and Theater. A in was to was for in for the Phillips, of the by the of the Clinic. The Ovens, J. at the a by to the Clinic at the out by A Mrs. Charles in of the effort.19 in of at the to the the shop, the the in of for the David Ovens, the the for to the of the "Rose Marie."20 the 1940 the Clinic had as a of Cordon, a of the of the in 1938. He all to the of his as a In 1943, David Ovens for the Clinic he on the 22 of and on the Special Committee. These at the Club. for at to at in the It for Ovens his to the for the "Pineacres." All of the the Country Club to the Clinic.23 An in He the of in fund-raising for the Clinic: "We Mr. the but just out he just he He the he in his he the has the fact to we the the one has Mr. The is and Mr. to this he and to the he the as at in a in the for the at a of of the the on of of the Community Concert in or Canada.25 to as Dr. by to be of of the of �w_ -r-hJi*^ + The Wallingford Clinic Dr. Charles Davant, Jr. to an to in the 40s to the months, to her in the of 1946, she was in her the rest of her life. Grover Sr., a South so his could the he by to his These though, the manner" in a But by 1948, she was to Tryon. Just a the community's for a Carolinian who had a in was in Lenoir, Dr. Charles Davant, Jr., in Lenoir. Initially, he saw only on for the to Charles a of Davant's In January 1949, the Clinic was to on While this clinic was it was still to the community's The Club to the much of the to the Clinic. Utilizing the the Club a and darkroom.26 The four and two —a the Clinic on Street. And it was without one of aid. The little community, with its of began to to he it "I in the clinic the Church" "One I saw or calls. Things just sort of and and and I the and told [his that I was to to practice"27 He to in 1948, and the has the of his and ever In 1950 Dr. was Director of a he to the In 1951, in a plea for community for a new The As everyone in the community knows, the or force the is Dr. Charles Davant, Without his friendship, in his patients, and his skill in and surgery, the be just another town Ever his in Rock ago, he has constantly to the of the building and to the best in equipment. Rock is proud of "Doctor Charlie" "Give a doctor a to and he can practice a modern, to provide care for its winter and and the of outlying communities such as Globe, Camp, Blackberry Valley, and Gragg" he over a "Coke," Dr. Charlie a "time out" to "My was a country �THE in S.C., and my was a in Jeb I cut my on doctors, of in the Fve in But I a to my our is my or the Another worry is the an of a fire, in the the ill and lost so you can why a do a fire facility in our building" Now of labor, for our children, Doctor Charlie is us to build a and so all get the and what he to do the work we a vote of confidence for Dr. Davant. The to the Wallingford By 1951, the of Clinic to to TJie "urgent" The That was an a — an of to of fire. If you've of not the and We has our he can do an A the ill and job, Let's to the is as only a a a for a Cone for the to a a of a to who by. What the The of The and a in 1951, in which had $10,000 the will of Mrs. but a only to find of Rockfs the Civil War, widely to 153 23rd, 1951, on the to For is for a. 1 a on/7 r° the few I felt our hospital it will $70,000 to feui'W a the $10,000 left to the fey the late Mrs. to tAis project But to the of the Under the circumstances, I am willing to to the hospital o/$30,000 at the the gift is on one condition, you on my to a f/ft as you me you an $30,000 other sources the project. This including the 15th of February 1952. With for a. you not Cone. I am to its a value as a pledge be or up to I am MTE Cone, a to the of Ovens, J. Anthony Panuch, the $30,000 Three Committee, the of Cone, J. A. Cannon, Vance, By the fall of 1951, the for the was a 28 hospital on the built on Chestnut Drive, and in of 1952, the of �vn a It it a a an to for the on a far of of The the of the the in on in the at the of to the of the its H. J.A. H.R the as of The of the in an editorial: the Rock, in the in 1936. a community the of the in is in We are an outgrowth of the its of less of Clinic, on its in job in a The for less the of The was not in Thus the the of Dr. Dr. in the has its A young Anne Cannon tne Ribbon at the 19-12 Blowing Rock Horse Show BLOWING ROCK HOSPITAL Tne �HEALING THE SICK/Page 155 A Hospital Benefit Fashion Show at is as out of the to The Clinic of of the to of the for in It is to the of Dr. the Clinic as a last but it is the it is to its for Manor or a of the to go to in for The in the In Clinic the per Philanthropy the Clinic at the its �Page VII a in the further the when the only for was as a the of in of or It or old age. in 1968, a on to the was by the Commission on an a A individual of 1968 the Dr. Davant Care-Center a so to the Rock's An for in the ill for for Clinic of to The a as chronic and which Therapy as in It of our T/ie Dr. Charles Davant, Jr. Extended Care Center an to �HEALING THE SICK/Page 157 NOTES 1. Van Noppen, Ina W, John J. Western North Carolina Since the Civil War, Boone: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1977, pp. 103-106. 2. Watauga Democrat, November 7, 1889. 3. Information about Dr. 4. from his grandniece, Mrs. John M. Lewis of Dunn, N.C, Democrat, May 25, 1899. 5. "Granny Robbins Beloved Early Lady" The Blowing Rock Story, 1983, p. 47 6. Alfred Mordecai, "James Edwin Brooks, M.D.," Part II, North Carolina Medical Journal, June, 1958, pp. 238-242. 7. "Mary Campbell Warfield was doctor of 1930-46," The Story. 1983, p. 21. 8. The Blowing Rocket, July 6, 1979. 9. Ibid, and telephone interview with Mrs. Carrie Buxton, March 27, 1988. 10. Ibid. 11. The July 6, 1979. 12. Telephone interview with Mrs. Carrie Buxton, March 27, 1988. 13. The Rocket, July 6, 1979. 14. Ibid. 15. Democrat, May 30, 1928. 16. The Blowing Rocket, July 6, 1979. 17. "Report of the 18. "Drive for Clinic Clinic", January 6, 1936, by Mary Cabell M.D. Today." The Blowing Rocket, August 30, 1940. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid. 21. The Rocket, August 15, 22. Tlie Charlotte Observer, August 8, 1948. 23. Saunders, Don. For His Cause A Little House, Boone: Appalachian Consortium Press, 1988. 24. The Blowing Rocket, August 7, 1953. 25. The Rocket, August 19, 1955, 26. "From a Tiny, Four Bed Clinic," The Blowing Rocket, July 6, 1979. 27. Interview with Dr. Charles Davant, Jr., November 17, 1987. 28. "From a Tiny Four Clinic," op. cit. �Page 158 / Chapter VIII �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 159 CHAPTER VIII Becoming A Seasonal Mecca the a the rest end to the for an and the the the Grover C. He of a par for as 19284934, and again from the World War, a of the of That As for the to In April of 1930, for the the of a in to of the The at the The was one of the In 1932 the for a Cloudland Cafe) These by visitors. to on the Grover C. Robbins, Sr.t at The Blowing Rock a The to all Unfortunately, its led to a an an The of the it to the its County.1 to to but the to for Tourists visited by the busload �Page 160/Chapter VIII Early visitors to a litter-covered "Rock The Blowing Rock's view is one of the most beautiful m the entire Blue Ridge chain a in 1933.3 A court Three which is a to Bernhardt. Grover and CR J,M. Dr. as the the free to limit in the and Still by the and the the and and a to the Rock,4 the of Ford, was the to feel Grover touch. A Chamber of Commerce was in 1934, with Mayor as its C.S. was with GE. GX and Dr. GR also as the first The link and was in the of citizens.5 But was not just to and the for visitors. He on the in of He to Hill to and to in the The Boy into in and put on as "good for all long.7 Tourism was laid the and Grover It was for the that he did. The had 338 in 1920 to 503 in 1930. the in The its 1931, for the first in an to the with AC. its of of As with the at the end of the century, acts of the in 1928 and 1933 of off by who The as and its in in 1904. It quickly, but 6, 1933 as part of to the Its was it was on 17, the first County to be to reopen.9 �A 161 of Two crucial in by B.B. Dougherty to (to Rock. The was the of President D. of the Parkway. The Blue Parkway a child of the It Smoky to for the 469 mile its Harry E of Virginia, a very of North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia on October 7, 1933, urging the to be of the WESTERN UNION Received lit ^ C F B ' 9 1 166 G O V T SN W A S H I N G T O N DC 7 HON J O B EHR!NGHAUS= 30CT 7 PM 2 3f ( """""" JUST HAD A TALK W I T H THE P R E S I D E N T W I T H RESPECT TO THE CONSTRUCTION OUT OF FEDERAL FUNDS Of A SCENIC H I G H W A Y C O N N E C T I N G THE S H E N A N D O A K AND GREAT SMOKY M O U N T A I N PARKS STOP PLAN in 1933, to to the the Great It is the to the of the to to inclusion. G O V E R N O R OF N O R T H C A R O L 1 N A R A L E I G H NCAR=" I S TO F I N A N C E FRO!,! F E D E R A L WORKS PROGRAM W I T H O U T O B L I G A T I O N ON THE PART OF THE STATES was the in and FATtONS AM MWJESTED TO MVttt THE COMPACT •? Thh b • faB-rm* Telegram or OMe- The EXCEPT AS TO M A I N T E N A N C E OF ROAD STOP THIS* M A I N T E N A N C E CAN BE R E A D I L Y G I V E N BY THE STATES BY REASON OF THE L A R G E A M O U N T OF I N C R E A S E D G A S O L I N E T A X D E R I V E D FROM T H E T O U R I S T S ATTRACTED TO TH!S ROAD STOP THE PRESIDENT SUGGESTA A S?,flALL TOLL SO AS E and the for "millions" of to to the via "the in the world" of the of the at the of the by of on July 21, 1934. They had no idea of the the on the or would be of the Not all one David Ovens, had this to say the in his If This Be TO M A K E T H I S A SELF L I Q U I D A T I N G E N T E R P R I S E STOP T E N T A T I V E SURVEY I N D I C A T E S A D I S T A N C E OF FOUR H U N D R E D M I L E S TOTAL COST S I X T E E N M I L L I O N DOLLARS STOP HUNDRED SEVENTY F I V E M I L E S I N VIRGINIA HUNDRED FORTY M I L E S I N N O R T H C A R O L I N A A N D N I N E T Y F I V E M I L E S IN T E N N E S S E E STOP T H I S ROAD WILL BE THE GREATEST SCENIC ROAD IN THE WORLD AND W I L L ATTRACT M I L L I O N S OF TOURISTS STOP 1 ASK YOUR COOPERATION I N THE PROJECT AND IF YOU APPROVE WOULD A P P R E C I A T E A TELEGRAM TO SECRETARY ICKES= HARRY F BYRD. I had which we are all without it and The the through the Cone to the We to do are few on the is and They are it this in Rock. As I I go out to see the are The isn't much, but the to be terrific. Since we are our to of it, we could get it. �A His of was a the the *30s, '40s and '50s. He J.B. Ivey in of the in the to his in the was a in 1951, to the and the in was for his of strong and wit, all of are 11 He fun at the of for he as He had a few to say his is a fine It has a of and the the rich prices and The be to fill the a like that." he had the of any but he his He the of in 1910, the to to the Club. He was one and of the for at the In in his into of its the He also the to Post card depicting the simple charm of the Village But to K. and his and "the At and the to his and the in for the in the Ovens Hospital a the and the and a in in the the Elk. and like to for for in a old city of Club, ErouP' He is a the also for the the for the the Concert to the and of the on the of to and the its all of A Church Church Day in The of the the to in was of the to to by ': :r . .. : . -. - . ^t*. *• -~;»:.-"-~<±±..-' '• 7'w^ -* ---'^^ox • "Pineacres," — The David Ovens home on Goforth Road and Wonderland Drive Tufts, in the to as a of 1897, the tO In the �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 163 in Rock He the of the the to of life in he the in 1914 to for no or to for David Ovens (seated) with Anne Bryan, Rev. Walter Keys, and participants in the Grandfather Home Day festivities at Ancf Set Aglow A a of income. of the "Early in the the in The was by on Dr. was a by of the The to to the of the The to the by the of to The Ovens. In 1939, of the at the as an the of Thus of the on the for the in her Tufts, as as Dr. I. in the "the world" to The and the the In 1948, for his the of the of by you the fact the by in the was a of for was a in of to "the of the the an the Day "We the of you as in for its Community, as a in We to the children." to in for the trip to of at the end a and in For the to was the last in one of the of the day the for was for in the for 12 his in 1957, the Their "David gift for his It in He a day of to in and the was the the for as a out of the it in to to It and of the a rare �vm for the the of a of wit as of It a wry merriment," the in the not the as of he as a for A in in all of its his of *the good life* with a to just the in He of of of civic for life still led a They TTie of The AX life and Jr. was the The Cannons at rivaled old sion" a The as the "in" with for the for Village the luxury While activities, fox-hunting of this led by TJie O./ Coffey and Rob Bradshaw in an impromptu game of checkers as Omer Coffey and Thomas Coffey look on We at in of the in 1932 as a only the of the was C.V. and Mary Cannon was the the top of the Ulric Their "interimstourists. Green Park life. Cottagers, of in for the a by the Hotel, Lloyd a but colorful life. As wryly "Fox-hunting at Rock is of out the or up a Our and has its The Blowing at on the just while the run to this of the (with of fire on a with the of the the the which the of the now off; the of who the fox is for; all the hours you know it the are Grandfather"10 The of the the Horse Show with its Here, the of air and the be The Charity Show, which in 1923, the Lloyd Tate, the Show's for the on Hill In the was a with Clement, Jones, Colonel Gray, who as judges at the to to of so the in ribbons. In 1928 the Show was to its The "a has (sic.) on the old May view course. Prizes will be in are the the day had a ner the turn-of-the-century. The 8, 1897 us �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 165 : -*'' "* &** Pictured with Lloyd Tate (center) are the 1949 Association Officers, (left to right): D.M. Bower, Mrs. Joseph F. Cannon, Mrs. W.B. Shu ford, and Charles G. Beck John Walt Gragg, long-time volunteer for the Horse Show "Junebug" Tate promotes the 1941 Horse Show in his own inimitable style �vm of Topic "The at Ifou to the thought the Park:" to in it! It the of the the on the it of gayety. One would so left on the Mountain, but when you collect the all the all to one of still a Green Park's for the of the tournament which was to in the gay up down, of the The sat at the Mr. L.L. of as the on the gay and to the gay The was a at having laid the was We of our the be the winners, but inquiring the we "ruled out" Their in this line as by the less There or who a of up a line the for "rules and and the in fine was by Craig, Deal, Taylor, Councills, The victory was by Mr. R. Craig, who at the Tournament ball at the last as of and Wheatley of Georgia. We of Charlotte, Thurman of Smith of as of honor by Messrs. Deal, Chatham Councill, the I could how pretty a bicycle might be at the c After the was the and T Craig just for fun.* They all with and the victors in the real out" Throughout TJie the on Show, the life in 1938 to the this There is, of course, life of a sort if you're not particular the circle in which you move. This is not but the truth. But it's so everybody United College students, rich the You won't be so go you Out Mayview~way the is $1.25 per and the at twenty-five a with at a thin Over at the Green Casino the is 50 per couple on every when it at 80 cents. follow the as The by far the on the no tell you, has a with a script of 75 Then you can any to by in an electric The and the at 1:30 but you can eat all Youll see of College over way.11 But was one to into the Furthermore, D.R Coffey the the of still lead to In of 1934, of on of the construction, was of the to the left out of the The of Prohibition was still a his On a had to A into a the led by he �A M.S. of of the vat of a in good by, to for to a he his as few felt the as a for had in the up While felt it the 167 so to DP. of a DP. and and was in to to its to the all of In the Village, as the as by the of to a in 1935 a for the his it or the no to or to his are all the to He has no He up to the nor to the You get and he to his He has his and and is in no He no on An to is on a of The of a not the of the so do the a to the of the get It is not a to but to An to the in to his in but of is and or the of in use of of the North was a to up as the to of the by the to a on the of was to In 1938, The a the On the one On the people.19 a of the in the not His it is the it the the one of who the on felt to be the in to in the she The it. He the of On of the of his as the old a the of the of the a being in 80 and to to got on her one the not to of she and he the the of *96 no of her in to be all D. of in a up for the �Page 168 / Chapter VIII �A All hotels Rock, the two hours of the show, a crowd of outside, held back by and by one big the whole bloomin' had 169 the It was the thing in a coon's age.20 The Democrat's account of the "Same Old Story" the of Rock Twenty the of "primitive mountaineer" by Rock could had its star if the of a girl the film young Mary Johnson of Rock hitch-hiked to of fortune. Just in she got lonely she her her. the account of the journey on 11, 1934: Mary Johnson, 14, did not get into the hitch-hiking the but she hospitality for a coat, and Her father, a carpenter, was out of a job her is so with $L50 brother, David, 12, Rock, N.C. in to aunt, lives on the of San Francisco. David was left behind in El to a and the at and hitch-hiked s c l though Fd get in the films, so I to Paramount,' she But that So I 'Oh, they are swell,' Mary, 'and I they will find our aunt.? She concern for her brother, but 'David's he will be all A Grover to the mayor's in 1939 the town could that, "The the months. Over 200 of the United countries. The North Carolina first with 72 D.C. New York 5 each"21 the in the Village's couldn't on 13, 1940, hit County any but had to be An at Shulls Mill completely and a of New River Power Light at Middle Fork put out of Rock's sole of a on Mayview Lake, and it only light a of the at a The was to water for the The the calmly, floors, out while for the to pass.22 One victim of the to be reincarnated was Tweetsie Railroad. The small 1881, in had was to She the by she and her Johnson, She left to Columbia.' of 3,000 all its 14, 11, A for the ,*, . + ^--. in : , t •/^w; „ i r. was to was In �¥1/1 all of to to Small on the to than a "wave down" the by a of the was the an out of the City, the of the Cranberry Coal and in 1929, left to be the work and who, in The &L the for to the line in the of 1940. County the to the of the rail line to the the 19394940 "150 500 tins 4,000 3,000 900 690 and 1,500 4,775 of 3,800 of 75 cars of 450 of 510 of brick and tile, 200 550 180 200 gas, a asphalt"23 they a on the but the in the a the line was as a The LC.C. as the county's 13, 1940 was the last run for for years.24 The the but it in the of the Country Club. In 1939, a for the had a of By the to six of to the Golf Course. The Country Club was the of J. L Cannon - Vice-President; EG. Sr. - Vice G. C.V. Jr. be the Club's first In she, her Bill Brown, and a the Club's Mr. the first at in June, 1940, and the was the Mr. A.G. of the construction, which was in 182 at a cost of $40,000. The was in and and At the a of one end of the to the On the was the a two-story of a with of a The for for The It was Country Club Board of Directors (left to right, front row): Frank C. Brown, C. V. Henkel, Jr., Luther Snyder, unknown, Barney Garrison, David Ovens, (top): unknown, F.G. Harper, James Harris, Charles G. Beck, Anthony Panuch J. Luther Snyder �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 171 iljl at of the of a to add depth. The The seat the the six one full people. This up the was to the The was a in the end oak was was to the the to to as the pro. The Country Club its on July 4, 1941 with an and for It an for the in Rock's crown. The thirty-three see the Club a visit Mrs. on 1, 1947. A fire the on 21, 1974, of on in the of guests.25 A to the Club was by an to the TTie in 1941: With the of the Club to the a of and fun we a With the Club cool on the watching the on the and you will envy their you wouldn't your on the for a you will be a friend.... You if you and of you will is an incidental thing you'll at the how this mountain is the of the the sun slip the mountain on its way to the other world you'll a car a of young will in with of laughter, go racing down the to the for a and to eat drink going to for dinner. Then soft the Club you'll the of people people to and war and all the And then you'll it's to slip out of the you are in on to and things. Youll get up and to your car and won't think the Club you and and you'll you to the world. There on the of the Club you found a certain of life in in in that that from You the Club hour to you and you are happy.26 for If to as a resort, the Country Club by the a 25% in growth was 1940 to 1941, The Chamber to come.27 Grover �Page 172 / VIII a throughout Florida the in 1940 1941. His to the of as a tourist as the for he was so at it as in the mountains.28 The Chamber of Commerce the of "Blowing Rock, North Air-Conditioned in the Highlands" of the of in 1935 when C.B. a 321 Chetola and it for homes.29 With in the and the trip north. a M. to as Chapman was of the with a of who 30 at the at Rock. In 1944 in 1946, the of the of Commerce was W. a real a Lloyd was a 31 his in Florida. as as real by out-ofThe the Inn, two of the Villagers by Fort in 1945.32 The 1940, the Village's of the which did World War I, twenty-five By to 655. The population, the Village be the of the to Guadalcanal. the as well. Many left to the work force. like Sue Coffey, of the war in for use in air overseas.33 For the war Harbor. In 1940, the Rock Church county's Cross for the relief of civilian war The May view 34 and its and for a Red Cross charity dance. In the of 1941, a for was with Dr. Cabell Warfield as Chairman, Mrs. Hal as as Treasurer,35 The Green Park-Norwood Golf Course a in conjunction with the Country Club for the War Relief Society. our entry the in the of 1941, gas 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. to fuel37 In 1942, Blowing Rock to the Tires and a of the When to wreck the town's economy, so Walter Keys, of Church, a to Washington to ask for help. A of Interior had Rock, to the ration of fuel to was as an A miles-per-hour limit was however, and was still for use. Forty-two with driving throughout 40 the in 1942 of as a result. When for lubrication ran a of and would act as a substitute. On a it to a visitor's car it could be seen.41 The at one per was one per person old or older) 42 five weeks. to their to the was a for both for The Democrat "The up so much of the are the of the stuff up. Where formerly 44 for 75 a the (1942) $1 to $1.50" the was a two-month ban on the production of in January and of 1943. that quickly and the use wax This too unpopular, though, and was shortly lifted.45 �A to and in for the While the Those who did to the Coffey a Cross program.46 metal47 Clyde Dula at of in 1942.48 a had volunteer and of for So for be Lt. and son of Dr. and the first County to die in in July, 1943, a in his the U.S.S. on 7, A by Grover Jr., he was on of of 173 to fuel to get to / was luclcf, / was with the pin out it me down I was the to get over the other, and every and I is like and if I ever get at all to it. The of it is not the and lying in with to don't The of it is the a hit you it and it without and a up I don't is a who wouldn't was a on Iwo who had in the for or a leg to get out of it. I how much a To you will me. The off but all 1 got to be I will tell you as All fear it is just to be if he but a the war 42 and in the Mrs. Thomas paper, in Grill a A.P. He was by 1944.50 Iwo the for I was hit I was the Nip's was a up. This is I am alive.... all it as I feel any on the going and you get up in you and to in it I gladly a an one.51 the of and the 256 was in 1946, as its first In 1952, 256 was a on a of just of the Park, the of a the construction of a With this was and on 20, 1959, the first was in its new home.52 This was as a of one of the last acts of Grover as The on which Tom Coffey's Inn was the for a as of the Chamber of Commerce, for the of the by the On April 3, 1945, a was on a for the of the The was 141 in of the 51 On 18, 1945, the for the Inn to the Village of Rock. New could be for the of the importantly, the bulk of the in the was for and A was was of Cannon, Mrs. W.K. Grover W.B. Castle, and EW. The a to a for the for a courts, and The was to be a to all in the World War II. Grover would go on to as in 1945, 1947, 1948 Of his acts the Village he so the be his memorial.53 �VIII As the a the in outlook. While the For good or for the test on the not was so The with John Goodwin, in and the to its 175 of to was a or set to on July 13, 1949. It was by L of R and G Company, the community's J.R. of the set, only one but it a one. There to the the in Charlotte July 15, 1949. by Charlotte Square dancing at The Legion Hall the of to in the away.52 in the Village, Unlike the set, John Goodwin Guild its Virginia at the of Grover Robbins. Goodwin over 100 old "drafts" he his and Goodwin Guild was truly a which they an of Rock's a • rp r I 7;: o• lit • O F F I C E S ILOWIN6 MCI. I.C John Goodwin (center with is pictured with fellow officers of The Blowing Rock Chamber of Commerce (left to right): Bob Hardin, Howard Barnwell, Mrs. H.F. Custer, Luther H. Smith, and Eli Mattar John Goodwin �A As as 175 a tourist a of the the Village. A.R of Greensboro, of Activities of the his was the Campus the of of North Carolina of Two people Dr. In 1921, Dr. as Children's Camp Philadelphia tutor. It was while at this a in the Blue which would embody their learning.53 of 1922. It was by The in the Winkler, the of a of W.L. Farm. The was five on Pine as North Mill Winkler of on the Shulls to a to sell the to who courts, stables.54 Local a cut the property. The hired to build the was just to in a the to the Camp Yonahlossee girls on The Blowing Rock be in the south. They in the late 1930s was for of the 55 camps. the of The of the to an "opportunity to get the of to a not the to and at the and ideals."56 to be of to Camp the of 7 17. the "bunked" in age A "Big Sister" the the The of the North but also Carolina, Virginia, and DC. In the by bus or and up at the or it was not to see of at the Chief of of the his to "Camp Y" as did CBS One Roger Mudd*s put on the list the to All of the of the — all "roughing it" in no in bunks.57 was in in the much-of cows, "insured the of to" who 58 to the camp " in the to the The to corn, This was one the got the years.59 When the first Dr. the of March, April, and for the The to 100 a of 40. it was the to a to be to an in the the of the "a of the and will on the in the of A her council, The Camp Pow Wow body), for the will a of life the of and school" By 1938, in its "an �Page 176 / Chapter VIII of 150 a educational and at the character"62 A a in 1951, The the a stunts, archery, fire building, to the craft, arts diving"61 The for in 24 their hiking, music, and at the fun of wholesome in "With for Rock was the Camp Cherokee. by Mr. Mrs. Cone, Camp Cherokee was a which only After the Hodgkins financial difficulty in 1941, Wade Brown the on which Camp Cherokee Brown, of the best-known of the of a Country Town Lawyer, of the in 1944 to a woman, Vera Lachmann. Dr. Lachmann was born in Germany in 1904, the of a of German-Jewish She a Ph.D. the University in 1931. to be a she her at the Odenwaldschule, a in which on the of international understanding, tolerance, the In 1933, she a for the of had the public by the Nazis. With the of which led to World War II, Dr. Lachmann's school During Hitlers of terror, to in She fled her Germany in 1939 and would to see her to America in was at College, but she at College, Bryn Mawr, Yale, the of York City. her at in New York 63 New Hampshire. It was Mrs. Clemens of Chapel Hill Lachmann the in the of North Carolina. In 1943, she a the in as like to say, "she was hooked" One of cool and an which would an all-consuming she would a for in the T.E. for a few in Mrs. 16 for an infirmary, an cabin, a cabin, a cabin, a room, a unit, a three-room hall, a three-room building The Castle.' " Other physical with flush water, a two-car an plant, a 60 system. Camp Y a well-rounded activity which "Daily devotions, fire inspirational programs, Counselors at Camp Yonahlossee for for �A was _born. It was a trip as Director of Camp in the the as her life in was the in his 177 a journey German to and a of accomplishment is would turn out to be as turbulent of 1944. It was in of Thomas "Old Catawba" the for looi Angel. During the the Camp all of supply, In a to a Vera "My top is my a my and But of us to or has any of to buy in or of We no We it up For are very few the of a is a real difficulty"65 the the the to city up the hill a was The the to the of Catawba." They helpful to a to "Fred is the up the The are us a we do ours. Through the and Mr, the of Commerce is me an list. I off two is properly"66 to Dr. is'a at and and /I its was an in the The was so two Carolina of the At children of but to the Camp. many ^ came in and the first five the of was The to to Ira his on the Camp was Ira was at Fork his in This a on the on the as They by the as and and a of to the "Their had a the One of the to "You get to but was a to all I the of their the of and They of corn, in the children. Their of was like and as as had life. Their and their life are to the at the at the Show. This was an The a in primarily for the of in the the "the they off to Coca-Cola, the of spectators " was by as in to the There "all of of the a of so on" was one in all of the it to Greek the of the to one "Few in it to But did not it, or if so did not the on account."68 the and was it was not In 1951, on a to the Camp. An in The the for its on to "color will be no bar to to the camp "69 to was her to the and her to live in the and her The of �Page 178/Chapter VIII as a for to use the in the was Camp to Courtney, of St. Mary's of the Church at the was of policy, and the by of an Invasion,1 Dr. Lachmann campers on a hike up Grandfather Mountain Miller luck, A in an on to the was to use the on of one in 1948. The left the He of a as "normal" was left With the off Flannery of 3,500 When the Camp in 1964, the "town the Campus policy them," In did not policy as an of in the community.71 Catawba for with "Catawba intentions"70 its physically to Rock, was Camp Sky Ranch, was the of Jack B. Sharp, a bus was It was he was in the this he he to of a for for to go the they the He his a friend, Marvin Culbreth. Culbreth, an of polio, first-hand such a was The two 72 to the reality. of North Carolina Culbreth 145 the H. Cone of Rock. With an an of 70 the site "perfect" for project.73 TTie the Camp: "The can be their fills the air with are in the for the who is a fisherman" Although the Camp WWII, when a of building the the construction the Camp was Three a and hall, the of 1948. Construction Camp was by the North Carolina of Health it "A-l" All the which it for the who When it it was the only for in the southeast.74 the Camp Sky Ranch a of the Camp*s noble purpose, in it support. Word the Camp the by of background, all — "from the girl who sent by a family, to the multi-millionaire's who has in the for years."75 In with our community's tradition of the Club and the Rock Club to for the Camp or to Over the all of the country Camp Sky Ranch. The the to 230 in the '60s.76 Initially, the was solely for boys, but it Charlotte both of �A co-educational. The in of the all has "to the activities" These There Mountain. picnics, camping.77 a church, but in a the of Mrs. Joseph Cannon her in honor of Mrs. Cannon, of her the Cone blackberry Camp Sky the the at the 78 of the camp. In 1964, the the to For 200 179 is a its the B. Sharp, of Jack's by to the In The music, Rock, for However, 79 son. the to the to Mountain. as "Carolina's Top Scenic Attraction," the in 1785 Michaux, to North by the Government to collect His him to Florida, the the of the to North Carolina. On 30, 1794, he in his "climbed to the of the of all North my the La Hymn cried, cLong live the French Long live liberty!1 "80 Michaux being the in North America, but say it is of the 140 With its of it is one of the peaks of the whole chain. the its who the of a 81 in the rock formations. It was as a in the 1930s. In 1935, an old was in the was to the of the There the Company a To pay for the of the the a toll82 Prior to this was to but of Dr. Vance, Dr. R. A. Dunn, Dr. C. G. all the by the of the mountain.83 In 1936, the Linville Company a at the end of the toll 84 sandwiches. At time, the mountain by Hugh MacRae, of a Wilmington family and of the Linville Company. was an MIT to the North in of an in the of When he saw the its for he to his for to 16,000 He the for a of its worth, paying 25 to 50 an the of Linville to Linville he built the Trail (Trail of the US 221. It to the 16 at a of $14,000.85 It for as a toll and When Mr. Agnes the was to son-in-law, W. On 19, 1921, the a Hugh, his grandfather.86 The Hugh Morton his in Linville hiking, of all the had to UNC-Chapel Hill, he as a a for his in trying to 87 a battle. In 1952, the to the Linville all No it No is, �his on set a which was to a Yet all he has in the is his of the foot In his "1 feel like Fm its and it's in my care for the being/*88 The did as was to the to the as This was the on top of the was for a lot, but this one did not the view.89 The which was the lot by a a 100 states.90 Morton a to get to the His was to a 218-foot The in at a in It was in 1952. At the it was to be the east of the Tar and all the William B. for as the the to the Mr. and his the first to The was to the and ice in the It can up to 3 40 are to at one The a one are not to on the 12.7% of the 30% of the will not of 10,000 to the By the '60s 10,000 in a weekend.92 A was to the in the f60s if he two for He Winston Church, was to Zoo to out a By Church a on a by at the Zoo. The to the go. The was has Ten to the the of a of "The Show" was on top of for the CBS Arthur's to a "The and The the cub was to be in the as this was the cub run as as she was Well, do the you — the the cub out the his as he to "shoo" her away.93 The as is history. After her TV. to the on for a to in Linville. She a she was to the if she to at she to be With the the a for 400 her 21st Mildred has a of each she of to the Mountain. While she has to she is in she will and for cubs. A and "ham" she has with she meets.94 �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 181 the for These "three of of visitors." In the These is on the Joe as the on the the to be "the is the "The as "The It as a In the of by on "they of of the is he to the to the "as the in June. There is no of In 1965, was the the list of to up to at was 32 "this was the in and far of 57,500 for the game in an at the the the and on the in the of the he of peace"100 The in July, is It was in as a the of by two a for the The at a in to for a the the 102 weather. the They the of the be on the deer,95 in_the United States" They of by are the has its very pool. in settings.96 the but it is also for the of Clans" of Mountain " the known reunion to John Parris, who has much to There on the ground, the They a Joe L. Hartley, the of to the Today the singing in all the land"97 Throughout the the for this Johnny the at the "to to to do to GREATsiwc �the America" When an in the in this was in to Five the first Grandfather 40,000 recent.103 Today, the and the Grandfather of "not only the in the the world." The a bit of is such but in to of the world, all of the in the on Thursday for the ceremony. On Friday, the an Concert, the Ceilidh, and a Country the of is in piping, Sunday, the with a by the of and Tartans.104 The and the Lynn to was this the Universities.107 of is one of the big area is In (the North Carolina in the state),105 A as an Officer of the in go a of the in the in the year.108 In has a 4,100-acre and of its and the the to the of the of the J. Mr. of the in July, has has the was by said that he of the the to the area and is also a bobcat.109 of to on also and and to the �A 183 the the "Tweetsie" by the of August, 1940, which and North to in as People she the a of sad she the of In July of 1950, the ET WNC the cowboy, the to her. His was to her a star in westerns.110 Grover Jr., son of of had the and Johnson City as a child. He was the and was to it in the of North Carolina, His plan...to her so by. He the a the journeys.111 In 1955 Autry to sell him his on a Period of Autry This set the for 20, 1956. M. 20th as "Tweetsie Day" and the to via Southern In Hickory, of the as at the of Journey" and "Casey Jones." TV. the be so in the train, was he too, The in Hickory for a and was at the and The and "Tweetsie Railway" was on cab in the eye of Frank Coffey, and the of the The old she had remembered.113 May 23, 1957 was the day to up the to The up the Lenoir was but Grover was not He a to the in T McLeod, of the The coal and 40-foot cars the use of 60 the to as the of her trip.114 When the the up to the on 400 midway Rock, real The was too too It was to , - • . ; -"^v^ to up . '"iJVf^. the hill, but did at " . - $=?.^:. last home.115 SSLlT' SS) ? an run on her Vs| jjon June 30, 1957. her first run was not announced, more 1000 as thirty lucky passengers rode the train on the track.116 "The as for one in her the boiler her power." Her for the ": - . " "^rS^T^ " ~'v-'y rS." % :j; «" ' . ' _ ^.v '" : r-'":;""::: :::y:':': ^=-"^"' " ;,: . If 11 :%i, . iiiS ?; .^^ffw^I^L"^? " ' : -., ' .; V .:f - : __ , *_ : • i, �vm trip was her the the It a at the at in the of the an at to air. At the of an old to a the a a an In jail, a to in the West" in of as she the of the was of the by the the 71,000 as one The giant of the as a the in is five As to the by has to to a visionary, a Tweetsie, Jr. at Mayview Lake of to off the a the in the the to for its of in of since.119 of the In the In to the top of a to see was 321. The on all and a of life still of the the For up by all as a few a 225-foot to an 250,000 to for an At the a top of the in has e e P °pl » It has our — an It C. Jr. �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 185 Let's Hit The Slopes! The of 1962 for we It Ski the of was we by the it Ski a This Bill He ski for the — the It This a rare as a — to for was He piece of a a ski in the he but the was for his of Bill to for the of in a The and not all of it it the up the to (a of the to but They the of the Jr., and Harry a Rock.124 Once the The of a ski fun at the of it Folly" to see for snow. The Tbar lift was by Ski Lift of York, at a of $30,000 the of its The lift was to 800 an to the top a the "T" on This lift by the chairlift The a on a at a of and a of big compressors" Artificial a of air in in The a of ski he and slope, and a 250-foot lot, was for its the 121 Rock. he He to a ski in the a lot of to the As of this to the ski it was a ski 126 of its of a for to he year-round. of the on he Thalheimer it be. He as a to the the on skis!123 the a Thomases,"122 Ski Lodge, he of on by an in the the slopes,"125 place. It a of ski a Tbar lift, a to �the would call the up all The at tell on the to the ski was it hit the for by and a 500 The was by H. M. Chestnut An was the of the in its was up to the site on the of The a staff of forty. the Tony 129 an in snow. The Ski on 3, 1962. the was 130 of an of construction. On the to the Those at the all of the all the Over one day and it was 15,000 the the 19624963 a to "The of skiing to a use of ice is to is not as as on it appear"132 to ski at the Ski "a of a to a 70-year-old man"133 the ski all the it in New shops up ski to for of the or the for residents,134 Thalheimer's to to the They a the to at any In 1963, the to a the Bill Thalheimer with Betty Simpson, "Miss Southern Ski Queen" �A on its The the ASU the in the to a in in its ski to A of the ski "got us out of the red" to the years.136 he at Ski and Ski was in be With the of the Ski this Jr. his this to be a he 137 Harry Mountain. though the Ski a in of the of the to visit the the Ski in 1968.138 for this was the the real As a result, the Ski was for $160,000, and the of the was to 140 Mountain. Ski has 8 and two and is for the ski school in the The Ski "has for for 100 for the Navy the for the Olympics"141 in the Ski as the in North Carolina, Bill in the of the forever.142 "Service with a smile" a 187 curriculum,135 its and At Hound his on to Ski The The for has the �Page 188 / Chapter VIII NOTES 1. Democrat, April 10 and 24, 1930 2. Democrat, June 13, 1931 3. TTie RocJcet, July 27, 1933 4. Watauga Democrat, October 31, 1935 5. The Rocket, July 7, 1934 6. Democrat, February 15 &. 24, 1934 7. Democrat, April 28, 1938 8. Democrat, June 7, 1928 and May 4, 1933 9. Democrat, 3, 1931 and July 27, 1987. 23, 1933 10. TTie Blowing Rocket, July 2, 1938 11. The July 8, 1938 12. Watauga Democrat, June 7, November 1, 29, 1934 13. Watauga Democrat, July 23, 1936 17. 18. TTie Democrat, October 3, 1946 RocJcet, August 24, 1938 19. Democrat, August 11 & 18, 1938 20. Democrat, August 25, 1938 21. Democrat, May 28, 1939 22. Democrat, August 16, 1940 and December 18, 1964 23. Watauga Democrat, December 5, 1940 24. Democrat, 10/1940, 5, 1940, 6, 1941, July 17, 1941 25. Country Club history courtesy of Mr. Claude Armfield, Mr. Wilton Evans, 26. The July 28, 1941 27. Watauga Democrat, September 4, 1941 28. 29. The Democrat, 15, February 27, 1941 Rocket, June 22, 1935 30. Trie Blowing Rocket, August 29, 1942 31. Democrat, June 29, 1944 and February 14, 1946 32. Democrat, July 12, 1945 33. Interview with Sue Coffey, February 7, 1988 34. Democrat, June 6, 1940 35. Democrat, July 17, 1941 36. Watauga Democrat, June 12, 1941 37. Democrat, 7, 1941 38. Democrat, May 14, 1942 and June 4, 1942 39. Democrat, June 25, 1942 40. Watauga Democrat, January 28, 1943 the Country Club, �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA /Page 189 41. with Ray Hicks, December 5, 1987 12, 1942 and 42. 43. 44. Coffey, 29, 1942 7, Democrat, 5, 1942 45. 11, 1943 46. 19, 1942 47. 23, 1942 48. July 16, 1942 49. Democrat, 11, 1943 50. July 8, 1943 and 51. May 24, 1945 52. Town," The 53. "Camp 54. 6, 1944 of Democrat, 55. Interview to of the County," 30, 1922 and July 7, 1938. Jim 56. of 1, 1988. 30, 1922 1, 57. 58. Democrat. July 7, 1938, 30, 1922 59. Interview with Jim and Elaine Jones, March 1, 1988 60. July 7, 1938. 61. 62. "Camp it TJie 63. Miller, Charles. A Assemblyt Newmarket, 6, 1951. 1973. p. 12-14 64. Ibid, p.7 65. Ibid, p.16 66. ib/d p.17. 67. ibid p.22. 68. ibid p.22. 69. ibid p.147. 70. ibid 71. IbM. R125. 72. "Jack Sharp 19, Camp Sky Ranch", The to 73. TAe Its of Man's in History", The 18, 1974 July 13, 1951 of Place Crippled Children Might Play", 76. The Charlotte Observer, January 20, 1948 and 77. is for Democrat, The Charlotte Observert 20, 1948. 20, 74. "Camp Sky Ranch 75. "Sky , 1983, p.42. "Camp TJie 18, 1974 15, 1955. in �BECOMING A SEASONAL MECCA/Page 190 IB. "Sky of Play", January 15, of and The July 13, 18, 1974. 79. 80. TTie July 4, 81. Hugh on November 10, 1987. 82. The 3, 1935. 83. Tlie 24, 84. T/ie July 18, 85. Interview with Mr. Morton; The Charlotte Observer, Sunday, Sept.21, 1980 86. Journal, 87. Journal, 88. with Mr. Morton, 89. Interview Journal, 27, 1954. 27, June 27, 1954 and TJie Charlotte Observer, The Lenoir News-Topic, 21, 29, 1982. Mr. Morton. 3, 1977. 90. 91. Mnston-Salem Journal, 3, 1953. 92. 93. with Mr. Morton and The Charlotte Observer, Sunday, Sept. 21, 1980. 94. Democrat April 30, 1970 Daily News, 6, 1971. 95. April 30, 1980. 96. 97. Parris, John, for the 50th 98. of "Singing on the Mountain", Daily Newst June 26, 1976, June 26, 99. Daily News, June 23, 1974 100. 101. Oct. 3, 1979. Citizen-Times, Journal, June 25, for the 1961 in the Collection) interview with Mr. Morton. in the Collection) with Mr. Morton. 102. Interview with Hugh Morton. 103. for the 1961 104. June 26, 105. Johnson City Chronicle, July 14, 1977. 106. July 11, 1982. 107. the in the Collection) Trie Johnson City Chronicle^ July 13, 1975. 108. Interview with Hugh Morton. 109. Journal Constitution, June 13, 1959. 110. "Old Timer's Day at 111. Interview with Harry Spencer "Grover is a Wheeling, City Press-Chronicle, Thursday, June 12, 1980. on January 14, 1988: Mountaineer**, Winston-Salem Journal, 112. "Homecoming Celebration is a Planned for Tweetsie" TJie 113. Scheer, Julian 114. Aid. Trie House, 1958, is for 30, 1965. 17, 1956: p.45. 17, 1956: 21, TJie Julian and Elizabeth Story, 1983, �A 191 115. Ibid. 116. Democrat, July 4, 1957. 117. 3, 1957. 118. Democrat, 119. 3, 1957. July 17, 30 Years", 77ie Charlotte Observer, 120. 121. Interview with Mrs, Joan Thalheimer, 122. June 8, 14, 1988. 8, 1964, 123. Interview with Mrs. Joan Thalheimer, 124. Thursday, 125. "Ski South.,Then 14, 1988. 14, 1961. Now," 126. Tri-County p. 10 N.C. Dec. 13, 127. Charlotte News, Tuesday, Dec. 4, 1962 and Tri-County News, Dec. 13, 128. Mincey Record, Burnsville, N.C. Dec. 13, 1962 and Asheville Citizen-Times, Sunday, 129. Asheville Citizen-Times, October 31, 1962 the Interview with Joan Thalheimer. 130. "Shopper's Circle", Belmont Banner, Nov. 30, 1963 Winston-Salem Journal and Sentinel, 131. Charlotte News, Tuesday, December 4, 1962. 132. 26, 1964. 133. Asheville Citizen-Times, 19, 1964. 134. Sentinel, Journal 135. The S.C., 29, 1963. 25, 1964. 136. Winston-Salem Journal and Sentinel, 137. 29, 1963. The 138. ""Ski South..Then Now" Activities, p.10 139. Tne 140. 1987 5, 1968 and for 12, 1968. Ski 141. AM. 142. Tne Blowing Rockett Thursday, 4, 5, Mrs. Thalheimer. 29, 1963. �This page intentionally left blank �����������������A VILLAGE TAPESTRY / Page 209 BLOWING ROCK LANDMARKS �Page 210/A VILLAGE TAPESTRY BLOWING ROCK LANDMARKS— �A VILLAGE TAPESTRY / Page 211 Primary 500 FEET Trails cartographic services �Page 212/A VILLAGE TAPESTRY BLOWING ROCK LANDMARKS 1. Blowing Rock Hotel — Built by Colonel Robert H. Gray and John 2. W.L. Holshouser's General Store — Opened in 1893 3. The 4. The — in the as the in the 1940s spot for more than half a century 1800s by Dr. — on the foundation as the Watauga Hotel after it was detroyed by fire in the early 1900s cottages is present site of Jenkins Realty.) 5. H.C. Miller's — 6. 7. First in — in early 1900s, in 1870, Village's at the of the site of Hayden Pitts Service Station structures Church — Constructed in 1924 on the site as the original 1905 structure. County Pine Newtiques is 8. Wallingford Clinic — Town's second medical facility, opened in the late 1930s, 9. Methodist Church — Built in 1900 with chestnut bark siding 10. Church of the Holy Spirit Room — First 11. Craig's Grocery — Town's oldest grocery Church library, by fire in 1923 to Will Craig 12. Rock School — Closed in 1964 when county high schools consolidated (torn down in the early '70s) 13. Memorial Presbyterian Church — Original structure built in 1886 14. Chetola — Property first owned by Len Estes, contained boarding house and Snyders mill, of the 15. Sunshine Inn —-Early home of Burns family and well-known restaurant dating back to the early 1940s 16. Garden Inn — Built in the early 1900s by the Washbums 17. Dr. Charles Davant, Jr. Home — Blowing Rock's eminent physician long-time of the County of Education consecrated in 1921 (contains Elliott Daingerfield's "Madonna 18. "Edgewood" — The first Blowing Rock home of Elliott 19. "Windwood" — Second Blowing Rock 20. Dr. Warfield's Clinic — of Elliott Daingerfield facility in Rock 21. St. Mary's of the Hills — This Susie P. Stringfellow memorial of the Hills"). 22. Old 23. 24. 25. School — Located Mayview Lake, Rock Ice House — This early rock structure Company). — 19Q.Q to 1918 served as the town's first gas station (currently home of the in 1904 -• Shop — Affectionately known as "Coman's," for decades the local gathering place for the town's young 26. Goodwin Family Weavers and Showroom 27. Grover C. Robbins, Sr. Home 28. Mayview Lake — Formerly Watauga Lake, to be Broyhill in of the 29. Berryman's Drug Store and Soda Shop 30. Holshouser Home — W.L, Holshouser 31. — One of the of town's first merchants. residences in Blowing Rock 32. First Town Hall and Chamber of Commerce — Constructed in the early 1900s (currently Vagabond Gift Shop) 33. Yonahlossee Theatre — Site of premiere for Paramont Studio's "Spawn of the North" �A VILLAGE TAPESTRY / Page 213 34. Dr. Mary Warfield home 35. Ed Robbins Blacksmith Shop 36. "Bootblacks—Father Gryder's Shoe Shop 37. Joe Clarke's Homesite — First civic leader 38. "Lerada" — Colonel and Mrs. Ogden Edwards Home (built in early 1900s) 39. Blowing Rock Exchange — Managed for years by Miss Lena Reeves, this early craft store featured handmade bedspreads and homemade cookies and candy. 40. Original Blowing Rock Post Office 41. Town Hall, Fire Station and Jail — Managed for decades by Nettie Greene, the town clerk 42. Moody Furniture — Three generations of hand-crafted furniture, established by A.C. Moody 43. Schenck Cottage — Confederate Major Henry Franklin Schenck was one of the town's first cottagers. 44. Green Park Hotel — Opened in 1891 by a syndicate of Lenoir businessmen led by George Washington Finley Harper 45. Green Park — Norwood Golf course — Built in 1915 and expanded to eighteen holes in 1922 under the guidance of designer Donald Ross (became part of Blowing Rock Country Club in 1971) 46. Skyland Inn — Located at the site of today's Farm House — closed in 1914 47. Skyland Institute — Opened in 1887 by Miss Emily Prudden 48. The Blowing Rock'— Owned by the Bernhardt family of Lenoir, developed into tourist attraction by Grover C. Robbins, Sr. 49. Mount Bethel Reformed Church — Town's first church, built in 1882 50. Hughes Estate — This 58 acre estate of the prominent Charlestonians became the Blowing Rock .Assembly Grounds in 1946. 51. "Pineacres" — Summer home of David Ovens 52. Green Park Stables — Built in 1924, run by Jinny and Ozelle Moss (The swallow's return.there every summer to nest). . - 53. Green Hill — Site of first organized Blowing Rock Horse Show, named in honor of the town's first family 54. Ed Sullivan Grave — c. 1794, town's earliest known grave site 55. Appalachian Motel — Town's first motel, built by Grover Robbins, Sr. in 1951 56. Buxton Road — Charlottean GX Buxton built summer cottages there shortly after the tum-of-the-century. 57. "The Bark" — Popular night spot for decades (today Big Dollar Grocery) 58. Blowing Rock home of J.W. Cannon 59. D.P. Coffey's Grocery —- Served the needs of the Green Park area for many years 60. J.C. Ford's Cloudland Cafe — This early diner predated Grover Robbins' development of the Blowing Rock. 61. "Dawn Hill" - C.V. Henkel Home 62. "Tin Top" — Black Social Club 63. Major Harper Home — Constructed before the turn-of-the-century and later destroyed by fire after being struck by lightning 64. Alex Shuford Cottage — Built in the late 1920s, this home is among the best remaining examples of the use of chestnut bark siding 65.' Church of God - Built in 1920 66. Church of the Epiphany — Built in 1948 67. "Oh My!" — The tea room/gazebo of Mrs. Nan Cannon Stringfellow 68. Mayview Manor — Built by Walter Alexander in early 1920s and subsequently owned by Thomas Broyhill (closed in the fall of 1966) �Page 214/A VILLAGE TAPESTRY 69. Lloyd M. Tate Memorial Horse Show Grounds — Former location of Mayview Golf Course 70. Moses H. Cone — The "Denim King's" mountain estate, consisting of 3,516 acres, was acquired between 1893 House built in 71. Tweetsie Railroad — Part of the old Eastern Tennessee 72. "Westglow" — Elliott Western North Carolina Line which ran third Blowing 73. Julian Price Memorial Park — 4,200 1899 (Manor Johnson City, Tennesse in 1917 of forest, on the Ridge 74. Camp Yonahlossee — Camp for young girls established by Dr. and Mrs. A.P. Kephart in 1922 75. Camp — Vera Lachmann's 76. for young boys — camp for the physically handicapped in 1948. 77. Sandy Flat School — by Cone in 1904, the 78. Possum Hollow School — This one-room log cabin school 79. Silver'Lake School — Located near where US. 321 Church in 1928 in the 1900s. the Blue Ridge 80. "Greystone" — Home of Robert Myra Mebane, constructed in 1922 81. "Miramichi" — Annie Cannon, constructed in 1927 of Joseph 82. "Far Horizons" — of Cannon Forsyth, 83. Blowing Rock Negro Community Center of the town's Church — 84. Mayview Park Golf Course — Nine holes running in 1948 to First Independent Baptist Church) to 85. Lloyd Tate Stables — "Mr. Horse Show" managed this popular gathering 86. Glen Burney philanthropists of the town's — Donated to the town by Miss Emily Prudden 87. Mayview Gun Rod- Club — Built in 1917 and once managed by the famed wild west cowgirl, Annie Oakley 88. J.E. ' 89. Christian Science Church — in 1955 90. Cameron Morrison Home — Former North Carolina Governor �A An In Its 215 of An in 1927) Work By 1 in the the to to when the a the in a To of in of North the to in the of the by the contact with the of the Indian Rock, is of In the of at her of a grandeur. It is truly wild, peaceful, to the of in a country fall to on the sea. the the old of Italy. the pine the air the the in the is the of The of an the to one of the in all the is to the grandeur,; Did it not the Indian to in a in a beautiful? It is the early Indian, gone from this land, the of in the of the was a rock, thoughtfully the of the a Indian a of to He an of an Indian. Climbing to the tip of the in full of the of an the of old Grandfather, he the of the in a voice It a be for his spirit has gone to a land, but the rock today is as firm as theof the in of his the the and North Carolina, the in his The the of all tribes, the the A of the an beautiful so the in of the he far the to a top (Blowing Rock) left her with her to his a into the wilderness below. The him a cliff, in an in his direction. By by he her a of his Ere the the lovers, day by day the and in while the the fire the day a the saw a sky in the which he to be a of he to the but the cried "No, no!" In he the of the the The to back, but he her not. Then she to the to the to her While she to the Spirit, a of her to to in a has a the the of God's country; a' �216/A "Wauhonhasee" Just at dawn of southern history When North a And the red in From valley To the of The to The country and river by far Traveled undaunted and alone Through valley a Ere to on Nolachucky, Holston, Watauga a But the to his glory? in That the Choctaws, The Creeks, Cherokees Chicasaws to A divine, Tis four-score since their banishment From this land^a of There's a An Indian Who in of Wauhonhasee, of on high, the lofty sky. Wauhonhasee and her mother-squaw Were of the the Of the white man of So he to the "Land of the Sky" left her the sigh, The wildcat slumbering in his lair, The and of the air. But the of Nature, . Her her pleasuref The O'er Wauhonhasee As nefer so happy the gay doe �A VILLAGE TAPESTRY / Page 217 Down the narrows where the streams flow. Then to pause in silent admiration Of God's wonderful creation. And the strong and proud In his home above the clouds. Upon a blissful day in July 'Neath a blue ethereal sky, Wauhonhasee wandered to a craggy rock Far above the pines and hemlock, To view the fair land beneath her When lo! an Indian traveler, Decorated in the brightest wing Sat smoking by a babbling spring. Her eyes sparkled, her heart fluttered, And in her joy she softly muttered With the passing Appalachian breeze Murmuring through the forest trees. Then she lost him cmid the spreading pine Where rhododendron and laurel twine. Up with her bow—a marksmanship rare^ And sent an arrow into the air. Long she waited, waited in vain To see the brave from Indian plain; Long she lingered, lingered in hope, High up on the mountain slope. Then shadows grew dim, dark and gray To warn her of the passing of day. Quickly she bounded through fern and moss Back to mother-squaw stern and cross. In her happiness Wauhonhasee forgot The who heeded her not; So while gathering wildflowers to deck Her braided hair and graceful neck, The Indian brave appeared upon the scene Creeping softly behind the evergreen; There he waited for the charm of night. Waited to pour out his heart's delight. Alas! she scampered away with Fluttering in the balmy breeze To her restful, comforting wigwam And the incense of balsam. Snug and warm she lay in Utopian dream 'Neath her doe-skin fit for a queen While her mother-squaw peacefully lay Dreaming of the plains far away. �Page 218/A Out of the night ?neath a silvery moon Mid the fragrant lily bloom, The sighing winds and mournful pines Come a strange song—something divine. Wauhonhasee quickly to her feet, Listened to the melody low and sweet; Surely it was a message borne On the wings of early morn. Mid dancing, lowering shadows falling, The dove and whippoorwill calling, A willowy, youthful Indian stealing Near the wigwam with friendly feeling. Proudly he in plaintive song Of the Cherokees and warriors strong; His roving far from home and tribe In search of a lovely bride. Wauhonhasee's heart bounded in glee When she called to the Cherokee To partake of her cheerful wigwam, And a blanket comfortably warm. He told her of the brave Creeks in war Of the tribes wandering 'neath a star Toward a land of sorrow and unrest— A land they call "The Far West." Wauhonhasee grew sad and tearful, Her spirit meek and sorrowful. Had her chieftain father left her? Had he gone from her forever? Must she live alone on mountain, Ne'er to return to Indian plain? Must she become the Cherokee's bridge And leave her Chicasaw tribe? Long she waited and watched in vain For the chieftain to come again. Was he lost to his Wauhonhasee, Gone from the plains of Tennessee? With the Cherokee lingering near Driving away all sorrow and fear, Wauhonhasee's spirit back to laughter Clinging to her bold comforter. Then the Cherokee's ardent wooing His sweet and gentle cooing With the wind and distant thunder And a spirit to forever wander, �A VILLAGE TAPESTRY / Page 219 They bounded gayly o'er rock and rill Never weary and never still. Then to craggy cliff—a lovely sightWhere the wind blows day and night. Ere long they saw a flaming red sky That brightened the mountains high. "It is a warning from the Cherokees. I must go—I must go, Wauhonhasee!" Cried the lover desperately. In fear of poor Wauhonhasee He leaped from the cliff down the abyss. Down mid the winds' perpetual hiss. Wauhonhasee cried out in her grief To the Great Spirit for relief. "O wind! blow him back to my heart" She cried and she moaned in the dark. She prayed the night long, prayed faithfully, Ne'er ceasing until dawn beamed brightly And the mist had cleared, the sun did glow Down in that dismal abyss below. Wauhonhasee fell upon bended knee Calling to her noble Cherokee, The Indian spirit of other years To heed her sorrow and her tears. Quick as a flash up come the brave From the deep and unfathomed cave. Then they turned to worship the sun For the blessing they had won. Through wildwood and o'er foaming brook, Through loamy dell and shady nook, Wauhonhasee and her lover roamed that day Then back to the wigwam tired of play. Just when the gray of dawn appeared And before the mist had cleared, A raven moaned and moaned for the dead. Tis a warning the Indians dread. In the gray haze of Indian summer And the flowers gone in number, The maple and dogwood in Autum hue And the mountains in dreary blue, The chieftain of the conquered Chicasaws Wandered back to his child and squaw. In company with Wauhonhasee. �Page 220/A The a as a quick to the on in an Wauhonhasee There to mourn .her Down the silvery current She her lover calling. as the sun a to down in So the the her he her to his Twas a to the at Then down the mountain the Ne'er to wander back The The End �A (Individual/Family) A Abernethy, John Miles, 5 Aldrich, Harrison, 69 Alexander, Mrs. Walter L. (Ernestine), 56, 57, 173 Alexander, Walter L., 29, 56, 57S 73, 99, 101404 Allison, Mrs. WC, 65 Anderson, Tom, 9 Angell, W. Guy, 119423 Arthur, John Preston, 28 Austin, Fred, 44 Autrey, Gene, 183 B Bahney, Major, 3 Baldwin, Pinky, 32 Baldwin, William, 32 Barringer, Osmond, 28 Battle, Mr. Turner, 19 Beard, Ms. Bryce, 150 Beatty, Annie, 94 Beck, Charles G, 131, 170 Beck, Mrs. Charles G, 151 Benefield, Jane, 139 Benefield, Letcher, 44 Bernhardt Family, 159, 160 • Bernhardt, J.M., 160 Berryman, Dr. C.H., 131, 160 Besner, Joseph, 97 Beyers, Bertha, 147 Beyers, Nancy, 147 Bickett, Gov. Thomas W, 44, 147 Bingham, Mr. R., 19 Bisanar, Caroline, 58 Bisanar, Katherine, 58 Bisanar, Mr. &. Mrs. Norman, 58 Blackmer, Sidney, 164 Blackwell, E.J., 94 g, George, 171 g, Renee, 151 Blalock, Keith, 3 Blalock, Mrs. Keith (Malinda), 3 Bolick Family, 2, 177 Bolick, Clarissa, 147 Bolick, Lawrence, 39 Bolick, Mr. and Mrs. Ira, 177 Bolick, Stewart, 39 Bellinger, Martha J., 141 Bellinger, S., 141 Bomie, Annie Smith, 56 Boogher, Elsie 38, 43, 55 Boogher, Ethel, 38, 43, 55 Boone, Jesse, 69 Bowman, Eugene S., 131 Boyd, J.R., 174 Boyd, John, 3 Boyden, Donald J., 96, 164 Boyden, Lucille K., 97, 151 Brady, Mrs., 91 Brkkell, Hershel 117 Brooks, Dr. James E., 30, 146447 Broughton, Governor, 72 Brown, Bill, 170 Brown, Clark, 44 Brown, Kent, 114 Brown, Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson, 66, 139 Brown, Wade, 32, 176 Broyhill, Ethel, 76 Btoyhill, Gordon, 75 Broyhill, Isaac, 75 Broyhill, Isaac Jefferson, 75 Broyhill, James, 77 Broyhill, James (Ed), 75-78 Broyhill, John, 75, 184 Broyhill, Lillie, 76 Broyhill, Mary, 75 Broyhill, Mrs. Isaac (Margaret Parsons), 75 Broyhill, Mrs. James Edgar (Satie), 76-78 Broyhill, Mrs. Thomas (Mae Powell), 76, 78 Broyhill, Myrtle, 75 Broyhill, Otis, 76 Broyhill, Paul, 77 Broyhill, Ted, 76 Broyhill, Thomas Hamilton, 75-77, 104, 136 Broyhill, William, 75 Bryant Family, 109 Buchanon, Rev. G. Sexton, 133 Buckley, William, 73 Buist, Mrs., 18 Bunce, Betsy, 151 Burns, Ethel Holshouser, 29, 38 Busky, Mrs. Leonard, 151 Buxton, Carrie Miller, 28-29 Bynum, Judge J. Grey, 92 Byrd, Sen. Harry E, 161 Cannon, Charles A., 70-72, 151, 153 Cannon, J.W., 70-71, 134 Cannon, Joseph Franklin, 71, 104, 134 Cannon, Jr., Charles A., 71 Cannon, Martin L., 170 Cannon, Mary, 164 Cannon, Mary Ruth, 71 Cannon, Mariam Winslow (See Hayes, Mrs. Robert) Cannon, Mrs. Charles A. (Ruth Coltrane), 71-72 Cannon, Mrs. Joseph F. (Annie Ludlow), 71, 131, 133435, 173, 179 Cannon, Mrs. Stuart, '38 Cannon, William Contrane, 71 Carter Family, 41, 113 Carter, Dr. Charles, 10, 18, 41, 113, 145, 148 Carter, Mrs. Charles (Mary Nelson), 18, 37, 41, 113, 128, 139, 145 Cash, Johnny, 181 Castle, W.B., 173 Chadbourne, Mrs. Gertrude, 148 Chapman, Milton M., 77, 104, 172 Chatham, Mr., 166 Church Family, 59 Church, Ben, 59 Church, Iva, 59 Church, James Luther, 59 Church, Luther, 53-54 Church, Mrs. Ben (Neola), 59 Church, Winston, 180 Ciapp, Rev. J.C., 140 Clarke, Joseph B., 3-4, 1042, 1445, 17, 21, 27, 37, 66, 91 Clement, Hayden, 164 Cobb, Major, 98 Coffey, Family, 2 Coffey Family, Reuben, 2 Coffey, Austin, 3 Coffey, DP., 30, 45, 117418,440, 166467 Coffey, Filmore, 11 Coffey, Frank, 183-184 Coffey, Glenn, 39 Coffey, Helen, 38 Coffey, Lawrence, 29 Coffey, Lum, 167 Coffey, Mabel, 38 Coffey, Mrs. D.P., 167 Coffey, Mrs. T.R, 128 Coffey, Mrs. Thomas, 173 221 Coffey, Rhonda L., 174 Coffey, Sue,' 172 Coffey, T.J., 28 Coffey, Thomas H., 29, 37, 45 Coffey, Tom, 28, 31, 95-96, 159, 173 Cone Family, 18, 29 Cone, Ceasar, 66 Cone, Herman, 66, 151, 153 Cone, Laura, 153 Cone, Moses, H, 18, 35, 41, 66-67, 70, 96, 116, 137 Cone, Mrs. Herman (Helen Guggenheimer), 66 Cone,.Mrs. Julius, 131 Cone, Mrs. Moses H., (Bertha Lindau), 18, 41, 43, 66-67, 116, 118, 137, 153, 176 Cone, Sr., Benjamin, 70 Cook, Niley, 44 Coolidge, Calvin, 99 Cooper, Harry, 29 Cordon, Norman, 151 Corpening, I.N., 10, 91 Councill, Dr. W.B., 20 Councill, James, 110 Councill, Mr., 166 Councill, Mrs. Ben (Blanche Hagaman), 110 Councill, Tracy, 110 Courtney, Rev. Ward, 178 Cox, Melvin, 44 Craig, David J., 40 Craig, Robert 166 Craig, T, 166 Craig, Will, 97 Crisp, Annie Lee, 38 Crisp, Bynum, 39 Crump, Hermon, 44 Culbreth, Marvin, 178 D Daingerfield Family, 29 Daingerfield, Archie, 60 Daingerfield, Capt. John E.P., 60 Daingerfield, Elliott, 16, 41-42, 55, 60-66, 74, 95, 139 Daingerfield, Gwendolyn, 61, 63-64 Daingerfield, Marjorie, 55, 61, 63-65 Daingerfield, Mathilda Wickham, DeBraa, 60 Daingerfield, Mrs. Elliott (Anna), 61-64 Daingerfield, Mrs. Elliott (Roberta) 60-61 Daniels, Josephus, 67, 96 Daniels, Jr., Mrs. Josephus, 96 Daniels, Judge &. Mrs. Frank, 96 Daniels, Mrs. Josephus, 96 Davant, Jr., Dr. Charles, 119423, 152455 Davant, Jr., Mrs. Charles (Harriet), 152 Davidson, Dr. Chalmers, 53, 55, 96 Davidson, Mrs. Zeb Vance (Kate Gaston), 96 Davidson, Zeb Vance, 96 Davis, Agnes, 163 Davis, Elsie, 163 Davis, George, 89 Deal, Mr., 166 DeLouche, Benjamin, 163 Dougherty, Blanford Barnard, 110, 113, 116, 161 Doughton, Rep. Robert (Farmer Bob), 70, 78 Dowdey, Clifford, 117 Downs, Charles, 44 Drentine, Howard, 39 Driscoll, Charles B., 117 Dugger, Shepherd M., 35 Duke, J.P., 74 Dula, Clyde, 173 Dunn, Rev. Dr. R.A., 179 DuPont Family, 73 DuPont Major, 44 �Page 222/A Graver, Dr. Gwinn, Miss, 19 Gwyn, Hugh, 97 Gwyn, Rufus, 36 J.A., 139 Edmisten, Mrs. John, 139 Ross, 44 Edmondson Family, 16 Edwards, Col. Ogden, 16, 41 Mrs. Ogden, 16, 18 Dwight, 78 Elrod, Ronald, 184 Family, 2, 53, 54 L.W. "Len" 4, 53, 89 Estes, Lot, 2, 53 Mrs. Lot (Chancy Greene), 53 Faulkner, William, 71 Felix, Douglas, 172 Fenner, Anna Baker, 151 J.G., 89, 91, 95 Firestone, Raymond, 73 61 G.N., 91 Ford, Forsyth, Mrs. Anne Cannon, 65, 121, 153 30, 57 Fox, Jr., John, -110 French, Judge Robert Strange, 60 French, May 63 151 94, 97 Gage, Judge George W., 41, 56 Galloway, Family, Gaston, 98 Garrison, Billy, 58 Garrison, Lee, 58 Garrison, 58 W.B., 58 Gilbert, Annie, 72 Golden, Harry, 71 Goldwater, Barry, 78 Goodin, Gail, 151 Goodwin, John, 174 Gore, R.H., 136 Gortner, Mrs. W.A. 77 Cover, Gertrude, 163 Gragg, John Walt, 41 Gragg, Lula, 139 W.R., 33 Graham, Billy, 181 Kaye, 61 Granville, Earl, 1 Gray, Col R, 89, 91, 96, 164 Green, Stanley, 98 2, 53, 98, 109, 127, 177 Greene, Amos, 2, 4, 89 Annie, 38 Greene, Benjamin, 2, 53 Greene, Chancy, 2 Greene, Clarence, 39 Greene, Claud, 39 Greene, David, 123 Greene, Donald, 39 Greene, 2 Greene, Emma, 139 2 Greene, Joseph, 2 Greene, Mr. and Mrs. J.E., 139 Greene, Mrs. 38 Greene, N.C., 96 Greene, Paul, 38 Greene, Richard, 127 Greene, Robert, 31 Greene, Spencer, 39 Gregg, Mrs. 167 Osgood, 117 H Hall, John 20 Hamrick, Jr., Rush, 104 Earl, 99 Paul, 137 Harper, G.WE, 9 Harper, George Washington Finley, 91, 97 Harper, 2 Harper, James C., 2, 9 Harper, Jr., Gwyn, 96, 132 9, 92 Harper, Miss, 19 Harper, Mr., 19 Harper, Mrs., 19 Harper, S.F., 9 Harper, Sr., EG., 170 Harris, 153 Joe, 181 Hayes, Family, 2 38 H.C, 29-31, 43 Hayes, J. Lee, 63 Mrs, Cannon), 71-73 Hayes, Sheriff, 12 Hayworth, E., 77, 104 9, 166 C.V., 27, 40, 98 Jr., C.V., 170 LR, 27, 40 Henley Family, 109 Hewie, Governor Clyde, 72 Hill, 150 Hill, Mrs. James, 148 Hodges, Gov. Luther M., 183, 184 J.M., 139 139 Hodgkins, Mr. Mrs. T.E., 176 Hollars, 75 Hollo way, Mr., 44 Holshouser Family, 5 Holshouser, Holshouser, Holshouser, Holshouser, Holshouser, 141 Howard P., 27, 29, 31, 154 James, 141 Jane, 28 Lunce, 17 Malcolm, 44 Mrs. W.L., 38 Holshouser, W.L "Will", 17, 39, 45 Holt Family, 56 Ed, 92 Hoover, Herbert, 99 Bob, 181 Horner, J.M., 56 Horton, Ralph, 136 Family, 18 Hunt, 76 Hutchison, Crete, 99 Hyler, Rev. 140 I Icenhour, Louise, 38 Ickes, 161, 172 Ildefonse, Father, 136 Ingle, Mary A., 141 Ingle, Rev. John, 128, 140 Ingle, Thorton, 11, 43 Inness, George, 60 2 Ivey, J.B., 162 J 111412 Jenkins, B.K., 39 Jenkins, L.L., 166 Johnson, Carrie R, 154 Johnson, David, 169 Johnson, Lillian, 38 Johnson, Mary, 169 Johnson, May, 169 Jones, Chris, 58 Jones, Frank, 164 Jones, Freta Anne, 58 Jones, Mr. and Mrs. Hubert, 58 58 ' K ST., 7 Kent, Sir Edward, 74 Kenworthy, Dr., 89 Dr. and Mrs. AJP., 173, 175476 Kephart, Horace, 127 Lt. Wm. Perry, 173 Ken-, 89 Mrs. W.K., 173 Keys, Rev. K., 133, 162, King, John, 89, 96 King, Mrs. John, 90 Kipp, Fred, Kirk, Col. George, 3 Klutz, Jacob, Paul, 31, 44 Krasovic, Tony, 186 Lachmann, Dr. Vera, 176478 Lamour, Dorothy, 167 186 Lazaron, Dr. Morris, 138, 140 Lee, General Robert E., 60 Lenoir, William A., 66 Lentz, G., 39 Lentz, John, 114 Lentz, Mary L., 141 Lentz, Mrs. Exie, 139 Lentz, Mrs. S.R., 141 Lentz, 39 Linney, Frank A,, 32 Linney, Romulus Zacharia, 35-36 Long, 20 Ludlow, Dr. Jacob Lot, 134 Ludlow, Myra, 134 Lupton, J.T., 57 M J., 182 MacKay, Mrs. William, 60 MacRae Family, 36 Donald, 7 MacRae, Hugh, 7, 36, 179, 181 Martin Family, 4 H.C, 11, 1445, 27, 93-94 Martin, Maye B., 66 Mrs. H.C. 91, Mrs. Hal, 172 Martin, William J,, 131 120 Joseph, 163 Mays, Fred, 39 McDonald, 181 120 McKinnon, Mrs., 19 McLean, Professor, 19 T. 183 Mebane, Jr., Mrs. Robert (Frances), 73 Mebane, Jr., S., 73 Mrs. S. 31, 73-75, 170 Mebane, Randy, 73 • �A Mrs. S. 31, 73-75, 170 Randy, 73 Mebane, Robert Sloane, 73*75 A.E., 95 Michaux, Andre, 179 Mildred the Bear, Miller Family, 2, 5 Miller, Charles, 177478 : H.E, 14 32 111 99, 117 Moak, CA, 172 Moody, A.C., 160 Moore, Governor, 72 Dr. 34, Morley, W., 42 4 Morris, 167 Morris, M., 4, 10, 31, 89, 91, 131 Morrison, Govenor Cameron, 74, 104, 147 Morton, Hugh, 36, 179481 Morton, Julian W., 179 Mrs. Julian W. 179, 181 163 175 Murfree, Mary Noailles, 110 N Neal, Margaret Tufts, 163 Newnham, Fred, 43 Nixon, Richard, 78 Norwell, Etta Gregorie, 90 Norwood, Joseph C., 66 O O'Neal, Marie Jean, 19 Oakley, Annie, 73, 104 Olds, Fred, 31 65, 73, 131432, 151453, J.A., 31 Panuch, J. Anthony, 151, 153 Parker, Duncan T, 54 A.W., 91 Dr. Calvin J., 17, 27, 146, 149 • John, 181 150 Patterson, Rufus L., 40 Rev. J.M., 130 Pearson, Maury, 163 Pekon, H.W., 99 Walter, 44 Fred, 173 Mrs. W.R, Mrs. Artie, 139 Dr., 149 Pfister, Mr., 61 Phillips, Bishop Henry, 151, 153 Phillips, M.S., 167 Pinchot, Gifford, 67 Pitts, Ed, 39 Pitts, Mrs. 137 Pitts, Rev. 137 Pope, Charley, 20 Presswood, Ivfc, 93 Prevette, C.S., 160 Price, Joseph, J., 68 Price, Julian, 68-70, 75 70 Mrs, J. 68 70 31 Proffitt, Frank, 34 Prudden, Emily C, 16, 110412, 123,' 128 Q Queen Elizabeth II, 64 E Ms., 19 Raft, George, 167 Rainey, Jack, 173 Randall, W.C., 43 Ransom, Esther, 137 Ransom, Senator Matt, 4 78 Dr. C, Lena, 43, 145, 172 Reeves, Mrs. Letcher C Council!), 145 Reeves, Ruth, 145 Reid, Rebecca, 91 Ed, 16, 30, 130, 137, 140, 146 GX, 160 43 Jr., 185, 187 C, 173, 187 Robbins, Lloyd, 172, 186 Robbins, Mrs. Ed (Sophronia "Granny"), 146, 154 Sr., Grover C, 30, 32, 43, 77, 93, 131, 152, 169, 171, 173474 Robbins, Sr., Mrs. Grover (Lena Miller), 31, 38 Jr., AX, 164 Robinson, 28 Rockefeller, John D., 167 Jr., John D, 99 Rollins, Maj. WW1, 3 Roosevelt, Eleanor, 99 Roosevelt, Franklin, 160-161 Theodore, 54, 139 Ross, L, 39 Dr. 141 Rumple, Miss, 19 Rumple, Rev. Dr. Jethro, 16, 89, 170 Walter, 60 Rev. 17, 37, 42-45, Bob, 175 Schenck, Maj. Henry Franklin, 16, 89 Schenck, Sr., John E, 4, 16 Seitz, Rev. Thomas, 139 Sharp, Jack R, 178479 Shelton, Thomas, 75 WW. 4, 89 Sr., Abel A., 141 Sr., Mr. and Mrs. L., 141 Shuford, 28 Simmeril, Bill, 92 Sims, Hamp, 69 Smith, Arthur, 180 Smith, 166 Smith, Captain Harvey, 53 Smith, Ed, 136 Smith, 180 Snyder, Christine, 58 Snyder, Elizabeth 58 Snyder, George, 58 Snyder, George William, 57 Snyder, 58 131, 170 Snyder, Jr., 58 Snyder, Luke, 58 Snyder, Luther, 58 Snyder, Martha Woodward, 57 Snyder, Mr, &. Mrs. George, 58 » Mrs. L. (Alfreta), 57-59 * Mrs. L. (Mrs. WC. 59 58 Snyder, Virginia, 58 Sommer, Prof. Mrs. Clemens, 176 Span, Fred, 177 223 Spangenberg, August Gottlieb, 1 Spence, Professor H.E., 134435, 138 Steele, Robert, 76 Stevenson, Governor Adelai, 72 Mrs. Broyhill, 77-78 Mrs. M., 91, 128, 131 Stoneman, Gen. George, 3 Storie Family, 2 Storie, James, 120 Story, Grayson, 39 Story, Mrs. I.E., 38. Stowe, 19 18, 29, 41-42, 54-55 Dr. 54-55 Stringfellow, Mrs. Green), 54 Stringfellow, Mrs. Hemphill, 96 Stringfellow, Mrs. Wm. (Nan Cannon), 94 Stringfellow, Mrs. Wm. (Susie Parker), 18, 38, 43, 54-56, 139 W, 4,18, 44, 54-57, 62, 64, 139 Herbert, 94 Stuart, Jeb, 153 Bull, 69 M., 17, 27, 34, 37, 42, 44, 93, 169 Sudderth, Jim, 16 Sullivan, Ed, 127 Dorothy Henkel, 72-75, 92, 104 Lloyd, 104 11 •Sylvia, Vickie, T Taft, Bob, 78 Tate, Lloyd, 93, 164 Taylor, Mr., 166 167 Claude, 44 Teague, Hal, 167 league, Mrs., 38 Teague, Russell, 44 Tester, G.E., 160 Bill, LW, 41 J.W., 110, 139 Thomason, 140-141 Thurman, Miss, 166 Todd, Captain J.W., 92 Trexler, D.F., 141 Trexler, Mary, 141 Tufts, Rev. 132, 162 U Ulric, Lenore, 164 Umstead, R, 180 Vance, Governor Zeb, 53 132, Vance, Rev. Dr. L, 132, 147, 163, 179 132 Vannoy, Letcher, 44 Vardell Family, 73 Vardell, Rev. Dr. Charles G, 163, 179 Ruth, 94, 97 W Miss, 19 138 Mrs. W.H., Hank, 39 44 Dr. Mary Jesse, 141 Mr., 93 138 154, 172 �Page 224/A Watts, Mr., 93 Weaver, A.G.-, 170 Webb, Pearle, 38 Webster, Frank W, 172473 Weedon Family, 4 Weedon, H.W, 11, 15, 27, 32 Weems, Sam, 70 Westmoreland, Gen., 175 Wheatley, Miss, 166 Wherry, Ken, 78 Whitener, Dr. W.G., 120 Whiting, William S., 69 Whitney, Jock, 73 Wiliams, Col. L.S., 91, 95 Williams, Gratis, 109 Williams, Jim, 94 Williams, Mary Louise, 38 Williams, Mr., 93 Williams, Taylor, 97 Williams, Willie, 97 Wilson, Mrs. Woodrow, 72, 171 Winkler, J.A., 154 Winkler, J.H., 45 Winkler, W.L., 175 Wolfe, Thomas, 177 Wood, Alice, 17, 37, 93 Wood, Dale, 69 Wood, Harold, 69 Wood, Leroy, 69 Wood, Mrs. Leroy (Rosie), 69 Woodward, Miss, 19 Wooten, D.W, 32 Wrag, John A., 68 (Subject) Accreditation, 121 Aho School, 119 Allied Church League, 130 American Legion Building, 173 American Legion Post 256, 173 Annexation, 117419 Appalachian Forest Reserve, 35-36 Appalachian High School, 122 Appalachian Motel, Map #55 Appalachian Ski Mountain, 187 Appalachian State Teacher's College, 110 Appalachian State University, 76, 78, 110, 161, 186 Appalachian Training School, 76, 116 Apple Orchards, Cone Estate, 67 Ash Bear Pen Knob, 69 Auto Transfer Co., 28 Automobiles, 28-29 B Baby Clinic, 149450 Bank Closings, 160 Bank of Blowing Rock, 27, 146, 160 Banner Elk Presbyterian Church, 132 Baptist Church, 16, 37, 45 Baptists, 127428 Bark, The, 166, Map #57 Barked Inn, The, 172 Battery E, 113th Field Artillery, 44 Beaver Dam, 34-35 Beech Mountain, 187 Bellview Cottage, 91 Bernhardt Business Interests, 7 Berriman's Drug Store Map #29 Bethel High School, 122 Betterment Society, 92 Bird Sanctuaries, 147 Black Churches, 130431 Black Community, 59, 72, 130431 Black Population, 20, 45 Black Teachers, 110, 116 Blowing Rock Art Association, 65 Blowing Rock Art Show, 64-65 Blowing Rock Assembly Grounds, 18, 140-141 Blowing Rock Bank, 17, 30, Map #24 Blowing Rock Boy Scouts, 55 Blowing Rock Charity Horse Show, 19, 38, 59, 63, 72, 97, 104, 135, 165466 Blowing Rock Civic Improvement league, 55 Blowing Rock Clinic, 150452 Blowing Rock Colored Church Project, 131 Blowing Rock Comm &L Sch Library, 38 Blowing Rock Community Carnival, 59 Blowing Rock Community Center, 59-60 Blowing Rock Country Club, 41, 60, 67, 72, 75, 151, 170472 Blowing Rock Development Co., 40, 93-94, 104 Blowing Rock Elementary School, 121, 123 Blowing Rock Episcopal Church, 55, 128 Blowing Rock Exchange, 43, 55 Map #39 Blowing Rock Flower Show, 59 Blowing Rock Garden Club, 178 Blowing Rock Golf Course, 78, 94 Blowing Rock High School, 117, 120422, Map #12 Blowing Rock Hospital, 152 Blowing Rock Hotel, 3, 7, 10, 1649, 89-92, 94-97, 164, 166, Map #1 Blowing Rock Hotel Livery Stables, 16 Blowing Rock Ice House, Map #23 Blowing Rock Masonic Lodge 458, 36-37 Blowing Rock Medical Clinic, 155456, 162, 187 Blowing Rock Methodist Church, 59, 138 Blowing Rock Negro Community Church, 131, Map #83 Blowing Rock Park, 173 Blowing Rock Rotary Club, 152, 178 Blowing Rock School, 114, 119, 149 Blowing Rock School Betterment Assn., 55 Blowing Rock School of English, 117 Blowing Rock Ski Corporation, 187 Blowing Rock Ski Lodge, 185-187 Blowing Rock Ski Slopes, 185-187 Blowing Rock Village School District, 114, 116 Blowing Rock, The, 9, 100401, 159460, Map #48 Blue Ridge, 36 Blue Ridge Parkway, 70, 161462, 171 Boarding Houses, 94-96 Bond Issues, 29-30, 173 Bond Referendum, 122 Boone Fork Institute, 38 Boone Fork River, 69 Boone Fork School, 119 Boone Fork Trail, 70 Boone-Blowing Rock Turnpike, 28, 30 Bootblacks (Gryder's Shoe Shop) Map #36 Boxwood Motel, 38 Boy Scouts, 38, 60, 160, 173 Boyden House, 2 Brady Boarding House 90, 44-95 Bridal Veil Falls, 28 Broyhill Business Interests, 7 Broyhill Chapel, 140 Broyhill Home (J.E.) Map #88 Building Codes, 30 Bundles for Britain, 172 Bus Service, 28-29 Buxton Road, Map #56 Caldwell &L Watauga Turnpike, 27 Calvinism, 127 Camp Catawba, 177-178, Map #75 Camp Cherokee, 176 Camp Fire Girls, 38 Camp Life, 175-179 Camp Sky Ranch, 135, 178479, Map #76 Camp Yonahlossee, 173, 175477, Map #74 Camp-Meeting, 127 Campfire Girls, 55 Cannon Home fl.W), Map #58 Cannon Memorial Hospital, Chas. A., 72 Cannon Mills, 70-71 Cannon Textile Industry, 134 Carolina &. Northwestern Railroad, 9, 183 Carolina Mountains, 42 Carolina Theatre, 167 Carter Memorial Library, Mary Nelson, 37 Cathcart's Cottage, 9 Catholic Community, 136 Catholics, 127 Census, 3, 11, 13, 20-21, 160, 172 Chamber of Commerce, 27, 60, 160, 171473, 177 Chamber of Commerce Office, First, Map #32 Charlotte Festival Singers, 163 Chateau Cloud Condominiums, 110 Chestnut Blight, 36 Chestnut Restaurant, 186 Chestnut Siding, 4 Chetola, 2, 4, 5, 18, 43, 53-60, 115, 139, Map #14 Child Evangelism Fellowship, 134 Children's Education, 18 China Orchard, Cone Estate, 67 Christian Science Church, 136, Map #89 Christian Science Community, 436 Christian Science Reading Room, 136 Christian Scientists, 138 Church of God, 137, Map #65 Church of the Epiphany, 136, Map #66 Church of the Holy Spirit, 55, 138, Map #10 Church, First, 140 Cicero Miller's Store, 96 Circuit-Riding Preachers, 128 Civic Groups and Clubs, 36-38 Civil Rights Movement, 130-131 Civil War, 3, 11, 89, 109 Civilian Conservation Corps., 36 Clark Prize, 139 Clarke Home Site 0oseph), Map #37 Clarke Property, Joseph, 17 Cleveland Cotton Mills, 16 Cloudland Cafe (J.C Ford), 159, Map #60 Coca-Cola, 57-59 Coffey Hotel, 29 Coffey's Barber Shop (Henry), 17 Coffey's Grocery (D.P.), Map #59 Coffey's Mercantile Company, 17 Committee to Save Grandfather, 36 Community Club, 31, 37-38, 59-60, 72, 134 Cone Estate, Moses H., 18, 20, 38, 43, 58, 66-68, 70, 93, 118, 132, 137, 161,. 178, Map #70 Cone Hill, 9 Cone Lake, 2 Cone Memorial Hospital, Moses H., 67-68 Cone Memorial Park, Moses H., 67-68 Confederate Veterans Association, 91 Consolidation of Schools, 121-123 Cook's Place, 9 Cool Springs School, 110, 114, 119. Cordon's Home, 16 Cottagers, 4, 5, 1648, 38,41, 93, 164, 167, 169470, 174 Cotton Mill, 2 Council's Store, 2 County Teachers' Institute, 116 Cove Creek High School, 122 Craig's Grocery Store, 17, 46, 73,92-93, 146, Map #11 Cranberry Coal &L Iron Co., 170 Cranberry Iron Mines, 6 Curtis' Boarding House, 7 �A D Art School, 41-42 Daniel Boone Trail, 53 . ,. ; Davant Home (Dr. Charles, Jr.), Map #17 Hill (C.V. Map f 61 First, 12? . . . - ; . -.• Debating Society, 36-37 145 Early Education, 109-113 East Tenn. & No. Car. RR, 6, 100, 170, 183 Echo Park, 136 Ed's Cafe, 29 Edgar Tufts Memorial Association, 72-73 61, Map #18 Education System, Public, 113417 Electricity, 29, 92 Environmental habitat, 181 Episcopal Church, 17 Episcopal Church and Room, 17, 31, 36 Episcopal Church, New, 56 Episcopal Mission, 139 Episcopalians, 128 House, 18, 54, 94-95 Extended Care Center, Dr. C. Davant, 156 Fairview Hotel, 89, 90, 94 Family, First, 127 Far Horizons, (Anne Cnnon Forsyth), Map #82 House, 94 Farm House Singers, 136 Farmer's Alliance, 14 Farmers, 1345, 20 Fencing, 14-15 Film Premiere, 167468 Fire in the 50's, 27 Fire of 1923, 16, 31, 37 Fire (Old), Map #41 Fire Warden, 118 First Church, 130, 139440, Map #7 First Independent Baptist Church, 131 First Union Bank, 17 Flat Top Church, 110 Flat Top Manor House, 18, 66-67, 118 Flat Top Mountain, 66 Flat Top School, 110, 113 Flood of 1916, 29, 33, 43-44, 71 of 1940, 169, 183 Food Suplies, 5 Forest Fires, 34 Forest Preservation, 35-36 Forestry Laws, 35 Fort Rollins, 3 Fourth of July, 39 Fox Hunting, 164 Franciscan Fathers, 136 Freewill Church, 137 French-Swiss Ski College, 187 Furniture Industry, 7 Gathering of the Scottish Clans, 181-182 Giant Lumber Co., 32-33 Glen Falls, 100, Map #86 Globe 113 Globe Lumber Co., 32 Globe Telephone Co., 29 Golf, 78, 170 Bible Goodwin Guild Weavers, 174, Map #26 Grace Colony, 135 27, 94 Day, 151, 162463 Grandfather Home for Children, 72-73, 132-134, 162 3, 42, 70, 101, Grandfather Orphange, 162463 Grandin Lumber Company, 20,' 32-33, 44 Library, 1647, 37-38, 45 Library, First, 113, 145 First 128, 139 Linville Improvement Company, 6, 36, 179 Linville Land, Mfg., &. Mining Co., 6 Linville 180 Linville Railroad, 6 Literary Fund, 109 Livestock, 2, 13, 15 Local Tirade Routes, 2 Lone Scouts, 38 Lonesome Pine Trail, 72, 147 Lost Cove, 32 Lumber Camps, 32 Industry, 6-7, 20, 32-36, 44 Lutheran Church, 149 Lynn Nisbet Awards, 182 Great Smoky Mountains, 36 Great Smoky Mountain Nat'l Park, 161 Green Cottage, 117 Hill, Map #53 Park, 71-72, 91, 93, 127 Green Park ^Norwood Golf Course, 101, 170, 173, Map #45 Casino, 166 Green Park Company, 91 Green Park Hotel, 2, 7, 10, 1849, 27, 29, 40, 43-44, 64, 70-72, 78, 104, 117, 130, 151, Map #44 Park 19, Map #52 Green Park, Town of, 11, 19, 30, 43 Greerfs Store, 46 Property, Amos, 4 Greystone Towers (The Mebanes), 73-75, Map #80 Gurney Ridge trail, 72 Gypsies, 38 H Hack Line, 6 M Madonna of the Hills, 62, 139 Magic Mountain, 184 Mail, 28 1647, 30-31 Martin Cottage, 94 Martin Drug Store, 31 4, 16, 27, 117, Map #6 Masonic Lodge, 36-37 Masons, 37 Mayor, First, 11 Course, 104, 164 Gun and Rod Club, 73, 103, 114, Map #87 Mayview Lake, 77, Map #28 Mayview Plant, 169 31, 36, 70, 72-74, 77, 96, 136, 151, 162, 164, 172, Map #68 Mayview Park, 16, 29-30, 56, 63, 71-73, 134, Mayview Golf Course, Rock, 100 Mayview Water Works, 29 Medical Care After 1950, • General Store, 17 Harper Business Interests, 7 Harper Home (Major), 2-3, #63 4, 16, 89 General Store, 31, 92 Hayes House, 16, Map #31 : Laws, 147 Colony, 135 and Co., 6-7, 9, 16 Hetola, 58 182 Hob-Nob Tea Room, 96 Hog Wild, 2 13 Care 146-147 Care Between 1930-1950, 148-152 Men's Club, 3 6 - 3 7 - 1748, 28-29, 31, 46, Map . #2 Holshouser Home (W.L), Map #30 Horse Show Grounds, Lloyd M. late, 18, 141, Map #50 Hymn to Miramichi, 134 I Ice House, 5, 54 Incorporation, 10 Indians, 1, 59 164 J ' "'• J.L. Snyder Trophy, 59 Jail Map #41 Jefferson Standard Life Ins. Co., 68-70 Jenkins Realty Company, 16 John's River Gorge-, 101, 135 K Katty Klub, 38. Ku Klux 45 Law Enforcement League, 45, 130 72 Lenoir Chair Company, 77 Lenoir Furniture Company, 77 Lenoir-Blowing Rock Turnpike, 2, 6-7, 27, 30, 32, 34, 43, 98 Lentz Company Store, 16 Lentz School, 114 Lerada (Col. & Mrs. Ogden Edwards), #38 225 ' 20-21 Church, 16, 136, 138, -149, Map #9 Methodist Episcopal Church South, 138 . Metropolitan 132, 163 Fork School, 119 Mildred the Bear (See Individual/Family Index) General 16, &L Annie Cannon), 134-135, Map #81 Mission House, 113 Mission House & Reading Room, 37, 42 18, 37» 113, 145 Missionary Movement, 110413 Montaldo's, 151 Moody Furniture, Map #42 Moore House, 91 Morality, 44-46 Moravians, 1 Morris, House, 89 School 128 Morris, W.M., Store-House, 10 Morrison Home (Cameron), #90 18, 36, 113, Mount Cemetery, 111 Mount German Church, 2, 18, 127, 141, Map #49 Mount School, 18 Mountain Farms, 13 Moving Pictures, 39, 117, 167 • . ' Mulberry Valley, 9 . �Page 226/A N Park 36, 68, 70, 101, 137 Crafts, 43 Natives, 41-43, 164, 167 Nelson's 7 New River Power & Light, 169 New Inn, 96 Nickajack Trail, 1 North Carolina Sketches, 41, 113 North 175 Nowelfs Boarding House, 17 o Odd Fellows' Lodge, 36 Oh My! 94, Map #67 Old School, 114, Map #22 Ordinances, Town, 1143, 15, 30-32, 45 Outhouses, 5, 30 & Commission, 173 Peoples* Cabinet Shop, 16 31 Pineacres (David Ovens), 151, Map #51 Crest, 73 Pioneer 2 Pioneer Life, 2 Pitts' 16 Police, 31-32 Hollow School, 114, Map #78 Post 31 Post Office, Original, Map #40 Era, 89 Presbyterian Mission Church, 131 Presbyterians, 127-128 32, Map #73 Privy Inspection Committee, 30 1143, 32, 45, 130, 166 127 Pupil-Teacher Ratios, 119 R R&G Co., 174 Rabey's Drug Store, 17 Garden Inn, Map #16 6-9, 27, 170 Randall Memorial Building, 36-37 Memorial Craft Center, 139 Memorial Workshop, 43 Red Cross, 44, 55, 60, 173 17, 45-46, Map #3 House, 2, 17, 31, 146, Map #3 1900, 127429 Religious Life, 127-141 128, 130 Revolutionary War, 2 Rhododendron, Inn, 96 Rich Mountain, 66 Ritter Lumber Company, 6, 32 1-2, 6-7, 9, 27-32, 56, 92-94, 98, 100, 161, 172 (Ed), 16, Map #35 Robbins Home (Grover, C, St.), Map #27 184 Rumple Memorial Presbyterian Church, 16, 18, 44, 130434, 150451, 462463, 172, Map #13 S.A.L. 7 Sandy Flat School, 44, 113,- 116, Map #77 Flat Church, 137, 140 30, 93, Sawmill Orchard, Cone Estate, 67 Schenck House (Maj. Henry Franklin), 16, Map #43 Scholarships, 121 29, 116 School Law of 1839, 109 109 Seaboard Air Line, 7 System, 30 Shenandoah Park, 161 Shuford Building, 141 Map #64 Mill, 32, 33-35 Mill Plant, 169 30 Silver Lake, 4-5, 53-54 Lake 114, 116, Map #79 Sims Creek, 69 Place, 69 69 Singing on the Mountain, 181 Sir Cup, 64 House, 19 Inn, 172, Map #46 Skyland Institute, 11, 13, 16, 94, 110413, 123, 128, 130, 137, Map #47 Skyland School, 18 Slavery, 3 Smallpox Scare, 45 Smith's Store, 93 Life, 17-20, 38-39, 58-59, 63-64, 72-74, 166, 170471 Sonny's Grill, 17 Nat'l. Park, 36 Southern Bell, 29 Southern Railway, 33, 100 • Camp, 38 Spencer Home, 17 39 Spring Houses, 5 St. John's Valley, 9 St. Mary's of the Church, 61-62, 64-65, 138439, 178, Map #21 of Education, 120 Laws, 1445 Rock, 180 Storie's Carpet Shop, 16 Storie's Soda Shop, Map #25 43, 55 Stuart Boarding House, 90, 94 Subscription-Based Schools, 109 • Sullivan Grave (Ed), Map #54 Summer Home, First, 2 4-5, 38, 41, 164 Summerville (James Harper), 1 Sunday School, First, 113, 128 Inn, #15 Superintendent of Public Welfare, 117 Superintendent of Schools, 110, 116, 119420 P. Church, 56, 62 Suspension Bridge, Grandfather, 180 11 Tate Map #85 Tax Collection, 31-32 Taxation Without Representation, 117-119 Telephones, 29 Television, 174 Day Rally, 167 The Offering, 65 Third N. Carolina Mounted Infantry, 3 Tijuana Fats 16 Tin Top, 131, Map #62 • Toll 7 Tourism, 93, 159460, 167, 173 Tourist Economy, 13-14, 28 Tourist Information Center, 159 Tourists, First, 89 Cabin, 147 Town Hall Map #32 Town Hall (Old), Map #41 31-32 Town Park, 96 Trail of the Bear, 179 Transportation, 6-7 Trout Lake Dam, 43 Club, 38 Tweetsie Palace, 184 6, 169470, 183484, Map #71 Twinola, 58 U US 221, 7 Utilities, 29 V Valle Crucis Mission, 138 Valle Crucis Mission School, 128 Valley View Trail, 100 Vannoy 17 Visitors, Firs, Volunteer Fire Deprtment, 16, 31 W 1 153, Map #8 Ward House, 91 (Dr. Mary), Map #34 154, Map #20 Academy, 110, 113, 116, 161 116417, 119422 Watauga County Home, 55 Democratic Executive Comm,, 120 Watauga Gap, 3 Grill, 173 High 122 Hotel, 7, 10, 16, 18, 61, 95, 146, Map #4 Inn, 31, 92, 146, 159, 173, Map #4 Inn 95-96 Watauga Masonic Lodge 273, 37 Mission, 128, 140 & 5, 90, 92, 101 • Watts' Shoe Shop, 16 Weedon Home, 16 94 Weedon-Clarke Dispute, 15 5 Western North Carolina Railroad, 6 Westglow (Elliott Daingerfield), 62-64, Map #73 Co., 6, 20, 44 Whiting School, 119 34 Wildwood Nursery Company, 43 Daingerfield), 61-62," Map #19 Winters, 1 Women's Christian Temperance Union, 13 Women's Society, 140 Women's Suffrage, 37 Hotel, 94Trail, 100 Works Progress Administration, 117, 119 War I, 44-45 World War II, 114, 119, 172473 Yonahlossee Theatre, 131, 136, 151, Map #33 Trail, 7, 20, 30, 179 �ABOUT THE AUTHOR BARRY BUXTON has been a teacher; researcher, publisher, editor, and community leader with extensive international experience. He received his Ph.D. from the University of Nebraska. Currently Dr. Buxton serves as the president of Lees-McRae College. Prior to his tenure at Lees-McRae, he served as the Vice President of Special Projects at the Savannah College of Art and Design. Dr. Buxton has also served as president of various science and history museums in North Carolina, Texas, and Georgia. During the 19805, he served as Executive Director of the sixteen-member Appalachian Consortium Press. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource A Village Tapestry: The History of Blowing Rock Subject The topic of the resource Blowing Rock (N.C.)--History Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Buxton, Barry M. Language A language of the resource English Description An account of the resource This work is an interesting look at the history of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, a popular historic and tourist attraction, from its earliest settlers in the 1700s to the 1960s. The book includes images and a section titled "A Photographic Tapestry" with photographs of Blowing Rock by Jerry W. Burns. It also covers the history of great estates, prominent people, the education system, and religious heritage. <br /><br /><a title="Epub" href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1poibWSW5X1r6y9yyhpR7cqvEUub67IC3/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Download EPub</a><br /><br /><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469641324/a-village-tapestry" target="_blank">UNC Press Print on Demand</a> Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1989 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Blowing Rock (N.C.) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s Amerindian Blowing Rock history illustrated Moravian https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/7a87a5b474fea55e349c795c84cc36cf.pdf 3e9eb8cf13d3cdd8e5dc19413d8c5477 PDF Text Text ������������������������������������������������ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Blue Ridge Parkway: The First 50 Years Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Jolley, Harley E. Description An account of the resource This book is an overview of the Blue Ridge Parkway's first fifty years, with photographs by William Bake. Noted Blue Ridge Parkway Historian Harley E. Jolley wrote the descriptions and text.&nbsp;<br /><br /><a title="Epub" href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1o9yDa5gqH53IhPvsAlXiScEyUQ-EQCMR/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub</a> Subject The topic of the resource Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.)--History Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.)--Pictorial works Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1985 Language A language of the resource English Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s Architecture Blue Ridge Parkway historical commentary history photographs https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/729020ace02698d7b4d0998f42715399.pdf e775a29003ab3ace964976be3a0851e9 PDF Text Text ��������� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publications Description An account of the resource This collection contains digitized monographs and collections from the Appalachian Consortium Press. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Appalachian Consortium Press Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Date Issued Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource. June 1, 2017 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource <a title="Digital Scholarship and Initiatives" href="http://library.appstate.edu/services/digital-scholarship-and-initiatives" target="_blank">Digital Scholarship and Initiatives</a> Publication Digital Publisher Digital Republication Appalachian State University Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Life in the Stage Coach Days at Historic Sherrill's Inn Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource McClure, Elizabeth Cramer Blackmun, Ora Description An account of the resource This is a section from a larger work titled "Western North Carolina to 1880: Its Mountains and Its People." This part focuses on paintings by Elizabeth Cramer McClure that hang on the walls of a room in the original Historic Sherrill's Inn in Fairview, North Carolina. The inn, near Hickory Nut Gap, was a way-station for travelers during the 19th century and early 20th century. Present day, the inn was restored as a private home by Mr. and Mrs. G.K. McClure. <br /><br /><a title="Epub" href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/112EitRIiSlFhrnLePdv8AcMNbvIbq1Cx/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub</a> Subject The topic of the resource Art--North Carolina, Western Art--Appalachian Region, Southern Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Appalachian Consortium Press Language A language of the resource English Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant ||||osm Fairview (N.C.) Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF E-books Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed" target="_blank" rel="noopener">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed</a> Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. https://www.geonames.org/4465705/fairview.html Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a> Art history murals Native American photgraphs Sherril's Inn https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/5fc4355be6ac99be7fd7b07f5a2e7836.pdf e12dfa6a75032f9511cc611e17da3966 PDF Text Text ~ ~ (/._'.)-) I _,..,'} L~'~ .... . ! . .. 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Title A name given to the resource Leo Finkelstein Papers Description An account of the resource This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "I Remember When" by Leo Finkelstein Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 107_03_03_IRememberWhen_M Description An account of the resource Leo Finkelstein's handwritten account of his memories, including those of his involvement with the Lion's Club. Subject The topic of the resource Lions Club (Asheville, N.C.) Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a title=" In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable" href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-RUU/1.0//" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable </a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title=" Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/27" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Extent The size or duration of the resource. 23 pages Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. https://www.geonames.org/4453066/asheville.html 1930 Havana history Lions Club memory remember World War II https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/9243e75c151f64b6e6cf68d1eb9574e3.pdf 15f60274a5a82ac23eb0238ec0836577 PDF Text Text I L.. (0 N5 (?oR~ ~u w·r ' c:r B r f+ts t'&J p,' <~ 't=<t:: 1'~ R...,-s --~~~LIONS ROAR EDITORS Shelby E. Hor t on Ed i tor I n Chief Ed Shur ts Powe ll Ball Bil l Anderson --- - THE WEEKLY BULLETIN OF THE LIONS CLUB ~----- I �LION PP LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS again regaled us--as only Leo can--with a few mome n ts of fun and frolic as · expressed by him in Lionism and in War. Today Lion Leo shared with us a mQ st interesting episode of his personally command~ering most of a truck load of beer. Some of this beer got accidentially broken. But if , memory serves Ye Ed correctly, Leo managed somehow to make short of the contents remaining in a number of \ bottles. Wheth er Lion L eo was "all" or not he managed to ).have the pt•ovet•bia l "go od time". 1 - ---- Lion PP Leo continued his historical reports on nutrition. He t·eminded us how the tr·oops were fed dehydt·ated food dm·ing WWI I. The pancake s, potatoes, eggs, nilk, lemonade, etc., fooled no one. It si mply kept the troops lean and mean. Lion Leo is still developing dehydrated whiskey. BY WAY OF BUSINESS : 1. Please pick b a d< up on your Hysterical Moment s , Lion Leo . 2. The Club v uted to meet bi-weel<ly af ter next wee k' s meeting. We all received notes o f th an ks and appreciation fro m our wonderful ~ait~es s , wh o m we all know as Elsie, who expresses l ove for al l and that she will miss us e ve t·yone . · ted primaril y of Li~n ~eo's HY,s,t':t'i7,a~n:o~::t~e~:~~~~~atio!"'s among the a descrlptlon _of ~otkY d ·ttin the confines of one of American soldlers encampe Wlhl ·d for Lion Leo to the Pacific Isl an~ s . It was hat. sembled a pig about as . e t·-tantly wagged hi s 11 ti 1 e e . ·,; desct'l b e "P ot•ky" lnasmuch as t did a d o g · but h e co n ~ L '"'-'ch as le . d'l l'ttle clown. Appat·ently, eo 1 · Y d c l1 meant a lot to eac tl t al 1 a nd wa s a ft' l. en and he we re g reat pals an ea lt~ "\.~he:_:r . - - - - - - - - - - - : : - - - · o~ ~ ~ - 4 . Mom ents , pp Leo reminded us During his weekly · Hysterlca 1 • Joe Sternberg as a fun d· . talset, · that on one o~c~~lo~ ~~:"club a couple of circus performances. engaged on be a ~ . a s•lbstant ial feed bill and T~e circus be~a~=l~n:~b:~= ~~:b, b~iled it out be keeping a Llon Joe, on e_ ts as collatera l. The Club recouped some couple of elephan . 1 d f elephant manure to some local of its money by sell1ng oa s o fat•met·s. Nevet• a d•Jll moment~ _ .... r"'-'_ ... . - - - - - - - -- · Lion pp Leo read a not her page from WWII. He had received a Cht• i stmas pt•esent shipped in a co n tainer mat•ked "eggs", champagne and ~can of beans~ He stored the beans in his gas mask and did not open them until the next inspection. He was amazed to find a 2 oun c e bottle of whiskey instead of beans. Con c l~sion - ope n you Chr i stmas p r esents on time. �,.. Our Historian, Lion Leo Finkelstein , gave another of his highly am u sing reports from the Pacific Theatre in World War II; It seems that some of his buddies and he on one occasion in particular experienced a rather serious air attack. Immediately I I thereafter, one earned the name Starvin Marvi n and our own pocket pianist became known as " Leo the Hero" what time he wasn't called Foxhole Finkelstein. Without a doubt, foxholes were handy things to be in with the Japs dropping bombs all over the place . I .I · .·!" .• After which , Lion Leo Fi nklestein furnished us with another of his hilarious reports from WWII. It sccmG th~t Cpl . Finklcstcin and a couple of scr 6~ants were dispatched across the airbase to deliver a bomber to another section of the field. Cpl. Finklestein was ordered to sign a receipt for over a million dollars worth of aircraft ; then while apparently he was at the controls, Sgt . hooked a cle-trac to the nose of the airplane and. delivered it to the nearest refueling stop where Cpl. Finkelstein ordered "fill er up" and i t took 3,000 gallons of high octane avi ation fuel for that purpose. Lion PP Leo was grateful that he and the sergeants wer e not required to pay for that load of gasoline out of their own. pockets. Thanks Leo, for the memories. CLUB HISTORIAN: I I Lion Leo gave another funny report of some of his exploits in the South Pacific during World War II--this time in poetry--and as usual, he brought the house VD WN Historian Report by Lion L~oa Turtle racing was held in check :n Asheville, NC years ago. Lion Leo and the Lians Club voted not to sponsor a tut't 1 a race nor buy an ad in the newspaper. Lion Leo said that he saw nothing wrong with pl•ying solitaire in ones ho•e but, public turtle racin~, never. Li on Leo gave us a reading from h i s letters from the great war ti the home front. It has be en brough t to our attention from his reading t hat one never let Lion Leo help with your laundry at home . Ci ty Saniation 'could l e arn a lot from Lio n Leo's understanding of Gar-Bage removal might save our land fill? Hist o rian Re po rt gi v e n by Lion Leu t o br i ng u s up t o d a t e on WWI I , gav e us a r e po rt o n hi s g a inin g a pr ize g 1 ·eatc r than any mi l itary a wa rd-a r ea l ma ttress ( Na val Is s ue ) no t a dr e a m as Lion Leo sa id,in 1943 a ma t tre ss mea nt yo u had r each e d t he t op ! L «:.on l. e u th i S l<•: vc : 1 r:. l-< •-. -ve '· " " • '-' "· •J ~, •.~e\1, on t h t> Hep (·,· ·t: , H t s·l· .;,• Jr,1 L e d ge o f O l.lt' seats vn t h �~ Lion Leo gave us today's Historian Report . Lion Leo says that it is possible to take a ba~h out of a helmet but it i s ~nwise to try and sit in the helmet to do so. L1on Leo described to us the proper procedure involved in bathing ou t of a helmet and gave us a very good idea th at we don 't want to be without our bath tubs again. I f we are , thanks t o Lion Leo we will not b~ caught dirty-handed. Lion Leo r ead to us on his thoughts of World War II - he feels that wh e n people are bonded together by a force of arms and dange r is near - that no matter what walk of life you come from - nor your beliefs - you become one when a common danger confronts the group and each person can take strength from th is bond . A very good and t rue story Lion Leo - in war and in life . Lion Leo gave us a outline of how t o be King of a South Seas Island to be a king maker. and how it feels - r- If you think that you are pay1 "ng too m ucl1 f or Ice Cream, see Lion Leo. He can get the price down, PLUS he can get you a tax deduc tion. Lion Leo, I like strawberry. Ntli ••rta.nr •• a;om._.~. - ~- _ • · -- -·· .. ............,..... _, 4:1o'~ - , ""\T~,. ~.., ....,. p"A r!oJ,P~0'\.. 4'......_ ~ Li on Leo gave us a History report on his pet Lizard of the 1940's and some somber thought s on the real ity ' s of war . (),,,_ .... _",.. _''"" ,, .... ,.. ... : .... . _ . . .. - ···· ·~ - Lion Leo amused us with several historical le tter s out of the Past (WWI I ) concerning "Furlough Home':' and "Gas Masks". Reminders of several important meetings : Li on Leo gave his letters to the home front--seems Lion Leo became very tci~se to his helmet during those years overseas . To*ard the close of Lion Greer ' & remarks, Lion Leo arose to his feet and annJ~nced th at in the early days of the Depression, he was tipped off that many of the b3nks in Asheville would fail and t hat any fun1s that he had i n the Am:rican National bank should be removed in the form of cash . 1nis immediat e l y prior to his leaving As~eville to attend a funeral in Florida . Lion Leo told his secretary to go down to the bank and withdraw all of the fun1s that he had on deposit and stash them away in the company safe . When he re't urned from Flo rida, he found out that the American National Bank had indeed faile d and he asked his secretary if she had withdrawn the funds and put the~ in t he safe . She stated " I certainly did and they are no* in the safe in the form of a Cashier ' s Check. " --·-------- Lion Leo gave a n other interesting report of his exper iences during his WW2 ordeal!! -I �-~~~LIONS \ R<)AR ....__ --- ~ ~-- . Shelby E. Ho rt on :':d.itor In Chief Dick Davis J.O . McCollum Bruce Hunter &"ltecril~, crz.e. THE WEEKLY BULLETIN OF THE LIONS CLUB TODAY'S PROGRAM: Ou r Historian Lion Leo Finkelstein filled us in on the time when the Club royally entertained North Carolina's then Governor and his daughter. was dating a girl na~ed Lion Leo (before he met Sylvia ) Pearl and wanted to bring her to the wingding; but he had orders to sit be s ide and keep the Governor's daught:er happy. This ta~i<. We~ ::su uu.cl n ~ LhCiL Lht: wiuut.e tltt: banquet was over he left the Governor's daughter and immediate l y returned to Pearl. A nice sidelight to history, Leo . Historical Report by Lion Leo works out to this- In Jail call Lion Leo and tell him you can be his caddie. Not only will you get out of jail, but you will let Lion Leo win a $1,000 . 00. ~I A historian report was given by o ur lion Leo and once again we were on the High Seas as Lion leo and Lion Miller were improving re l ations with Cuba certain Boat Capt iams-also Lion Leo seems to be involved in the legal course of due Justic e in the city of Miami, Fla . Leo gave a historian report. It was about Judge Ca the y or Leo ' s Caddy . If you missed it ask Leo to te l l you about it . (I did not \Hite "Lion Leo ", doesn't Leo mean Lion)? Lion Leo gave a entertaining an d humorous re port on his Arm y experiences during World War II. Oh, what memorie s this resentation brought back to those who served our country in ot•ld Wat' II. Unfot·tunaltel for those not present, your ditor wa s laughing so much he failed to take notes . If you is s ed it , wh y not join us each Wednesday for fun and llowship . �Lion Leos Historical report today was another letter to the home front. Lion · Leo wrote that with a can of Salmon and 109 % alcohol and a friend who lives in Alaska, you can sell stock in the Finkels~ein mining and dreaming club. How many . shares did you sell Lion Leo? J\ . . I In addition to getting to hea~ ·the wonderful songs as played by the trio, we ~e:e regaled again by Lion Leo's rem1n1scences of GI ·days in the South Paclflc. If only all wars contained so much humor a~d camaraderie! See You Next Week. S.E.H. ' . . Lion Leo Finkelstein gave us his weekly Historical Report , this week from Guadalcanal 50 years ago. He described the Southside Social Society Club with details of it's. < construction, roof to floor and wh"at went within. I -. . .. I - . Lion Leo gave us some WWII farming tips. He said to know the farmers daughter and you w~ll know the crop(s). Lion Leo, we really look forward to hearing your wonderfully entertaining stories every week. Have you ever thought of having them published? I know I would love to have a copy. The program closed with Lion Leo entertaining us in his inimitabl~ fashion with mere stories about the South Pacific during World War II. Needless to say, Lion Leo kept us in stitches; but we all had sobering thoughts when he quoted from a letter that he had written "Dear Mom . " Particularly touching were the thoughts that he expressed by way of appreciation for her as parent, cook, nurse, housekeeper and teacher. Brings back memories, doesn't it? See you next week and the weeks after. HAPPY NEW YEAR! S. E. H. Histori•n report was given by Lion PP Leo, who also was the social director of Club Pacific Ocean, : WW II was to help stop boredo• in Tisho•indo, OLK. --·--..::----_, Historian report: As given by Lion PP Leo Fjnkelstein regarding WW2 was well presented with several humorous statements. - �Page 2 ·- The Lion's Roar January 30, 1991 . Lion Leo gave his historian report-Date Line Salt Lake City-Duty on the Home Front! Seems soldier Leo, of the U. S. Army Air Corp . had time to pick up a pass-time to wait on bus(s)- MP's and then to dance the nice away with soft drink and t he ccmpany of a member of the Officers Corp. to escort the young .Lady hoote. Going to a pl ace called "Bunnies" finding .Bunnie alonehelp her close the place down-putting a dime in the till to balance the cash drawe r-then escor ting lovely Ms. Bunny back to her Hotel-where she ask oun own Lion Leo to come on up and have a nite cap, before going to catch his bus back to camp. (now Lion Leo says we must wait till next week to hear th e end?) Now what could Happen? I ; Lion Leo went Upstairs? 2 . Lion Leo missed the bus? 3. Lion Leo said thank you but he was needed at USO reading room? WWII ADVENTURES as reported by our peripatetic PP Leo Finkelstein: While stationed with the Army in or near LA, he met and to appreciate the many fine qualities o~ h~s and our . beloved Sylvia, who at the time was a recep~1on1st at a ~ov1e studio, and was. instt'tJmental in h~lping a s1x year old gu.·l obtain a part in a movie. Accord1ng to Leo, she and a fr1end were dining in a hoi polloi establishment and asked for the check. The Chef r.ame out and said, "thet'e wi 11 be no ~heck because you helped my daughter get the part that was g1ven het•. " Thank you, Leo, for the entertaining way . t~at you . present your recollections and adventures. We JOln you 1n the sentiment that "Sylvia is as sweet as ever." ca~e WWII report was given by Lion PP Leo Finkelstein. Ye Ed al~ost forgot: PP Lion Leo read to us another of his letters from the South Pacific. This time he had written about snakes and he had told about how "hissed off" a lady snake became when irritated by her rept·ilian boyfriend. Enough of that, Lion Leo!! Before the program, PP Leo regaled us again with one of his tales from an Army Air Corps Base. He had written a letter fro• said base to friends and relatives whose subject was the PX. He called it a co~bination of gPneral store and night club and you can take it from there. �Apparen t ly we're in moderately good heal t h; o therwise , probably would have been a health and welfare report. As i t t here was, Lion pp Leo Finkels t ein regaled us again with one of his reminiscences-- t his t ime abo u t Keep'em coming, Leo. PP Joe Sternberg's fa t her. You always se t an in te resting and humorous to ne for our mee t ings. LION pp LEO FINKELSTEIN regaled us with another of his tall tales. This time again about PP Joe Sternberg's father, a well known ladie s ' man in his day . It seems that Mt· . Ster•nbet•g cautioned his childt·en not to "go to no t•oadho uses" t w0 0 t' t h t' e e t i me s h and-t' u n n i n g • F i n a 1 1 y , h i s d au g h t e t' P i P e d up and said, "What's the matter·, daddy, at'e you aft•aid that we ' 1 1 f i n d y o u t h e t' e ? " ' N1 f f s a i d , e h , L e o · .1 Lion Leo e n tertai ned us with one of his youthful adventur e s wit h the Sternberg' s . Lion Leo was invited on an overnigh t t rip to Mt . Pisgah with three members of the Class of 19C.1. Aftet' tt·aveling to Mt. Pi s gah in Mt·s . Stet•nbet·g ' s seven pas se nger Mo rman automobile, they enjoyed a meal of p o s s 1.1 m and sweat pot at o e s , v en s i on and beat' s t e a k s . Aft e t' the group had made camp for the nigh t and Mrs . Sternberg had returned to Asheville , Eva S t ern berg broke out a Bromo Seltzer bottle, which contained some of Mr. Sternberg s best bourbon . Editors note: The rest of the story was deleted to p r o tect the innocent . Lion Leo gave 1.1s anothet' outsta nding w , 1 this time about the senior members of :~ d War II re port, other mattPrs . As always Leo we , e.club along with " h istot•ical" t'ep ot•t. ' ' appteclate yo1.1r PP Leo Finklestein brought another humorous ancedote about Lion Joe Sternberg and his father. In the days when you traveled to Waynesville by car and then caught a train to Murphy, Old Man Sternberg went ab out buying and selling cow hides and junk and sometimes his son, Joe, accompanied him all the way to Murphy. On one occasion, after he had acquired a local bank, the elder Mr. Sternberg lent a circus $200.00 and took an elephant as collateral. The elephant, of course, ate too much; and the only way the bank could recoup was to sell the manure to a local nursery and florist shop Middlemont Gardens. ' �Lion Leo g ave us an outline of the histo ry o f unsec u red l oans given to tho se in need and h o w the se loan s help keep the "Stt• eet Walker s " o ff the stt•eets o f A s~oev i lle. 4. PP Le o Finkelstein announce d that t h e Historical Committee is r unning thin after his having reported on so many events and l et te"t' s, et c . ; and it wi 11 wel c o~e your contributions to t he Committ e e's i n v e n t o t' y • Lion Leo Finkelstein amused us with his story of the legalization of alcoho l sa l es on October 1st, 1933. Prior to October 1st, when Lion Leo was presi d ent of a local mens club, it was his duty to supply dt•inks to the membet'S . After a local Rabbi returned from his eventful trip to Baltimore, and after much discussion regardi n g the legals of the situation, evet·yone in the clt.\b decided that the only thing to do was to have dt•inks aftet' the meeting. Lion Leo also pointed out that amazingly enough , 150 members sho wed up for the event, compared to the normal 40. Thank you, Lion Leo, for entertaining us once again . Lion Leo also asked that anyone who can contribute a tale to the Hi sto rica l Committee do so . Lion Leo rega led us ag-« i-n with ~ume of his t'eco-llections of by-gone da ys in Asheville . There were times during the ' 20s when a half-carat diamond would support a loan of $50 . 00 and other iteas sustained similar loan values percentagewise . How times have changed! Lion Leo regaled us once more today with quite an i n t e t' e s t i n g t a 1 e w i t h t h e mo t' a 1 o f t h e s t o t' y be i n g , " I f y o u i ntend on committing suicide, be aware that you could be a t't'e st ed!" LION LEO regaled us again with some of his memories of Asheville and its enviorns-- this time an experi ence o f th e late It·ving S . Cobb, who, as a g•.1est of Gt• ove Pat'k Inn, got teed off at the then cur fe w on a ut o mobil es . Author Cobb later wr ote an arti cl e that appeared in a l ocal new s pape r entitled "The B•.mk of Buncombe". Of co•.wse, Lion Leo ga v e the hilarious details of what brought on sa id article . Thanks, Leo , for your entertaini n g reminiscences . Lion Leo o n ce aga i n Qave us an insi~ht into t h e Trades and Pt·ofit of ~..Jl·J II in the So 11 th Pac1fic "nth ta l es of RadiosJvloney - l<nive s a n rJ Beel' . -.J 1 -" 0 1 1 �!HE WEfKLY A '.t g '.t s t 1 4' ... 8ULLETI~ OF THE LIONS CLUB - 19 9 1 Lion Le o entertained us today with a tale about the Doctor who came into his establishment to purchase a gun . Aftet• the sale was complete, Li on Leo said, "Thank you , sit•. " At t h i s t h e man t' e p 1 i e d , " I ' m n o t a ' S i t• ' , I ' m a Doc t o t• ! " The next day, the Doctor used the gun to commit suicide . After learning of the suicide , L i on Leo won d ered to himself why the doctor didn't j ust ~rescribe so me p ills to do the .job. Upon t•eflection, Lion Leo decided that if medication co s t ~ t hen !•!h :?. t i t do e s t o day , and s i r: c e t h ere 1·J e t' e no restrict ions for purchasing a gun in those days, it must have been the most inexpensive way to go about the task at hand. Thank you, Lion Leo, fot• shat•ing , s•.tch an intet•esting tale of the past with us . - - - - · - - - - - --1 PP Leo Finkelstein presented another of his historical (so metime s hyst erical> musings. This time he reported on havin g ren t ed twenty 12-g auge shotguns to arm so me special deputies se eking to prevent a grou p from South Caro lina fr om breaki ng a strik e at the Beaco n Plant. These guns must h ave been he l pfu l because no violence occurred and no c h ange wa s made in the labo t• sit•.tation . Also, in 1934, PP Leo was appointed a special d ep ut y a nd delivered a bra nd ne w shotgun to th e Gro ve Park In n where he was told to go to the back d o o t' t h a t mo n e y t o p a y f o t' t h e g u n wo l.t l d be t h e t• e • La t e t' ~ h e f o u n d o •.t t h e c o •.t 1 d , i f h e want e cl t o , g o t o t h e ft· o n t d o o t' wi t h o t' w i t h o u t a g u n . T h an k s , L e o f o t• y o • .n· g o o d wor' d s t hat add spice to our meeting s . ----- - L ion Leo Hi storica l /Hysterica l re po rt to da y was another en joyable moment . Lion Leo really needs to write a book. (Think of it as a fund t•aiset•, b•Jt don't tell the Tail Twister). Anyway , today Lion Leo showed us how to come home from WWII, get a jo b as a commis s ione r· , not get paid, b ut beco me a n an gler of eels. Ha ! Lion Leo, my advise is to use the belt buckle method . THE WEEKLY BULLETIN OF THE LIONS CLUS August 28, 1991 TODAY'S MEETING was cal l ed to order at 12:00 noon by L ion Presi d e nt Dave Perkins. Lion Pres. Dave also led us in the Pled ge of Allegiance . The s inging of America and the Nort h Carolina Lions Song was once a gain l ed b y Lion Sec. Joe Parsons with backup on the keyboards with none other than PP/Hysterical/Historical Lion Leo Finkelstein . �Lion Leo's Hysterical/Historical 1/2 hour today was another enlightening report. He spoke of Lion Joe Sternberg's civic involvement with the Lady's Aide Society and how ~500 .~0 in dGnations would be a drop in t he bucket. He also said if Lion PDG Shelby had been around they probably co uld have gotten off cheaper fo~ the violation of subletting in a department store . Thank you Lion Leo ! ·----------------·-----------·..,Lion Leo once again amused us with one of his Reports . The theory behind the story is that dimes, maybe we would be better off in a dark Thank you, Lion Leo, for another enlightening past. , - ._ ___ .-,......_..._. Hi storical "if we were pocketbook." tale from the TODAY'S PROGRAM Our Program Chairman, along with our schedu led speaker for today, were both unable to attend. But we did have a good pt•ogt'am aftet' all, as Lion·Leo t'egaled us .. with another of his dissertations entitled ''I remember when . If you wet·e not pt•esent , you missed a _t·eal tt·eat. Thank you, Lion Leo, fot' coming tht•ough once aga1n. AND THEN OUR REAL PROGRAM: Lion piano player Leo Finke lstein amused us somemore by reading letters he had sent to the club when he was in the South Pacific {during World War II) • . When Lion Leo was drafted someone from the club asked him to let us hear from him while he was in the service. he kept his promise. of his letters. He sa id he would, and We are fortunate indeed that he kept copies If you were absent today you missed a good one. J. M. P. J ant.tat·y 2:=.: , -·-·--------·-~----·---- 1992 TODAY'S MEETING was promptly called to order at 12:00 pm by L1on ~resident Dave Perkins, f oll ow ed by the Pledge of Allegiance led by Lion John 8erdie, afterwhich Lio n PP Powell Ball gave the invocation . The singing of Ameri c a and The North Carolina Lions Song wa s directed by Lion Sec . Joe Parsons and our Sanctimonious 3 , L io ns Fritz & David Albertso n and l_io n PDG Jack Cole accompanied by the Histerical PP Leo Finkelst ei n. ... __.,-- ----------------------~... ______________________________. �c0~~ ----- EDITORS Shelby E. Horton Editor In Chief Ed Shurts Powell Ball Bill Anderson VOLUME 5 LIONS ROAR ~ -----·· . &"ke"tL~, 'f1.e. THE WEEKLy BULLETIN OF THE LIONS CLUB NUMB~R "'=l_ \ 3 .__ . L o for another of upon h told PRESIDENT DAVE then . cal l ed World Llon II e LION f War . Toda y e hi s much-anticipated memolrS o d g r oup of his friends about the aplomb with which he a~ ~ some Japanese planes and accepted the news of.the appro:~e :roup was typical of the warship s . The r eactlon among d German perfidy : We went Ame ri c an res pon se to Japanese ~nd dent persons . After a cef11l and 1n epen int o that wat~ as pea . . ved came out the same wa y . - - great v ict ory , we who survl -L I ON LEO r egaled us ag a in with s ome of hi s tale s from the Phillipines during Wo r ld War II . Thi s ~ime he told ab out a socia l event at which the Fillipino lad1e s present took.off their shoes and danced in their stockin ged <?> feet. L1~n ated that this was an expt·ession of the "tt·u e mean1ng L eo s t . ' th of sox appeal". Thank you, Lion Leo, fat• s har1ng w ~ us your interesting Worl d War II e x perience s and e s pec1ally for the humor you b ri ng to the Club. B1STORIAN'S REPORT fr om t h e b ig WW II brought fort h a POEM f r o m the Sou th Seas (slands. Seems Lion Leo Finkelstein was !:>olefull y lamenting that tht! 13th Air Fo rce Bombardiers in trying to rid this o ne i s J and of J apa ne se by targetinK Headq u n. r t,0.rs and M ilitary Instal lation:3 on the I zl a.nd , e rro neously, m i~takenly , accidentally, 5orr o wf ully h it t he " Red Light" W omens faci l ity ri~stroyi ng the only r ecreational facility o n this I sl~ nd . Victory o n acquisition of thi s Island did not make them e ntirely happy witb the Bombardier s l ack o f skill . Touche' Lio n Leon. LION LEO aga1n r egaled u s with some of his escapades in the S outh ~acifi c during World War II . T hi s time in comments about h l s - -as a Co r poral - -having s igned a rece i pt for a one rn1 l l1c•n doll<:tr' aH' plane used to help blast t he.Japanes e into submiss1on . 1-Je look for•war'd every Wednesday, Lion Leo, to learning from you ho w the war wC:ts · won both serio u sly and at times hilariously . Thank you for your re minders of histori c a n d amus ing events . �IJ=:.Lion Leo Finkelstein shared another of his "Hysterical; Historical" reports, so named by Lion President Dave Perkins, with the club today dating back to WWII on the South Pacific !sl~nds . Th~rP wa~ some discussion about nicknames a~d oUr vet·y own Lion Leo was named "Leo the Li or.1" and after a dive into a foxhole during an air raid was then renamed as "Fox hole Finkelstein". Thankyou, Lion Leo, for your very_ intet·esting reports of a time long past, but most assuradly not fot•gotten. ~ PROG~ was. courtesy of Lion Leo from the Swaying Palms of the South Seas. ~ Bis ~~ary ~s one of those that told us about all those dogs and snakes he ~nto out t,here. Was that before or after our bombers blew up the house ill r~pute, Leo ..... . ... .. Got to talking about all those fox holes. \ Didn't th~nk we had added that term "foxes" to our vocabulary until the ~ 1960's. Great stories Leo. Keep it up. ran ~ of LION LEO then filled us in some more on events in the South Pacifi c during World War II. He commented that it was safer to be in a fox hole on a Pacific Isl~nd confronted by Japanese soldiers than it would have been on the streets of Asheville in an automobile driven by one's wife or gi rl- f r iend. Li o n Leo gave an interesting solution t6 the problem of prostitution in Asheville. Seems like he mentioned someth~ng about the possibility of having someone na~ed Queen Elizabeth not to be confused with the Queen of ~ngland, to run a reputable ??? business of the above mentioned??? Wel l, th a :"'l<you Lion Lee , I am sure that the Asheville J:•olice Dept ., and other Law enforceme n t a gencies would appreciate your viewpo i nts!!! Ll(JN LEO then p t· o c eeded to t•egale us ~.oJitl1 mot·e sto t• ies abo1.tt Mar tne s , Army and Air Force 1 n the Far East during World War 1 1. He s tated that they all s • .tbsisted on an d pt•actically evet·ything was dehydt·ate d "except the weathet·" . The next item on the agenda entitled "Hysterical Moments" consisted of another hilarious report of his activities both on the ocean and on Guadalcanal by Lion Leo. And on this occasion, he He a 'l ways keeps us in stitches. reminded u s that many tourists pay thousands of dollars to see ocean and sky and he watched b~p ov~r a period of se ~ era l days at no e xpense whatever to h1m. �-------·----After these announcements, Lion PP Leo was called upon to refresh our memories of WWII by letting us in on some of his exper·iences in the South Pacific. Today, he emphasized Ne w Caledonia from which he wrote a letter to the Asheville Club indicatin g he c ouldn't tell much o f anything by way of des cribing the place . But he did tell us t hat a farmer's daughter on the island asked him if s he could do anything for him and Leo a~ked her if s he had some music and a way to play .-- lt . S he produced an elderl y r~cord player and pla yed what h e thought might be either some island music or some up to d a t e boogie wo og ie. Wl-,at he hear·d wa s "good old mountain music P 1 a Ye d · by a t' e a l h i 1 1 b i 1 1 y band • " - --- --- .J ~- LION LEO presented ~ome of his hilarious experiences during WWII . This time he told abcut helping "Corporal Mark" furnish security in the nighttime for 60,000 pound bombers, their mess hall, wareho1.1ses, etc. on an island in the Pacific. Such duty led to full stomachs and happy experiences for both of them; and their consciences were clear because their missions were accomplished and the base and its armaments were secure and the cause of peace was being advanced. - - - ·-------- - ---- Some of Lion Leo ' s she nanig ans in the South Pacific were reported by him in letter fo rm during WWII. And in this i n~tance, consis ted of some hilarious experiences in particular among three friends who managed somehow or another to purchase some $8.00 per gallon ice cream for 8.3 cents per gallon . That has to be the best small business venture in the ?istory of the world. Keep i t up, Lion Leo, we are enjoying your Pacific Island adventures as much as you did ! L1o n Leo ' s "Hy st et• i ca l M o ~o~ent s " co ncentt•ated today upon s n ahes a nd bit•d s and ot ll t-r' u r1Ll ~~ l ·r·ab le c t• eatut•es as they wet' e tol t.n•a t e d ( ? )by Amer· ican Gls in Ti s h omingo dtn•i nu WI-JII. Genet·a l S het•m a n ~-J as r· ight: " vJa'r' J S l1ell!" ( as the Bos ni c.,ns and Se t'bs 1·1 ill tell y ou). lh a nl< you, L ion Leo , fot' "mal<ing o ut' day " as s o of t e n you h ave done. I I �LEO'S LINES about doing his dirty linen in a stolen "Mess Ball" Bucket, with l/2 Box Rinso; 1/2 bottle Clorox on a time delay schedule really can crack you up , when you realize you're in the South Pacific on an island during World War II. A 50 year old story will go over at our club anytime Leo . Don't try it out in our sister Clubs . Leo learned that dark socks do fade on white shorts . Leo did learn that 24 hours soaking doesn • t get them any cleaner. Leo did turn in the Stolen Mess Ball Bucket , requisitione d new socks and shorts . Good Story Leo . Grizzard could learn a trick or two from YOU . Lion Leo F1nkelste1 n o n ce agai n gave us 1ns1g ht i nto the dare i ng deeds of o u r fig ht i n g me n a nd wo me n o f t h e Sout h Pacific . Letters to Mother, L ions a nd Fr i ends tol d of the creatures, small woodland thi ng s th at mig h t b e f o un d in on e s fox hole-. Lion Leo entertai n ed us with two letters written on two seperate is l ands in WWII. W can appreciat e h ow L eo had a e bad case of "Island Fevet' 11 b lt t was a bl e t o la ugh a b o Lt t i t. We c h e t' i s h o ut' h 1 s t o t ' i c a 1 01 o 01 en t " e v tH' y we e k • II of Cons ist ed primarily of som e more L L io n TODAY' S PROGRAM d in t h e South Pacifi c and elsewhere . eo Leo's escapa es . .. db e 11 to a blind described the last moment~ o fh ~~~l~: r :o:h i ~e h e r e fused to dat e i n "a p rop e r mann er, w d .d describe . BLtt after much prodding ft-om TT Ann , he 1 d e s Ct' i be as she said no . " II . h got his hands on some copies of PP Guy Penland some o: 1933 In o n e of them appeared the Roar dating a s t fart batche =~feet ~ hat o n a street car in o . L 10 n Leo's statemen ntly had previ o sly sewn a Asheville , a b~xom lady c:p~~r~er sk i rt . And , in an effort to secret pocket 1n t h e baf for car fare s he kept strugg l ing retrieve a nicke l t h ere r om k. t a nd the ~an b ehi nd ~ er <L io n with the said back of h e r s lr .d d that he pay her car tare . She sa l , Leo?> S ltggeste . d o n't kno w you" to which he res po nded, " I "Absolutely not, ll ther · but you have unbuttoned my pants . don ' t k n ow you, e , three time . " . k · ng all of the fore g oing c o nstituted -To Ye Ed's th 1 n 1 ' " Ltld s e\ y--"a verdammt gut p t•ogram . as the Germans WO c See you next week . S . E. H. �I- TOOAY'S PROGRAM consisted of long-missed renditions b y our own Band; Fritz and Dave Albertson, PDG Jack Cole, and . PP John Heatherly on the washboard. Much missed was PP Leo Finkelstein <our teller of tall tales of the Far ~ast during WWII years> . The observance of Yo m Kipper necessitated Li o~ Leo's and othe~'s' absence. Fellow Lions, w~ missed ev'el'y' one of yo • .tL and y ou missed a whale of a good ' musical p~·o g ~'a m. Anytime the Santimonious 7--or any po r tio n o f it--plays , the sound s ar• terrific and most enjo ya ble. Needless to say, thei r rendition of DIXIE ("oc..\r National Anthem") is second to none in the whole wide world and it is indeed a pleasure to s tand and salute when they play it, which we did. Thanks, f e 1 1 ow s, f o ~>' yo u r t i me and t a 1 en t • P 1 ease k e e p 1.1 s on y o u r list of bookings. ------- LION LEO did h i s usual humorous presentation of facts and figures <?> of life in the Pacific during WWII. ~his time he told us of flies of great size and number which, when hungry, ate any and everything in sight; but at ot he r times t ·urned u p their noses at mess hall fare--as appat• ent 1 y did some of the troops . Lion Leo amused us with his WWII story of the . ext t•ao t•d i na-r·y Wheell ng and dea l ing necessar y t o obtain the • s_i_mp l e_ c..~ ~ t.n._ ~f___:__m a_ t_r e_ s _______ __ l_ : '_:_Y__:o : a _ t_ _ s__. ' And c.s u s ual , Lion r r LDO Fl nkelstei n ga v e his fam ous report ,..•,..• "' .ttl on WWII reg ard ing t he d • · es of the service personnel in the Pac ific Island s . PP Lion Leo entertained us royally again with tales of the best way to fight a war known to any of us: with wit and humor. These particu lar tales centered around Ki sho min go , Ok lah o ma and kept us in stitches. \- \ Lion Leo regaled us again with so me of his expe riences in the South Pacific during WWII . The instance that he c i ted indicated that he h ad been ~- efe t• t•ed to as "Leo The Het· o " un t il at hi s first a i r raid he ran twelve ot h er Gl s to the neat' est covel' . Aft e ~, t h a t 1 th ey l<n e w hi m as " Fox h o 1 e Finkelstein" . If foll~s c ould enjoy the Bosnian W at· a s muc h as Lion Leo enjoyed hi s , there would b e no reason to sto p the blood s hed . �2. Knowing Lion Leo as we all do, there wi~l be so•e _ sidesplitting laughs. ~ou'll rue your absence--1f it occ~~s -for •any years to co••· You owe it to Leo and to yourse to be there!! &. --- ---------------------- Be sure to attend neMt week's •eetinga Lion PP Leo Finkelstein will have a large part of the progra• and will speak on "The Love Life of a Soldier in WWII." We have two assurances a 1. There will be no pornography or e•barrasing state•ents such as we see and hear on the radio and television. TODAY'S PROGRAM was presented by Program Chairman, Lion Helen Smith, who introduced Lion PP Leo Finkelstein and Lion Ann Rice. Lion Leo had put together a script containing some of his highly hilarious experiences as a soldier in the Islands of the Pacific during WWII. It took the form of questions--as posed by Lion Ann--and answers by Lion Leo and was entitled "The Love. (?) Life of a Soldier in WWII." To Ye Ed the funniest episode referred to the fact that a much maligned bombardier spotted a red light the women on the island." ~nd "blew up all of All present got many belly laughs out of today's program; and we thank you Lions Helen, Ann, and Leo for presenting to us so many opportunities for same . To Lion Leo: Please keep reducing your memoirs to writing and make them available to all of us in book form. \ Lion Leo then regaled us with another of his Hysterical Moments, this time in ve~y amt~sing poetry. Keep up the good work, Lion Leo, yot1 ft1r~1~h us wi ~ h wonderful opportunit · to laugh; "the best med1c1ne". les ,, �Following Father Bob's exposition, Lion Helen called upon Lion PP Leo Finkelstein for another of his highly humorous experiences on islands in the Far East. This time, Lion Leo · read to us some excerpts ·of letters he had written home--primarily to his m~ther--about Hanukkah and Christmas. These letters told the great contrast between conditions where he was and conditions in the home kept spotleis and extremely comfortable by his "Mom". belo~ed To Ye Ed these letters bespeak of the tremendous love and affection a young soldier had for his beloved mother and the wonderful memories that he had of his home and homeland. Lion Historian Leo added another jewel to his co l lection of letters from the Sout h Pacific. The Historical report was given by Lion Leo Finkelstein aMd was most ent~rtaining as usual. ~hank you Lion Leo for sharing part of your past with us. ~ Lion Leo then gave us the benefit of •ore of his very. pleasurable "Historica~ Mo ~ents." This ti•e he reflected upon experiences that he and so•e friends had at the old Asheville High School--if me•ory s~rves correctly--at or about 1922. According to Lion Leo, those were interesting and memorable days indeed; especially when an auto•obile was available. Thanks, Leo, for sharing with us so•e of you~ wonderful •emeries that re•ind us of how A•erica was and perhaps could be agian. PP Guy Penland presented the Eye Clinic Report as follow: Total Units of work for January, 455; &7 referrals to personal Physicians were made; Eye Glasses donated, 38 and 22 sets of lenses; Eye Exa• and Glasses provided by the Clinic, 2 pair; Eye Care Assistance provided through the eye glass program, 27; Volunteers donated 111 hours of service. L utlo Leo 1 .s. rtl<td s tein once <.\ y.:.\in e nt e t•tc.\ined lts with his tc.de s f r•cm WWII. t4 s a lo.-:c.>.ys, it is a.n enjoyment fot' all of us. \ Lion Leo was back and gave u s one more story from the South Pacific. As usual it was su{t~ble for the day. ----------------------- �~~\'LlONS ROAR EOITOKS ~~~lby ~. Hurtun £ditor ln Chief Ed Shuru l:'uwdll Bt~ll Bil I Andt>r 111on THE WEIKLY IULLITIN 0' THI LIONS CLUI SPECIAL 70TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION January 27, 1993 Today's •eeting was held in a party at•osphere with lots of hats and horns dispensed by Lion Tail Twister Ann Rice. The delicious •eal was supple•ented with a large, chocolate birthday cake. The •eeting was ~alled to order at noon by Lion President Dr. Al Anderson. The Pledge of Allegiance was led by Lion PP John Heatherly and the invocation was given by Lion J.W. Kibler. Lion PDG Ji• Parker introduced our distinguished guest Lion DG Tony Dalton. Lion DG Tony congratulated us on our 70th anniversary •aking us the oldest club in District 31A. We can also clai• the oldest president of a 31A club, Lion PP __.Leo FinkelsteiQ, and the oldest •e•ber, Lion PP Bill Plu••er. L~on Tony urged us to intensify our fund raising for "Sight First" this year and our •e•bership drive to add at least 10% •ore •••bers. The district •ay be rearranged if overall •e•bership continues to fall. By the way, Lion Leo will be 88 in June and Lion Bill will be 9& the sa•i •ontR. -- ~ Lion PDG Jack Cole gave a brief history of our club. We were sponsored by the Wiryston-Sale• Club and beca•e the 10th Club in North Carolina when we received our charter on March 22, 1923. There were 50 charter •e•bers. The oldest ljvjgg ..-p~sldent a L.;igp Lep (1939-ML) followed by Llon - DanFurr <1943-44>. The band started ~n the 70's under the leadership of Lion PP Sheriff Charlie Long. Lion Leo retired and started playing the piano while Lion Jack soon joined as a fiddler. The band now known as the 'Sancti•onious Seven' consisted today of Lions Fritz <and son Dave>, Ben, John, George, Jack, and Bill. This was Lion Bill Anderson's debut on the dru•s and he sounded quite professional without rehearsing or •usic. The band proceeded to play our old favorites: 'Loneso•e Road Blues', 'Yes Sir That's My Baby', 'Five Foot Two and Eyes of Blue', 'In the Good 01' Su••erti•e', ' I ' • Forever Blowing Bubbles', and closed with their the•e song 'She Wore a Tulip & I Wore a Big Red Rose'. awe» 'I Lion PP Leo entertained us with so•e early history of he club. He spoke of •eeting in the '30's in the S&W afeteria when •eals cost less than t1.00. He spoke of a elebration of so•e obscure event when 97 •e•bers out of a possible 100 attended a stag party on Beaucather Mountain hi!:h illu~tr~ted tt;a pa1•ticipat.iu11 in those days. Leo's re•iniscence is always a•using and sti•ulating. \~ �LION LEO presented another install•ent of his historical <I call'•• "hysterical"> experiences in Uncle Sa•'s Ar•y during WWII. The funniest part of today's install•ent had to do with the •any uses of his hel•et; particularly under his bed. It brought the house down when Leo told us that during a" ~------~ ~ J ~specti~ wh~~der hts bed, it was found to contain . 1 '• pretty near a gallon of kickapoo joy juice. This after •any I other valid and necessary uses. Please accept, ~eo, ~ur heartfelt appreciation for the wonderful •anner 1n wh1ch you lighten the burden of our lives. And please extend to Lioness Sylvia our very best wishes for a speedy and co•plete recovery. J t b k memories of Tokyo Ro~e Lion Historian Leo brough ac . seductive dialouge, Sh ~ oduced popular ~auslc, during WWII. ~ P~ rican troop movementc. Leo and u~canny predlctlons of Ame h could receive her progra• . requested a r~dio !rom _home so :he roup electrical experts His radio arrlve d ln pleces . and ~ ~atic until Leo showed . It 5 recept1on . was "t e~~ t•easse •bled 1t. After that it wot• k e d his talent fo r repair by d r opplng 1 • .. .... ···fine! _____ .. ..... _ -- -- -- _ ___ ___ _ _ f sharing fo x holes with 4 hazardsfo . L ion Leo . re pot•ted the yearned or t h e d ay the int t'•.lders " WII He th foot lizards 1n W • t In response to e s. Wo •.lld be limit ed to flies, bees and _an sourc e of i"r•t•itatio n in 1 d that his maln TT's probing heal owe with Miss Anderson. .... Tishomingo were the bed bugs in _ --- ~_.~------ ~---------------------------- Leo's Hy~terical Mo•ents con~isted this ti•e of tales about trips to interesting and colorful plac~~ a•ong interesting and colorful people during his Basic Training •onths at Mia•a Beach. Leo should, if he hasn't already, ~eek forgiven•~• for the •anner in which he obtained at lea~t one pass and for so•e of h i~ act~ and thought~ while us ing ~••e i n various places of infernal devices. So•• way to ~pend a portion of the world'~ greatest war! We congratulate you, Lion Leo, upon your •any intere~ting and happy experiences. And keep the• co•ing. Li on Leo wo t• ld doesn't Moments" Lion many things a up, Lion Leo. misse d hi s ca ll in g. He ' s "a poet, but the k now it." Dm•ing hi s h ig h l y "Hyste~· ical Leo regaled us with rhymed recollections of the GI can do with his helmet •. J<eep diggin' ' em They nev er f a il to brighten o ur day. The Health a nd 1.-lel fat•e Rep o•• t given by Lion Fathet· Bob Douglas revea l ed a brief hospita l stay by PP Histo ri a n L eo Finke l ste in. Lion Leo i s resti n g at home and we wish the be st fo t• him. <l-Je mi ssed you, Lion Leu! !) \ �Immediately following the above announcements , Lion President Al called upon L;on pp Leo f or h ~s weekly "Hysterical ' ~ Report" . Lion Leo commented that t h is report was #71 on WWII of a total of 150 such reports. This time he discussed (if memory serves co rr ectly) a ten mile march with a ri~e , a te nt with metal pegs , field rations , a mess kit , toothbrush , a canteen of water a nd other odds and ends of military equipment hanging from his back and shoulders and arms. The way he described this experien ce was very amusing to all of us; but to him at the time, especia lly in a hot desert su n, it couldn't have been and wasn't amusing to him. But we thank you, Lion Leo , for you r reminiscenses and for your having done your patriotic duty-serving your country and doing "everything (they) could get (you) to do" . Keep these reports coming--for they enliven our me e tings. Leo ' s Hysterical Moments consisted this time of Leo's P t·esct•i pt ion fot· a "Good Day" . The D i ><i e Band -- "l•Je Play and pl ay and nevet' get vleat·y . 1-Je' 11 Jazz yo u up and mal<e yo•.t ch e e t' y , We ' 1 1 ma k e yo u d a;, c e z. n d n e v e t' s i t s t i 1 1 , You ' 1 1 h av e to shimmy , agai n st you 1-1ill" . Leo said i n c l osing Apt•il 15 1981 was the 50th Reunion o f Asheville ~ligh School Class of 22 . And Leo says the Days of Good Spi t• its an d pat•ting a t'e gone ! A 5 e v i d e n c e by o 1.11' p t' o !] t' a m I 5 o t' n b i c s . "f h a n I< s L e o f o r' the days gone by. In his "Hysterical Military Moments ," Lion Leo told about how on Guadalcanal he managed t o "pt•ocut•e" enough ft•esh water to take a bath. All of us wh o served in the military k n ew and wet•e reminded that in the service, "pt•ocure" is another word for "steal". On e thing abo u t it , in that place and in that climate, Lion Leo co uld only be congratulated and not chastised for operating as he did. Lion Leo once again l' Epo.· l; c• J o n his a dventut· es d•.:t'ing WWII - thi s time t' epot•ting on the nout•is hrnent of s almon in the ca n along with the beve1•age of c hoi ce , Jungle J uic e , which or-iginat ed ft •o m t r eated a l coho l. Nice job, Lion Leo. �rz.l Today, PP L ion Leo F inl<el s tein t•e g a l e cl u s agai n v1 ith s ome of h is ta ll ta le s . Today ' s episod e c o n s i s ted of a n expos e of i c e crea m profit s and/or los ses d ur ing WWII. It see ms th at one of h is partner s , S i l be rste in <? >, wh o h a d a tremendou s r eputation as a tra~er , was i nvo l ved wi th L i on Leo in said ice c t• eam tt•an sact i e n s 1-Jhet•eby al l concet•ned t t.wn ed a handsome pt•oflt . Than l<s , Lion Leo , fot• shat• ing th is e><pet•ien c e vJith u s . 1-Je l oo l< fcn· wat•d to yoa.n· I·J ee ~<l y t t• ip s "d 0 1·10 me mor· y l a n e ". Today ' s 1 et 1ng ended , ..., .:.:; '' "q ... py notr.:; C\ 1l d t h e r. e><t or. e ne will s t art a nd finish th e sa me way. See you t h en ; a nd in between. S. E. H. TODAY'S PROGRAM co n sisted ~rima~i1y of Club busi n ess and po e m s a ' ' d t' e mi n i s c en c £> s a 5 t' e n d P t' e t ' b y t h e T e 1 1 e t• of T a 1 1 Ta l es , PP L eo F .i•ll <e l s l:td n. 'ltli s C l• lll ~p· eat l y t:\f.lp t·t~c i -:lte s y u u , L i o n L e o 1 a 11 d y o u 1' man y a n11.1 5 i 11 y e x p e t • i e n c e s ( i n c l•J d i n y ob s et•v ing top l e ss v1 0 111 e n in t h e Pao:: ifi c , eve n t h ou yh yo u l ost out on so me obse t· vat io n s bec.;n1se of feat• th e darn ' bo a t would s inl< ) . l.J e d o n' t b l ame yu11 , Lio n Leo, b11. l; it s • .we \'IOt.tld ha ve bee n nice to h ave t il e J..llP<:\ ~ UI ' e o f see iny jn pict1.wes 1-1hat you sa1•1 fit · s t - ha nd . Th an l<s a yi:\in , Lion Leu , fot' s hat•ing 1·1it ll •1s yow· many a m•J s iny a nd del j ~~ ll tf •.ll l-Jl.Jll expet• ience s . PROGRAM Rs today~ pl' OY I't:\ m vi <.\ S to CO I• s i s t of c l•.1b busi ne ss a n d we fl ad none, Lio l• PP Le<' Fi nl<e l stei n s h .:n•etJ ~o1ith u s so me s tcoi- ies t · ~yc:\tui ny i.i·~ Si.t> r' lliHo·r ~ ~ 1-t s" a l ways L i on Leo ha s a ~o1ay 1 ·1ith wot•ds "'' llU Ci'\11 m<:\l<e yo •.l l a uHh at t h e dt•op of a HAT . Th a n l< yo•J Lion Leo fot• a ll of the sto t'ies yo u h a ve s ll a t• ed v-1 it h tl s , fot • all of l: he st u n ts y(PJ 1 ve pulled tht•o•Jgh the yeat• s And fot ' a l1o~ay s ma ldny •1 s lau yh!! __ . . .. - _'""' ___ _ P . S. Lion Leo, we mi sse d yo ut' "Hystet• i ca l Mome nt s " today t a nd hope you will be i:\b l e to bri ng u s two epi~o~es at the ~e~ me e t i n g • R 1 s o , t h e Ash e v i 1 1 e L i on s C l • b .) o 1 n ~ t h e Ro at ~ n .l s e n d i n g v e t' y b e 5 t ~<li s h e s f o t' y o o d h e a 1 \; h t o L 1 o n e s s S Y 1 v 1 a · S ub seque n t to the proy~am , Lion L eo was ca ll ed upo n to g i v e u s an 0 1; h e t' i n s t a 1 1 111 e n t o f " 11 ; s t e t ' i c a 1 mo me n t s " 1'1 i t h i n a mattet' of a ppt· oximately ti·IO minutes , whi c h he did to •.lpt•oat•ious l au gh te t• a nd app l a•.1se . . Ke ~ p the se moments • .1p, Lion Leo . They ar e a w onde~ful h 1 ghl1ght . See you next we ek a nd succe ed ing Wednesday s . S. E. H. �FROM LION FATHER BOB' S Health a nd W lfar e Report , we learned e that PP Leo Finkelstein pl a ns t o be back with us on Wedn e sda y . We are all thankful, Lion Leo , that you are making as much pt•ogt· ess phy s i ca lly as you at•e and we hope th a t Liones s Sylvia i s making t he same kind of progress. To both of you go the be s t wish e s of the members o f the Asheville Lions' Club . Lion Leo's "H ystet• i c al Moments" came out of his WWII e x pet·i en c es in the As i a ti c Theatet· . "Our Boys" did a bang - up job over there unde r s ome very adv ers e circumstanc es , in c luding we a ther . ·ro illustra te, Li o n Leo said there wasn't muc h use in the tents "to sweep dit•t off of dit·t . " Lion Leo reminded us also that the weather was the subject of c omplaint s practically 24 hour ~ p d r day between many amusing military experien c es. Ke e p 'em c oming , Lion Leo . L io n P DG Jim P a rker woul d lik e t o re mind h is fellow Lion s that if anyone find s Lion Leo's dog, pl ease give h i m a ca ll. S ee you s oon! ATR Today ' s meet iny fea ture d variou s i te ms o f b u si nes s a n d they inc l uded reports , most o f wh ich we re good to h ear a nd i nd ica t e d a c on s id e t•a bl e a mount of h a t•d 1-JOt' k o n the par·t o f many d i ffe t·en t L i on s . Befo t· e 1 •1e go t i nto muc h of the busine s s , PP Leo read a L et t er to th e Edi t or o f the As h ev i l l e-Ci t iz en Tim e s d a t ed May , 1978 whi c h b ea u t ifully se t ~ort h wh at a wo nd erfu l worl d we wou l d have if ev er ybo d y i n i t was as eC'-I me ni ca ll. y di s posed a s Out' t h e n "Unho ly Tht· ee" c o mposed of a P r-otesta n t Pr-o fessor· of 1•1 u s ic, a t·e t i r· ed Jewi s h Pawnbl'okel' , and a Cathol i c Pt• i est . And d id t h e y eve r· ma l<e bea u tiful mu sic 1: 0 \jl~ t h e t•? Th e l ettet· was sig n ed "Sy lv ia Fin l<elstein" and e xpt•e sse d tile tr· u e feelinys of ever•y on e of us • We s t i l 1 a t' e b l e s s e d b y h ~ v i n g a P r• o t e s t an t v i o 1 i n i s t , a Je wi s h p i a ni st , a nd a Ba p tist so ng le ade l' . ~Hl o f v1hom we appreciate a n d t h a n k . Lion Leo p1•ovided •Js 1-1i t h yet. a 1wtl1et' ll is tCJl' ic.:d l' epor· t , J. t e 11 d t o t 11 i n k t ll a t L i o " L f? o i s " o t t e 1 l i n g t h e c o mp 1 e I; e s t u r• y ~o-Jiten h e spea l<s o f Ti s l .arni ngo a nd l<l s . nnder·so n, ( lli s typiny teache1·> . Has anyone e l se noti ce d that L eo c ontends that h e h as had ma n y typing l ess o n s a n d has ma n aged to pe t· fect h is typing speed to a met'P. 3 121 1·1or· d s pet• mi n • .tte ??? H01-1 ma n y times have v1 e hea1· d a bo•.1t Room 35 a nd h as Lio n L (!O eve>l' pr•od u ced a photo of l•l s . nnd f!l 'S 0 11 ??? Le t' s pay be tte t' attentio n to vJh a t Lion Leo 1s n ot telli119 u s the next t i me ~o-1e get a Ms . And e t'SOn r'e p o · · t! ! ! . �L ~ on PP L e o once a g a i n e n l; e r·· I; a i n e cJ u u r' y t' u up 1·d t t 1 a 11 o t h !o! r l-l yste l' l ca l l'loment , t h i s ti me a bOllt J t.dy 11 , 1 9'+0 when the ~"l s h evi l le L i o n s Cl ub 1•1a s n a me d l; h e Lat' [!e s i; &· l•losi; Repr•ese nt al;ive of Civi c Cl tJb s in Asheville. Thi s d tJt' ing Li o n Rubet•t E . E~ l i s ' 19 39- 1 94121 pt·es id ents ter·m_ _ _ . Th e Hea lt l1 & Welfare report wa s give n by Li o n Father Bo b a n d we were sadde n ed to h ear that Lioness S y l via ha s taken a fa l l wi t h h er wa lk er and that L io n Helen S mith h as b een a t h o me with the Flu . Hope to see both of these beauti f ul ladies back i n the s wing Qf thin y s very soo n . Lion PP J oe P c-w son s J.ed tJs 1t1h il.e Li o n F•P Fi n~n,~ lstein p 1 a y e d f o t ' 1.1 s a nd IfI e s a n g i 11 f u 1 1 v o i c e < m i n u s L i o n .J o e 'S ullivan 1·1hom lfJ e missed ve t·y muc h) one ve t•se c.1 f Amet• ica and the No rth Caroli n a Lio n ' s So ng . ~~----------------- After enjoying a good meal - - as mo st of t h em ar e --we were t' o y a 1 1 y e n t e t' t a i n e d by L i o n L e o ' s " H y s t e t' i c a l M o me n t s " • L i on Leo brought bac k me rn o1· ies of As h evi lle High Scho ol when h e told abo tJt diffet•ent ones of tJ S who go ofe d of f a nd i mbi bed / s od as i n stead of meeti ng st udy ha l l , whi c h wo uld have do ne u s mtJch mo t·e goocJ . - - - ----·-- -------·· / Fot' t h e " H y 5 t e t' i c a 1 1'1 o men t " o f t o d a y , L i on L e o t' e mi n d e d '-' s t hat the wo t•d " Retit•ed" me a n s seve t• al no ' s inc luding in hi s wo t•d s , "no Thank s, Li on L eo , fir thi s remi nde r . It giv es quite a bit money ". for thought befor e more of us take that ste p. Kee p' em of f oo d co ming! Dut• ing Li on Leo ' s "Hy s tet• i ca l ttl o rn e nt s ," ~ti e le c:n·ned that dm·i n ~l l·JWI I in the j ungl e s , he experienced t h e prese n ce o f bugs wh ose s i ze you w 0 u 1 d n ' t b e 1 i e v e and 5 n a I<e s a ! 1>1a y s " at t h e t' e ad y " t o d o i n A me t' i ca n t r oops . We h ope s u c h nec essity n ever o cc u rs a g a in . t; h a t On f ut• l o tJgh in (- sheville a nd We5tet· n No1·t h Cat• oli n a , Li. on L eo felt ) he ~;1 as j n or· n ex l; "t el Heave n. Thet•e' •; n o di sse nting vote ft·o m a n y of u s ' S. E. H. P. S. Today ' s "H ys tet• .i ca l l' lo tn e n t " 1-Ja<; cl i s pen s 1~d \•lith in t he int e t•est of time . But lfle l oo l< fot•w.:n · t1 , Li.o n Leo , to ne xt week ' s hilari-ty . �ROAR EUll'ORS Sh e 1by IL llortou Editor lu C.:hi ef EtJ Shu rt s I'owe 11 Da 11 Uill Autl erso!l VOLUI'IE 11 ~~ &~heuiL~~ cyz.e_. THE WEEKLY BULLETIN OF THE LIONS CLUB 1 \JOVEMBE R 17, 1993 1 \JUMBER 2 TODAY'S MEETING wa s called to order by Lion President Bill Anderson in apt time after which Lion Barbara Browning led u s in the Pledge of Allegiance a nd Lio n Father Bob pro"ounced t h e Invocation . Our usual three : Lions Joe , Leo and Jack played and l ed u s in the singing of one verse of America and the North Cat•olina Lions ' Song . Felloi'J Lions, we don ' t know how thankful and how appreciative we ought to be for these fine musicians who contribute so much to our meetings . Ye Ed knows of no other club in our Di s trict which is so bles sed and we thank all three of them for their tale nt~.they so generously and effectively share with us: and we ~ re particularly grateful for their regularity a nd faithfulness . Thanks agai n to all three. l Autle r so!l ;- NovemiJet' ·~ . . .:·; \.•' 199:?; .... . . ·', ... , -~ ·J .. ./ "...._ _:;.tr ,, ~ I . .....__ ~ The regu l ar W~dnesd ay me e ting of The Asheville Lions Club ~as calle d to order by Lion President William R. Anderson at 12 : 01. The Pledge of Allegiance was given by our new est Lion S tan Liberman <More About Lion Sta n Later). Invocation wa s L .i. o n Sect' e t at' y J o e S u 1 1 i v an a i d e d g i v en b y L i o n Fat h e t' Bo b . b y t h e n11. 1s i c a 1 on e <L i. o n L e o > , l e d 1.1 s i n s i n g i n g Am e t' i c a and the Lio n s So ng. Lion Leo g ave u s so me more ar my stories . He told us of h is furloug h home, hi s overseas tra ining and having to learn a new languag e . Lion Joe S ullivan suggested Lion L eo may have been in the WAC . As us,Jal it I'Ja_ _amusi n g and nostalgic . s ·-=-- - - - - '• �Today ' s meetiny was hiyhly improved and intensified by t h e pt• esence of t h e S a n c l: imonio•.t s Se ven <min•.t s PP Leo, 1--1hose perf or ming at the po c ket piano was s orely miss ed) composed , this time, of Li.ons a nd l' ut• met' L.i o n s : Ft·it z and D<.w e Albet·tson, Shet•if·f (and PP> Lion Ch .:n • l e y Lo ng, Lion Bob flloot·e, PDG Rt?d Hoyl e and PDG Lion Jac l< Cole who dit•ected the Band and led us in pl aying and s i.nying so tne tt•adi.tional carols and other Christma s songs . The Sanctimonious S even (thi s time five) dedi c ated to tile memot' Y o f Lion r-athet' Ne a gle "I' 111 Fo1· evet' Blov1ing Bu b bl es ," 1 ·1hicl1 they played <.~ nd sa ng with muc h yu s to . / Lion P r e side n t B ill cJi c1 s h o 1--1 up du r ing so me of the open i ng ex er c i s e s , whi c h c on sis t ed p r im r.n · il y of oo.n· s inging acap e .lla the • •.tal two s ong s und e t' th e dit•ectio n of L. i on Joe Pat•s on s . .ts ~)nd it was Ye Ed' s p r i v ileg e a ~ a in to s t a nd bes id e ~ ion J oe S ullivan , who a l1-1a y· s mit•ac ul oLt s ly m a n a ~1 e s to l<eep me s ome~~ h e t· c ne a t' on key. Ne edle ss to s ay , Li o n s Leo a nd Jac k and their musical instrument s we re s o r ely mi ss ed. LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMEMTS were dedicated to some of the time that he spent in Vietnam . He said that American soldiers weren't bother e d very much , if any, with rats : they could n' t live in t h at climate . He also told us t hat demon st t·ation s and iJt'Ait:: ti c~ with g as masl~s t'eminded h im of different brand s and flavors of whiskey regardless of the set·io•.tsness of th e tt·a ining. That ' s one way , Li o n Leo , of c ondoning some of th e a s pe c t s of s o ld ier ing. Le t ' s hope that none of us or any o f tho se c oming after u s will be subjected to such tt· ai ning; but, if s o, let's also hope that it 1--1il l be taken i n stride as you did and the same kind of humor will be e >< pet' i e n c e d . ----VOLUt'lE 1 JANUARY 12 , 199LI 1\IUMBE I< 2 •' TODAY'S MEETING was ca ll ed to o r de r c l ose to a p t t im e by our Fearl ess Leader , Lio n President R ill . The Pl e d o e of Al l e 9 ia n c e was l e d b y Lion Ann Rice a nd th e I n vocati o n ~·1 as pt• onounced by Lion J. 1.-J. Ki ble r a fte r wh ich we sa ng Ame r i ca a nd th e No r t h Car ol ina Lions' S ong l e d b y L i o n J o e a nd a cc om pa ni e d b y L i o n L eo a t th e po c ket p iano. Wel c om e b ac l<, Lion Leo, 1·1 e mi ssed you te t' t' ibly and a~ways s ing muc h c lo set' to " o n l<e y " wi t h yo • at th e keybo at' d. J 1.-Je m1sse~ Li o n J a cl< a nd hi s violi n t o d ay ; b u t , h opeful l y , a ll of you m•.ts1c1ans 1--1i ll be bac l< a nd in fin e fe t tle next wee l<. L. Leo r ep orted on hi s la und r y activity during WWII . Lion Leo lOn · t e a n in t et•es t ing Lion. We sLwe do look forwat~d to appeat•s to be qu~ k Th a nk y oll f at' s hat• ing a part of you t' life with your re p o r ts eac we e . · us . �Lio n Leo gav e u s ye-t a nother of hi s t' eports ft• om the Gt~and ole' past. This one yave us insjght i nt o t h e weapon known a s the S aturday Night S pec i a l . Thank you a g ai n Lion Leo for ta king your ti me to ente rta in our c lub eac h week . Lion leo gave us a neat p r ogra• today on the cost of ice crea• during WWI. He said after paying $19.75 a gallon for ice cream back in WWI, then today's ice cream prices were alot better, but after he did alot of calculations he figured the actual cost of Crem de le Crem was only 7.5~ cents per gallon. _ Thank you Lion Leo fo ~ your Hilarious Hyster~.c.t1"1 Moll!en~. ....• .~------------------~ LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENT wa s an outstan ding st·ory of the World War II specific area. Good job Lion Leo for the outstanding story. During hi s "Hyste t' i ca l Moments" Lion Leo kept u s in stitches telling of his many amusing expet•iences wi th Ins dog SEX . You can remembet' them be ttet' than I; but they wet~e all a s "funny as a Ct' utch". Keep 'em coming Lion Leo, they brighten ou ~ d ay a~ does your and Lion Jack and Joe's accompaniment in so ng-leading. - - - -------- - (ion pp Leo Finkel stei n again had us i n stitches as he ~ead _ in poet ry <?> fr om some letters he had sent back from his military dut1es 1n and around Asia. This during his "Hyster ical Moment s ." giving us so much to laugh at and ~ .j~~ · Thanks, Li o n Leo, for . " L Finkelstein b ra gged about I n hi s "Hystet' lca l ~1oments ' Lion eo d th U S Air Force . e • • f u 1 cooper ation between th e U. S t Navy an pe rsonal way of life the wonder . , in his d ut' ing WWII and the tremendous 1m~t ovemen , " as a result of having recei ved a Navy Mattress. Lion Leo mentioned more n a ~e s ; in Naval Su pplies. Con~ratu lat~on s, r eminding us of good th1ngs s ue as J LION l b t h h d a t least one good friend u _ e Le: and keep if you will, t~::nhapp~ning ev~n' in time of war. LEO'S "Hyst e t•ical Moment c;; " will be heat•d next we ek in the interest o f time. �27 , LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENT consisted of <•ostly unkind) words about dehydrated elements that we put in our sto•achs after mixing with water during WWII. Among other things Lion Leo told us that dehydrated le•onade could well serve as battery acid. Several of us concur. Thanks, Leo, and please continue to brighten our meetings with your "Hysterical Moments". ----------------------------~ ' Lion PP Leo t~e ad us a ·letteor ft~oll WWII about his Ait~ Force latrine. Although it sounded luxurious by G.I. standard s , it was s o infested by insects and spiders that Leo couldn't enjoy his customary quiet time to read the paper. Lion PP Leo read us a lett e r from t he South Pacific written during WWII i ndi cati na how h e was ab l e to influence the l oc al electi on fo r chief by \ q ood old ~merican e n terprise. Lioh Bill introduced his quest Matt Bradley. We are delighted to have Lioness Sheila Douglas back with us and pray that her h~aling continues. Li o n Father Bob reported that Lion PP Powell Bal l is back at St . Joseph's in roo~ 906. We solicit continued praye rs for his health. The annual installation of officers for next year will be held on June 22, 1994, at the r egt1lar meeting. Lion DG Dave Butler will preside. Please make plans to attend and gi v e Lion Bill or the Clinic a head count. Lion PDG Jack Cole urged each of us to give (or pledge> Direct your check to Lion Treasurer Ra y Joiner. Th e campaign's goal is $146.00 pet~ membet·. ~o Campaign Sight First this month. ,.. .. . . l.&...,. TODAY'S MEETING was ca lled to orde r by Lion Presid~nt Bill at the usual time. The Pledge o f Allegiance was led b y Bev Watson and the Invocation pronounced b y Lion Father Bob. We sang the usual two songs as led by Lio ns Joe and Jack. We really missed Lion PP Leo in this regard and hope that he can arrange his s c hed ule to be with us at the regular meetings. LION LEO'S HYSTERI~AL MOMENTS: Took us back to the Asiatic Theater and how the military trained and honed recruits into real Soldfers, Sailer s, and Marines. But, from discussions around poker tables and other gaming devices, none of them lost their individual American independence and true patriotism. Nor did Lion Leo ever l o se his wonderful humor and gift of saying so even though now he spends his time between his home and the Summit, where Liones s Sylvia is confined to bed. �PP LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS consisted of one of his letters to Sylvia in which he could not tell her exactly what he was doing or where he was. But she and home were greatly mis sed by t h at particular GI in the pacific. Lion Leo also told us about a group of Asheville High S chool students, including himself and our departed Lion Joe Ster nb erg in a Marmon automobile in which a good time was had by all. They drove to the fo~t of Mt . Pisgah wh ere they enjoyed <?> "yams and 'po ss um". Lion Leo entertained us with several more letters from the WWI I et'a. His new addt•ess i s : Leo Finkelstein The Su mmit Alt218 Asheville, NC 28805 .Phone : 299-Lt883 Lion PP Le o read a WWII letter about how he survived R&R with Ms. Anderson at the Payne Hotel . The jury is waiting for Part II of the episode. LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS c onsisted of his re a ding a l etter from a WWI mo the r to her overseas son in vJhich, among oth e r· thing s , s he s tated "The Cole f a mily acro s s the ridg e had a baby boy, whom they named Jacl< . " Lion Leo r• e a d a let te t' wt• it te n to him by a c lose ft• iend in 19 5 b to pay a debt incurre d in 192 1 involving NC b as ke tba ll. The c he c k was written for $1 . 35 with in teres t compounded a t 6 ~ annu a lly . <8 u n d a y > A. C • T • 9- 11 played, ~'J C'\ ro o ·- Leo I~"Y I10 a o · d r.,., , I :< t' - r= ~ nl<el~te t n , Eie•;er· J y G~or·ge - G •.d 1 d , 1=-' IJG .J. l-1. 1 tddl t ! - ) G F . -:•r. Dt' l l fil :.>- l~ .:·l: ~ oto, f<e d Hoy 1 e Jac l< Cc,J e l'! at ro E: ~·I S A 1- t•eewill co l lectJ!•n r· l ·1 ' '9 . 00 the f i v e L i on s ~·1 as given t o b~,nd . \Thet•e v1as appt' o><imately 7 0 )1!-l> (.lt~ attP. n rJon g. 9-20 <Tues> Cresentview Manor <Lutheridye> 7 Lions played: : 1 ~. ,, 1 ~. •" '/ LH:·•c:\ o ··.J- : t)J i •l.'-'. ·- t. I f . : ~ .. l ! :: ; f-\t?v I·Jatsn 1o, B.:to S l<t llm a n, :l·J.:H. Ioll uc< t··tl - S J-o£:1' 1 f·r I ' J : I\ I t' I I b •llt a t··l.: ll1·l l e Lllao' l 1 e l • I • I • ' f:, F-O r'~Je 1. = ~~ ~~~ 1•1 ol: ro e vi S . l c.\cl..: ~o l e �Lion PP Leo t' ead liS sever• 1 written prior to High ~chool a poe~s f~om his notebook poems exposed hidden talent g~ad~latlon ln 1921. The career choice kept him off ~h tV ls t~o bad that Leo's • _ e audev1lle circuit. Lion Leo's Hysterical Moments consisted of some very amusing poems that he composed while a student at Asheville High School back in the early 1920s. His Thanatopsis to Algebra was most fitting; especially to those of us who struggled so unsuccessfully with that subject. Keep bringing these gems to us, Lion Leo. They brighten our meetings beyond measure • . . Lion PP Leo's "Hysterical Momemts" this ti wer~ ~o~e amusing recolle ct ions of youthful me actlvltles in the Asheville High School of 192~ Ke~p 'em co ming, Lion Leo. They continue to c . br1ghten our day. Lion President Ann reminded PP Lion Leo that he owes us two Hysterical Moments, one of which he disch~rged today telling about his typing teacher, Miss Anderson, of Tishomingo, Oklahoma and the fact that she had the pleasure of enjoying the only private bathroom in Tishomingo. This was in Tishomingo's only hotel and was not far from the dining area that also served for linen and storage and a place for lumber. Under Miss Anderson's tutelage, Lio~ Leo ' got up to 30 words per minute on the typewriter. Good gain', Leo and keep'em comin'. L i on Leo' s "H y s t e t• i c a 1 Moment " co ns i s t e d o f h i s r e co'-'" t i n g an eKper ience occa sioned by his having so ld a Saturday Night Special to a doctor' who pt•oceeded to take it home wher e he shot himself. ~t l~ast he didn't do it in the courthouse, Thank Goodness. Lion PP Leo reported a recent occurance at the Ashwood Apartments of the Su•mit retirement home which resembles an Alfred Hitchcock movie. We are still trying to figure out who was under the bed. He also t'eported the formula for ",jungle juice" developed during WWII ~hie~ led to marketing of speculative gold mine stock. Thanks Leo. Don't get caught. 2f �Lion Leo'~ "Hysterical Moments" consisted of some of his poignant 111emories of WWII. He told about "Waiting in Lines" and timed various activities: some in minutes and some in seconds. But Lion Leo said that while he was in the Service it took a :ull ·sundC\y to t'ecuperate from the Saturday night before. L1on Leo closed by reading to us a copy of a letter he wrote to "Dear Mom" in which he expressed the tremendous contrast we all experienced between home and the military. He spoke for all of us when he expressed to his mom love and a deep appreciation for the many good things she did for hi~ that so easily ca111e to mind to one particular soldier. . &. Lion Leo gav~ . det4iled instructions on taking a bath out of a helment during WWII. His instructions were somewhat vague but he declined a generous offer to demonstrate the technique at a later •eeting. Too bad, he could qualify for a ~uppor~ . role on NVPD Blue. Leo's Hysterical Moments consisted of a detailed description of Christmas in 1943 on Guadalcanal among Lion Leo and several Gis engaged in conquering the Japanese. Mail call at that particular time was usually very heavy--even for Lion Leo, who had requested no 111ail Ot' gi'f·cs. B•..1t he wcas loaded tou. The Asheville Lions Club's then secretary <who later beca•e a District Governor> Lion Wesley Brown sent Lion Leo a box of eggs in the middle of which was a can of beans, which Lion Leo hid in his gas mask without opening until his birthday many moons away at which time he discovered in the can among some cotton batting two ounces of good bottled in bond whiskey. That had to be the finest can of beans Lion Leo ever opened. Keep' em coming, Lion Leo. We all 1 ove' em. -PP Ll0n L~o put u~ in became obvious to him that ~ prior to WWII. Keep th ~ se l Lion Leo; we love them and ~·---- - ..- - -···-- atitche~ ov~~ th~ fact that it he would not make Sergeant Hysterical Moments coming, we love you. Shortly thereafter, PDG Jim Parker presented and PDGs Jack Cole and Your Truly pinned Melvin Jones Awards (about as high as you can get in Lionis•> upon Lions Leo Finkelstein and Joe Parsons. This honor is well deserved by both of them and as ti111e goes on others of the Club will be so signally honored. Congratulations to both of o~r new Melvin Jones Fellows. Keep on keepin' on. I .\ �3J LION LEO' S "HYSTERICAL MOMENTS" consisted of a quote from the As heville Citizen-Times repeating and extolling Lion Leo's classic poem written from the South Seas during WWII in which Lion Leo expt•essed ovet• and over " I :· W na Go Home " and he gave many good t•easons therefot·. an All of u s , if we could, would h av e joined in that t' e f t' a i n • A g a i n , o u t' t h an k s , L i o n L e o , and k e e p tl p t h e good work . Ye Ed is convinced t hat belly laughs are " good for the s oul" . Hi storica l Report: As usual L i o n L eo k eeps u s in stitch es with hi s letters to t he c lub from WWII~ Thank you L ion Leo for s h ari ng a p art of yo ur l1fe w i th u s. -ACllVl TY REPORT ASHEVILLE LIONS CLUB BAND "THE SANCTIMONIOUS SEVEN" DATE : Fe l:w • .t <.~t' Y 2lt, 1-:19::5 7 :00p m 1.-JHI-:: RE : n- e b o mi t D i n in!] f<t• om , .tlil L i o n I . e o j-:" i n I~ 1: 1 s t e i n an d I" o 1 l n vJ i n !J p 1 a ;• e c1 f o t ' o n e ht>Ut' c.\ nd .=2:1.!) m Ln •.rt es f ot• a 1'1 a t•rl i f:~t•as p a t· y. ~·· 1.-" y i n !] : J. I eo Fi n l<£!lstei n, ..:: • .J . L1 . 5. 6• 7. 8. B ,... ., e t' l y B• 1 -•iano H at s tl n , r-< o 1 an d E1 .,.7 ni !J .1 t a l I·' 1 a lH• S l<i Uman , Vio l a Ln.:n· l es 11. L ong , l•l as h Bo a r•d J. l·l. "f~ecJ " Hoyl e , h ·i.s h ~.:l o clbl'<m l)t• urn H L 1 I. , ) " J e t' s o li , D.,., u m . 1 o h n 1'1a t t h e t·Js , G • 1 1. t .:n· 1 • .Jac l< Co l e, Ft ol rl l l~ -= l:.le tl The l•< ty t·J21s :n• ::i llll C II, ;:.-n· t· a nued I >;' I 1on I e o t·Ji t t1 J~nni. fe r· n,; c ·o• t:_,\, l () I) D lo ' t: c l; t)\. I I (I l l l..en t·J~11) I •Jl 11 IJ ~: ':) 1 /.1 yea1·· s old J otne ~.:: 0th, ~·J i.th h is p la n o lt..·a di T orJ the band rl a y ~~ cl mo s l. a 1 1 o f t h e s o n o ~ r ·1 a y a .i r, '' e t' 1 1, e y e :n · s ; ·· hy \.to e u c:ontl. t•I C:t ro y cd ' t iH! i _,~. td !! lo Cc a l;\,o=T od lloU \·J e l·' e tntl S t c n m ~J illltL: nt a~·y a nd ent l-o•.t Sl -'.'I St l•c 1n appr' ec i ._~1;lon nf t i H~ b And' s ~~ t ;t:ertain m e n ·t. Refr•es t1111ents wer•e ser·· ved and Lion Leo v1as pt• esented a $1tltl7l .t!.10 c h Pc lc fot ' t h e l1and' s pet' fot• ma n ce by troe S u111 mi t C<, l iJCor'ation , a t1cl tllo' l o!• d o v e r' to L1o n B e •Jt>l' Ly 1.-J.::d :L IIlo fo l ' dero s il. in t:,a tld :1I' C<J •.tnt . Lion Leo aga in l<ept us in st i tc he s t•ec ot.tn t i ng a dv entu re s i n the So uth Pacific during WW II . He stated that letters to a nd from him were real morale builder s . But the Ce n s o r kept mes si ng u p the letters b y taking o ut of them any pat•t tt1at he didn ' t lil<e O t ' did not a gt•ee with . �F Jack Cole 73 Ev~lyn PI Asheville NC 28801 J3 a.ckJ/¥ b 7t'c;lnt:,n,a_;/L 0 :::: 7,~-tt? /!!k-9-AJ'D rk!omt Tift: j=::(/~/'hc::-~ IN A-I A-;./1-eJ:Vj L.__ Lt= I '' [II£" 50)}M1!T; N_ c::::,. p /W<. T oc V A-. /1-t:YCIJil'A-L, 0-rC:=~H ~ !J/N/.N'c- P,t../J.y,Nc- b:. 4-s- A- D.J> ~~e-'9> c-o~ Es- A'~ v.4R'/ 7-1- -.......JI~-L:..:...::::.;=...z..!...i=:~;:,___.~C~~t:..O/ ~ J/11C'Af /Ol 'S S E"Vc:/Y ~ f3ecvf::.., .A<~ .0r9-IE 6 JJhQct: A-tCt.~'l-1 711-~ ~..A(C i ~tO;?") i T1 mt: WE W' IL-L· srrJ.I~T 7P'ocPIJJ 11 fll E c rc AN.D ~/".it?UL.f) A-1'21~1 V€. ~ e:y- L) P .. A-T - �I / 1 t 1 f 1 Lion 1)1= Le o t•ead a h1s t ot~ 1 cal n ofe 1n h1s0l.ary about a p reacher who pawn ed his Bible at Leo ' s sho p every Monday duri n g the Great Oepre ss io~ f o r $10. Every Thursday he bought it back for $11 . F inally after Leo recovered his 'capital ' , he let the preacher k eep his Bibl e a nd just passed the $10 back and fort h. Lion Leo gave a one par a g ra ph preview of next week ' s t isttorictal mo m~nt . h It c on c erns hi s a lternative solutio n o s r~ee · - ~J C.\ nng as opposed to that u s ed by the As h evi ll e poli ce in 1qq2 . 11 ~ - Lion Leo's Hysterical Moments c onsisted of a ~ description of a trip he and Police Lt. Frank Hagen mad~ ~ to Charleston, South Carolina several years ago. They had heard of "Queen Elizabeth" and her group of "girls" who occupied a brothel knownas •Red Brick" and proceeded to visit same. Each of Queen Elizabeth's "employees" had a health certificate hanging in her room and there were different prices for different services. According to Lion Leo, he and Lt. Hagen requested and paid for the ~ery . minimal in services; but, apparently, each swore the other to secrecy and Lion Leo at the conclusion of his dissertation stated that he would •answer no questions". As with so many of Lion Leo ' s experiences, •those were good ole days•. Thank you, Lion Leo, for sharing with us so many amusing and memorable occasions as undergone by you--sometimes in the company of others. You always manage to keep us and any visitors in stitches. Don't ever let up. TODAYS PROGRAM was i nt.rnnur.Pn hv l i n n PP P~,, Lion Leo Finkel s t ei n's HYSTERICAL MOMENTS re minded us of the time when L io n Joe S t ernberg' s fa the r invited a Anot he r g rou p of friends t o hi s hom e to play po ke r . friend who may or ma y n ot have been invited turned them in and the gam e was ra ided by APD . When the of fic e r took down name s, he later l earned that Mr. Sternbe rg h a d gi ven him s pecif ic n a~es , all of which began with t he fir st eight l etters of the He brew a lph a bet. It is doubtful that any of these f ictitious persons ever showe d up for a court appearan ce . PLEASE NOTE: In t he course of his remarks Lion Rick Eaton suggested that we begin no\<~, as individuals, to make plans to par ti cipate in encouraging and he lping boys a nd git•ls of grade s 3-5 to "bm•geon out the best th at in them is" an d r•emain in sch oo l a n d out of tt·ouble . Ye Ed can think of no more worthwhile project . Today Lion Leo answered one of the questions that P. S. arose l ast week about " Quee n Elizabeth ' s Git· ls" . He a nd Officer Hagen ~let•e in t he " Red Bri c k" for "informat ion" / on 1 y . See you next week . S . E .H. '"'- ....... - '" - ..... - -- ' 33 �·· - ,, __ ... ., Lion PP Leo Finkelstein, club historian, read from a 1920 edition of the Asheville High paper. It mentioned his participation i ·n the Dixie Jazz Band and contained one of his poems about the band. Then he read from a 1981 edition of . the ·Asheville Times about the class's 50th reunion. Memories of the Jazz Band were still fresh as well as the fact that Leo was one of the lucky few to have a car back in those high school days. Our Sanctimonious Seven was well known about town even back in 1981. Next week Leo tells of "The Love Life of a Soldier in WWII". D~ - "U..L \..IIC" WTt:: 1 ' \J..I...t.JI..I..'-'• LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS consisted of two parts, one of which was--as usual--very funny. The other ~ndicated that within the past several days a lady at the Summit Retirement Center sang to the accompaniment o1 Leo's rendition on the piano of "How Much Is That Doggie i ~n The Window". When her husband commented to Lion Leo ~hat she had been through the years a wonderful musician; but this was the first time that he <her husband) had ~ heard her sing in years. Lion Leo stated that he is now 1 eternally grateful for his mother's having insisted on his practicing on the piano at least one hour per day I during his childhood. After that, Lion Leo stated that his lovely wife, }. Sylvia, suffering from Parkinson's told him that he, Leo, had an affair with a nurse and same was bruited about r among conversationalists and the media. But all of Leo's . sincere and painstaking efforts to ascertain the name of the nurse were to no avail. Tough luck, Lion Leo, but we I add our congratulations for having been so a·ccused. Keep comin'. ~~ ' ~~---'P1R1&1r"~S=f>'RI IAR~ II 'r was 1 n+ rn i'tn~as>'f k u • ~ ... ~ o--~ 4 .. - X • LION LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS: As promised, Lion Leo reported on "The love lif• of a GI du r ing WWII." Lion Leo mentioned, during a date 1 •weather"; Li on Stan Lieberman, apparently somewhat befuddled, wondered out loud if Leo didn't mean "whether ' or not" . It is presumed that his partner of the opposit~ sex may have had an answer. Considering all of the circumstances of being 3/4 of the circumference of the Earth away from home, it ia no wonder that Lion Leo and his cohorts kept singing the song with the refrain "I Wanna Go Home". ----···--I mo~ion passed. Lion PP Leo reminisced receiv he could listen to Tokyo R ing a radio overseas so nev~r worked proper! untiose during WWII . The radio the table. After th~t th 1She accidently knocked it off Leo as back-up for diffic:ltquadron Commander assigned you haven't lost your touch L:!~ctronic repairs. Hope L 1 -l - - D -- -~ • . �// LION PP LEO'S HYSTERICAL MOMENTS co~sisted ~f an expose' of one "Smokey Joe", a mess sergeant with Lion Leo in the Pacific Theatr e . As Lion Leo stated "It pays to be on / the good side of an army cook" . Nothing in Leo ' s , Hysterical Moments ever indicated that he or any of his buddies ever suffered from malnourishment. It seems--to ' say the least--that Smokey J oe was 3 good friend to have 1 and once told Lion Leo that he wanted to go home to see his wife and new baby. Lion Leo replied with the universal phrase "I just wanna go home". Lion PDG Jack Cole presented information as to the activities of the Sanctimonious Seven, our splendid band will be extended a special invitation to our annual PATRIOTIC PROGRAM, which will be featured at our June 28 meeting. Hopefully, the band will give mus~cal emphasis to Yours Tr uly ' s pro and con remarks pertinent to the status of PATRIOTISM IN OUR GREAT COUNTRY. The Band's last appearance was at Greentree Ridge Rest Home on Sweeten Creek Road where they were most cordially received and sincerely invited back. Members of the Band who were present: Leo, Beverly, Bill Anderson, "Red" Hoyle, John Matthews and Jack Cole. Absent were: Charlie Long, recovering from a staph infection, Bob Moore <a mashed little finger prevented his playing the banjo> and Ben Skillman, who had a conflict. ---- t ~·--- The scheduled speaker ca ncelled but Lio n PP Leo was able to fill in with ~mp romptu read ings fro m hi s historical records . He started wit h t h e M iss An derso n episode but agai n did not take us beyond h er private quarters . He digressed into the miseries and comforts of w W II . He finished with a poem ti t l e d " A Dog Na me d Sex ". The club was hig h l y a mused and we passed the 1 : 00 p . m. adjournment without even rea lizing it. See you next week . E. L. ·s. ---- - S inc e o ur gqe st and s I nu r se s , Lion L e o-s et th tp e a {er were both r e giste r ed e one of the meet ing b t 11 " us of Medical T t~ eatment that h , . . y e lng severa l do c tors for a n unspeci;i::c: l ved ln 1933 from treatment wa s fini s hed L a lady. By the time emotionall y , a nd f i n an~iaeo was exhau. s~ed ph ys ical ly, lly. The audie n ce a gt•eed th-"'t _ nothing h as c h a ng e d. ___ "' ~---- .... .. I �36 \' Lion VP Ed dismissed us with best wishes for good health and happiness among all . We thank all concerned for an interesting program and for what is being done to make Asheville and Buncombe County better places in which to live; but there is one area wherein all of us are usually blest-but today was an exception--and that is in the person and tremendous good humor of Lion PP Leo Finkelstein and his •Hysterical Moments". Better luck next week when we hope Lion Leo will again make our meeting and our day so highly enjoyable by his wit and good humor . See you next week . S. E. H. Les t Ye Ed f o rget s , Li on PP Leo' s Hys ter i c al M ments o co n siste d of th o ught s be f ore WWII and though t s dur i ng a nd /or a ft er that event. Among other things, Lion Leo stated t h at be fo r e WWI I he was not v ery religious, but d uri ng i t h e prayed for a f u r l o ugh and wa s granted mo re in t h at he came t h rou g h the Pacif i c Theater pr etty much un scathed. Keep ' em c o ming ' , Le o , they br ighten every meetin g. The meeti ng was a d jou r n ed with thanks and good wish es to all. Today ' s meet i ng was wi t hou t a formal progr am, but / time was we ll spen t i n t h at Li on Le o 's Hysteri cal Moments were extended a little be y o nd the u s ual and really had us \ in stitches especially when PP Leo saw his name change in the Pa cific Theater d u ring WWII Fr om "Leo the Hero " t o "Foxh ole Fi~kelstei n " as a r e s ult of hi s hav ing buried himself in cin e during a Japan ese a ttac k i mmediately after h avi n g had a refresh i n g s h o wer. It is a t r emendous contribution to our meeting to rece ive such wo nde.r ful i n formatio n from t h e "H o r se ' s mouth" . Keep 'em d omin' Lion Leo; they add so much t o the Ashe ville Club' s enjoy ment of its regul ar meet i n gs . Ye Ed wi s hes that all Li o n s had such a privilege. Ag ain, f e llo w Lions, we have much to appreciate e nd to be t h a nk f ul f o r . Let ' s do whet we can to bring in ne w members end vis ito rs to enjoy with �Lion PP Leo showed us the original composit i on of our Lions Song published in 1941 by two blind musi c ians. J. Marshall Pakham wrote the words and Alice Evelyn Morris the music. Leo reported that they married each other and lived happily ever after. ------ 37 ·. .. llOAR I} 4) I H?'lll,II ~- =· ·, .(,_f/]. '~. -, L ' -- ~.•«,1 VOLUME 7 JULY 19, 1995 NUMBER 3 TODAYS MEETING was called to order by Lion President Ed Krause at approximately 12:00 noon. After the Pledge of Allegiance, J.W. Kibler pronounced the Invocation and we then sang one verse of America and the North-carolina Lions' Song led by Lion Joe accompanied by Lions Bev and Jack. We then were informed that the Sanctimonious Seven have now become the Sanctimonious Nine, all of whom are expert with their various musical instruments. On June 28, 1995, many of this group played patriotic tunes as requested by Ye Ed in conjunction with his annual Patriotic dissertation. All concerned were deeply grateful for this and other wonderful appearances by this great band. On that occasion the keyboardist was--as on so many occasions-- Ef_k~o Finkelstein w~se 90th bir ! h ~~~-~ ~cele~rated on June 20, 1995. Many h.?PPY return!lr. Lion Leo . On July 14, the Sanctimonious Nine were in concert at the Marjorie McCune Home for o ne hour at the conclusion of which was sung "Amazing Grace". Welcomed to the group were two of the residents who sang a duet and co ntributed beautifully to the last hymn. PDG Red Hoyle participated with the band and his wife, Christine, was in the audience. On that occasion the following co n stituted said Sanctimonious Seven: Lion PP Leo £~~~~~ a~o; Lion Beverly Watson, Yamaha' keyboard; PP Bill Anderson , drums; PDG Red Hoyle, Irish Bodhrans drum; PP Charlie Long, washboard; his son Michael Long, banj o; Noell Beckman, dulcimer; PDG F. Jack Cole, fiddle; PP Bill Anderson's daughter gave him assistance with the drums; and John Matthews, guitar. We thank Joan Hyatt for arranging this program; and on behalf of the residents of the Marjorie McCune Home we thank all of the San ctimonious Nine for their wonderful contribution to the quality of life not only of the residents but also the many others enjo ying their talented and friendly performanc~s .:.. ____ - - - - - - - - - -- - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - �of Allegian c e while Lion PDG Jim Pat~ ker offet~ed the Invocation. Lion PP Joe Sullivan led the singing (in the absence of Lion Secretary Joe Parsons> accompanied by Lions Jack and Bev. Lion Jim Parker introduced his son Darrell who is past-president of t~ock Hill Lions Club in South Carolina. Dart•ell p,icked the winning t•affle tic!iJ!t claimed by Lio-~ Leo. - .....~-..~ · ···· ....H, .. _... · ··Lion Rick Eaton reported encouraging progress by the Golf Committee . Members are actively soliciting sponsors and players. Remember that the Tournament is Wednesday, August 1&, at the Grove Park Inn Country Club Golf Course. The rPgu lar meeting will be held at the Golf Course. Our own DG Guy Penland thanked the Club fo~ their anticipated attendance at the District 31-A Lions Cabinet Installation. About thirty have bought tickets. The Club pledges full support for Lion Guy's task as District Governor thi s year . Lion J.W. Kibler questioned the propriety of an ad in the July issue of ."The Lion." It advertised: that the new f't1irage 71210 radat~ .dete o: tot· makes one 's car "invisible" to police radar. A spirited discussion followed concet~ning t he mot•a lity vs. economics of the issue. A resolution will be drafted for the Club's attention next week. Program Ch airman Lion Rick introduce d Lion PP Ann Ri ce as out• speal{et'. Lion Ann pt•esented awat•ds " F~t· Out s tanding Set~vice and Devotion to Lionism, 1994-95." Th ose receiving awards wer e : Karen Torrence J.W. Kibler Steve Stelzer Joe Sullivan Brad Pippinger Dave Perkins Jim Phillips Shelby Horton Ed Shurts Jim Parker Joe Parsons Guy Penland Stan Lieberman Ray Joiner Rick Eato n Leo Finkelstein oe Gu'rlotta· ' Jim Dutton Jack Cole Bev Watson Bruce Hunter Charlie Miller Lion Ann presented a verba l s ummary of each person's service wit h the a ward. Ann ha s a real personal touc h wh ich create s bonding within the c lub. We ap pr eciate all the more h er serv i ce as Presi d e nt l as t year a nd her c ontinuing pre se n ce with u s . See you next week! E. L. S. Dates to Re~ember: Re gul ar meeting of the Asheville Li o n' s Clu b o n Wedne s d ay , August 2 nd at 11 : 3121 a .m. There wi ll be a fo llow-up Auction for E liada Home on Saturday , October 7 , 1995 . J ~ �wno pat'1: I""C'I"'pC\1.. --e-rr:-~-----· . Lion Leo's Hysterical Moments consisted of an explanation of some of the City of Asheville's water and sewer problems <where have we heard this expression before?) in 1922. Lion Leo, as always, had a tet•rific grasp of the amuiing lacts surrounding that situation. And he was kind e'nough to share them with us as we 11 as some physical problems that he was having at about the same time. Lion Leo had doctors one and two and Doctor two was very important to the patient; because he happened to have what Lion Leo t•efet•t• ed to as a "roto-rooter". At any rate, at whatever cost financially and from the standpoint of pain and suffering Leo snapped out of it and, as you know, was at today's meeting to show for it. Keep'em comin', Leo; we enjoy your Hysterical Moments as much as some enjoyed hearing about OJ's recent acquisition of a special commuting limousine that he guaranteed to deliver every customer with "time to kill." I { ' 1 ~ 1 f 1 ~ __ THF I-IFOI TI-l 01\tn 1.tc-1 r::-f\C>.C.--0~"'=-----"--'--'-'----'--"~_., - Lion Leo shared a historical moment with us by reading a letter that he wrote to the club right after WWII. He extolled the virtues of Asheville which he appreciated all the more after returning from overseas combat. We all share Leo's enthusiasm for Asheville which is home to many of us now. \l --- \ there• f h' During the meal L.ion Lleo brought ~IS . some more o 1S "H sterical Moments". This time desct•1b1ng the snakes an~ dogs that occupied a tent floor during WWI~. And Leo swears and be durned that he had not had anyth1ng to drink since arriving at that particular ba~tle a~ea. No hether or not to bel1eve L1on Leo. vote was taken as t o W _ .. -~-...~ ; _ __ , _ ...___,~,._ _ 1 said that Bill Williams, a . Lion PDG Jack Cole S h timonius Seven, ha d d 1e d dedicated member of t e a:~ment of silence. Lion Jack recently. He ~equ~ste=oafor his support of the band from then thanked L1on PP L I s the "Unholy Six". . · when it was cnown a • the be~1nnlng • d humorous letter from WW2 about L1on Leo then tea a 1 Ch ' f le • : d the election of the loca how he 1n f 1 u en c e t:wu:u:ll.ex··:...,...._pi.\:.Cl.g.:t::.aUD-...L.rulLl:!~M~----;t-' -~--- ~ ~- L---;~ ~ Hystericai ~oments"-consisted of an ' s L1on . eo · · ' . o f "Ret it•ement L1v1ng, " which he intt·oduct1on t~ u~ old y ars" (sounds like Lion Leo 1s-: des cri bes as h1S Go e~ e. . · · The S1~mtn1 1 1V 1 ng in ~ - t ) • enjoy1ng L ·. PDG Jack Cole for faithf1.1lly We are indebt e~ -to LlOn . . l . Leo to o•n· meet 1ngs. bt• inging _1 on . L ' · PP Dt• Joe Schandler gave him l a Lion Leo sa1d •1on . . " d h I / • " I co•.tld see better an e 0 new p ait" of gl~~se s - ~ "so I could hear better·." He ~o~ obtained a heat 1ng a1ft hoes "so I could walk bettet·." s a wa l king cane and so doing very well, and we h ope . . , 11 . "'11 L 1 on Leo 1 s . L 10n L eo, . ' 1n "" . . t Jll s t lceep' em c om1ng, IA Sy lv 1a Js oo. · . Lione ss . ·1 M ts" continue to enliven our . I yol..lt" "Hystet' l Cd omen . I 1 I meet i n g s. c·c ,.. I I TODAY' GFR88RAM wes ~"~• n "" ''to L •• ' T - �'LIONS \ llOAR ~11..e. \ VOLUME 9 NUMBER 2 In Lion Leo's Hysterica l Moments we were told that as a GI, Leo co uldn't understand why in the Air F~rce he was requ ired to marc h so darn ' d muc h . He a l so sa 1d that whil e in Timo s henka the water syst em failed and the Army General ordered hi s men to stay out of Timos h e nka for that reas on . Lion Leo c ouldn't under s t a nd that either ; be c a u se the soldiers he knew never drank wate r when they e n 1; l n t n t o 1.'111 d n y 1-'J a y . L i o n L e o a 1 s o t o 1 d u s t hat be f o t' e 111 t h e wat' h e seldom went to bed befot•e 4 : 121121 a . m. ; but uri n g hi s war time ser vi ce th at was his usual hour to ar i s e. K e e p ' e rn c o mi n g , L i on L e o • Yo •.n' d i a t' y i s a 1 mo s t intere s ting as Senator P ack wood's . . Om·' "gue st wa s· Lion PP Leo's son - in-law Jack $tAd ams ft•om Sact•ament o , Cali fot'n i a . Wel co me, Mr. Adams;t and thi s goes for a ny and all of our meetin g s . Rile; T w;"..Ss...QND-ANNQYNbE-MEN+· ..- - - - - - - - -- - - - - -- S PDG Jack Cole described the Lion's Club Ba nd as third performance at Th e Sum mit. We were well r epres ented bo th in quality a nd numbers in that PP Leo played the piano and he and t h e rest of the Sanctimonious Seven played for nearly an hour and were well received and the audie n ce was we l l and happily entertained for--a s n oted--the third ti me by this group. No wonder, since they played and sang sn many of t he o ld favorites . Other performers were Jo Ann Roberson, Lion Bev Watson, L ion Bob Moo re , PP Ben Ski llm an , PP Bil l Anderson and PDG J. W "Red Hoyle. " . To be noted: the Sanct imonio us Se ven enjoyed playing as much as the audie n ce enjoyed hearing . To Ye Ed th~t is a bsolutely wonderful in that a ll c oncerned were given the pt• ivi lege to "ENJOY , ENJOY"! Thanl<s a g ain Sanctimoniou~ Seven . You a re first-c l ass ambassadors ; a n d your Club appreciates this fa c t a nd you immense l y. -------~----------Lion Leo filled us in on some more of the U. S. Army ' s utie s in the Phillipines . Appat· ently, one thing that tt racted the attention of the U.S. troops --inc luding our good uddy , Lion Leo--was the number of pretty Filipino girls in 1 the area a nd the availability of severa l of them in the matter 1 of the soldiers ' acqui r ing d a nce partners . And, according to PP Leo, considering theit' footwear·, many of t he m had " sox appeal" (fuss at Leo, not me!> . Again , we thank L ion Leo fot' lightening our l oad with humor! Keep 'em co min'! �YU\.1 : Lion PP Leo , Club Historian , took us for a s troll down Mem ory Lane for the Ashev ill e Lions . His s tori es are not o n ly h untot' o u s, but highlight the a c hiev e ments of L ionism in the past so we b eco me motivated to do lik e wise. He re ports of the t im~~ when m e mb~ r~ hi p n ~trn bet ' l!LI 1n t h e h u ndt• eds , when 97 of 1171171 members attended programed act i vit ies , and wh en 2 or 3 b sences from meetings p rompt e d escorts by the police . Leo ' s q memories ar e i n va luable t o the C lub and we l ook forwa r d to each ne~1 gem . T+ • ·- - \ �Shirley Honigman Sari in. a native of Gastonia NC studied at the University o f North Caro lina and at the American Academy o f Dramatic Arts in NY. In 1947 she married Ralph Sarlin and moved to Liberty where she immediately became involved in civic and humanitarian endeavors. S he wa s act ive in her hus band 's business. Sari in Dept. Stores and later with him in Sarlin Business Service. S hirley has se rved o n nume ro us boards inc luding the Pickens County Library Board, the Pickens County Mu seum Co mmi ss io n. C le mso n Little Theatre, Tri County Technical Foundation . and on the Advisory Boards o f the Women's Program s and also the Nursing Program at TriCounty Technical College. She is a charter Board member o f the Pickens County American Cancer Society and continues to serve on that board. She served eight yea rs as Chairman o ft he Pickens County Arts Commiss ion ( now ca ll ed th e Pi c kens County Cultural Commission) and is serving her twc:nty-seventh year as a member of that Commiss ion. She is currently a member o f the Executi ve l3oard of th e C resce nt Mu s ic C lub of Grcc:nvillc. Shirley has served as pres idem of the Liberty Wonwn 's C lub. the Liberty Matron s League and the Liberty Friends of the Library. She has also served as 7th District President of the S.C. Ameri can Legion Auxiliary and as Dert. Parliamentarian of' the S.C. American Legion Auxiliary. In 1974. S hirley returned to col lege and graduated Magna Cum Laude from Southern Wes leyan Uni\'ersity. Since then she ha s been busy " ith acting. her first love. To encourage talented Liberty lligh Sc hoo l student s. each ycnr she presents awards fo r exce llence 111 music. art and drama. 3../ Timl's0utloo!.. In recognition o f her dedicat ion to and promotion of the arts, the Pickens County Council named the Purchase Prize of the Annua l Juried Show of the Pickens County Museum in her honor. In 1982 she was selected as C itizen o f the Yea r by the PickensLiberty Lions Club. Shirle~ and her h~1sband Ralp~l have four children and nme grandchildren. T HE S HABllAT SE DE R PICN IC on August 23. the last one o f the seaso n, s ho wcased Is rael i fo lk danci ng led by our acco mplis hed Rebbitzin Susan Ratner. IN T H E NEWS last Ju ly 13 under J theAshevillc C iti zen-Times headline 1" Finkleste in tickles the ivories to entertai n Summ it reside nts•· was a · picture o f himself, and a s hort article S hirley ha s be e n an active a nd wh ich said, in part, " Leo Finklestcin. in volved mcrn~er ~ f Congregation ~ 91. who was the piano pl aye~ for t.he Beth Israel and 1 Sisterhood for the Lions C lub combo, the SanctnnoniUS ts past 40 years. During this long period J Seven, is playing the piano fo r the o f tim e. she has le nt her outs~m~d.ing J Wednesday luncheon cro wd at The e ne rgy and s uppo rt to actiV ItlcS. Summit retirement residence.'' events and causes far too numerous to mention. On July 30. on the front page o f the Ne ighbo rs secti on. the lead article was all about Evelyn Wiley, who died T emple Beth ha-T cphila last Decem ber. She was the wife of Ash eville NC the Temple· s ind isr ensablc custodian by Marjorie Schachter Edward Wiley. She was a teacher of spec ia l educatio n stude nts fo r 28 THE llR OT H ER II OO D & years and was nam ed 13uncom be SISTER HOO D jo intly he ld the CountyTeacher of' theYea rinl989. annua l Temple pic nic at Recreat ion Park on Sunday, August 18. with the O n WLOS TV o n Wed nesday. enthu siasti c partic ipati o n o f what August 14 at 6: 30 pm. in connection seemed to be more people than ever. with a program heing set up at the T he ho t dogs a nd hamburge rs, municipal course fo r blind golfe rs, o f prepared by the incomparable chef w hi c h Joe is o ne. there was Joe Bob Janowitz and his he lpers. a lithe Sulli van himse lf be ing lined up for a lixings. the sweet watermelons were golf shot. ingredient s of a wo rld -c las s traditional picn ic. l lclpers included On Saturday. August I0, on the front Maurice Gettlcman. Kerry Friedman. page of the Religion sect ion. was an Dick Braun. Jack Bennctan. Arnie artic le about th e Commiss io n o n Sgan. Bo b Hn1 s ka. and Bob Soc ia l Action o f Refo rm Judaism's Janowitz's friend Bobbie Schac m e. first Adult Mitzvnh Corps. An n and An unforgettable sight wa s Rabbi Robert Ratne r, Ph D, disappearing into the di stance, egg in hand,. in hot pursuit of someone too small and far away to recognize. in the course of the raw-egg-catc hing kid s' ga me tha t ' s become a pi c ni c fixture. Dignity? Some yoke! Fun! Eggstra helpings. Rubin Feldstein were mentioned as part of a group bui!cling a house under the aegis of the Corps. On the front page o f the Business Section on Sunday, August II. there was an article ab o ut American T hres ho ld o f Enka. make r o f disposable products for the med ica l indu stry. Bo b Bayer. co mpa ny Ouoher �getting the Jewish people to look ahead and plan for their future. The year 5757 represents next year when the Temple expects to conclude the process and begin implementing the plans which the congregation and board have identified. Under the leade rship o f Alan Blumenthal , Vice Pres id en t of Planning and Geri Zhiss, Chairperson o f " Project Joseph - 5757'', the congregation will participate in the process through focus groups and a written survey. " Project Joseph 5757'' recommendations are scheduled to be made in May. 1997. Contact the offi ce for location. 2nd Mondays will meet at Temple on October 14 at 7:30pm. The Executive Board will meet at 5:30 pm on October 14, followed by a full Board Meeting at 7:30pm. Tot Shabbat will be celebrated at Temple BethEl on Saturday, October 19 at 9: I S am. Robert and Elizabeth Davis, Albert and Joyc:: Garson, Jerry and Lisa Goldberg. Dav id and Bel/ita Jacobson. Neil and Janel Kaplan. David and Francine Kors. Cliff and Lois Laxer, Jay and Katluy n Levy, Ken/ and Suzy McKinney. !.anJ' lllld Dale Polsky. Alan Rosenberg. Steven and Francine Tar/owe. r;::=============~ Com mittee and Auxiliary Meetings for the month of October include: October 14 Board of Directors 7:30pm October I 0 7:30pm Choir Practice October 2 1 Religious School Board 7:30pm October 17 7:30 pm Choir Practice October 30 Social Action Committee 7:30pm Temple Beth E l will se nd a contingent to the annual Crop Walk on October 27. There will be a picnic at the Temple at I:00 pm. Contact Jeff or Mindy Passe at 847-5267 to sign Our First Friday Family Shabbat up! was on October 4. Attenti on Se ni o rs ! J o in Rabbi The Board of the Sr. Youth Group, Bennett on October 28 at 12:00 pm LIBERTY, met on Sunday, October for the monthly S.enior Seminar, a ~=============~ 6 at the Temple at 2:00PM. lunchtime ed ucational forum. Bring your own lunch- the Temple will The Te mpl e Beth EI/Don Mallins prov ide drinks. Beth El Synagogue Go lf To urrt amen~ wa s he ld at Raintree North on October 7. Ma ze l Tov to the following on Greenville SC becoming a B'nai Mitzvah in October by Rita Alexander The Senior Social Club presented an at Temple Beth El Th e S ister hoo d o f Be th Israel evening with Rabbi Bennett 's and Synagogue held the annual Barbara Cantor Shepherd's ·'Dueling Guitars" October 5 Shimlock Torah Fund Luncheon at onTuesday, October 8. Lee Weingarten, son of Beth Israel Synagogue on Sunday, Andrew and Amy Weingarten Oc tober 13. 1996. This occasion The Service of Healing was held at October 12 honored Shirley Sarlin, selected as Temple Beth El on October 9. Heather Shap~ro, daughter of " Woman of Achievement" for 1996David and Susan Shapiro 1997. Project Joseph-5757 Focus Groups is October 19 being held o n October 9, 16. & 23 Michael Desarno, son of The Torah Fund Ca mpaign is a and November 7 & 13 at Temple. Jack and Susan Desarno projec t o f Wome n 's League for Please contact the office for times and October 26 Conservative Judaism through which to reserve your spot! Jeffery Gerst, son of members support the development, Paul and La urel Gerst strengthening, and maintenance of The Bereavement Support Groups ~~~~~~~~~~~~~::e..4v the Jewish Theological Seminary of wil l meet at Temple Beth El for six Best wishes on the arrival of: America: The Sem inary, in add ition consecuti ve weeks at I I :30 am on Riley Klein. daughter of Amy and to training rabbis and cantors, also Th ursday mo rnin gs, beg innin g Robert Cohen, born June 5, 1996. educates teachers, soc ial workers, and October 10. la y peop le and se rves as a Welco me t o the foll o wing ne w fountainhead o f the Conservative Lunch 'N Learn, a noontime Bible members of Temple Beth El: Jewish moveme nt th roughout the Study for busy profess iona ls, will Diana Ades, David and Andrea world. meet at 12:00 pm on October 14. Birnbaum, Mall and Susan Cohen, October TimesOu1look 3 3 �~~ lhelhr 1 , W•rtaa loiH•r·l•·Ciol•f c:A.. h4tvlllft..-., <n.e. K....,... 1., •hwf'\e Ae. . .aete ... Iter VOLUI'IE 4 APRIL 1, 1998 ': NUI'IBER 1 .. Today's meeting was cal led to order in a pt time by First Vice President Lion Rick Warren in the absence ot our fearless leader, President Rick Eaton . Ye Ed was called upon for the invocation after which~Lion PP Joe ParsonsJled us in the singi ng of our usual two songs. Your Truly sorely !~sed the opportunity to sing beside Lion Joe Sull n . Hurry back, Joe, because the entire membership of the Club misses you and your valuable comments., ' Lion Frank called upon those present to furnish comments about Lionistic health and welfare . Lion PDGs Jack Cole ang_ ,ve ~.e.2.r~~ upon th.e condition ot highly va_!trarit"e P ':__t~ c:._!_r:!i'~8l-s_:!Il' . L ~o i ,t. · ;f1!"teThg g-o -tr'eatmen"t7t -S.!:..2.-C?_.S ~;-o~.t !_Pparent : y ·"-~ is _ s.~~) ,!.c~ t<!_ ·:c)CI ·~.fj)...LtG.:...s ome_£_.t__::~hue..-t:Jt~uJ~~ u £fi....e~and ~!'~ s ng • ~ ently, pros the ti_cs a r ~ .in th ~ . .!?.,f_f i ~S,:_.. L ~~--t:]O .!.,._in h_i~ ~~e~.~ ~!- -~3 '_s • • is determined to overcome any disability and to return to us as soon as his doctors will allow. And hopefull y , that is ver y soon indeed. !:!.!..i!!J:J. - . . - ....... Following are comments ot PP Ann Ric'e p ert inent to the soon to be Horse S how as promoted and/or sponsored by thi s Club; be ready when called upon. This annual s how is a good fundraiser and need s the help of all who wi ll to be ever gainful in att endan ce and f inan ci al s uccess . Please do not hesita te to volunteer . Today's program consisted of comment s pro and con regarding Club busines s and its upcoming election of n ew officers and directors . lion Jack Cole in t roduced Donald F. De cke r, a new member of the band, ("The Sanctimonious - ever how many") and a hot prospect for membership in our organization. From comments among those pre s ent today, he will be a most welcome addition to our roster. Lion Ed S hurt s reported that the Asheville Lions Club held a banquet at the Biltmore Town Hall on l'larch 2 8, 1998, to c elebrate the club's 75th anniversary. It was attended by we l l over fifty members and guests. The mu sic was s upplied by the Sanctimonious Seven led by PDG Jack Cole. Band member s included: JoAnn Robers on, Beverly Watson, Annie l'lae Love lace, Frances Aik en , John Ma t thews, Jqy Peterson, Bill Andersan , and Don De cke r . lion VDG Jim Edgar wa s ma s ter of ce remonie s. Af ter introduci ng the gue s t s , h e gave a s hort h istory ot our c lub. Our third org anizational meeting was held on December 22 , 19 22, with fifty c ha rt e r me mber s attending. That is t he ott ic ial d ay that we·· received our c harter. The speaker at th e mee ti n g delivered a sp eech which is stil l appr opr i ate today . He sai d, "A Lio n is one who has achieved s uccess, wh o h as lived well, laughed often and loved much, •.• who has lett th e world a bette r place than he found it, . . . who has always looked tor the best in o thers and given the best that he has • . • " In the 1960's our c lub grew to 170 members which was the second largest club in the State. This cl ub conducted an annual Horse show, esta blished an Eye Clinic, and was one of the few clubs to have a musical band. Our club has furnished nine District Governors to District 3 1-A including Lions Shelby Horton, Jack Cole, Jim Parker, Guy Penland, and Tom Parsons. We have sponsored 12 new clubs including Asheville preakfast , Greater Asheville , West Asheville, Blao ~M ountain, 'I ~ �Brevard, Burnsville, Canton, Hendersonville, and Weaverville. Lion PP Leo F i~kelstein was s. chegJ,tl.ed to gi~ U§. 5A-b.t-~cu;.!.s._I!J......!!l..QIIle.(lt ciilled " r1hmemb er Wilen." ~&e :fi;-'t'.i on Leo was in the hosoital ~~ ~ .>-.--..~...,..._.,..,_,_... ::::::;;;;En ~~!!&:1:-!in:- r e;a t~. f ' rs wo_p~g.!;,...~~._Cl T L I!.,.~.~-~.!1-..B.es~ _ ~~-!ll!.'lt·" Leo takes us bac K to the ~.o:_hen he :roTn e.d tfiJ._~,.!.. .!:t...._,_J,n Y l - a- - --- --·-.. .t~o ~..! 'days . ~rs._1E~ ~"!D...!.D ~t~~C?:f!-:~!;.•.i y;..•..~!J!,I.!!.)'S g·oiicl to ~receive Leo's sense of n um·or and continuity with the _east . -~... --~· ., ---~--4~ . . . .;.. . ~_ ~.....,.., ..... ._.~ 1~---~---· A-t.(.·--.:.~ Our speaker was Lion Stewart Humphrey of the Enka Lions Club . He is' also CEO of Eliada Homes and District 31-A chaplain. He had a great sense of humor and kept us entertained. He ended with thoughts based on Lion's Code of Ethics and summarized by our motto "We Serve . " His address reminded me of the charter speech gi v en 75 years agl referred to abovef : ~- Donald F. Decker was inducted into the club as a new member. Lion Decker has lived in Florida, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania. He plays a saxophone so is already in the band. He i s sponsored by Lion PDG Jack Cole. Welcome into the Club Lion Don . ( Lion President Rick Eaton presented plaques to the five members of the club who have more than 50 years of service. They are Lions Jack Cole, Leo Manley, Charlie Miller, J.O. McCollum, and Leo Finkelstein. Lion Leo has 6B years of service. Lion PDG Guy Penland presented Lion PP Ann Rice with a special award in gratitude for the hard work that Lion An~ faithfully performs for the Club. Lion Ann is indeed a prime-mover who gets things done . The> me>al '"''"" cate l"u.d by F.-i na Frionds. It was e><ce!lent and plentiful. The arrangements for the banquet were hor d~ed by ooohaLrman Lion pp Ann Rice and Lion pp Bill Weber. It was a lot of work but everythLng went smoothly. Thank you Lions Ann and Bill ror your leadership. The Club graciously invites every person to come down to the Asheville Lions Eye Clinic and purchase any of the pic t ures that were taken at the banquet by photographer, Larry Horton, nephew of Yours Truly, for only $1.00 each . See you ne><t time. S. E. H. SLATE OF OFFICERS FOR 199B-1999 PresidentFrank Warren 1st Vice President- Buddy Riesenberg 2nd Vice President- Bill Weber 3rd Vice President- David Walls Secretary-Ed Shurts T reasurer-Jan Grove Lion Tamer- Stan Lieberman Tail Twister- PP Rick Eaton ONE YEAR DIRECTORS TWO YEAR DIRECTORS Randy Bu c k n er Roger Darrough PDG Jim Parker PP Ann Rice PP Joe Schandler Beve rly W<~tson Dave Perkins PP Brad Pippinger PP Ed Krause PP Jim Dutton ' : J .i �Lion PP Ann Rice reminded us that the Horse Show ads need to be turned in by April 13, which is a Monday. A sign-up sheet will be available at the next meet ing for assignments during the Horse Show . We will have three shows on Saturday, 11 am, 1:30 pm and 7 pm, please mark your calendars and volunteer for those assignments as you are able. We have '-'acancies and need Lions for the following Wed. 1 Program Sales 2 Lions Club Booth: 1 Skyboxes: 2 Gates: 1(F) Ribbon Ple!i: : 1 1 Announcer: Prayer: Thur . 1 2 1 2 1(F) 1 1 Fri. 1 2 1 1 1(F) 1 1 Sat;. .. 2 2 Sat .. 2 2 2 1(F) 1 1 sho~o.~s: 2 2 (F) 1(M) 1 i Sat ...... 1 2 1 1 i~ (F) 1 1 Saturday 10:30 am Saturday 1:00 pm Saturday 6 : 30 pm Monday 5/11 6 pm 1 Lion Set Up Sho1.1 Tear Oo~o.~n Saturday 5/16 10:30 pm 1 Sho~o.~ Lion Please volunteer generously as you have in years past an~ le~ ' s make this the best Horse Show we have ever had! I l l , i ' .i �T099~ ~N 'arrrAa~sr l 111"''''11'' '11'' I'll'' II II "'II I" ' II I" ''II' I''I' III ~~· I'' I sor anuaAy p&OJ8 ~ouaJ3 'S Y-~J qnrJ uor7 arrrAa~sy 03lS3n038 NOllJ3880J SS3800Y .. 'J'N'3111A3HSV fo SOBBZ JN a rr r~a 4 5 ~ ' :Jd ~ PPo!J a r rr~aor !i oo z ura:Jsra>f UT.,! oa 1 Hfll:) SNOI'l 1 11 H J S J ..II t :.::· -- _ - - -..::..:. ._ ~- ' ' -- - ·-~~ '" '~: " " DATES TO REifEIIBER :! I I r It Gt:l141111t1. tl __..- att 12 u ~:,--t::,.,w.... ~~ .. -- ~ ...-.!-;: .. .:1.&.... l;o._.! T )t"r~~~ lM£ flf ClJIIC 80UD_~f ;;~fORS viii uti tht ?nd Wtdnudty .• rof u ch oonth, tl11 l ph~ ~~ unounctd . ~ '·' ....,, I IH£ lSHfVlll£ lJUS CLUI B0 -;10 Of OII((IORS viii 111t tho Hh Ytdnndty of uch •onth 1t noon, 111tlng phct to bt tnnounctd . I' • ...~:o::...:._~·. -o ..::..,_, 4/ 15 ·'Regular Club Meeting at noon at the Best Western 4/29 Club Board of Directors meeting at noon at the Cornerstone SPECIAL RECOGNITION HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEALTH & IfELFARE Lion PP Ann Rice for receiving an appreciation award Lion Bev Watson Lion Nancy Penland 4/7 4/30 I I 0 N S 1 I II A 0 : Lions PP Jack Cole, Leo Manley, PP Leo Finkelstein, Charlie Miller, J.O. M cCo lum ior receiving l awards for 50 years of service or more r II -; II r V II I F I NC • • Lion Leo Finkelstein Lioness Beatrice Gullotta \ U F F I (; E RS & B 0 II RU M f: M8 E R S 1997 - l 998 OFF iCE RS I Vf. IIR IJl R. Pre s . - Rick Ea t o n arre n 1 s t VP - Frank W 2 nd VP - Bu d dy Rel s e nb e r g Se c . - Ed S hu r t s Tr e a s ur e r - Ja n Grove Lio n Tamer - Jo e Gul.lot ta Ta il Twi s ter - Bi I I W ll e r e J o h n 1:1 e ,. d i e PP .J i m llut t on P UG S he l by Horton ller. ky Nunnaley P P Rrad P i ppinqer 2 YEAR OIR. Randy Buckner Roger Darrough PUG Jim Parker PP Ann Rice PP Joe Schandler �ROAR I:DITOA8t BheUay a. llorto" Ed I tor•ln•l:h t el £d••rd 1.• ~~ tlhurt• cJ!~h~ville.-, A•eoa J•l• IL&.IItur I II E L 10 N ::; <rz_e. 1<0 A k : ., I he •· euular me et inu ot tho Ashevi ll~ Lion , Club WdS Cdlled to order by Lion Pr·es ident Riel~ Eato n p1·o mpl..ly at noon. lion PP Joe Parsons led u s in si nging. Lion PUG Jack Cole ill tr-<Hiu ced h is guest Da n F. Decker who wa s a l ion about '10 y~a•·s ago . lie i;, interested in membe r s hip in this t.lub . Lion Ja ck would li.ke to see him in l. h e ha n d s i11ce he plays" tenor sax . L1on Jc1c: l~ c~l s o reported' t l tclt l.lt tJ bc~n d I'"" pl"yed yesterd"Y • Sc1 int Pa t 1 i c k ' s Ddy, a L t h e 1\ s h evi 11 e lf o ,J J L11 l-en Le 1 . Seve n melflb e • s · · · ra•· t i cipate d in Lh e ba 11cl . fh e y pli:1ye d dl>uuL ~ 0 song!> tor an audience ot about !.>U ,~es id u nt :3 . e n t hu siastic . lite flle:ty s ony alo n q wj l. l t t ile band •·ece ived" gra t u tly l>ond o r :j.L~ and wet · ~ lot re •· torming. rnost Lion PP Leo Finkel,tein yave a hi s l. ori c al report a b o u t earl y As h eville . tte told ot a raitl by Lh e po l ice 0 11 a r,· ientlly po ker party. lrte h ost ide n t i I i e cl h i s 9 u e s t s by t h e t· i ,. s L l:l 1 e L L e ,. s o I He b r e w a 1 ph a h e t . T h e i ,. 11 a111e s were duly r· ecordetl and rul>l i s hecl d S s u c h IIII.ICh to t he amuse me n t o t 1. h ose who s poke It e h ,. e w . He to 1 d o I a · h>., s e be in g " r me cl by ll is t a the r i with weapon s trorn hi s s tore . rh e she ril· t ' ~" s relieve d to lear n that al l tl1e weapor 1s h ad be en r~e l . tJt~ n ed provi n q l.ltdl . Lite pos se were good c i t izen,. The se we1· e the clay s wlte11 a ni cke l wnultl buy a s h oe s l1ine or a Licket on the lo cal troll e y. Lion Pf' lJil.l W"l>er reminded uc. o t· Lit " /~t.l1 Cltd r·t:er 1\nnlv e rSet i"Y Banquet on Ma•·c tl ~tlth dt: tho:. t:liltmo t·e r own flail.. Ll: i s Ju c dted in Biltmore Forest on Vanderbilt Hoatl I . 9 mil es t r om Lhe Uillmore Dairy Bar. Li o n 0 i 11 c. 1 so r· e1ui. nded 11 s o t Llle Wh i I. e Cdne " ""dy sale at Wed Mart o n Good Friday, April lOt h. Lion Bev Watson introduced our s pe~ker 0 1· . Andrew Cahn . D r . with Lhe Chinese Actrpttrl ct: ttr· e & ll c r· ho I ogy C li.nir. on Monttord s po ke ot Chinese ~ledi c ine a s " " 1\ll:ernalive Medi c ine. Ca hn is Ave. He Chinese medi c i ne is a CO IItfll et c m ed i cc~ l "Y'>LH m tltat has diagnosed, t.t·e" Led dnd pt" eve n te d il I n ess t or ove •· ~J ce n t urie s . Whil e i t can •·e medy ai lmen t , and alt.e •· st,.,t.es or min cl, Chinese medici n e Ciiln also "nltance • ·ec upera t.lve powe1· , i rnm 1111 i t.y ' " '" tile Cd pa c i t y tor plea su re. w n ,-(, "n d r: ,. e a l.i v r L y • Lltcll. Aruuric.111 C0 111pc1 11ies are studying the ( lltnP....,\~ ''"·: di• .i. •• c- d l e n ow pe r~ mi tte d Lo he pr i mary c dre physi c i d n ~ in Ll 1e s t: dte ut" New Me x i co : Chi n ese me di ci ne i s n o w covtt r ed by Jll>.;:.Urc1IIGC in NM ." M c.rty s t.a Le s d r·e Tollowl ng this e x a mpl e. L l1 i r1e s e a~1.tv~ h e r· IJ S ('1r · e l;)tl iH<JI ' l: di t:lll. ~ . " I l"«t. l. i v« ll tn t JJ•... "' th " 1\M/1 i,; critica.l ot l.lti -., t<ll"lll of a lt.u t· n ,;Lc utfH i ic:ine bttt the Chinese ltd ve s tu d i. es Uta 1. ""PfHII" t Llle i ,. proc;e<illl" t!S. tJr. Ca llll '.;:t ll9tJ~ ~ 1. e cl Ll t dL 1.-J t: s ltuuld l. ry l, ldn u~~ lll ~ dj c ine si n ce at worst i l ic. hr.trml ess. lit e ri r,; L v i s i t i,; :j,I~O ""tl ~'<'\J IIl d l" visits are $60 . d o c u 11·s s h oul d b e l ice 11 se d l>y the rtdlional and state gover nm e n ts . lh d n k you l.i.o11 t:l" v tor dt" t· angilly , u c h o il inter· esting meeti n g . ELS. The �111"""11"'11"1'11"1'11"'1'1"' 1'1""11'1"1'1"11'1"1I.. ... -- T099~ ~N 'arrr~aqsv psoJg qouaJd ·s V-SJ qn[~ U0f1 arrr~aqsv 03l53fl~38 NOil~3880~ SS3800V anua~v . 'TN'!1111A3HSV S088Z 801 · ~dv pee~ JN U! B~STB>i U LJ '".' ~; ''" 2DA TES ;:Sill' a flfll:J SNOI'l ooz 091 :J , I ~/ :J S _;/ . .II TH£ fYf tl iMit BOARD Of OIRHIORS ulll out tht lnd Utdntsday of uch oon l h, tlu I plact t o bt announctd. 1) 14 IS 1t U 11 tt811Z2ZJ24ZS - an '" BTT!~84SV BTT!~BO!~ • a~t•st IHI I IHIV IIll liONS Cl UB BOARD Of OIRICIORS ulll out tht Hh U tdntsdty of u ch oonth at noon, otttlnq pltct to bt tnnounctd . 3/25 Board of Directors Meeting at Noon at the Cornerstone Rest. on Tunnel Rd . 3/28 The Asheville Lions Club 75th Charter Anniversary Party at Biltmore Town Hall \ .. SPEC lAI. RECOGNITI ON HAPPY BIRTHDAY a 0 . HEALTH & WELFARE • ' Dave Perkins Martin Gross Jim Phillips Randy Buckner 3/ 10 3/ 13 3/2 1 3/29 I ION <; 1.11111 Ill' II '; III V II Ir INI . . . OF F I CFHS I 'I'J/ - 1 9'1ft O FFI C EHS I Pr es . . l o l11o ll•! o d i e · - !li c k Eato n l s r. v P - F 1· an I< wa 1· r e n 2 11 d VI' - !Ill d d y I! a I £. P. II lo e I' q Sec. - F d S l11o rts Tr e a s urer - Jan Grove 1 Inn Taoner - Jue H11ll. utta Jail lwl st:e o - Hill Wehe o · · Y ~ 1111 II I II. 1'1' . 1 ion llll l:l:o n I' IICi S lo ., I loy II u o· l:o 11 IIP.<: Ic y Nllnnal. e y I'P nr· a d I' lp p i nqAr· ( ':.. F. ROIIHil 7. MI· MHI' Il S Yfllll IJ[fl. Ha ndy Ruck ne r lloqeo· nero· o ugh I' IJ G J i 111 P a r k e o · PI' Ann Rice PP Joe Sc h and l er � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Leo Finkelstein Papers Description An account of the resource This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lions Roar: History of Lion's Club Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 107_03_03_HistoryOfLionsClub_M Description An account of the resource Historical reports from the time when Leo Finkelstein served as historian of the Lions Club. Subject The topic of the resource Lions Club (Asheville, N.C.) Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a title=" In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable" href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-RUU/1.0//" target="_blank"> In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable </a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title=" Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/27" target="_blank"> Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1989 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 50 pages Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Asheville (N.C.) Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. https://www.geonames.org/4453066/asheville.html Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1980s 1987 army fellowship history Lion's Roar report South Pacific World War II https://omeka-test.library.appstate.edu/files/original/b60921e38516add54ca7baa7619de1a2.pdf 0b11408fac629f798dcc10712c4d9369 PDF Text Text ���� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Leo Finkelstein Papers Description An account of the resource This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Leo Finkelstein Speech at UNC History Class, 1998 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1998-03-21 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 107_01_21_Speech_UNC_HistoryClass_1998_0321_M Description An account of the resource This item contains notes from Leo Finkelstein's speech and his account of his family roots, from Lithuania to Asheville, North Carolina. Subject The topic of the resource Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998--Family Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a title=" In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable" href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-RUU/1.0//" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable </a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. <a title=" Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/27" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Leo Finkelstein Papers </a> Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Temporal Coverage Temporal characteristics of the resource. 1990s 1799 Asheville Beth Ha-Tephila guns Harry Finkelstein history Lithuania pawnshop ruble Will Haris